Hello everyone. Apologies for the hiatus, I have been really sick. Covid sucks. :( Continued thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. Reviews really help me; it's so motivating to know people are reading and following the story.

Digging Up Dirt

A day and a half later, everyone was on edge. The gym had basically been quiet; Ramirez had come in every day, worked out half-heartedly, sparred enthusiastically (sadistically?) with whoever would step into the ring with him, and left. Alpha seemed to live on the phone, but Carlos and Hector hadn't been able to get any audio surveillance near his office, so we didn't really know what was said. There was one suspicious visitor, a very large, wide man with inky black skin and long dreadlocks. As Morelli had said, he could easily be Jamaican, but again we had no way to verify. I had been checking back with Mrs Santiago's neighbours every day, and nobody had heard from her. She was still MIA. As was Carmen.

We hadn't seen the moon-faced man, but we had heard something interesting. Hector had been concealed near the gym with a microphone as Ramirez arrived one day. Ramirez was on the phone and had said something about 'Loo Moon' which had flagged our interest, wondering if it was a nickname for the moon-faced man. Silvio and I had swung into action and, after several hours, had tracked down a man called 'Louis Moon' who listed his occupation as a cleaner at the Stark Street gym. We were waiting in the office on a picture from Silvio, who had hacked into the DMV database. Suddenly, the fax machine clattered to life, and I watched breathlessly as it slowly spat out an unsmiling portrait of a man with a very round face and a flattened nose. I cheered. We would have to show the picture to Morelli for confirmation, but I was certain we had found the 'other guy'. The picture was accompanied by Moon's DMV records, with an address and other details.

We drove out to the safehouse, where Tank, Hector, and Manny waited with Morelli. As we came in, Morelli barked, "Well?"

I scowled at him. I could understand that Morelli was anxious and frustrated, but we were also helping him. I didn't appreciate his impatience or rudeness. Carlos also scowled, and Morelli seemed to check himself and muttered, "Sorry," to us.

"Good news," Carlos said, as he handed Morelli the fax. Morelli's eyes lit up.

"That's him!" he exclaimed. "That's the other guy." We all nodded.

"Good," Carlos continued, "Tank, you and Hector go and check out his address. If he's not there, see what you can find. If he is there, watch him and let me know what he does. If needed, I'll send out Manny and Bobby as relief in a few hours. Babe, you get back with Silvio and see what you can dig up on this guy." I nodded in agreement. Carlos went on, "This is our first solid lead, and I want to get as much intel as quickly as possible." Tank and Manny gave a 'hooah' and Hector nodded his agreement after Carlos repeated his instructions in Spanish.

"Morelli, you and Manny get back on the monitors. If Moon shows up, call me immediately." Manny nodded again and Morelli gave a grunt of acknowledgement. "Steph and I have to go do some business for Rangeman. We'll be about two hours, but I've got my cell phone if needed."

Carlos and I were meeting with the contractors at the Haywood Street building, for a final walkthrough before the pulldown started. The contractors, Everend Brothers, had hired a local crew to work on the demolition phase, clearing out the building and pulling down existing internal walls and fittings. They would be supervised by the contractors and, after the pulldown, another crew with specialised equipment were coming through to pull out the existing elevator and begin drilling through the floor to the subbasement.

Meanwhile, a temporary industrial elevator was being installed outside with the scaffolding, to allow for transport of materials to the roof and upper floors. Everything was scheduled to commence next week. We were eager to get things underway before we started to get any snow or harsher winter weather. We were edging into November, and the days were getting shorter as well.

The walkthrough went well, with no issues or concerns. The site supervisor was a friendly man, about six feet two, with a burly ash-brown beard and a slightly rotund belly. His name was Cameron Drury, and he appeared to treat me with respect, listening to me when I spoke and answering my questions easily. I had been concerned that the contractors may treat me with some sexism, but it appeared that Cameron, at least, was going to be polite and respectful.

After we finished, Carlos took me back to the office, where we both concentrated on some administrative and organisational tasks for another hour or so. I could not help but feel excited when I thought about the Haywood Street building. Every day seemed to bring the full version of Rangeman Trenton closer to a reality.

ooOOoo

We headed out to the safehouse to check in and see what had been happening. Manny greeted us and told us that they had observed nothing on Stark Street. Bobby had arrived, and Carlos was briefing him and telling him that he may be required for surveillance on Louis Moon's apartment, when Tank and Hector arrived back, looking slightly disappointed.

