CHAPTER 48

DAY 3 TRENTON

Tuesday

Trigger Warning: This chapter mentions suicide.

I pulled into my parking space in the Rangeman garage and loaded my gun into my hip holster. Ranger required all his employees to be armed, even while working in the building. If I wanted to be taken seriously, I had to act professionally and adhere to the rules. Besides, now that I was properly trained, I no longer feared my gun.

Getting off the elevator on the fifth floor, I swung by the monitor station to say hi to the guys, but the two on duty were unfamiliar. I stopped in my tracks. The blonde one sneered as he looked me up and down then he elbowed his brown-haired friend, saying something under his breath that I couldn't hear. They both leered at me with what I could only describe as contempt. It's not like any of the Merry Men were overly friendly, but this was next level. I'm not saying they had to smile with all their teeth showing or anything, but sheesh, they didn't have to stare me down, either. I turned around to see if an enemy combatant had come up behind me. Nope. All their disdain was aimed at me. Maybe they'd heard about my cars exploding or were afraid I'd stun them like I'd stunned Hal. My reputation did proceed me. Still, it was weird, and the tiny hairs standing up on the back of my neck agreed.

Thanks to Finn's books, I'd gotten a decent read off these guys and didn't like a single thing I picked up on. I might be off base, but I think I found my first two suspects in Rangeman's saboteur case. Narrowing my eyes, I rubbed my palm over the gun at my waist and stepped toward them to let them know I wasn't someone to mess with. Their heads swung back to the monitors and stayed laser-focused on the screens as if a robbery was in progress. I circled around the monitor bay and continued to my desk. I'd need to keep my eyes on those two.

A big, blonde hulking mass came out of the breakroom and ran into me. "Sorry, Steph. Oh! Hey, you're back." Hal smiled the full grill before bending over to pick up his granola bar. Now this was more like the welcome I'd been expecting.

Before I could respond, I was swarmed by Merry Men. There were hugs all around and compliments about how fit I looked. They weren't used to seeing a locked and loaded Stephanie, and their bewildered expressions made me laugh. These were confusing times for the Merry Men. They would probably have heart attacks when they saw me decked out in my bounty hunter gear.

Greetings and questions about where I'd been were rapidly fired at me until Tank's voice boomed, "Get back to work." He smiled when everyone scattered, and his entire face lit up when he saw my hip holster. He nodded and clapped me on the back. "Nice piece. Good to have you back, Steph." I lurched forward a little because Tank might have considered that a gentle pat but with his strength and big paws, it was more like the whack you give someone who's choking, then follow it up with the Heimlich maneuver.

"Thanks," I said, glancing at Ranger's office door to find him leaning against the frame. He seemed content to watch his men interacting with me and didn't offer to come closer. I looked over at my empty desk and back at Ranger and Tank. "I'm here to help with searches, but I guess you don't need me." It was like a herd of buffalo behind me. I turned to see what was going on. The guys were shoving each other out of the way to put stacks of search requests on my desk.

"You're wrong about that," Ranger said, eyes unwaveringly on me, not the pile of new files on my desk. Was he saying Rangeman needed me, or he needed me personally? It was too early in the morning to analyze his meaning.

"Do either of you have any searches you need me to do? I can do them first."

Tank went into his office and returned with two files. "If you could do your magic on these, I'd appreciate it."

I opened the files and noticed a lot of info had already been compiled. "Were you looking for something specific?"

"No. It's a hail mary, so don't beat yourself up if you find nothing new."

"I'll do my best."

Ranger stepped closer and handed me a file. I opened it and gave it a quick look. It was the current list of Rangeman employees to help me route out the saboteur. Luckily for me, the list was arranged in order of the newest to oldest hire dates. "Come to my office before you leave," he said. I nodded, and he went into his office and closed the door.

I got a cup of coffee from the breakroom and ran into Lester. "Hey Les, who're the new guys on monitors?"

"You mean Sasser and Henderson? Tank hired them three months ago. Did they say something to you? Are they bothering you?"

