A/N: I was right. I tried to hold out for an entire week before releasing this chapter, but I am weak and enjoying this story myself. I hope you like it, too!


Chapter Two

Tank, Lester, Bobby, and Hector were in my parking lot near the back entrance to my building when I pulled in. They motioned to me when I saw them, and I noticed they saved me a parking spot near their SUV. That was a massive improvement from the usual spot next to the dumpster where I was usually forced to park.

Hector opened my door for me and held out his hand. "Feliz cumpleaños," he said, kissing my hand.

"Happy Birthday, Beautiful," Lester sang, grabbing my arm and twirling me around.

Next, Bobby smiled and hugged me. "Happy Birthday, Bomber," he said.

I smiled and thanked them while concentrating on listening to their thoughts.

Lester's thoughts were surprising. Even though I was only wearing old jeans with a rip at the knee, a sweatshirt, and my unruly hair was pulled back into a ponytail, he thought I looked beautiful. He also thought Ranger was an idiot. There was no other context for that particular thought, and he didn't spell it out. Man, it was frustrating only to hear partial thoughts. It's too bad he doesn't behave like one of those movie villains who finally captures the hero and then can't shut up and reveals all the intricate details of his scheme.

Hector's thoughts were in Spanish, so I couldn't understand them. But right before I tuned out, there was an interesting flash of a hot fireman wearing only his big fireproof pants, suspenders and no shirt. I would have liked to follow that thought through its conclusion, but I got distracted by Tank.

Tank took hold of me next and kissed my forehead. "Happy Birthday, Little Girl." He had a weird look on his face, but I couldn't place it, and I wasn't sure he'd explain if I asked, so I kept my questions to myself.

"Is Ranger already gone?" I asked.

He nodded. Damned fool. He could have told her where he was going. Then she wouldn't look as worried as she does.

Hmm. That was interesting. Where did Ranger go, and if it wasn't bad, why didn't he tell me?

"Did you have a good day today, Beautiful?" Lester asked.

"Not really. The best part was you guys coming to wish me happy birthday."

Bobby hugged me. "You know we all adore you, Bomber. If you ever want to chat or hang out, just come by. We love seeing you." You remind me so much of my sister, Ana—such a beautiful spirit.

"Thanks, Bobby. I adore you guys, too."

"Bomber, I'm sorry, but we can't stay. We have a takedown for one of Vinnie's scumballs in an hour. But we couldn't let the day pass without wishing you a happy birthday."

"Thanks, you guys. It means so much to me that you took the time to come see me."

They piled into a big black SUV and took off, tooting the horn as they exited the parking lot. Full of sudden cheer and goodwill, I bounded up the stairs to my second-floor apartment. I was out of my Morelli-caused black mood now.

I relaxed with a hot bubble bath, then settled into my couch for a special birthday viewing of Ghostbusters. I couldn't stop thinking about Ranger, though, and I wondered again where he'd gone this time. Tank seemed to think he should have told me where, but why would he believe that? Did it involve me somehow? And did Ranger mean it when he thought he'd never survive if something happened to me? I felt like I was in a whirlpool of Ranger thoughts. Hearing what he was thinking when he talked to me had me reeling.

I woke up early the next morning. I didn't really know why because it wasn't my usual routine, but I was wide awake and knew I wouldn't fall asleep again. I sighed and got up, then went to the kitchen to make coffee.

As I sipped it, I remembered the package from my grandmother. I found my jeans on the bathroom floor, rummaged in the pocket and pulled out the small wrapped package. I opened it to find a lidded box, similar to what I'd seen people give gift cards in. When I opened it, I was surprised to find it stuffed with pieces of paper. I took out the top page and unfolded it to read.

Dear Stephie,

Happy birthday to my favourite granddaughter (don't tell Valerie!) Your grandfather made me promise that if he wasn't around, I was to give you this gift when you turned thirty. I don't know what his plan was if we were both gone to our heavenly reward, but I suppose it doesn't matter since I am here. I hope you do good things with it, Stephie dear.

Love, Grandma.

Nestled under the note from Grandma was another folded paper, but this one was a standard printer paper weight. I lifted it out, unfolded it and read the page. It was a summary of a bank account, seemingly in my name, and the total at the bottom told me there was just over two hundred and seventy thousand dollars in the account. The bank was local, but not the one I usually used. I dropped the document and whispered, "Holy shit." I needn't have whispered since I was alone, but I was so shocked I couldn't get anything else out.

After finishing my coffee, showering and dressing, I grabbed the papers, stuffed them back into the gift box and drove to my parents' house. They all woke up pretty early, and I needed to talk to Grandma about this. I know for sure Valerie didn't get a present like this when she turned thirty, two years ago, so I figured this should be a private conversation. Maybe I can take her out for breakfast or something.

