Lester sulked after hearing the tale. "Why did you assume Morelli was dead?" I asked.
"Ranger said I needed to collect the body receipt from the TPD because Morelli was collected for examination," Lester replied defensively. "The last few times, he said that the skip was dead. I assumed Morelli was dead."
Ranger shrugged and winked at me. He set up the situation for me to prank Lester, who I owed for scaring me about my children. I supposed Ranger was paying Lester back for that incident as much as I was. Nobody messed with our children, even if it was a joke. I had warned Lester that I would get him back. It took a few years, but he never expected it from me.
"I warned you about payback," I said. "You should be glad it was only a tall tale and not what I really wanted to do." Lester lowered his head in shame.
"Steph, how many times do I have to apologize for picking up the children from school and taking them to play laser tag?" Lester asked. "You were late. I was there, and the kids were happy to see me."
"You should have told me, especially because Ranger was out of town. Did you have to disable their trackers?" I demanded.
"I thought it would be fun for the kids. We didn't want anyone interrupting us," Lester argued.
"I've heard this argument ad nauseam. Nothing gives you the right to disable my children's trackers to keep them off my radar," I said. "I thought someone kidnapped them. You're lucky to be Ranger's cousin, or I would have shipped you to Siberia in a crate, armed only with a fucking toothbrush."
"I can make it happen," Ranger added. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and stared at Lester. Ranger caught my eye, and I shook my head. It wasn't worth the chewing out we would get from my mother-in-law and Tia Isabella, Lester's mom.
"Your story was mean," Lester whined.
"At least my children weren't involved," I snarled. "Don't attempt to defend your actions. You know Ranger made dangerous enemies during his special ops career. We can't afford to have our children kidnapped because you deactivated their trackers. I have never been so afraid in my life. Nobody, not even my family, messes with my children."
"Is that why you pulled the authorization from the school and restricted my access?" Lester asked.
"Yes," I replied. "And the reason we have bodyguards for the children."
"Shit! I never considered Ranger's enemies when I took Alex and Jillie to laser tag," Lester said, sounding genuinely apologetic for the first time in two years.
"That much was obvious. If you promise never to deactivate the trackers, Carlos and I might reconsider letting you pick up the children from school," I said.
"Lester won't be returning to Miami for a few months. He's staying here with Tank and Mateo to get the newest branch running," Ranger stated. Lester gulped and nodded. He understood his orders.
I unlocked my phone to access my email. Several new emails were in my Rangeman account. I opened the latest email from Tank, which had a video attached.
Tank, the sneaky devil, recorded the tall tale. He sent it to the Rangeman office in Miami, where most of our friends lived. I couldn't stop laughing when I watched his reaction as I weaved the web of lies for that story.
Alexander's arrival halted my joyous celebration. He gasped when he saw me. "Carlos told me you were here, but I couldn't believe it. Girl, what have you done to your hair?" Alexander asked.
"I got too close to fire," I replied honestly. "Please, cut away the singed parts. I don't want it too short, but you can cut off as much as needed to get to the healthy hair."
He glanced at Ranger to see if he agreed. It wasn't his hair. "Leave enough for me to grab," Ranger said. I rolled my eyes and flipped him my middle finger. Ranger laughed and pointed to the kitchen.
I sat on the adjustable stool Ranger thoughtfully placed close to the sink, where he had a removable nozzle for Alexander to wash my hair. He didn't bother combing my hair; instead, he ran his fingers through it and clipped the locks with scissors.
Once he finished cutting away the damaged hair, my head felt lighter. I wasn't impressed with my short hair. Jillie loved practicing braids with my hair and would be disappointed to wait several months before it grew long enough for her to practice. I threaded my fingers through my hair. "It feels silky soft," I said.
"Your hair is always silky. It's shorter than you're used to wearing. I had to cut away a lot to make it even," Alexander said apologetically.
"Maybe I should rename my firstborn," I teased.
"I will always be your favourite cousin," Alexander said. He kept me out of trouble when I was younger. Alexander supported my decision to join the military. Grandma and Alexander kept me up to date with the latest gossip.