"No. They didn't say a word to me."

"Then what's with the face? Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

I laughed and spewed coffee. "No, I don't have to go to the bathroom. Why would you ask me that?"

He shrugged. "You had the same look my little cousin Nando gets when he has to go potty."

"Sheesh." I spun around and went to my desk. It was like I'd never left. My chair still had my butt print, and my box of Butterscotch Krimpets was still in my desk drawer.

I set my four laptops to search databases for the names Tank gave me. After several trips to the printer, I had enough information from Tank's files to start highlighting. Before I got into that, I reviewed the list of employees Ranger gave me. Rangeman had hired forty new guys in the last six months. Cross-referencing employment dates with the dates of the first suspected sabotage left me with nineteen potential suspects. And wouldn't you know it, Sasser and Henderson, were on the list. Of course, I was going to run them first. They'd piqued my interest, and I wanted to know what made them tick. I set two of my laptops to search their names and the other two laptops to search names from the Merry Men's files. There was only one of me, and I wanted to leave here with as many people happy as possible.

With my trusty highlighter locked and loaded, I started going through the information I printed off for Tank. Whoever had initially researched these files didn't dig deep enough. I uncovered a few interesting details I thought Tank would find helpful and took the files to his office.

His door was open, and I heard Tank chuckle, so I stuck my head in. "Are you watching viral cat videos on company time?" I tsked.

He smiled but casually looked behind me, searching for Ranger, I bet. "Come in and look at this. He held his phone out, and I saw five fluffy kittens roughhousing with each other.

"Oh my gosh. They are so adorable. Are they yours?"

"Sort of. I kind of got roped into fostering this litter after…." His features fell, and he looked down. "An old Army buddy killed himself a few weeks ago."

"I'm so sorry, Tank. Is there anything I can do?"

"Doesn't seem like there's anything anyone can do to stop former service members from killing themselves. Twenty-two a day. Did you know that?"

I nodded. I remembered reading that statistic and being horrified.

"I should have seen it coming. Jim struggled for a long time with PTSD and depression. Along with medication, his doctor suggested he do volunteer work to help give him a sense of purpose. He didn't like that idea, so he ignored the advice, and then his neighbor up and moved, leaving their pregnant cat behind. Jim took the cat in and helped with the birth. Caring for the mama cat and kittens made him feel like he was making a difference. My cat, Applepuff, was from that litter. I think I've shown you pictures of her before. He also gave me Miss Kitty and Suzy, but they were from different litters." He angled his phone so I could see the screen. A video of three adult cats, each sleeping on a perch in a cat tree, started playing.

"Do they sleep all day?"

"Most of the day, yes. This is from a surveillance camera, so I can check on them while I'm at work."

I smiled because, of course, Tank would be an awesome cat parent. Still, it reminded me of Mrs. Porter, who had set up her version of a nanny cam to watch over her son Charlie, and he'd still been kidnapped. Unfortunately, Mrs. Porter died, but Oz and I found Charlie and returned him to his father.

"Jim started working with a trap and release rescue organization," Tank continued. "He'd go out to properties that reported feral cats and set up traps. He used his own money to have them spayed or neutered. The ones that couldn't be domesticated were released to be barn cats. That's where they were happiest. Sometimes he was contacted to take in mama cats about to deliver. I told Hector what Jim was doing. He went over to set up cameras and showed Jim how to upload the videos to Facebook and Instagram. Jim had quite a following. He was amazed that people were interested in watching him foster a litter of kittens. Somedays, his followers were the only people he communicated with. He called them his cat community. His interaction with them kept him alive. When he… passed… there was an outpouring of grief from his online community. People he didn't know from all over the world were heartbroken."

I wiped a stream of tears from my eyes. "Wow. Jim sounds like such a giving man. I wish I could have met him."

"Yeah, he would have liked you." Tank flipped back to the live feed of the kittens nursing. "At Jim's funeral, I met the woman who runs the rescue organization. Somehow, she roped me into fostering this mama and her babies."

