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Flare Up

I drove slowly back to the Rangeman office, where I sat waiting, forcing myself not to bite my nails, and holding my cell phone like it was going to vanish, willing it to ring with good news. I waited over two hours; twice I went to dial Lester's number and twice I told myself to wait. I was so worked up, I jumped in alarm, and fumbled to answer the cell phone when it finally rang. I looked to see Lester's number, as I finally managed to hit the answer button.

"Les!" I gasped into the phone, "Are you ok? Did you get him? Is everyone alright?" I was babbling in fear and apprehension.

Lester's voice sounded tired and a bit strained, "Hey, Steph. Yes, we got him. But his goon pulled a gun as soon as we had the car stopped, and Tank took a bullet." I gasped again in distress, but before I could ask another ten questions, Lester went on, "He'll be ok Steph. The bullet hit his shoulder, and he was wearing a vest; we all were. It's really just a scratch. The problem is that, when we returned fire, the goon moved to protect Stiles and my bullet that was meant for his arm went into his chest. He's in hospital now, critical condition. Hector and I have been at the police station for about ninety minutes, and we're likely to be here longer. Tank was taken to the hospital to be checked out, but he arrived here about ten minutes ago. Stiles is in lockup." Lester sighed. "It's gonna be a long night, Beautiful," he added wearily.

"Who shot him?" I asked concernedly. "Do you need a lawyer or something?"

Lester hesitated before he replied, "It was my shot that hit him. But I think I'll be ok. It's defence of a third person since Tank was shot first. If there's any talk about charges, I'll lawyer-up."

I nodded, even though Lester couldn't see me. I looked at the clock; ten pm. Oh well, people were just going to have to take a late call. I told Lester, "Make sure you call me, let me know you're ok. I need to know."

He murmured that he would and hung up to return to the police. I thought for a few minutes, before I looked up Connie Risolli's home number. Her voice came on her phone, sounding surprised but not sleepy. "Hello?" she asked.

"Connie, it's Steph Plum. I'm sorry to bother you late at home like this, but there were some problems when the guys were picking up Stiles tonight. He had one of his men with him, and they fired and hit one of the Rangeman guys, Tank. Lester returned fire, and the guy is in hospital. The Rangeman guys are at the TPD. Can you recommend a lawyer? Just in case they need it?"

Her voice came through, concerned, "Sure, Steph. I think Marshall is the best, his offices are on Broad Street, but he has a 24-hour call line." Connie paused to look up the number and came back to me to give it to me. "Are all your men ok?" she asked.

"I think so, yeah. Tank was wearing a bullet-proof vest, so he was just grazed. I don't think Lester or Hector were hit. But the guy with Stiles is in critical condition. I'm worried the TPD might get upset since Tank and Lester are based in Miami. Outside their jurisdiction."

Connie agreed. I said goodbye and hung up. I debated whether to call the attorney myself but changed my mind. I looked up one more thing, before making another call to book some motel rooms. Then I went down to the car and drove over to the TPD.

It was Stephanie to the rescue! I just hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

I walked into the TPD, looking around for any sign of my guys. It was weird how I was coming to think of them as 'my guys', but the more I worked with these guys, the more I was feeling like that. They were becoming like family to me. Hot, sexy, muscly family; but family!

I sighed in deep frustration when I spotted Tank sitting at a desk talking to Joe Morelli. I really didn't want to deal with Morelli tonight. I continued looking around and spotted Hector sitting to one side, watching a door. I suspected Lester would be inside the room behind the door. I made my way over to Hector first, sitting on the bench beside him and saying, "Hector. You ok?"

He turned and gave me a small, weary smile and said, "Si, Angelita, estoy bien." I wasn't 100 percent sure, but I knew 'si' was yes, and I thought 'bien' meant good, so that was good.

I returned his small smile and pointed at the door he had been watching, "Lester in there?" He nodded and said again, 'Si', before pointing over to Tank. I nodded and laid my hand on his arm in recognition, before standing to move over to where Tank was sitting. I could see a small bandage peeking out under his shirt, stark white against his very dark skin. I was reassured that he didn't seem to be badly injured.

