Ranger's POV
Vinnie asked me to take the case for Joseph Morelli, but I refused. "Let Morty, the ex-cop, go after the cop," I replied. "I'm trying to build a reputation with the department. Going after a cop hinders that objective."
Connie listened and assigned the case to Morty Beyers. Vinnie wasn't happy, but I don't care. Building my relationship with the Trenton Police Department was more important than the revenue generated from capturing a cop.
Nobody could have predicted that Morty would get appendicitis and get rushed into surgery. He was out of commission for at least one week. Vinnie had sixteen days to return Morelli to the precinct. Nothing, not even Morty's unfortunate circumstances, would get me to change my mind. Vinnie offered me a higher cut, but I politely declined and suggested he ask Andy Zabotsky, the other BEA Vinnie had under his employ.
Zabotsky was lucky to be in the right place at the right time, which happened last week when he captured a high-bond skip. The skip stood in line at the local chicken franchise in front of Zabotsky. Andy recognized him and hauled the dealer to the precinct. I could have used the thirty grand to finance the Rangeman Trenton branch.
It took a long time for Rangeman Securities to build a reputation with various police departments. I worked with my connections in Miami to open the first of the Rangeman branded companies. My closest friends, who are my brothers-in-arms, Pierre Sherman, Bobby Brown and Lester Santos, helped finance my dream. In return, they hold a twenty percent share in the company. I own forty percent since I provided the most capital and envisioned the business.
When we decided to open our third branch, we relocated to Trenton, New Jersey. My family resided in Newark, and Lester's family lived in Philadelphia. Pierre, who prefers to be called Tank, grew up in Miami, Florida. Bobby Brown was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. Tank and I have been friends since my parents shipped me to Miami to live with Abuela Rosa. We met Bobby and Lester at Rutgers. I had enough credits to graduate after two years. The other men dropped out of college to join the Army with me. They would have moved up the ranks if they had completed their education like me.
I was sitting in my black Mercedes, parked at the curb in front of Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, when a gorgeous woman walked past my vehicle. Her hips swayed as her heels met the sidewalk. My phone rang before I could exit the car to follow her inside. "Yo," I answered without taking my eyes off the sexy woman.
"¿Donde estás?" Hector asked. (Where are you?)
"La oficina de Vinnie," I replied. (Vinnie's office)
"Él está aqui." (He's here) I ended the call without saying goodbye. I've lost too many men after following proper phone etiquette. Saying goodbye was reserved for gravesite funeral services. It was superstitious, but I didn't care.
I glanced through the window of Vinnie's shop to appreciate the fullness of the woman's ass. My hand twitched as I imagined grabbing the cheeks and pulling them against my crotch. Frustrated, I started the car and pulled away from the curb, hoping I could meet the sexy brunette another time. I willed my erection to disappear as I drove toward Stark Street, where my informant, Juan Gomez, waited to share his intel. Hopefully, he would lead me to Eduardo Melendez. The man was worth over one hundred grand to me. I quickly called my second in command, Tank. "Yo," he answered after the first ring.
"When can you guys get here?" I asked.
"Next Tuesday," Tank replied. "We're driving down." I hung up, having received the answer I required. My men would arrive in six days. It was soon enough. I would have to be cautious as I approached Melendez. Hopefully, Hector would be willing to assist if necessary. I could use him on my team. The thought made me smile. Hector could naturally blend into his surroundings better than my camo-clad comrades. He only let you know he was there when it was his intention.
I drove down Hamilton to Stark Street, where Hector would await my arrival to meet with my informant. Gomez hid behind the building housing Stark Street Gym, owned by Jimmy Alpha, who was the manager for Benito Ramirez, a sadistic boxer. The man enjoyed hurting women. I prayed Ramirez wouldn't cross paths with the gorgeous brunette with curly hair. Hector pointed to the dark corner of the lot, closest to the dumpster. Gomez peeked from his hiding spot as I approached, making myself heard by intentionally dragging my left heel.
"He'll be in Pete's Pub tonight," Gomez said when I approached him. I removed money from my pocket to pay the man.
"If you have lied to me, I will end you," I threatened. Gomez reassured me that Melendez would be swinging a deal in the Pub. I noticed Hector leaning against the wall. When I jutted my chin up slightly, he knew to watch my back.
I slipped into my car and then checked my watch. It would take me twenty minutes to get home. After dealing with the scum, I wanted to take a hot shower.
My pager buzzed as I turned onto Hamilton Avenue. I waited for a red light to check the device. Connie requested I call her immediately. It took me a few minutes to get home. She could afford to wait a few minutes for me to wash the stench of Stark Street off my skin.