"Why does that one have its nose in the corner?"

"It's the weirdest thing. Rosey latibulates after using the litter box, so she doesn't have to face the rest of the litter. I think she's embarrassed that she doesn't have more privacy. She'll probably stop doing it once she goes to her forever home."

I laughed. "Latibulate? What the heck does that even mean?"

He lowered his chin and raised one eyebrow. "It means to hide away in a corner. Why do people assume I have nothing going on between my ears because I'm a big guy with iron muscles?"

"I'm sorry it sounded that way," I quickly said. "I've just never heard that word before." He nodded, and just like that, my apology was accepted. I looked back at the kitten with her nose in the corner. "She's so stinking cute."

"You want her? You can have your pick."

I shook my head. "I wish I could, but Rex wouldn't like a cat in my small apartment. Did you ask Ranger if he wanted one?"

Tank grinned. "I thought we were friends, Plum. Are you trying to get me killed?"

I handed Tank the two files he'd asked me to do my magic on. He put his phone away and gave me his attention. "I found a few things you might find interesting."

"Let me see what you found." He skimmed everything, focusing on the highlighted areas. His eyes widened a few times and then narrowed a few times. I couldn't tell if he was pleased with what I'd uncovered. Finally, he said, "This is good work. I don't know how you do it. I ran these names myself. So did Ryan and Vince."

"Thanks." I turned to go and called over my shoulder, "I'll put the word out that the kittens need a home."

"Don't forget the mama cat, Hazel. She deserves a good home too. She's only a year old."

"Will do."

I returned to my cubicle to work on the saboteur investigation. I'd completed six names for that case and finished three more files for the Merry Men when I smelled something wonderful. Sniffing, I looked up to find Ella rolling her cart past my desk. "Mmm. Smells good. What's for lunch?" I asked.

"Hello, dear. It's good having you back in the building. Today, we have two kinds of lasagna." She pointed to the first pan. "This one is the traditional kind with pasta, and this one is a healthier option with eggplant instead of noodles. It's good if you're watching your carbs and sugar intake."

"Have you heard of zoodles?" I asked.

"Yes, dear. Would you like me to make something with them? When will you be working again?"

"I'll be back here the day after tomorrow, but don't go to any trouble on my account."

She patted my shoulder. "It's no trouble, dear. I love trying new recipes." My heart panged with missing Finn.

I pushed my chair under my desk and walked with her to the breakroom. "I'm trying to eat healthier these days, so I think I'll try the eggplant lasagna."

"Alright, dear. Just make sure to leave enough for Cal."

Hearing his name, Cal got up from his desk and walked with us to the breakroom. "Thanks for the heads up, Ella. If I don't get here first, those bozos will eat my special food." He dipped a large portion of the healthy lasagna onto his plate.

"I wouldn't let that happen, Cal. I always watch the pan until you've gotten yours before leaving."

He hugged her. "I know. Thanks, Ella."

Something was going on here, but I didn't understand what it was. I dipped my portion of the healthy lasagna and watched Cal take a seat at one of the tables. He waved his phone over a round object clearly outlined under his Rangeman shirt. What the heck was on his bicep?

Curious, I placed my tray on the table beside him and sat. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, hey, Steph. I'm checking my glucose level." He blew out a breath. "I'm diabetic."

"When did that happen?"

"About a month ago. Went for my routine physical with Bones, and… yeah. This is my life now."

"Wow. What does this mean? Are you going to be okay?"

"Sure. I already exercise almost daily. I just need to lay off the beer and eat a little better when I'm off duty. I've always had a sweet tooth, you know?"

"Me too." Living without sweets for three months with Finn had been hard. I couldn't imagine never having sweets again. Damn! If it could happen to Cal, it could happen to anyone.

I made a face. "I don't get it. You're not overweight."

"It's not about being overweight. My body just can't regulate glucose anymore."