The 'Burg early warning system was in full effect, and my mother and grandmother were waiting for me on the top step of their house. How in the hell do they do that?

"Hi, Mom, hi, Grandma," I said with a smile. "How are you this morning?"

"Good morning, Stephanie," my mom replied.

"Morning, Stephie. You're up and about early," Grandma noted.

I stopped on the step below her and hugged her tightly. "We need to talk, Grandma," I whispered.

I stepped back and tried to listen to their thoughts. I wasn't sure how exact that twenty-four-hour timeline from Diesel was, and this was about twenty-five hours since he popped into my apartment yesterday. Apparently, the timeline was legit because I couldn't hear anything anyone left unsaid. Oh, well. I didn't love it, anyway.

"Would you like some breakfast, Stephanie?" my mom offered.

"Sure, Mom, that'd be great. Thank you." We went inside, and I followed her to the kitchen. I poured some orange juice for all of us and sat at the little kitchen table with Grandma.

"Stephie, would you drive me to the salon after breakfast? I need a touch-up on my colour," Grandma said.

I smiled and said, "Sure, Grandma." I knew she was just making an excuse to get out of the house so we could talk. Obviously, she knew what I needed to discuss with her.

After our breakfast of blueberry pancakes and bacon, I thanked my mom and said goodbye before walking with Grandma outside.

"Do you really need to go to the salon?" I asked after we settled in my car.

"Yes, but not for another hour," she admitted. "I know you want to talk about what was in that box, right?"

"Got it in one, Grandma."

I drove us to the park and let the vehicle idle so the heater would keep running. I unbuckled my seat belt and turned in the seat to face her.

"It's your money, Stephie. I have my own. I haven't told your mother or father about it, so please keep it to yourself."

"Why do you live with them if you can afford to live alone? I thought Dad drove you crazy?"

She grinned. "I like driving him crazy, too. But mostly, I got lonely living by myself after your grandpa died. When I go, I'll leave your parents and Valerie the rest of my money, and they'll be glad for it."

"Why did Grandpa ask you to give me this money now?"

She took my hand in hers, and her expression turned soft. "Stephie, he too was there when you were growing up. He saw how hard you had it compared to Valerie. When you came to our house crying because of something your mother did, it broke his heart that we couldn't do much to help you other than listen with a sympathetic ear. When we won the lottery, we didn't change our lives much. He wanted you to have some of it so you'd have options."

"How much did you win?" I asked, curious.

"Just over half a million dollars," she answered. "We didn't spend much of it, and he invested the rest before he died. Now, I just use some of the interest to supplement my social security check. He said I should give you two hundred thousand, plus the interest. Last week, I opened an account for you at my bank and deposited it."

"Why didn't he give Val a share when she turned thirty?"

"She's married to a lawyer in a big house out in California. Lawyers make a lot of money. Plus, he didn't like her husband. He thought Steven had shifty eyes, and he didn't want him to get his hands on any of the money."

We talked for a while longer, and when I told her Vinnie had stopped giving me skips, she clucked her tongue in annoyance. "Segglyuk!" (Asshole!) I didn't know a lot of Hungarian, only the curse words, and I recognized that one. "Stephie, you should quit that job and find something you love. With this money, you can take a bit of time off and figure out what you want to do that will make you happy. Maybe you can take a vacation with that hot bounty hunter with the excellent package." She clicked her dentures, and I laughed. If only that were a possibility, I thought wistfully.

"Thank you, Grandma." I hugged her tightly, then drove her to the Clip 'n Curl salon.

I couldn't get her advice out of my head, though. Working for Vinnie and earning peanuts was starting to lose its appeal quickly, and now I couldn't even rely on that.

As I drove home, I called Connie and asked if there were any files for me. I didn't want to bother even going to the office if there wasn't anything. She told me there wasn't, and I thanked her before hanging up.

I wondered again about the possibility of working for Rangeman. I like working in law enforcement, even on the periphery, like I do now. I like that every day is a little different, and I can wear what I want and don't have to wear pantyhose. I don't think there are enough strong words to express how much I hate pantyhose. But would they just make me do searches all the time? I couldn't do that—it's too dull. My butt gets numb when I constantly sit in that chair, not to mention growing wide and flat. I shuddered. Maybe I could train and become a field agent like the guys? I should talk to Tank. Ranger's not here right now anyway, and Tank is more neutral. I don't think he'd sugarcoat it and tell me I could do the job if I couldn't.

I made the next right turn, changing my mind about going home. I might as well talk to Tank right now, and he's sure to be there with Ranger out of town.