Tank explained that Moon's apartment was a bust; there was a layer of dust and food spoiling in the fridge. It appeared that he was not living there at the moment, and it had been at least a couple of weeks since he had been there. This was confirmed by the junk mail and flyers crammed into his letter box. Wherever Louis Moon was right now, he was not using his apartment.

It felt like a setback; this had been our first solid lead and the best opportunity to get evidence of what had happened to Carmen and, possibly, clear Morelli. Morelli looked particularly devastated for a moment before he slammed down his blank cop face again. I could understand his disappointment. Every empty lead must feel like his life was slipping away from him. But I wasn't going to give up yet, not so much for Morelli, but for Carmen and Mrs Santiago.

"Carlos," I said quietly, "Can I talk to you and Tank in the kitchen?" He looked at me piercingly but nodded and motioned to Tank to follow us into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, I closed the door behind us, and turned to the men, "Ranger," I used his street name deliberately for emphasis, "I think it has come time to use the option I know you don't want to use. We're truly running out of leads now, and every day makes it less likely that we'll find Carmen Sanchez or Mrs Santiago and her grandchildren alive. I need to go and talk to the women on Stark Street. If they know something that can help, we have to find it and use it."

Carlos looked pained, and I could see Tank's eyes swivelling between us, trying to gauge the situation. After a moment, he spoke up, "I agree with her, Ranger," he said quietly. "We can make sure she's not there when Ramirez or Alpha are around. We have the surveillance. And Manny is unknown here. He could be a discrete backup who nobody would know his connection to Rangeman or Steph."

Carlos met my eyes, and I almost flinched at the resigned expression I could see there. "Ok," he agreed, his reluctance clear. "We'll set it up for tomorrow." He turned to Tank, "I want you and Bobby here on the monitors. We won't be relying on Morelli for this op. And I want Hector back on Stark, hidden with his microphone as an extra backup. Manny can get there before Steph and establish a cover nearby. We'll use the street surveillance to position Manny and Steph, and our timing needs to be spot on for Ramirez and Alpha."

He turned back to me, "If there's no window when Ramirez and Alpha are occupied at the same time, I will abort this instantly," he told me fiercely. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him and his arms came around me tightly. His voice was slightly muffled in my hair as he continued, "I know I probably sound paranoid. Maybe I am. But I can't shake the way Ramirez talked about Carmen. He's unhinged. And if Alpha truly is into something illegal, he's going to make a bad enemy for anyone snooping around him. We need to be careful and play this by the book."

I leaned back and looked up at him, "I'll play everything by the book, Carlos," I promised. "I'll listen and do what you tell me to do to be safe. I won't deliberately put myself at risk."

He sighed and nodded and leaned down to kiss me briefly. "Ok, let's get this done." He led us back out to the living room to brief everyone about the next stage of the operation.

Carlos and I had been living together in my apartment for nearly six weeks now. It had been surprisingly easy. He was an easy person to accommodate, although he was more a neat freak to my messier nature. He didn't complain though, just simply picked up my clothes off the floor and tossed them into the hamper or took my dishes into the sink when he carried in his own. In return, I was trying to be more respectful of him, doing the dishes after every meal and trying to keep up with some basic housework. I was still paying the rent, but Carlos had taken over the utilities. It seemed fair and I was content with it.

I was never going to be a gourmet chef, but at least twice a week, Carlos and I cooked dinner together and he introduced me to stir-frying and grilling marinated meats in the griller. I could make a salad or chop vegetables, no problem. Much as I might prefer to exist on pizza and pasta, I knew Carlos would be unhappy if I tried to force my diet on him. So, when we had takeout, I tried to order Chinese or Thai food, or get subs and salad instead of pizza and beer every time.

Carlos went running every morning, and he coaxed me to join him at least twice a week. Lately he was pushing me to increase to three times a week. Sigh. Again, it was not my favourite thing to do, by any stretch of the imagination, but I knew that being healthy was important to Carlos. And being fitter meant he was more accepting of me doing fieldwork for Rangeman.

The hardest part was him dragging me to Sunny's gun range every Monday afternoon to practice with the gun he insisted I get. He bought me a .38 Smith and Wesson as a solid first handgun, and patiently taught me how to handle it; clean it, load it, shoot it. I hated this. I hate guns; they are noisy and, to my mind, dangerous. But I knew I had to respect Carlos on this. Plus, I could not forget the promise I had made to Lester when we were looking for Morrison and Turnbull. I promised to learn to use a gun and he wouldn't tell Carlos about my foolish impulsiveness in going into the warehouse alone. I was pretty sure Lester wouldn't rat me out, but I had still made the commitment and I was determined to honour it. So, I sucked it up and went to the gun range and practiced. Carlos promised he would work on getting me a concealed carry permit, but we were not sure if I would be allowed.