I stripped and dumped my clothes in the hamper inside the bathroom door. After turning on the tap, I let the water warm as I emptied my bladder. Shaking my head, I climbed into the shower as my thoughts got interrupted by the brunette with the sexy ass. My dick reacted to the memory. I used some body wash for lubrication and took care of my growing need. Dios, that woman was fine.
I towel-dried my hair and pulled it into a low ponytail, securing it with the leather strip I preferred using instead of elastic bands. Unable to defer the inevitable, I dialled the number of Vincent Plum Bail Bonds.
"Hi, Ranger. Thank you for calling back. I'm calling in my favour," Connie replied.
"Continue," I demanded.
"I have a new BEA who needs to learn the ropes," Connie said. I didn't have time for that shit. My time was worth money. However, Connie had convinced Vinnie to hire me to capture the high-bond criminals.
"Fine. At the diner at two sharp. If he's a minute late, I'm gone," I replied through gritted teeth after checking my watch.
"Thank you," Connie said.
"This means we're even, right?" I clarified, hoping she would agree that I don't have to do more for her. There was nothing I despised more than someone reneging on their word.
"Yes, I promise this is the last favour," Connie confirmed. I hung up before she could request more from me.
After checking and returning the messages on my answering machine, I grabbed my two guns and knife, tucking them away. Grabbing the key fob for my black Mercedes and wallet, I left my apartment and drove to the diner. I parked so I could see my vehicle from the back booth. As always, my back was to the wall. I could see anyone entering the restaurant and not get caught unaware.
An ugly brown car - a rusted Nova - parked behind my Mercedes at the curb. The word "pussy" was painted on the side in neon pink. A gorgeous woman exited the car. She appeared to moan when she looked at my car before squaring her shoulders. The woman walked to the passenger side door and bent over to grab her bag from the pussy mobile. Dios, I would recognize that ass anywhere.
Her sexy ass was on full display as she walked past the window. I watched as she walked to the entrance and opened the door. The clock above the door indicated it was one minute to two. Surely, the woman wasn't the BEA Connie asked me to meet. The brunette touched her neck and looked around. Her lips mouthed, "Ranger."
Shit! The BEA was a woman? Her? Dios! Was Connie insane? I felt my neck tingle as the woman approached me. She tripped over her foot, making me smile. Her eyes appeared to glaze over as she stared in my direction. The woman shook her head, then squared her shoulders. She approached me without showing fear.
Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at my biceps and thick neck. I gave off a don't-mess-with-me vibe with my muscular frame. She assessed me as I did her. The woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties.
She extended her hand and said, "Hi. I'm Stephanie Plum. Are you Ricardo Manoso?" I leaned back and grinned when she sat across from me.
"So, Connie says I'm supposed to make you into a badass fugitive apprehension agent. What's the rush for the crash course?" I asked.
"Do you see the brown Nova at the curb?"
I spared a glance at the front window, though I knew which car she drove. "Uh-huh."
"That's my car," she said, sighing. I nodded imperceptibly.
"Did you need anything else besides money?" I wondered, leaning forward while flexing my muscles. Stephanie's eyes glazed over as she stared at my biceps. She shook her head, likely dispelling the invasive thoughts I could read on her face.
"Personal reasons," she said, sounding like a feral cat waiting to scratch out someone's eyes if they crossed her. It was adorable. I suspected the BEA job with Vinnie was her desperate attempt to make money. It wasn't the best job for a gorgeous woman.
"Bond enforcement is dangerous. I hope your personal reasons are pretty fucking good," I replied, leaning back while crossing my arms on my chest. Stephanie's tongue darted from her mouth to lick her luscious lips. I was affecting her as much as she affected me. Dios! The woman was dangerous and irresistible.
She glared before asking, "What are your reasons for doing this?" The feral kitten returned, and I found it endearing.
I raised my palms, exposing them to the ceiling and replied honestly, "It's what I do best."
"I bet that's not the only thing you do best," she mumbled as her cheeks turned pink. Stephanie amused and aroused me. "Maybe I'll get better at the job. Steady employment is my goal at the moment. I'm trying to find Joseph Morelli."
I laughed at her comment. "Are you joking?" I continued laughing. "Morelli isn't some street punk you're chasing. He's smart and good. You're not going to catch him."
Stephanie glared at me. She took a few deep breaths before saying, "Connie says you're good."
"Sweet Thing, you will never be as good as me," I replied. The nickname irritated her. Okay, Sweet Thing was a firm no. I would eventually find one suitable to use.
