Chapter 7

It's been two weeks since the morning that Joe Morelli discovered that his best friend and first love was back in Trenton. He didn't realize how much he loved Stephanie until she completely cut all contact with anyone from Trenton after Mary Lou's wedding. Until then, his mother usually would have information on Stephanie, what she was up to, and where she lived. He didn't blame Stephanie for disappearing. What she went through was more than anyone should have to endure. However, he respected her wishes and pretended she didn't exist. It was hard. There were so many times he wanted to look for her, but he didn't want to be responsible for the people who hurt her parents to find out where she was living. By forgetting about Stephanie Plum, he was ensuring her safety.

Now, though she was in Trenton, and he did have the means to contact her, he was scared. Having his arms wrapped around her when they hugged felt like home. It's been so long since Joe felt that comfort, safety, and love. Joe's father was abusive. Rocco Morelli beat his wife Angie almost daily. Not at the level of bruises, but hard pinches on the arm, pulling her hair, and other nastiness. As Joe grew older, his father's drunken rages focused on a new target: Joe. He took his father's beating for a few years since that meant his mother wasn't getting hit so often, but when he saw his father take a belt to his younger brother, that was it. Joe started to learn to fight and soon hit his father back. Joe didn't back down. He had righteous anger, youth, and sobriety on his side, and he knocked his father out. When Rocco came to, he got up and left the house. The following day, Trenton PD arrived at his home to inform his mother that Rocco was dead. Found on the side of the road. No one is sure what happened, but Joe doesn't care; he is free of the bastard. He was fourteen.

Joseph began dating in his sophomore year. None of his relationships lasted long. It wasn't until his senior year that he realized why. Stephanie went to the homecoming parade to support her sister, Valerie, who was in the homecoming court. She was wearing a school spirit t-shirt and jeans, which looked so sexy on her, with her wild curls contained in her signature ponytail. After the game, he went over to Stephanie and flirted with her. To his surprise, she agreed to be his girlfriend. Most of the underclassmen girls avoided him, but not Stephanie. So, they started to date exclusively.

Then, the shit hit the fan. Between the fire and the car accidents, Stephanie was anxious. So, Joe decided the best way to permanently get her out of Trenton was to join the Navy. He hoped they would continue to date, and once she turned eighteen, he would have her move in with him, and they would get married. Little did Joe know that they would move away from Trenton and Stephanie would break up with him. However, he met Stephanie at her job the night before he left. She was closing the Tasty Pastry and was alone. He entered, keeping her company while she put everything away and locked the cases. She looked so cute with flour on her face.

Steph needed Joe's help with putting the boxes on top of the display case, and he obliged, and when she turned, they kissed. Well, one thing led to another, and soon, she gave herself to Joe. When they finished, he helped her get up and clean up, then drove her home. The kiss they shared that night on her front porch would be their last.

Stephanie wrote to Joe steadily for the first six months. Then she broke off with him, saying that having a connection with anyone from Trenton was dangerous for both. He tried to keep writing, but his letters were returned and unopened. Joe moved on but never forgot Stephanie. This is why pulling the trigger and asking her out was difficult. He was afraid that she would reject him again. Yes, she said it would be nice to spend time together, but she was in front of those guys from Rangeman and probably wanted to save face or maybe even blow one of them off. Should he call her? Finally, tired of debating, he called her number. Joe contemplated hanging up as the phone rang, but then Stephanie answered.

"Hello, Technical Analyst Plum speaking."

"Hi, Steph, it's Joe."

"Oh, hi Joe, how are you? Give me a minute. I'm about to enter my apartment." Joe heard Stephanie open and close the door. He heard a soft thump, and Stephanie said, "I'm back."

"How do you like your assignment?"

"It's wonderful. I love digging into the past of the bad guys."

"I meant, how do you like working at Rangeman?"

Stephanie laughed, "It's not bad. Most of the men here are nice and sweet. Very respectful. Have you worked with them often?"

Now, it was Joe's turn to laugh. "Nice and sweet? They would hate to hear themselves called 'nice and sweet.' Their street cred would go down the sewer."

"You're probably right. But, at least to me, they're nice. Except for one. I can't see to break down his walls."

"Let me guess, Lester Santos?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

Joe sighs. He doesn't want to worry Stephanie but must tell her what he knows. "From what I hear, Lester can be a real asshole, especially to curly-haired brunettes like you. I don't know much, but I do know that there was some woman who wronged him, and now he has a vendetta against all women, but especially those who look like you. I heard he could be nasty, mean, and borderline abusive."

Stephanie was surprised that Joe knew so much. Men like those at Rangeman didn't gossip or share their stories with the outside world. Hell, these men were more tight-lipped than Stephanie. "How do you know that?"