"Of course you are," I laughed.
Alexander playfully slapped my shoulder. "You love that I send you amazing products for your hair," he said.
"That too," I replied. "Thanks for coming here to fix my hair. I truly appreciate you."
"Anything for you," Alexander said. He kissed my cheek. "Carlos paid me handsomely for the inconvenience. I would have done it for free." Alexander was speaking the truth. He would do my hair free of charge. Carlos and I gave him the seed money to open his hair studio after he graduated with a cosmetology degree from the college in Ewing Township. I was proud of my cousin for doing whatever was best for him.
Alexander swept the floor, scooped it into the dustpan and deposited it into the trash. Carlos and I would have cleaned the kitchen. "I could have done that," I said, pointing to the garbage.
Waving his hand dismissively, Alexander said, "Your husband paid me well. I couldn't have you doing my job."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Whatever. Don't you have a date tonight?"
With a wink, Alexander replied, "He's cooking me dinner at his house. When I told him where I was going, he promised to wait for me and keep dinner hot."
Laughing, I said, "You should go. Have fun, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"That's the plan, girl," he replied. Alexander sashayed from the kitchen, gave the men a flirty wave and exited the door.
It was time for me to go home. I didn't have to worry about Ramirez coming after me. He was in a holding cell at the TPD, probably in the same cell as Morelli. I quickly dismissed that thought. They were unlikely to share a cell because Morelli was a cop with a broken arm. The TPD wouldn't want to be responsible for anything happening to Morelli under their nose. I could practically see the events unfolding as the boxer killed Morelli using one hand.
Ranger placed a comforting hand on my lower back as I opened the door to leave. I waved over my shoulder at the others staying in the apartment for the night. "Babe?" Ranger asked, wondering what thought put a smile on my face.
"In the car," I promised as we took the stairs.
Ranger was patient and waited until we secured our seatbelts, and he started the SUV. "Babe?" he asked again, placing my left hand on his muscular thigh. Ranger loved having my hand somewhere on his body. If I moved my pinkie a few inches to the left, I could touch his crotch.
"I shouldn't be having these thoughts, but I imagined Ramirez and Morelli sharing a holding cell in the TPD and Ramirez choking the life out of Morelli using one hand," I replied.
"Dark thoughts, Babe," Ranger said.
Sighing, I said, "I know. It would guarantee Ramirez's transfer to prison until his case goes to trial."
"What does your gut tell you?" Ranger asked.
"We have no proof that Ramirez killed anyone. There is circumstantial evidence at best. The message he left on my machine is not an admission of guilt. He simply stated that he left me a present. Ramirez's defence lawyer could argue everything else was consensual," I replied, explaining my thoughts. "What if the defence lawyer got Ramirez out on bail?"
"Ramirez would be foolish to come after you," Ranger said.
"You can't fight my battles, Carlos. The only way we can stop Ramirez is to kill him. I'm not willing to spend life behind bars for ending his life," I said. I gathered the thoughts swirling inside my mind. Everyone, including Carlos, knew how much I valued my privacy. Asking for devices to record my words and actions was hard for me to do. "I want to know what I'm walking into whenever I unlock the door. Could you install cameras in my apartment?"
"Already done," Ranger replied. "We're testing a new prototype for our residential clients."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I teased. "When did you have time to install cameras in my apartment?"
"Hector installed them in your bedroom, foyer and living room while Alexander cut your hair," Ranger replied.
His lip twitched in amusement. "What's so amusing?" I queried.
"Your cousin, Alexander, has a dinner date with Hector," he answered, throwing me for a loop. "Hector installed panic buttons. Please, Babe, use them."
"Carlos, you don't need to beg. Where did he place them?"
"On the right side of the refrigerator, your headboard, inside your closet, the side of the bathroom vanity and beneath the end table next to your place on the couch," he replied. "Babe, you have a panic button built into your watch, but it isn't always on your wrist." Ranger stroked my left wrist, feeling the smooth, bare skin. I had removed my watch at Ranger's apartment and left it behind.