As I drew up beside Tank, Joe Morelli looked up and scowled at me. "What are you doing here, cupcake?" he snarled. "Were you involved in this fuck-up?"

I shot him an icy glare, as pissed off as I could be, "Detective Morelli, I've told you before at least twice; I work for Rangeman LLC, with these men. And yes, I did the surveillance for tonight's pickup of the FTA and helped to plan it. I'm here to check on my colleagues, especially the man who was shot trying to apprehend the fugitive. I'm here to make sure they are being treated well by the TPD, and to see if they need me to organise an attorney. I have the name of a top criminal attorney in Trenton, if necessary." I finished with a touch of vindictiveness in my voice.

Morelli's scowl deepened even further, before he leaned back in his chair, looking smug. "Well, we haven't decided what to charge them with, Miss Plum," he sneered, "So I suggest you go and sit down and wait."

I bristled and was about to shoot him down when I caught Tank's eye as he shook his head at me minimally. He nodded over toward Hector. I nodded back to him, but before I moved off, I deliberately turned my back on Morelli, and squatted down beside Tank. "You ok?" I asked quietly. "Your shoulder, it's not bad?" He smiled at me slightly and shook his head. I stood, and without acknowledging Morelli again, I walked back to Hector to sit beside him again.

Hector nodded over toward Tank and Morelli, "Pendejo!" he exclaimed quietly. I wasn't sure what that meant but the intention was pretty clear. I nodded in agreement.

Half an hour later, we were still sitting on the hard bench waiting. Hector and I couldn't really chat, since the language barrier was too much, so we were mostly sitting in silence. We were alternately watching Tank and the door to the room with Lester. I was starting to feel really uneasy, wondering if I should have called the lawyer after all, when a door to the main floor of the TPD opened with a bang and Joe Juniack strode in purposefully.

The whole room of cops seemed to draw in their breath and sit up straight at the appearance of the Chief of Police. Juniack looked around the room, then came striding over to me, squatting in front of me just like I had with Tank. He put his hand on my arm and spoke, "Stephie, you alright?"

I smiled at him a little, "I'm fine Uncle Joe. Just worried about Tank and Lester. They're based in Miami; they were up here to pick up a fugitive, and they were involved in a shooting with the FTA this evening. So, I was worried they would need an attorney. That's why I'm here. I haven't seen Lester since I arrived," I pointed at the door, "but Tank is over there with Detective Morelli. He doesn't seem to like Tank." I added resentfully.

Juniack nodded and stood. He moved over to where Morelli and Tank were seated, and I saw him conversing with Morelli intensely for about five minutes. Finally, I heard him bark, "Morelli, why are you detaining this man? He has the relevant authorization to capture; he was injured in the line of his duty; and he was shot at first. He should be thanked and let go."

Morelli's expression was thunderous, especially at the 'line of duty' remark, but he choked out a reply, "Yes sir," he said reluctantly. He turned to Tank, "If you would sign your statement, Broussard, you can wait with your colleagues." He sneered as Tank signed the statement and stood. I saw Joe Juniack glance at him to catch his expression, and Juniack's face darkened. He leaned down to say something to Morelli we could not hear, but Morelli's face whitened and tightened in response. He nodded abruptly to Juniack, and turned to his desk and kept his head down, filling in forms.

Juniack shook Tank's hand and nodded over to where Hector and I were sitting. Tank moved over to join us. As he sat, he murmured very quietly, "Friends in high places, Steph?" I grinned at Tank and winked. He just shook his head at me.

Juniack now strode over to the door where Lester was presumably being held and interviewed. I saw Morelli look up and scowl as Juniack knocked once and opened the door to step inside. The door closed behind him, and silence reigned for about three minutes before I heard the sound of raised voices and Juniack's came through in the same tones that he had used with Morelli. Five minutes passed before the door opened again, and Juniack stepped out, followed by Lester and two more detectives looking chagrined and chastised. Juniack shook Lester's hand and indicated us with a wave. Les looked dazed at the events and came over to us, clearly confused about how that had happened.

Juniack flashed me a quick grin and wink as he strode back to the door he had entered through. I smiled back at him and blew him a kiss. He laughed aloud at that and left the floor. I heard the sound of voices rising as conversation returned to the level it had been before the door slammed open. We all stood as Lester approached and I reached forward as he came up to pull him into a hug. He returned the hug with alacrity and told us he was right to go.