"Do you remember Robin Russell?" Joe paused for a moment. When he heard Steph's response, he continued, "Well, her sister, Annie, met Lester and a few other guys at a club one night. They flirted, and she went to a hotel with him. Well, he was fine until he wasn't. No, he didn't hurt her physically, but after they finished, as they were leaving, he told her that for a chick as smokin' as her, she was a disappointment. Annie was hurt, so she got in her car and drove home. I've heard rumors of similar stories. He doesn't seem to have an issue with fucking a woman, but being friendly with one is a no-go. However, Connie Rosolli, who works for your cousin Vinnie, says he's not bad. That could be because she's not looking to get in his pants."

Stephanie wasn't as surprised as Joe would expect. From working with Lester for the last few weeks, Stephanie knew he had issues with women. There was no other reason why he would be so abrasive with her without knowing who she was. As much as she wanted to heal him, she knew she couldn't help everyone. However, a part of Stephanie wished to embrace Lester and show him that he could open his heart because from what she heard when he spoke with his sister or his mother or when Les spoke of Ranger's girls or his wife, he had much love to give.

"He is abrasive and rude, but I can hold my own. Thankfully, I'm not trying to get into his pants. How's your family?"

Joe knew when someone wanted a conversation to change when he heard one. "They're good. Anthony's wife is pregnant with kid number four, and Cathy just had kid number two. They are both good children and provide my mother and grandmother with many bambini to spoil. I'm the rotten one who can't find a nice girl to marry and have my children, not that I'm ready for them yet. I'm not getting younger but I don't want to settle with someone. I want the right someone."

"I'm sure if my parents were alive, I'd hear the same from them. Valerie has two perfect daughters, and here I am, the old maid who would rather work."

"Well, we're some pair. Steph, would you like to go out with me one evening? We can eat in Philly, spend time, and catch up."

"Yeah, I would like that. But are you sure it's safe?"

"If you're worried, get a wig and wear glasses. I don't think anyone is looking for you soon. No one even knows where you live or what you do. All we know is that you have a job in D.C."

"That's a good idea. Does Thursday night work for you?"

Joe would have preferred a Friday or Saturday, but he'll take what he can get. "Sure, that's fine. I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Seven is perfect. I'll talk to you then. Night, Joe."

"Night, Steph."

When Joe hung up the phone, he felt lighter. Finally, he would have a date with Stephanie. Joe only hoped that this would lead to them becoming a couple. He wanted to marry Stephanie, the only woman for him. He only hoped she felt the same way. Joe wasn't keen on staying in Jersey. He would have no problem transferring to another department in another state. As long as Joe was with Stephanie, he would be happy. Now, he didn't want to count his eggs before they hatched. Still, if the conversation they just had was any indication, he knew that Stephanie Plum was interested in spending time with Joe despite the dangers. With those thoughts in his mind, he turned on the ballgame.


Stephanie, meanwhile, hung up her phone and placed it on the charging pad. Joseph Morelli. Stephanie was thinking about the boy he was when he left for the Navy and the man he seemed to have become. This Joe appeared to be more thoughtful and aware, not so reckless. He had a maturity that he lacked those years ago. Hell, Stephanie knew she had matured more as well. Could she date Joe? Yes, Stephanie thought, I can, but is it wise? As a police officer, Joe could transfer to a different department. They wouldn't have to stay in Trenton, but Stephanie didn't know if Joe would want to leave behind his mother, grandmother, siblings, nieces, and nephews. The family was essential to both of them and living 3,000 miles away from her sister took its toll on their relationship. Given their life, California was the best option for Valerie, but Stephanie was an East Coast gal.

Stephanie shook her head and decided it was time to eat. There was a part of her that still loved Joseph Morelli. After all, he was her first boyfriend, her first kiss, and her first lover. Growing up, all she wanted was to be Mrs. Joseph Morelli. But then her parents died, followed by the threats. Her life took a different path, leading her to be the top technical analyst in the FBI. She didn't want to settle down and have a family, at least not yet. She had a few more years before then, if ever. She loved her nieces, but the idea of having to raise little humans was fodder for her nightmares.

Joseph still looked good. His hair was still unruly as ever, which made him charming. His body was in decent condition, but it did look like he indulged in a few too many beers, donuts, or meatball subs, not that she could not blame him. Given his line of work, though, one would think he'd at least hit the gym a few days a week. Yes, Joe was still handsome and catch, but was he Stephanie's catch?

Stephanie decided to ponder that later. Right now, her stomach was making its displeasure known. She entered her kitchenette and was pleasantly surprised to see a covered dish. Next to it, a note was left.

Ranger requested ropa vieja, and I figured you would enjoy some. You can place this in the oven at 350oF for twenty minutes to heat up. Enjoy. ~ Ella

Stephanie removed the cover and inhaled the aroma, moaning softly as the scent of the flavors assaulted her olfactory glands. Yes, this was going to be good. She felt the dish, and it was still warm. She took a fork and stabbed a piece of meat. Yes, it was the perfect temperature; heating it was unnecessary. She grabbed a bowl and prepared a dish for herself, including the rice and black beans Ella put on the side.

