My huge thanks to Dog_in_the_Manger for the beta-ing - and for telling me the first draft was crap:)
"What would you do, if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?" The Beatles.
Night had fallen early, lighting tinsels of lights in the houses and buildings surrounding RangeMan Inc. Pierre "Tank" Cabret's eyes were taking in the scenery on the other side of the window. On his desk were piles of paper waiting to be reviewed or approved, but the big man couldn't take his eyes off the snowflakes falling from the darkened sky. The snow was sticking to the ground, giving a pale glow to the landscape under the street lamps. Growing up in Louisiana, Tank had rarely gotten to see much of it, and even less to play with it.
The ding of his phone brought him out of his reverie: the call was coming from Ranger's office. "Yo."
"Prepare the jet. We're going to Albuquerque." And without another word, his friend hung up.
"Why hell would we go to Albuquerque?" the big guy asked himself. After quickly checking the FTA's RangeMan was after, he realized none of them had any connection to New Mexico, leaving only one possibility.
"Steph..." he muttered to himself.
He grabbed the phone and pressed a button.
"¿Si?" Hector's voice answered him.
"She's in New Mexico, right?"
"Yes. The marshal woman is."
Tank hung up, and was out of his office a few seconds later. He crossed the control room, taking in the empty cubicles, and mentally making a note to check who was coming back when, before heading to the stairs.
After knocking on Hector's door, he walked into the room. Laptops and computers were neatly lined on the tables around the desk of a gang member turned electronics genius, who was holding a screwdriver, carefully taking the machine in front of him apart piece by piece.
"Show me the picture."
Hector put his tool down and turned to the screen of his computer. A picture of a blond woman, half hidden behind a lanky dark-haired man appeared, next to the drawing done by the sketch artist from Indianapolis.
"My software identified 27 out of 28 points of similarity between the picture and the drawing. I'm not a hundred percent sure it's her, we would have a better view if the man wasn't blocking her. But we're lucky the photographer had a good piece. It gives us quite a good view of the woman."
"What's the name of the paper?"
"Albuquerque journal. They covered a Christmas Eve dinner at a shelter."
A knock on the door cut off the conversation.
"¡Entre!" said Hector, reverting to Spanish. (Come in)
"El jefe quiere ver las fotos," Cal said from the doorframe. (The boss wants to see the photos.) Hector nodded before picking up a file off his desk.
Tank turned to the former Navy Seal in front of him and said, "I got that covered."
Cal nodded his understanding before closing the door.
"How much is the pot?" asked Hector.
"Close to five hundred."
There was a bet going among the core team members about the time it would take for the rest of RangeMen to notice that Hector was perfectly fluent in English.
"Give me that. I need to talk to Ranger."Without another word, Tank took the file Hector was holding, before leaving the office.
-o-o-
"That went well." Mary tried to break the silence inside the SUV. Stephanie was looking through the tinted windows, taking in the empty streets of the Old Town, lit only with the streetlamps, giving a dirty yellow glow to the snow blanketing the ground… She hadn't spoken a single word since the women left the Sunshine Building.
Steph turned to the marshal, driving her Probe, before looking through the windshield. She crossed both arms in front of her. How could Mary think the conversation with her mom went well? Helen had barely let her daughter speak, preferring to talk about the people of the 'Burg.
Right now, Stephanie didn't give a crap about Patricia Dunbard's son, or Liz Speck's last boyfriend. And even less, hear for the umpteenth time this month about Joe Morelli's new girlfriend, a speech therapist from Philadelphia, whom he would marry if Steph didn't come back quickly enough.
Stephanie could feel the tears stinging her eyes. She was far away from home, alone in a city she didn't know because she saw a guy kill a woman, and all her mother cared about was when she would come back to get married.
"She's probably uncomfortable talking to you, you know," Mary spoke loudly, not taking her eyes off of the road. "I know what you need. You're not in a hurry?"
