I'd just watched Zero and Hal pull out of the garage with Casey and Stephanie in the back seat of Ranger's Cayenne when Ram texted me.

I found something. Meet me on Five.

By the time I made it back to the control room floor, he, Binkie, and Woody were already parked in my office. "Nice of you guys to help yourselves to my office."

Ram didn't bother to reply. Instead, he thrust the paper at me before I could slide into the seat behind my desk. "I have a lead on Isabella Sanchez."

Excitement slid through me as I took the paper and dropped into my chair. "No shit." We'd had such a hard time finding anything on Izzy and Maddie, that I was beginning to worry that maybe we were already too late.

I took a moment to scan the document. According to what he'd found, TPD had raided a house just off the lower end of Stark Street. They were looking for a meth lab, but in the process, they uncovered a prostitution ring and managed to pick up several girls and their pimp.

My gaze rocketed up to meet his. "TPD has Isabella?"

Ram shook his head. "No." He pointed to the paper. "If you keep reading, you'll see that she was one of a handful of girls who managed to escape during the raid."

I frowned. "Then how do you know it's her?"

"Morelli sent me a couple of still pics that came from the body cam footage. She's in the background running for one of the doors."

"Okay." I set the paper down and looked from him to the other men. "So? All that proves is that she's still alive and still in Trenton."

"Yes, and still hanging down on Stark," he added. "Her pimp and supplier are now in jail. She's going to be looking for a new distributor. She might even be going through withdrawal without ready access to the drugs."

That meant she might be disoriented, desperate, and looking for another supplier. That kind of desperation could lead to her making a mistake and putting herself in danger. "Let's get a couple of teams down to Stark. Take her picture and get the word out that we're looking for her." Knowing Ram would follow, I pushed up from my desk and headed for the door. "Have Hector reach out to his contacts on the street. I want the gangs to know she's under Rangeman's protection."

"Consider it done," Binkie said.

Hours later, I was hungry and frustrated as Ram and I made our way back to our fleet vehicle for what felt like the hundredth time. I'd hoped that with three teams canvasing the badlands of Stark Street, one of us would have found Isabella. Sadly, that wasn't the case and quite frankly it was pissing me off. I'm not used to striking out like this.

It was bad enough that we'd found absolutely nothing on Madalyn, but to know Isabella was here somewhere and we simply couldn't find her was beyond infuriating. My only consolation was that if we couldn't find her, hopefully, Kowalski and Pfeffer wouldn't be able to find her either.

The first thing I noticed when Ram pulled into the garage and parked was that the Cayenne was back. He glanced over at the vehicle. "I wonder how things went with the girls today?"

Me too. Especially since Beautiful made me promise not to bother them while they were shopping and bonding. Not that I would have anyway when we were so busy trying to find Isabella. Though, I did manage to receive a few cryptic updates from Hal. Mostly stuff like all was well and the girls were having fun. No sightings of anyone stalking them or even anyone who appeared suspicious. I was damn thankful for that knowledge. If anything happened while they were out, I might never get Casey to leave the building again.

We exited our patrol vehicle and headed for the building entrance. "Why don't you go on up and see how Casey made out," Ram said. "I'll check on things in the control room and take care of filing the daily report."

"Thanks. I think I will," I replied as I pressed the elevator buttons for both five and six. "I'll owe you one."

"Just text me and let me know they're both back and happy," Ram replied. "It fucking broke my heart to see Bomber crying yesterday."

It broke all our hearts. Hopefully, Ranger would come back soon and in one piece. Until then, I think we'll all be at least a little worried about Steph.

Ram exited when the elevator stopped at Five and a minute later, I exited at Six. In the time it took for me to make my way from the elevator to my apartment door, I decided not to mention anything about Isabella. No need to get Casey all worked up over what turned out to be a bust today.

The moment I opened the apartment door I knew she was back. Funny how even though I couldn't see her, I could feel Casey's presence in the apartment. Maybe this was what Ranger meant when he said he could always feel when Steph was close.

"Casey?"

"In my bedroom," she called.

I stopped in the doorway and my attention landed on all the bags sitting haphazardly on her bed. I grinned. "Looks like you two had a good time," I said as I shifted my gaze from the bags to her, then froze. What. The. Fuck?

The smile she wore lit up the entire room as she looked up at me. "We did." Then she paused and motioned with her hand. "Do you like my hair?"

Fuck no I didn't like it. What in the hell did she do? "It's pretty," I managed to say before I stuck my foot in my mouth. "I thought you two were just going to go shopping."

She set the article of clothing down she was holding then turned her undivided attention on me. "Stephanie already had a hair appointment scheduled for today. When we were talking at lunch I mentioned how since I'm going to be a secular woman now, I'd like to do something more modern with my hair. So, when we got to Mr. Alexander's place, she told him she wanted to give her appointment to me."

She turned so I could see the back of her hair. "We talked and he said that his client after Stephanie had cancelled. So, he had the time available to not only give me a good cut, but he thought some highlights and lowlights would look great." Then she turned back to face me. "I was a bit nervous about it, but I'm so glad I did it." Her expression turned apprehensive. "Do you really like it?"

"It's beautiful," I said as I struggled to come up with something better. I loved her long hair. There was something just so innocent and simplistic about it that fit her. While it was still past her shoulders, he'd managed to cut off a good six inches. Then he layered what was left. She'd definitely accomplished her goal of achieving a more secular look.