Stephanie placed her dish on the table and then grabbed her tablet. Tonight would be another working dinner. Such is the glamorous life of a federal agent. A few searches finished as she was packing up, and she could start sorting through the information she had ascertained. Stephanie knew the identities that the women had on them were fake. She was impressed with the high level of authenticity they had. They managed to fool the Trenton Police Department and, initially, her. Stephanie knew that enigmas, or ghosts, existed, but only within the alphabet agencies of the various world governments. The identifications were close to the federal level but not quite. Only when she looked at the ID numbers on their driver's licenses did she realize they were fakes.

In New Jersey, the ID numbers comprise randomly selected digits and other purposely selected numbers. All ID numbers start with the first character of the person's last name, followed by nine randomly assigned numbers. The last five numbers comprise the person's birth month, year, and eye color. When Stephanie compared the individual's birth date with the ID number, it didn't match. No government would make that rookie mistake. Unfortunately, knowing that the ID is fake does not bring Stephanie or Rangeman any closer to discovering the real identity of these women.

She's been scouring the missing persons databases nationwide for those reported missing within the last two years. While Stephanie has several possibilities, she doesn't have any hits yet. She knew she was missing something. There had to be something to connect these women. Stephanie looked back at the files from the medical examiner. There has to be a clue there that she can use to identify these women. When looking at the autopsy reports for the second woman, she noticed a scar low in her abdomen, more like her pelvis. After getting her magnifying glass, she exclaimed, "Son of a bitch."

Stephanie stood up, got her phone, her food forgotten, and texted Bobby, asking him to stop at her apartment. She needed his expertise before moving forward. But, since her spidey sense was buzzing, Steph added her hunch to the search parameters and sat back, picking up the bowl containing her dinner. She absentmindedly took a bite, then paused, the world around forgotten as she savored the flavors that exploded in her mouth. This is almost as good as sex. She thought to herself. Who was she kidding? It's been so long since she's had sex that she nearly doesn't remember what it feels like.

As Stephanie continued to enjoy her meal, Bobby was in Lester's apartment, once again attempting to calm Les down. Bobby couldn't understand why Lester was such an asshole to Stephanie. She has not done anything to Lester that could be misconstrued as flirting or playing games. Agent Plum has been respectful and professional with all the men at Rangeman.

"Santos, for the hundredth time, what the fuck is your problem? Agent Plum is good at her job. She is working hard and putting in more hours than Quinn ever did. She's been nice and respectful to you, too. She has not tried to hit on you or get in your pants. You, on the other hand, have been a complete and utter asshole. Why? And don't give me the "women are all cockteases and bitches" speech. She is nothing like Ashley, and you know it."

"Fuck you, Brown. Why are you bringing that bitch's name up? You know I fucking hate Ashley."

"Yes, and rightly so. Ash was worse than a viper. But Stephanie Plum is not Ashley."

"She looks like her."

"No, Santos, she doesn't. Ashley's hair was darker and dull. Stephanie's is lighter and full of life. Ashley has whiskey brown eyes, but Steph's are a vibrant blue. Stephanie is taller and fairer. And Stephanie is a genuinely nice, good person. You know, Les, you need to let her go. Holding on to all this hate isn't good for you. You will be alone someday if you don't let it go."

Bobby felt his phone vibrate and he ignored the message, needing to keep his focus on Lester for the time being.

"Bro, I know this isn't easy for you, but you must stop having outbursts like this. Ranger's ready to send you to Miami while we work and close this case without you. Hector's already asked Ranger to offer Stephanie a position here at Rangeman. Tank and I think it's a great idea. The men love her, and she is a talented researcher. Either way, you will be working with her in the future. Either you give her a chance as a professional colleague, or you will lose out on cases like this.

Lester sighed, "I know, it's just hard."

"Then why not try by having a conversation with her, one about something not too personal? Stephanie seems to like hockey and baseball; that could be a good starter."

"I'll think about it, but I make no promises."

"That's all I can ask for. Now, I suggest you eat something and then wrap that hand. You are out of the field for at least two weeks." Bobby paused as his phone vibrated. He saw Steph's text and knew he had to be delicate about leaving Les to talk to her. "If I leave, do you promise not to damage that hand further?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…I'll be fine. Besides, Ella left ropa vieja for dinner. Are you sure you don't want some?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Thanks to your outburst, I didn't finish my reports, and now I have to go finish them before Ranger chews me out tomorrow."

"Pussy."

"Maybe, but I can kick your ass." Bobby fistpumped Lester, then calmly walked out of his apartment, making sure to open the door to the stairwell. He approached Steph's door and gently knocked. When the door opened, he entered her apartment, inhaling the enticing aroma of one of his favorite meals.

"So, Steph, what did you find?" Bobby asked.