In return, Carlos was trying to lean into some of my lifestyle. I told him I wanted a movie night once a week. Usually, we stayed in and watched videos or tv, snuggled up together. I made popcorn, and Carlos would even eat some if I didn't load it with butter. Once, so far, we had gone out to the cinema for a date, and we had gone to see Apollo 13. It had been a wonderful movie, thrilling and well-acted, and we had both enjoyed it thoroughly.

Slowly but surely, we were learning to live together.

We got home that evening, and I could sense that Carlos was on edge about what I would be doing tomorrow. His shoulders betrayed the tension he felt, and he was slightly distracted. I suggested he go for a run, and I would order us some takeout. He agreed, seeming relieved to have an outlet for his tension and, after changing, he left for a long run. I took the time to have a quick shower and change into comfy clothes. I selected a DVD from a small pile I had rented. It was Babe; maybe it was a silly movie to ask Carlos to watch, but I was dying to see it and it wasn't technically a chick flick, so I hoped it would distract him enough to enjoy it. I set the movie up, and then called for the takeout. I ordered noodles, as healthy as I could, barbeque pork for me, and garlic prawn for Carlos, as well as a serving of veggie spring rolls in rice paper to share.

I was still waiting on the food to be delivered when Carlos arrived back, looking much more relaxed, and he headed in for a quick shower. The water had just started when the knock came on the door. I checked the peephole and opened up to pay for the food. I grabbed plates and forks from the kitchen to supplement the chopsticks that I struggled to use effectively, as well as napkins and a glass of wine each from the bottle we had opened a couple of nights ago.

I carried everything out to the living room and set it on the coffee table. When Carlos had moved in, I had decided I needed a bit more grown-up furniture. My apartment had consisted mostly of garage-sale items that made it more like a college dorm than a real apartment. I had invested in a decent sofa, a sturdy coffee table, and some end tables and lamps. Carlos had insisted on contributing to our space; he wanted a more luxuriant bed, so he bought a new mattress for our bed and new sheets, telling me he loved to sleep on really nice sheets. I had to agree they were wonderful to sleep on. He also installed new locks and a security camera in the front entryway, along with a limiter lock on the window in the bedroom to allow for exit to the fire escape from the inside but prevent anyone opening it more than a few inches from the outside. Finally, Carlos bought the new cooking equipment since what I had had was pretty minimal.

I set everything out on the coffee table and made sure the remote and a cosy throw were nearby. Carlos joined me a couple of minutes later, in his own black sweats and his hair still slick with moisture. We served up the food, and chatted about not much while we ate and sipped our glasses of wine. When we finished, Carlos carried the dishes and refuse into the kitchen and returned with the bottle to top up our glasses. He then settled beside me, and I tucked the throw around our feet and picked up the remote.

"What are we watching Babe?" he asked.

"Babe," I smirked.

He looked at me puzzled, "Babe, what?"

I had to hold in my laughter, "Babe," I answered deadpan. I pressed play and the opening credits of the movie came up. Carlos rolled his eyes at my silly pun but settled in beside me to watch. I'm sure it wasn't his favourite type of movie, but I loved it. It was sweet and adorable, and I had to discreetly wipe away a few tears. It was an uplifting movie.

"Did you like it?" I asked as we tidied up before heading in to bed.

He looked at me, with a small, lip-tipped smile, "More than I would have guessed," he replied. "Just please don't tell the guys what we watched. I'll never hear the end of it," he grumbled. He pulled me against him as we walked into the bedroom.

I laughed gently, "Thanks for watching it with me, Carlos," I murmured into his embrace. "I love you."

"I love you, Babe," he answered, and we spent the next hour celebrating that.

I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the red truck. Morelli had agreed to let me borrow his truck, to give more authenticity to my story about being his girlfriend he got pregnant. It was a nice truck, fairly new and even had a car phone. We had decided to slightly disguise my appearance in case anyone was reporting back to Alpha or Ramirez, so I had straightened my hair and Carlos had given me brown contact lenses to colour my eyes. I was dressed casually in jeans and loose sweater.

