Chapter 14

"I have questions," I said. Ranger was lying still, beside me.

"Ask."

I sat up and looked at the blankest of blank faces. "Was that a snuff film?"

"Technically, no. When the tape ended David was still alive. I have a copy of the police report. David Guzman was strangled, but there were marks on his body indicating torture, and without going back and rereading, I can't be positive, but I think what I saw on the film corresponds to what they found on his body."

"So Rafael killed David."

"We already knew that, Babe."

"But now we have proof," I said. "Proof which we can never use because Ella and Louis must never see that film. Do you think they know David was gay? Did you know? I had no idea Rafael was…well, he must be bisexual."

"He's a fucking sadist. An equal opportunity sadist who gets his pleasure from tormenting whomever is at hand. I had no idea of David's sexual proclivity. I didn't know him all that well. His parents may have known but nothing was ever said about it. The tape started in the middle of a conversation. Acosta promising David he'd make amends for his financial misdealing. He begged David's forgiveness and said he would return the briefcase that night. He told David it was in a safe in the wall behind a picture in the living room. I'll get Manny back in there to see if there is a safe."

"It wasn't in a safe," I said. "I saw it in his office that night."

"He probably told David that to get him to his house," Ranger said. "He asked for forgiveness from David and then he moved on David, and you saw what happened after that. It was Rafael's plan to get David in a place where he could be dealt with, and from the way David responded in the beginning, it must have been something they had done before. David must have believed that Rafael was going to make amends."

"Why does that tape even exist?" I asked.

"The first part was erased," Ranger said. "That's why the tape started in the middle of their conversation. He made the mistake of not checking to make sure the tape was completely erased. The body was found the next day in a dumpster behind a social club in Trenton. The location made the police suspect it was a mob hit at first, until they saw the coroner's report."

"That means Rafael would have had to remove the body from his home and transport it, probably in his car. There would have been DNA everywhere," I said.

"I don't know how he transported it," Ranger said. "His car was left at the Mercer County airport and later returned to his sister. It was clean."

"What about his house?"

"Acosta was briefly listed as a person of interest because he and David had had a public argument a couple of days before the murder. It happened at the courthouse and there were several witnesses, although no one could say definitively what they were arguing about. He was never upgraded to a suspect because he had an airtight alibi. There was no cause to search his house. After he was gone his sister moved to Trenton and took care of cleaning out his office and has kept his house maintained. If there was evidence there, which we know there would have been, it's gone now."

"He can't have had an alibi," I said. "I was with him in the late afternoon until David came and then Rafael was with David later. We have the tape!"

"Alicia Campaneros. She's a judge with the Superior Circuit Court. She stated he was with her from dinnertime the night of the murder until the next morning…and the next morning he was in court. Two days later he'd left town."

"But we know what she said is not possible," I said.

"We do," Ranger agreed. "I expect to see her or someone very important to her on one of those tapes," Ranger said. "Or he has something else on her. To give a bogus alibi is a serious charge. To do so when you are a judge is personal and professional suicide. You're not the only one in Trenton who was unhappy with his return."

"I can't believe the police didn't investigate him. I can't believe he got away with it."

"Babe, Acosta was a well-respected ex-assistant DA. He was a friend to the Trenton Police Department. To complicate matters more, there were two other strangulation deaths within a few months of David's death. In the beginning the police thought the murders might be connected, but later decided they were not. They kept the details of David's death from the press because they were on the trail of the other murderer. They caught the guy and figured out David wasn't one of his victims, but by that time Acosta was out of the country."

"And Rafael got away with murder," I said.

"Only temporarily." In one smooth motion Ranger was off the bed and standing next to it. "I need to get out of here for a while." He gave my sweats and t-shirt a quick glance. "Change into something less casual. We're going out for dinner."

"Uh, how less casual?" I asked. I had only crammed a couple of outfits into my backpack and messenger bag.

"Jeans will be fine," he said. He called Ella and apologized for the late notice and told her we would not be requiring dinner that evening. I felt bad about the meal she had probably prepared, but I wasn't ready to face her when she brought up the food. I knew she had no idea what Ranger and I had watched, but the thought of her coming up and serving us made me uneasy. I wondered if Ranger felt the same way.