"Wow. I'm sorry. What kinds of things can you eat?"

"I'm still figuring that out. But the basics is no sugar and no carbs."

"No offense, but that would be my worst nightmare."

"It wasn't great news for me either. Came as a surprise, really. I mean, I work out, I'm fit, I eat the right things, but here I am anyway. Since my diagnosis, Ella's started making a diabetic option for my breaks. It's really helped a lot. I'm not much of a cook, so I'm kind of lost when I'm at home." He turned to me. "Did you know Luis has diabetes too?"

"No. I didn't know that."

"Bones gave me tips and information to deal with my new diagnosis, but Ella's the one who has saved my life. I don't know what I'd do without her."

"Yeah, Ella's the best," Lester said as he and Hector sat their trays down across from us. "Between Ella and Hector's Mama, I eat pretty damn good."

"Maybe I should put in more hours at Rangeman," I said. "Ella food is definitely a perk you don't get anywhere else."

"Enough about me and my fucking diabetes," Cal said. "Where've you been, Steph? Ranger's been on edge since he got back to town."

"I went away for training. It was like civilian boot camp."

"Really? Where was it? Who runs the boot camp? This community is pretty small. I bet we know them." He motioned between himself, Lester, Hector, and Ram, who had joined the group.

I smiled. "I'd rather not say. But if you want me to show you how much I learned by kicking your ass, I'm game."

"Oh, big words from such a little girl," Cal said.

"I was also trained in precision long-range shooting."

Cal's eyebrows rose, making his skull tattoo crinkle. I was going to tell him about my archery skills, but I didn't want his head to explode.

"What's your distance," Cal asked.

"I was accurate to 900 yards, but then I had to come home. So, I could have done better with more practice."

"Damn! 900 yards is fucking awesome."

"It is? Fi… I mean, my trainer said I had good aim, but I didn't know. What's your distance?"

"I was a sniper in the Army. My range of accuracy is close to a mile. I wouldn't mind getting some rifle time in. Maybe see what you got."

"Sure. I was worried I wouldn't be able to keep my newly acquired skills sharp since I'm home now. But we have to go to a range and shoot artificial targets. I don't kill animals."

"I did enough hunting in the Army to last me a lifetime."

"But I don't have a rifle."

"Good thing for you I have ten." We all laughed.

"Yeah," Lester said. "Cal's a bit of a weapons hoarder."

Cal straightened and addressed Lester. "What I am is good at my craft, and I need the right instruments." He turned back to me. "I'll let you try out my 300 Win Mag." He offered me a fist bump, and I accepted.

"We should take Steph to your cabin in the Poconos, Ram," Lester said. "We could have a Rangeman field trip." His devilish smile made me wonder what kind of hazing I would suffer.

I turned to Ram. "I'm sure your cabin is lovely, but I think I'll pass. Lester looks a little too pleased with himself, which makes me scared."

Lester slapped his hand on the table. "Ha! You admit it. You're scared your skills won't measure up to mine. I am next level, baby."

It was my turn to smile evilly. "That's not what Ella said. She complains that your aim is way off every time she cleans your toilet."

There were choruses of, "Oh, burn! She's got your number, man! Steph, don't play!"

Lester mimed being shot in the heart and fell into the empty chair beside him. I sighed and shook my head at his antics. I missed Finn and the solitude of his mountain, but I was glad to be home.

With my belly deliciously full, I returned to my desk to run a few more searches for the Merry Men. Then I turned my attention to the saboteur case. Having information on the Rangeman new hires was useful. Still, I really needed to find out about the owner of Elite Securities, Cole Reynolds. The initial Rangeman report had only surface information. I wanted to dig deeper into the man and discover what made him tick. In my experience, that was essential in figuring out what they would do next.

Cole Reynolds, 45 years old, was a former Navy SEAL with Department of Defense level security clearance. Any more information on that front would be a dead end. Ranger would have to use his contacts to determine how connected this guy was. That was out of my wheelhouse.