"I forgot my watch," I groaned. Ranger laughed. He stroked my wrist again, then reached into his pocket to withdraw the item I had left on the bathroom vanity. "And the guys wonder why I call you Batman." I snapped my watch onto my wrist, securing it with the clips attached to the leather band.
"Babe," Ranger said with a chuckle. "I'm not Batman."
"I know," I replied, rolling my eyes heavily. "But you will always be my Batman."
"Are you sure you want to be alone tonight?" Ranger asked.
"Yes," I replied. "I have a feeling it's necessary, and I'll be armed."
He pulled into the parking lot of my apartment. "Open the link in the email I sent you," Ranger directed. I followed his instructions and accessed the cameras in my apartment. "Each camera was linked to the other. You can move to each camera by pressing the two dots on the top of that screen."
When I touched the buttons, the screen was divided into six squares—one square per camera—but I couldn't see anyone on any of the devices in the small squares. "How do I see previous footage?" I asked.
"Do you have any sensor alarms?"
"Where do I find those?"
Ranger replied, "The alarm outlines the square in red, which gets recorded and stored on Rangeman's server." He looked at my phone. "Your apartment is clear. Please check your cameras before you exit the vehicle. Our children need their mother." His intuition aligned with mine. Something was happening tonight. What the something was, we didn't know.
"We need you, too," I said, closing the program on my phone. Ranger cupped my cheek, gently stroking my cheekbone, which was still tender, with his thumb. "Carlos, I promise to check the cameras before leaving my car."
He moved his hand to the back of my head, threading his fingers through the short locks and tugged me until our lips met. The kiss was sweet and tender. We didn't get carried away in the intimate moment. Ranger rested his forehead against mine. "I love you, Babe," Carlos whispered.
"I love you," I reciprocated.
"Babe," he said.
"I have you on speed dial."
Carlos wanted to accompany me to the apartment, but I politely declined. I felt his eyes on me as I exited the SUV and walked toward the back entrance. The door was slightly ajar, likely from one of the residents unwilling to pull it closed.
I withdrew my gun from the back of my pants, held it out front and entered the building. Crickets. Nothing but the sound of nighttime creatures in the hallway. I climbed the stairs to the second floor and exhaled a breath of relief when I found the hallway empty.
While lowering my gun, I reached into my pocket for the apartment key. I placed it in the lock and listened for a noise, like a clock ticking or the whoosh of fire. When neither noise happened, I turned the key. I pocketed it and touched the door. Why was I paranoid? The cameras showed my apartment was unoccupied by some serial killer waiting behind my door. There wasn't a sign of fire, either.
"Stop it, Plum," I muttered, turning the handle and opening the apartment door. My foyer was empty. Sensing Carlos watching me, I finger-wave at the camera. I closed and locked the door, slipping the security chain in place. Without turning on the lights, I walked to my bedroom, pulled the curtain aside and watched as my handsomely sexy husband pulled out of the parking spot.
I changed into my sleep shorts and shirt, tucking my gun into the waistband, before going to the bathroom to brush my teeth. A noise on the fire escape grabbed my attention. I spat the toothpaste foam into the sink and used the cup to rinse my mouth. After rinsing the toothbrush and cup, I removed the gun and held it out front.
The sound of shattering glass followed the sound of something ripping. I pressed the buttons on my watch, alerting Ranger and the others that I was in danger. My watch transmitted my location while connecting to my phone so the others could hear everything happening. I hoped someone was recording the camera footage.
A large form climbed through the window. It was nearly too big to fit. "Stephanie," the high falsetto voice called. My blood ran cold. How did Ramirez get out of the holding cell?
"Get out, or I'll shoot," I warned. Ramirez laughed.
"The champ wants to play," he replied, removing a twelve-inch knife from his pocket. He tossed the sheath aside and lunged at me. I pulled the trigger, and the blade sliced into my arm.
Ramirez fell on top of me. I couldn't move. His dead weight was too heavy. My heart raced as I fought to shove him away. Blood dripped freely from my arm. It wasn't spurting as it would have been if Ramirez had nicked an artery. I was losing too much blood. "Babe," Ranger cried as my head felt lighter until my consciousness faded.