Steph shook her head that she wasn't. Nothing was waiting for her in her apartment. Nobody to talk to, nobody to care for, only her TV and her laptop she couldn't use to email her friends. She could go back to the shelter, but really didn't feel like it right now. It had been tough enough on Christmas Eve.
Mary turned right, leaving the Rio Grande Boulevard and heading out to the suburbs.
"Where are we going, Mary? I live on the other side of the town."
"No way?" The marshal turned her head slightly and spotted the sparkling tears ready to flow. She sighed, before adding, "I thought we could get pie. Pie makes everything better."
"Yeah, you're right. Pie makes everything better." Steph answered in a dreamy voice. "You're a pie person?"
"As long as there're no apples in it, I'm a pie person."
"You don't like apple pie?" Steph turned to look at Mary, raising both eyebrows.
"Ate too much of it." Mary remembered the time when she'd been pregnant, and had craved apple pie all the time. It was a little over a year ago, when her sister was still engaged to Peter, and before Marshall was engaged to the Police Barbie… And now, a year later, where was she? Brandi had ran away to Florida, her best friend was nearly married, and here she was, the Great Mary Shannon, Certified Ass-Kicker, all alone, as she had finally given her baby up for adoption. She shrugged off the memories."But they make a to-die-for chocolate and pear pie."
Mary stopped in front of Maggie's pie shop, and let her car cough its mechanical lungs out before turning the engine off. Even for the oh-so-noisy angry aubergine Probe, the sound seemed rather abnormal.
"You sure this car will start again?" Steph asked, concerned, as she didn't know at all where they were.
"It always starts. Or I'll have someone pick us up."
"Marshall?"
"Nah, I'll ask Delia. C'mon… And don't judge the place by the furniture. They put their money in the ingredients, not tables and chairs."
Mary pushed the door of the pie shop, and immediately the smell of fresh bakery overloaded Stephanie's senses.
The walls were covered with red paneling, and the chairs and tables were a disparate assortment. Only the green and white checkered tablecloths were the same everywhere. Over the dining area, delicious odors were coming from the kitchen, and Steph could see men taking molds out of the oven. On the other side of the room, near an antique juke-box, the main counter was loaded with half a dozen different cakes, some of them still smoldering.
"Mary! Long time, no see!" said an old man, wearing a white apron and coming out of the smoky zone. "Marshall's not here? Too bad, I had his special!"
"No, he's not. This is Stephanie, Miguel. I wanted her to try your pies."
The old man extended his hand to Stephanie, who shook it.
"Mary says you have the best pies in town. And she's a pie person!"
"Well, you sit here, and I'll bring you something." Miguel left the two women at their table, before heading to the counter while muttering in Spanish.
"We didn't order, Mary…"
The marshal smiled. "We never order here. Miguel or Maggie bring us what they think we will enjoy."
Stephanie's gaze followed the old man, as she tried to guess which pie she would get, and in the process managed to drop her purse to the floor. "Crap!" All her things were all over the tiled floor. Mary let an eye roll escape before leaning down to help Steph gather her belongings. She froze, after picking up a small wrapped candy.
"So sorry, I didn't think it was so close… thanks for your help, Mary… Mary?" Stephanie's voice turned worried as she took in the other woman, squatting on the ground with a candy in her hand, a faraway look in her eyes.
"Mary? You're okay?" Steph put her hand on Mary's arm, breaking the marshal out of her reverie.
"What? Yeah, I am. Just had a flashback, that's all. There you go."
"Nah, keep it. Got plenty at home."
Mary's eyes widened as the meaning of the words registered. "Where'd you get this? You know you can't contact anyone…"
"Why do you always assume I did something wrong? Loren asked for the presents we would like to have, and I suggested the salt water taffy. She ordered them online, two boxes per employee. It's just… well… " Steph's eyes filled with tears. These candies were more than sugar, they were her link to her family and friends she had left back east.