Reynolds is the second born in a family with deep ties to charismatic leader Byron DeSandalwood, who founded "The Traditional Way," a fundamentalist group aiming to restore women's repressive roles. The group wants to reclaim the previous status quo of the 1950s, where women were kept barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen. In other words, they want to make misogyny in America normal again. Sounds like a cult to me, if there ever was one.

After Reynolds graduated from Groverton College, a Midwestern private conservative school, with a degree in Business Analytics, he was commissioned as an officer in the United States Navy. Before he left for the military, he married his high school sweetheart. Together, they had three daughters. His wife suffered a long and agonizing health crisis and died before their twelfth anniversary. Less than a year later, he married his deceased wife's best friend and publicly acknowledged her two-year-old son as his biological child. That meant he had cheated on his dying wife with her best friend and had a love child. What a prince.

His second wife filed for divorce after seven years of marriage, citing mental and verbal abuse. It was a nasty battle that lasted more than a year. He fought for sole custody and won by smearing her name and painting her as mentally unstable because she'd sought help for post-partum depression after the birth of their child. Since she had signed a prenup, she had little financial means to fight him for custody.

Since his divorce, he's been linked to Courtney Montrose, a former Miss. America contestant. There is speculation that wedding bells aren't far off. I wonder if she knows what she's getting into.

As I uncovered each layer of Cole Reynold's life, I stumbled upon a credit card charge for a flower delivery to Casandra (Cassie) Danvers at an address in Manhattan, New York. The flowers were delivered a month ago. There could be several reasons why he would send flowers to this woman. Still, my guy told me to dig deeper, and I knew I was on to something when I located her picture and birthdate. She was beautiful and young, only twenty-five. She was a popular beauty influencer on YouTube. She makes enough money to live comfortably in the city, but her rent is being paid by Alpha Innovations LLC. My recent introduction to LLCs made me suspicious, so I followed the money trail as far as I could. Since the LLC had been set up in Delaware, I could only find the registered agent's name. Seems the agent is much like the registered agent on my LLC. His job was to establish the anonymous company and not much else.

I would bet a dozen donuts that Alpha Innovations LLC belonged to Cole Reynolds, and he was paying the rent on his mistress's apartment. NYC was close enough for him to frequently go into the city to take care of business and personal needs all in one go. His current girlfriend, Courtney Montrose, and seemingly the woman he loved, would have no idea what he was getting up to while he was supposedly in the city on business.

Now that I knew the name of what I suspected was his anonymous LLC, I could see what else he paid for using that business account. It was another avenue to get to know the man. But from everything I'd learned, I could already tell he didn't value women. I'd had my fair share of encounters with men like Cole Reynolds. They thought women were subservient to men. This guy needed a major wake-up call. I was hoping to find enough evidence to destroy him and Elite Security. Not so much for Ranger and Rangeman but for all women.

When I came up for air, I checked the time. Shit! I'd promised my mom I'd take Grandma to a viewing at four, which meant I had thirty minutes to get across town, change out of my uniform, and pick her up. It wasn't enough to drop her off. I was supposed to stay with her to ensure she didn't get into trouble.

I shut my computers down and gathered the files of potential saboteurs to take with me. I couldn't leave them lying around for anyone to happen upon. Opening my messenger bag to shove in the files, I saw my skip files. Dangit! I forgot to run my own searches. I guess they could wait another day or two.

Remembering that Ranger wanted me to stop by his office before I left to update him on my progress with the saboteur investigation, I veered in his direction. I knocked and stuck my head inside after he said to enter. "I've got to take my grandmother to a viewing. Can we talk about the… you know, later?"

"Don't get into trouble." He smiled, knowing full well what kind of mischief Grandma gets up to.

"Me or Grandma?"

"Both." His smile deepened because he knew me very well, too.

AN: Seems the Merry Men missed Steph. Poor Cal has diabetes. What are your thoughts on Cole Reynolds? Next chapter is Grandma at the funeral home. Will she behave?