"I need to take care of something on five," Ranger said. "I'll be back up shortly. Go ahead and get ready."

I did as he said, and I was waiting for him in the living room when he came back upstairs.

"Give me a couple of minutes and then we'll go find someplace to eat," he said as he walked past me and into his bedroom.

A couple of minutes was ten. I spent the time wondering where we'd go eat. Most likely we'd go back to Shorty's. When he walked back into the living room my mouth dropped open. His hair was still damp from the shower. He was wearing an oatmeal-colored Henley, with the sleeves pushed up, a pair of well-worn jeans that fit him like a second skin and chukka boots. Chukka boots!

"I need to call Tank," I said. "Someone's kidnapped Ranger. Who are you?" I got an almost smile. "No, really," I continued. "Who are you? And where are you hiding your two guns and a knife?"

"As hard as you're looking if you can't see them then I guess they're well camouflaged," he said. "Let's go."

In a matter of minutes, we were heading north on I-95. It looked like it wouldn't be Shorty's tonight. That was okay with me. I'd had a lot of pizza in the last few days, and I'd seen it all twice. I shuddered at the thought. It appeared he had somewhere else in mind, and since he wasn't in a talkative mood I relaxed and concentrated on enjoying the ride. I was in a grey Macan with a man wearing chukka boots. I would have been more intrigued if I hadn't been trying to tamp down the memory of everything I'd viewed earlier in the day. I wondered if Ranger was doing some tamping down of his own.

I assumed we were going to Newark, but when we passed Newark, I gave up and asked.

"Havana on the Hudson," he said.

"Oh, like the Newark version of the Burg?"

"No."

And that was the extent of our conversation until he pulled the Macan up in front of a small, brightly lit restaurant. The sign over the door read "Marcario's."

My door was opened simultaneously with Ranger's and a valet held his hand out to help me. I looked over at Ranger as he nonchalantly handed the keys to the uniformed man standing at his side of the car.

"Uh, are we dressed okay for this place?" I asked. The valet service indicated that possibly this wasn't casual dining.

"We're fine," Ranger said. He placed his hand at the small of my back and guided me through the door. We were met almost immediately by a maître d, who greeted Ranger warmly. At least it sounded warm. Ranger responded with equal warmness, and I observed the full 200-watt smile. Even though it wasn't directed at me, it was breathtaking.

A woman appeared in front of us. A hostess I assumed. She was speaking Spanish as well. We followed her to the back of the restaurant and, no surprise, we were seated at a table discretely distanced from the others. Ranger and I sat next to one another on the banquette against the wall. Typical Ranger seating. We probably looked like lovers to the other diners, involved with one another, needing no one else. I wished that was the true story.

"May I order for you?" he asked. "The menu is in Spanish, and it would be simpler…"

"Have at it," I interrupted. "Just don't forget dessert."

When the waitress appeared at the table he ordered and, I think, exchanged some pleasantries with her.

"Ranger, where are we?"

"We're still in Jersey. Just a little north of Newark," he said.

"I don't mean where we are like that. What is this place? Why does everyone know you?"

He didn't answer immediately, as yet another young woman stood before us. She placed two small glasses mostly full of a golden liquid before us. Ranger thanked her and she gave us her own high wattage smile before she left us alone.

"She's my cousin," Ranger said. "Almost everyone who works here is a cousin of some degree. My uncle owns the place and although I haven't seen him tonight and probably won't, he knows we're here." He lifted the glass. "This is Cuban rum. Illegal to import for resale, but it can be brought into the country for personal use. I didn't order an appetizer, so he's given us this instead. There will probably be another glass at the end of our meal."

He reached his glass out as though to toast so I lifted mine and gently touched the glass to his although he made no toast. Ranger was a man of few words and tonight he had even fewer. That was okay because I had things I wanted to say.

"I have a plan, Ranger. Can I tell you now?"

He was motionless for a moment and then he nodded.