The smile she wore dimmed just a little as she cocked her head to the side. "Your face is saying something different." Damn. I thought I'd properly schooled my features to achieve the appropriate expression. I guess not. I had to give her credit for being brave enough to call me out.

"It's just a shock," I replied. "I mean you never mentioned wanting to change your hair, and when you left this morning, it was so long, and now…it's not."

"You liked it long," she said more than asked as her smile continued to fade.

Well, shit. I couldn't have her feeling bad about something she wanted. "I did," I admitted as I crossed to her and took her hands in mine. "And if you'd said you wanted to change it for me, I would have told you that you didn't have to. However, you made the change because you wanted to do something for yourself. Which I support one hundred percent."

"Blackmore used to use my simple look and my religious background as a selling point," she said, her voice barely above a whisper now. "You know the whole forbidden fruit scenario. I hated it, and I don't want to be that woman anymore."

Hearing her explanation caused my stomach to turn sour. Part of what I thought made her so beautiful was that simple innocence. To hear Blackmore use that angle as a selling point made me feel dirty. "I wish I would have known that sooner. I would have taken you myself."

"Why would you have done that when it's obvious you don't like what I did?" she asked as she stepped back, pulling her hands from mine.

"That's not entirely true," I replied. "Yes, I'll admit that I liked your hair longer, but the changes Mr. Alexander made do a wonderful job of accentuating your beautiful face. When I walked in, you appeared happier and more confident."

"You still haven't said that you like it," she said.

"I like it," I replied despite feeling the contrary. No way would I intentionally do anything to hurt her feelings or self-esteem.

She angled her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at me. "Are you sure you're okay with it?"

So much for thinking I could get anything past her. She's as bad as Beautiful at being able to read people. "I am," I finally said. "I'm just going to need a couple of days to get used to the change. I mean it is kinda drastic."

"That is true," she replied as she held my gaze. "It might also take me a few days to get used to it."

"Precious, I do want to make one thing crystal clear. I want you to know and understand something. So, as long as what you want isn't dangerous, you never need to defer to me when doing anything that will aid in making you feel better about yourself." I motioned to her hair. "I mean, if you decided that you wanted to shave it bald or dye it purple, I will always want you to do what makes you happy."

"But you have to look at me," she tried to argue. "I wouldn't want you to be unhappy with how I appear to you."

God, how amazing was she? I once again closed the distance then lifted my hands to cup her cheeks. "I want you to believe me when I say, that would never happen. No matter what you do, you will always be beautiful to me, both inside and out. Okay?"

She lifted her hands to grab onto my wrists as she stared up at me. "Okay."

I leaned down a pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "Good. Now how about you show me what you bought today."

After a moment's hesitation, she stepped back, and turned to the bed to pick up what appeared to be a dress, then paused and looked at me. "Stephanie said that I'd be attending holiday events, like Thanksgiving dinner, with your family. I told her I thought she was wrong, but she insisted I needed some new fancier dresses."

She picked up the grayish-purple dress and held it up in front of her. "This is the one Stephanie picked out for me to wear for Thanksgiving. I'm not sure I would have chosen it if I'd been by myself, but Stephanie said it was sophisticated, yet flattering." She lifted her gaze from the gown to me. "What do you think?"

The lower portion of the dress was flowy with a see-through layer on top of the solid color, while the torso and half sleeves were comprised of a solid print under a layer of intricate lace. The neck scooped, but not too low. "It's perfect," I said.

"Was Stephanie right? Am I going with you for Thanksgiving?"

Her question pulled a smile from me. I hadn't given the holidays much thought, but I knew for sure that Casey would be on my arm when I walked into the Manoso house. "She was," I said as I took a seat on the edge of her bed. "Honestly, I hadn't given Thanksgiving much thought, but I assumed you'd be going with me."

She appeared pleased by my answer as she moved to hang the dress in her closet. When she turned back to face me her smile had faded just a little and a worry line now appeared on her forehead. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"You said in your letters that your family is Cuban, like Carlos."

"That's right."

"How is your family going to feel about you bringing home a blonde-haired, green-eyed, ex-Mennonite, who is so unstable that she tried to kill herself?"

Oh hell no. I'd be damned if I'd allow her to tear herself down like that. In an instant, I was on my feet and crossing around the bed to where she stood. I took her hands in mine as I looked down at her. "Let's get one thing straight right now. You are not unstable."

The look she gave me screamed that she thought I was full of shit. "Normal people don't try to kill themselves, Lester."

"Normal is subjective," I argued. The lives I and the others here at Rangeman lived were normal to us, but for someone on the outside looking in, it would be far from that. "One person's normal is another person's strange and unusual."

"Still," she shifted from one foot to the other as she stared up at me. "How is your family going to feel about my past and me not being Cuban?"

Knowing the answer to her question, I smiled. They would be thrilled. "They're going to feel the same way about you that they do Stephanie. They're going to love you."

"Really?" she asked with so much hope in her voice it made my chest hurt from the emotions it pulled out of me.

"Absolutely," I replied as I pulled her back to the bed. "I'm telling you that you have nothing to worry about. Now, let's put the topic of Thanksgiving away for now because I want to see what else you bought for yourself today."