I told them all to follow me; I was taking them somewhere, and we piled into our cars. I drove us all up to the Motel 6 in Lawrenceville Township, where I had booked two rooms for Tank and Lester for the night. I hugged them both again and told them I expected them to meet me at eight the next morning at the Rangeman office to get breakfast together. I then asked Lester to tell Hector the same, and that I would drive Hector back to the office to collect his car. Lester complied and we climbed into my car for the drive back to the office. I reached over to hug Hector as well before he climbed out of the hire car. He looked surprised, but pleased, and flashed me his smile before walking off to his car to head home.

I drew in a deep sigh, as I headed to my own apartment. The night hadn't been an unqualified success, but at least it hadn't been a disaster. Stiles was behind bars, and none of my guys ended up badly hurt, so I decided to call it a win.

Thank God.

The next day we met for breakfast as planned. I enjoyed chatting with the guys, while Les and Tank translated for Hector. I decided I should try and learn Spanish. If I was going to work with Hector, and hopefully, talk more with Carlos' family someday, then a basic knowledge of Spanish seemed like a good idea. I thought I might see if the college had any short courses for Spanish; and then I wondered if Tricia would like to do another course with me. I would ask her.

I was slightly taken aback when the conversation turned to the guys travelling to Trenton more regularly. Tank suggested it might be time to get a short-term lease on an apartment that the guys could use when they travelled to Trenton, as it would be cheaper and easier than using hotels or motels. Carlos could also use it when he returned. I hadn't thought of that, but I was excited at the thought. I agreed I would look into it and send through some ideas to the Miami office.

After we finished breakfast, I took Lester and Tank to Plum Bail Bonds office to meet Connie and hand in the bond receipt for Stiles. I was quietly thrilled that we had collected such a significant bond less than a week after I had been given the file, and I hoped that Vinnie would be there to gloat to him a bit. Vinnie really was pond scum.

When we got to the office, only Connie was present. Vinnie was probably off doing something unthinkable with a farm animal. Or possibly Joyce Barnhardt. Did I need to make that distinction? I tried to dismiss that uncharitable thought and concentrate on filling in Connie on what had happened at the police station. Connie was flustered at the two muscular, good-looking men in her office. Her cheeks seemed to be stained permanently pink as Lester flirted and Tank looked on, amused.

I had called Uncle Joe this morning to check that the guys were cleared to leave the state, and he assured me they were. So, after leaving the Bonds' office, we drove back to the Rangeman office for me to say farewell to Tank and to collect the Trenton hire car. Lester followed me to the hire car office, then drove me home to collect my own Miata. Once again, I hugged Les goodbye with misty eyes, and told him to be careful and travel safely. Tank and Les were taking the hire car and Carlos' truck back to Newark, before catching a flight to Miami this evening.

I headed back to the Trenton office, as I was coming to think of it, to get back to work.

Too excited to wait, I started to research on apartments in Trenton. I saw a variety of one and two-bedroom apartments, but I wondered if Carlos would want to live in one as well. Or… would he want to live with me? I almost hyperventilated at that thought. Was I getting ahead of myself too far?

Three days later, on the Friday, I had set up another teleconference with Tank, Lester, and Marco in Miami. I wanted to share the research on apartments in Trenton, as well as the draft computer training plans for Miami. The meeting was going well. The guys were cautiously positive about the apartments I suggested, but I sensed that they also wanted to wait for Carlos to approve it.

The training plans were met with more enthusiasm, and we were discussing the priorities for training as I made copious notes. I didn't know most of the men associated with the names, but Tank had sent me through an organisational chart for Miami and I was able to match names and positions and provide some thoughts around the types of training each position may need.

We had mostly finished the business discussion and were shooting the breeze with some light-hearted banter when I heard a short knock on the other end of the conference call. We went silent as the door opened, and my heart went into overdrive when I heard the honey-baritone voice that spoke at the other end.

Carlos! He was back! But why was he in Miami?

Ooh! Suspense, a cliffie! He, he, he... Spidey senses still tingling...