"Well, I don't exactly have a plan," I recanted. "It's more like an idea. I'm counting on you to help me with the plan part," I said. "I had a brief conversation with Ella this morning and I bumped into Louis as I left the building. They are both hurting so badly. You can see it in the way Ella moves, and in her eyes. When I saw the tape today, I knew they can never know about it."

Ranger sighed. "We have the proof we need and you're right. We can't use it."

"That's where I come in," I said. "Rafael plans to see me. At least that's what he said to me at the courthouse. We need to let that happen, in some sort of controlled setting. I can make him talk, I think. I can get a confession from him and if we can somehow get it on tape…"

"And how do you propose to do that?"

"I'm not sure, but I am sure I'm willing to do that. When I watched the video today, I realized I had to do it. Partly for Ella and Louis and partly for me. I'm not afraid of him anymore. I want him to pay for what he did."

"For what he did to David or what he did to you?"

"Both, and…" I stopped abruptly as a waiter delivered our food to the table. I watched as the plates of food were set in front of us.

"Lechon Asado," Ranger said. "Roast pork with rice and beans and fried plantain. Let's eat and we'll continue our conversation on the way home."

Dessert was flan, a single portion serving. I ate and Ranger watched as he sipped yet another small glass of rum. He was quiet observing both me and the other patrons in the restaurant. He finished the rum and twirled the glass slowly in his hand.

"Thinking about having another?" I asked. "Do I get to be the designated driver?"

"I'm fine. If you're finished, we should go. We've both had a momentous day and we should probably get back soon as there are decisions to be made."

"What decisions?" I asked. "And we can't go yet. We don't have the bill."

He ignored my first question. "There is no charge. I'm family." He stood from the banquette and held out his hand to me to help me slide from behind the table. He was acting odd, or maybe it was normal for him, and I didn't realize it. I'd never seen him in this setting, completely removed from his RangeMan persona.

We stopped at the front of the restaurant near the maitre'd. Ranger smiled at a man standing in the shadows beside a large potted palm tree. The man stepped forward and he and Ranger embraced. Some rapid-fire Spanish was exchanged between the two men, but it seemed like friendly bantering. Ranger turned and pulled me toward him.

"Tio, this is Stephanie. Stephanie, my uncle Marc."

Uncle Marc grasped both my hands and squeezed them tightly. "Stephanie, it's good to meet you. You are more beautiful than Carlos said."

"Th-thank you," I replied. I was at a loss for words. I have never considered myself beautiful, and it had just been implied that Ranger had told his uncle I was—that he had spoken to his family about me! I was having trouble forming logical thoughts let alone words.

"Tell me," his uncle said. "What trouble is it you have, Carlos?"

"I have no trouble."

"You do. You only come here when you need the solace of family."

"I came because I wanted Stephanie to experience your restaurant."

"So, the trouble isn't personal?" His uncle asked.

Ranger laughed. It sounded like a sincere laugh. "I have no personal trouble." He pulled me in closer to him. "But you are correct, Tio. I am preoccupied tonight. It's business, not personal. You can assure my mother, I'm fine."

His uncle bowed somberly. "I will report to her." He wished us safe travels as though we were embarking on an arduous journey instead of an hour and a half trip back to Trenton. Once again, they embraced and then we went outside to find the Macan waiting.

We drove in silence for several blocks and then Ranger said, "You talk about the Burg grapevine. There is one here, too. I'm sure my mother knows already that I had dinner with you. My uncle is her brother, and they are very close."

"You look like your father then?" I asked and was rewarded a small smile. His uncle was shorter than Ranger by a good four inches and he probably outweighed him by forty pounds.

"I do," he said. "I have been trying in recent months to see my family more often. For many years there was distance, both geographically and emotionally between us. I do not bring RangeMan into my family's space if I can avoid it. That's why you see me dressed as I am."

"They don't approve?"

"Much like your mother, my mother would prefer me to have a less adventurous life."

That was the end of the conversation for the rest of the trip. Ranger's mention of my mother had sent me down a rabbit hole I wanted to avoid but needed to deal with. I couldn't imagine where Ranger's thoughts had drifted. Waiting until we were back at RangeMan was fine with me, but then I would tell him what was on my mind and see if he agreed.