Fifteen minutes later, I was seated in the chair in front of Tank's massive desk; the surface was covered in piles of papers. Tank looked a little aggravated, and if he had hair, I could almost picture him pulling it out in tufts.

"I'll get right to the point since I can see you're busy," I began. "Do you think, if I get training and follow all your rules, that there would be a place for me at Rangeman? Please be honest. Do you think I could hack it?"

"What's going on, Little Girl?" Tank asked with a frown. "Do you need money?"

I chuckled. If only he knew. For the first time since I've known him, I finally did not need any money. "Nothing like that, Big Guy. But Vinnie has been giving my skips to Joyce the Barnyard Slut, and I am tired of dealing with him. But I like what I do, usually, and I thought maybe I could come work here."

He raised his eyebrow. "You'd be willing to train, work out, and always carry your gun? Loaded?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes. I think so."

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh, Steph. Either you can commit to it, or you can't. It's your decision. But if you worked here and were out in the field with a partner, your partner deserves your respect and to know that you've got his back if shit got real."

I hadn't thought about it quite that way before. In that case, there was nothing to think about. "I can commit," I replied.

"You'd have to be fully qualified before beginning fieldwork. We'd set up a training schedule and goals for you to achieve. The men are required to hit the male Army goals, and we'd use the female Army goals for you."

"So, how would it work? Would I work in the office until I'm field-rated?"

"We can work out an arrangement that works for everyone. For example, I know you have a business degree. So we could arrange for you to spend the entire morning training, then spend the afternoons in the office, performing office duties and helping with research."

I thought about that for a moment. "That sounds good. So, um, is this you hiring me?" I smiled.

Tank let out a short bark of laughter. "I guess it is, Little Girl. When can you start?"

"Would it be too much of a bother to give me two weeks? I'm going to tell Vinnie I'm done, but I'd kind of like to take a bit of a vacation before I start."

"A vacation? Where are you going?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know yet, but something my grandma said stuck with me, and I'm going to get outta here for a week or two. When I get back, I can jump in with both feet."

"Alright, Steph. You can start two weeks from Monday." He consulted a calendar. "That'll be the thirtieth of October."

"Thank you, Tank. I'll see you then." I shook his hand, making him chuckle, and exited his office.

I drove to Vinnie's Bonds office next. There was no time like the present to let them know I was leaving.

Connie and Lula were in the office when I arrived. "Hi, guys," I said when I walked through the door. I plopped down on the couch and set down my bag. "Is Vinnie in?"

Connie shook her head. "He's at the station writing a bond right now. He should be back in about an hour."

"Okay. I guess I'll wait for him to come back."

Connie frowned. "What's going on? Why do you need to talk to Vinnie? Are you going to give him hell for giving the low-bonds to Joyce?"

"He is a slimeball for that, but no. I'm quitting to work full-time for Rangeman."

"I thought Batman was out of town?" Lula was confused.

"He is. Tank and I talked, and he hired me." I had a thought strike me. "Do you think Ranger would be upset that Tank hired me?"

Lula shook her head. "Nah, White Girl, Batman's crazy about you. And I'm sure Tankie wouldn't hire you if he thought Batman wouldn't like it. But I can't believe you're gonna leave me here."

"I'm sorry, Lula. Connie will still be here, though. There's no point in staying here when Vinnie gives my skips to Joyce the Skank, and I was getting tired of never having enough money to live. It's just time to go."

"Well, I'm going to miss working with you every day. Hey, do you think Rangeman would hire me, too? Then we could still go after their skips."

The truth was, I didn't think they'd ever hire Lula. She's utterly undisciplined with her gun and even worse than me with fitness and diet. "I'm not sure, Lula. But could you see yourself following all their rules? It's pretty rigid."

She frowned as she thought about it. "You're probably right. I'm a big, beautiful woman, and I can't express myself wearing all them boring black SWAT clothes."

I nodded, picked up the magazine Lula discarded and started leafing through it. Near the end, I landed on a page with a beautiful tropical view from a set of windows framing the page. At the bottom was the tagline, "It's Better in The Bahamas."

Hmm. I wonder how much it would cost to go on vacation for a week to The Bahamas? It looked so beautiful, and lying on the beach, working on my tan sounded heavenly. I'd definitely have to check for cheap flights when I got home.

Vinnie came in and scowled at us. "What am I paying you all for?" he yelled. "All three of you just sitting on your fat asses doing nothing."

I snorted. "Shut up, Vinnie. You don't pay me unless I bring in skips for you, and lately, you've been giving all my skips to your barnyard buddy. So, consider yesterday my last day. I quit."

I waved at Connie and Lula and stomped out of the office to my car. There. Done. I felt lighter and free already.