I looked up and down the street. There were a couple of young, skinny guys dressed in baggy pants that drooped around their hips, with dark sunglasses and backwards ball caps that looked me over from a doorway on the opposite side of the street. One of them said something to his companion with a lascivious smirk and the other laughed and lifted a cigarette to his lips for a long drag. As he did, I saw the gang tattoo on his wrist. I pretended not to notice them and walked in the opposite direction toward a couple of women who were standing on a street corner, looking bored and restless.

The women were both African American, dressed scantily in tight spandex pants and bright jackets with fake fur accents. Both were larger women, and their makeup was slightly overdone, although not ridiculous. Actually, the larger one looked quite stylish, despite the clear hooker clothes and makeup; she wore them with confidence and flair. The slightly smaller one looked haggard and unhappy, and I wondered if she was a drug user. She had the look of someone in need of a fix. The larger one was clear-eyed and looked more approachable.

I walked toward them, and they eyed me warily as I approached. "Hi," I said quietly but trying to be friendly. "My name is Sandy; I was wondering if you could help me?"

The larger one looked me over with cautious curiosity, "Ya lookin' for a date? We don' swing that way, but Lil' Inky on the next street over does."

I blinked in shock, then hurried to add, "Umm, no th…thanks," I stuttered, "I'm actually looking for someone and thought you might be able to help me."

"We don' know nuthin!" the other hooker scowled. "If you ain't lookin' for a date, ya can just move along."

"Hush, Jackie," the larger woman said gently. "I'm Lula. Who ya lookin' for?" Jackie scowled even more deeply at this but did not say anything more.

"Carmen Sanchez," I said, "I'd heard she worked on Stark Street, and I need to talk to her."

"What ya need Carmen for?" Lula now looked suspicious, and her friendly demeanour soured a little.

"Nothing bad," I hurried to reassure her. "You see, I was dating Joe Morelli, and when it all came out about him and Carmen, I told him to take a hike. But now…" I trailed off, deliberately seeming hesitant and worried, "I found out Morelli knocked me up, you see. And I need money, I can't support this kid on my own. I've been looking for Joe, but he's disappeared. I thought maybe he might be with Carmen, or she might know where I can find him."

Lula's expression cleared slightly, although she still eyed me with some caution, "We haven't seen Carmen in a while. She's not livin' in her apartment, and we haven't seen her on the street." Lula paused and a flicker of worry crossed her face, "I been worried about her, ya know? She ain't been seen in weeks. If she off with this Morelli guy, we don' know where."

"Ya don't look pregnant," Jackie cut in scornfully.

I looked at her, "I'm only a couple months," I told her, "I won't start to show for a few more weeks." I turned back to Lula, "What about Joe Morelli? Have you seen him around at all?"

Lula shook her head, "Not since Carmen disappeared. He a cop, so I don' have nothin' to do with him. I don't like cops, they give me the runs. If he was seein' Carmen, like they say he was, then he didn't pick her up on the streets. Last time she was picked up was by…" Jackie suddenly hissed at her, and she shut her mouth abruptly. Lula looked away, and I tried to look unthreatening and uninterested as possible in Carmen's last customer.

I wanted to keep asking questions, but I could see the two women were now looking wary again, and I decided to cut my losses with them, "Sorry to hear Carmen hasn't been around. But if you see her, or Joe Morelli, could you give me a call? I can give you my number."

Lula looked me over neutrally, but Jackie was back to scowling and hissing, "She don't need to be doin' nuthin' other than look like she wanna give some. If she don't, her old man gonna give her hell."

Lula looked scornful, "My old man can go to hell," she said, "Don't see his ass out here in the wind and the sun, getting hungry and thirsty, do ya?" She said to me, "Maybe. Gimme your number and I'll call if I can."

I took out a small notepad from my bag and wrote, 'Sandy' and my cell phone number on a page, before ripping it out. I hoped I remembered to answer the cell with that name. I handed it to Lula with a word of thanks, and Jackie walked away, disgruntled, and muttering to herself.

I smiled at Lula and walked off. I wondered what to do now. I couldn't see any other women out on the streets, and I wasn't going to talk to any of the other people out and about, in case anything got back to Alpha and Ramirez. I motored off, around the next corner, and circled the block around the gym, looking for any more hookers I could talk to.

I hope you like Lula's introduction. More to come? The hunt continues! Please review – I'd love some ideas for the takedown to come.

I am still recovering from Covid so my posting schedule may be a little slower. I find my energy ebbs and flows pretty randomly. But I am working on the next chapter, so hope to post again soon.