She leaned forward enough for me to see the soft swells of her breasts. I reached beneath the table to fix myself. "Let me make myself clear. I'm out of work. My car got repossessed. I have no food in my cupboards or refrigerator. I'm this close," she said, spacing her index finger and thumb barely two millimetres apart, "from getting kicked out of my apartment. My feet don't fit in my damn shoes. I have zero energy to waste socializing with a pompous, egotistical, sexy, muscular man. Are you going to help me?"
My heart raced. The feisty woman turned me on. Her snarky backtalk got me as hard as a nail. I used my military training to control my reactions. "We're going to have fun. It will be like Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle Does Trenton," I replied, grinning.
"What do I call you?" Stephanie breathlessly asked.
"Ranger," I replied. "It's my street name." Someday, I hoped to call Stephanie my wife. I never thought I'd find someone who was perfect for me. Luckily, I had decided to return Connie's call and agreed to meet the new BEA for Vinnie. "Do you have the file?"
"Yes," Stephanie said as her stomach grumbled. "Sorry. I haven't had anything to eat today."
I waved down the waitress who arrived to take our order. "I'll have a coffee, a plain toasted bagel and half a grapefruit," I said. They were the only items I knew wouldn't be soaked in fats or deep-fried. "Order whatever you want, Babe." Her eyes shimmered when I called her Babe. She liked the nickname. I filed that intel away for later.
Stephanie blushed when she asked for a toasted Italian sub with French fries, cola, and a slice of apple pie. "What? I'm hungry," she replied, embarrassed by her confession.
"Babe, that stuff will kill you," I said when the waitress brought our food.
"But what a way to go," she mumbled. Stephanie took a bite of her sandwich. I envied the bread and meat as they entered her mouth. Stephanie licked the sauce off her hand, making me hard again as I imagined other uses for her tongue.
We exchanged small talk as we shared a meal. I learned that Stephanie had previously married and then promptly divorced within three months. "Have you been married?" she asked.
"I got married after getting a woman pregnant. It was foolish, and I mistakenly trusted her condoms," I replied. "My daughter is nine. Her mother and I divorced when she was born."
"Do you see her? Your daughter?" Stephanie asked.
"No. Julie knows I'm her father. I signed over my rights when her mother remarried," I respond without offering more information.
Stephanie reached across the table to touch my hand. "You can trust me, Ranger. I won't divulge your secrets if you prefer," she said. "My life may be an open book, but I would never share anything you wish to remain private."
"Would you ever remarry?" I asked.
"It depends on the man. My first marriage left a sour taste in my mouth," Stephanie answered. "I caught my husband fucking the town whore on my dining room table."
"Trenton has a town whore?" I asked, laughing.
"Yes. The skank answers to the name of Joyce Barnhardt," Stephanie replied.
"I heard of her. Barnhardt knows Vinnie," I added. Stephanie snorted.
"I'm not surprised. My cousin once fucked a duck. It's how I got him to hire me as a BEA. I used that to blackmail him," Stephanie confessed. The woman was perfect for me. I had to make her mine.
"Babe, here's my card with my private number. Call if you need help," I said, sliding a business card across the table.
She smiled as she read the card. "It's just a number."
"Don't share it," I ordered. Stephanie nodded, then carefully tucked it into her purse. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," she readily replied.
"Follow me," I said. I dropped money on the table to pay for our food.
Stephanie got into her car and followed me to Sunny's gun shop. I hoped we could ride together, but her way was better. It gave me the freedom to leave when called by a contact.
She was nervous about applying for a gun permit. I expected it to take a lot of time for her to learn to shoot the weapon with accuracy. Stephanie surprised me by hitting close to the centre of the targets. "I don't like guns," Stephanie mumbled after placing her weapon on the ledge.
"Babe, you're a natural."
"I said that I don't like guns. Not liking guns is not synonymous with being unable to aim and shoot one," Stephanie retorted. She tore the gun apart to clean it, then reassembled it.
"When did you learn?" I asked. Stephanie shrugged without answering. She paid for her gun, the license and ammunition. Her brows furrowed as she grumbled that she only had fifty bucks left. Dios! Stephanie was practically broke. I didn't draw attention to her mumbled confession.
Stephanie smiled at me and said, "Thank you for helping me, Ranger." She climbed into her car as I held the door open. I tucked a loose hair behind her ear, then stroked her cheek. Her skin was soft beneath my calloused fingers. I was surprised her hair felt like silk.
"I'll see you around, Babe."
Stephanie finger waved before closing her door and driving away.