"I never ate a lot of them while I lived in Jersey, you know. It was so easy to find, I just took them for granted, and I knew I could have them anytime I wanted. But now, they are kind of… rare. You'll probably think it's stupid, but when I chew one of these, it brings back memories of summer in Point Pleasant."
Mary carefully unwrapped the plastic paper around the bite-size candy, before putting it in her mouth. It was true, she could almost feel the taste of home. She closed her eyes, and images came back to her mind. Vacations in Long Branch with her mom and dad, smiles, and sandcastles. Times when she could be just a little girl, having fun.
"It's not the first time you've had one of these, right?" Stephanie asked.
"How did you know?"
"You didn't seem surprised by the salty taste. When Lo tried them, it took her a bit of time to get used to it. You from Jersey?"
"Spent a few years there, yeah. I was in the FTF in Newark before Albuquerque."
"Oh. And what made you leave?"
"I had to transport a witness with Marshall. Somewhere along the way, he convinced me."
"You know Loren asked me for his phone number? Even though she thought you two were together?"
"What made her think we were together?"
"You're kidding me, right?"
The smell of cinnamon interrupted their conversation. Miguel was holding two large plates. On one of them was a huge slice of pie with chocolate, which the old man put in front of Mary. The other plate, for Steph, had six much smaller slices.
"Well, for your first time, sweetie, I thought it'd be best to let you have a go at all we have today. So I know next time what you'd like." Miguel pointed at each of the slices on the plate. "We have a classic apple pie with cinnamon – but Mary won't eat that anymore. Here is chocolate-pecan, peaches and whipped cream, this one is pumpkin, then Maggie made her blueberry special, so you're lucky to have it, and this one is with mango and passion fruit. Let me know how you like them."
Mary waited until Miguel walked away from the table to ask the question that was burning on her lips.
Stephanie was looking at the pies in front of her, with sparks in her eyes. She completely forgot about her talk with her family, thought Mary, suppressing a smirk.
"So, Steph, tell me why Loren thought Marshall and I were a couple?"
"Because you look like you are. Why aren't you two together?"
-o-o-
Dead Man Walking. Tank was sure that's what he looked like, crossing the control room on the fifth floor. He knew the talk he was going to have with Ranger would end on the mats. He already had to walk that path in the past, so he knew perfectly well what was coming to him.
He entered his friend's office without knocking, and closed the door behind him. Ranger was signing papers when he came in, and just shot him a look, acknowledging his presence.
Tank stood in front of the large window, gathering his thoughts, waiting for Ranger to finish what he was doing. The sound of pen sliding over paper finally stopped, and Tank turned to face his friend. Without saying a word, Ranger pushed the pen and the stack of papers to his second-in-command. Tank knew well this was the procedure for granting him the leadership of RangeMan while Ranger was away. But this time, he wasn't going to sign it.
"No."
Ranger raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Why?"
"For starters? No plan. Too many unknowns. Too dangerous. Even if the marshal is the right woman, she's a WitSec inspector. She'll have contingency plans. At least right now we are almost certain about Bomber's location."
"Sign the damn papers."
"No."
As Ranger rose from his comfortable armchair, Tank moved quickly towards the door, to completely block it, preventing his friend to walk out of the office.
"Are you for real? I'll take you down."
"Not without a fight, my friend. And I'm counting on your coming to your senses before we do any serious damage to each other," Tank said gruffly.
Ranger's only answer was his eyebrow shooting up in a dare to his oldest friend to defy him.
"Where?"
Tank opened the door, not caring in the least if Ranger followed, and headed for the gym.
First of all, thank you for all your reviews - it really helped me write as I was completely stuck, and couldn't find the right words. Keep them coming, please, as I need to work on the other chapters ;o)
Dog and HighlandsGirl; thank you for the support and the messages - they were overwhelming. thank you for not giving up on me and kicking my ass when needed!
More to come soon (I hope!) - Keep the reviews coming, I love to read what you think of this story :)