As ever, thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. You make my day, knowing you're out there.

Work Up

I stood and admired the shiny doors before me. The new elevator had been installed at Haywood Street, and we were awaiting the arrival of an inspector to sign off so we could finally use it. I started a little, as I heard the lobby doors open behind me, and I turned as Carlos greeted the man who looked incongruous with his suit-and-tie, holding a clipboard and wearing a hard hat. Then again, I had no doubt Carlos and I looked equally strange in our business attire and our own hard hats. The safety gear was only strictly necessary in the areas where the contractors were working, but we didn't want to take any chances with concerns for the inspector.

We took the stairs down to the sub-basement, where the elevator contractor awaited us. I stood back and basically switched off as the three men began to talk about the technical specifications and installation process. Carlos mostly listened, and then joined me standing back, as the contractor opened the doors and began to show the inspector the inner workings of the elevator. Despite knowing this elevator was brand new, and about to be certified as safe, I still felt a little queasy looking at the mechanical equipment and greasy gears. Perhaps I always would. I murmured to Carlos that I would leave them to it. He nodded sympathetically and I slowly began to climb the stairs to the third floor.

I smiled at Bobby and a workman, who were standing beside a framed-out space, talking about the infirmary that would be installed. I walked over to the main building foreman, who was scowling over a sheath of papers on an improvised table. I stepped up to talk to him, "Good morning, Eric," I greeted him. "What has you looking so scowly this morning?"

Eric glanced up and his scowl lifted as he smiled at me ruefully, "Hi Steph. Just trying to make sense of this work schedule. So many things going on at the moment." I nodded sympathetically, as he went on, "Next week we've got to reinforce the gym floor; we're trying to schedule the fire systems installation with Rodriguez, and those people are coming week after next to install the gun range. Between the electrical contractors working on the lighting and the wiring for the computers, and the plumbers wanting to finish on this level for the washrooms and infirmary, it's a bit of logistical nightmare."

I bit my lip, thinking, "When are they coming to outfit the gym?" I asked.

He glanced through a couple of pages deeper in his pile, "Mid-March," he replied. Either the twelfth or the sixteenth, depending on their current job."

I nodded, "So, we need to have the gym floor reinforced by the ninth, so they can start by installing the sprung floor," I mused. He nodded. "So when can the plumbers come?"

He sighed, "Probably not until the twenty-fifth," he grumbled, "They're working on a job in Hamilton Township, an apartment complex, and they had to go back to that after they finished on levels four through seven."

I frowned a little, that was cutting it a little fine. "Can you do the reinforcing before they finish the plumbing?" I asked.

Eric agreed, "Yeah, I think so. We have the schematics and blueprints, so I think we can get it done." We bent over the plans and schedules, and I helped Eric make notes about dates, times, work crews and job sheets. After about an hour, Carlos came to find me and began to listen and join in the discussion. We worked through it for about another thirty minutes, before Eric began to nod with more confidence, and conceded, "Yeah, I think this will work. It'll be tight, but there's enough leeway to make it work. Thanks Steph," he smiled at me in appreciation, "And you too, Ranger." He added the last perfunctorily and I saw Carlos smirk at the afterthought.

Carlos squeezed my waist and drew me away from Eric back toward the stairs. "Has the inspection finished?" I asked him.

"Not quite. They moved up to the roof. Good sign, though, they took the elevator." I chuckled at his humour. "We'd better take the stairs, though."

I groaned, but fortunately we were only moving up one floor at a time. We stopped on four to inspect the apartments, where the drywall installers were finishing up one of the studio apartments, while the last of the two-bedroom apartments had men installing flooring. I felt a thrill of excitement seeing the work nearing completion on this floor. After a few minutes observing, we moved to the fifth floor, where the walls were still framed out, but not finished, as the electrician crew moved through, pulling wiring through holes drilled in the beams and bundling together multicoloured wires into a tangle I would never comprehend.

We moved over to speak to the foreman of the electrical sub-contractor, to confirm a detail about level three that Eric had mentioned. Alonzo, the sub-contractor, moved over to his own bundle of grubby papers and plans to check their schedule. Fortunately, he confirmed they could work to the timetable for level three, and we then moved up to level seven. Six was complete to the point of outfitting for the kitchen, laundry, and the caretakers' apartment.

Seven was basically complete as well. The two penthouse apartments were intersected with a small lobby with the elevator and stairwell. Our apartment was significantly larger than Marco's executive studio, wrapping around behind the lobby, but from the lobby, both apartments looked identical. Carlos led me into our apartment, and I pulled out a folder of paper filled with questions that Celia had given me. We moved into the kitchen, which was the most complete with light-wood cabinets and a pale granite countertop that had only been installed yesterday. I put the folder down and pulled out a pen to start working through Celia's questions. We talked about appliances and backsplash tiles for the kitchen, agreeing to keep it simple with white tiles and stainless-steel appliances. Carlos wanted a French-door refrigerator over a pull-out freezer. I was keen on the dishwasher and microwave. Carlos smirked at me. So sue me, I'm lazy in the kitchen.

We then walked through the living room and office space, talking through design choices, and I moved back to the kitchen to make notes where needed on the papers. We walked into the bedroom, and I sighed in pleasure at the feel of the luxurious carpet underfoot. It had been installed two days ago, an expanse of deep blue that we agreed would be offset with pale grey curtains and bedside tables, while the bed linen would be more dramatic in dark grey and white. The bed was being delivered when Celia arrived next week, and I was looking forward to shopping with her for more furniture and décor. Carlos was basically uninterested in the decorations, mainly telling me he hated clutter, so Celia and I were taking the lead. I didn't mind Carlos' taste, although I did prefer a more comfortable than minimalist environment, but Celia believed we could find a style that suited both our preferences.

We ended up in the main bathroom, which was a room Carlos and I had designed together. I was thrilled, looking at the deep blue tiles that came halfway up the walls, providing a vibrant contrast to the grey-and-white floor tiles and the white upper walls and ceilings. We had a deep, large whirlpool tub that I could not wait to christen with Carlos, and a large shower cubicle, where the tiles extended to the ceiling, with a light grey accent tile framing the wall. The double vanity cabinets matched the kitchen, but with a white marble countertop and basins and large silver-framed mirrors reflecting the frosted windows. The overall feel was luxurious, calming, and relaxing, and I thought it was perfect. From the satisfied expression on Carlos' face, I knew he did as well.

We moved back to the kitchen, and I checked through Celia's questions, before making a few final notes and comments. Carlos read over my shoulder and added a couple of extra points as I scribbled responses. I made a final note about where we had agreed to locate the gun safe in the walk-in closet, and smiled up at Carlos as he helped me gather the papers together. He led me out of the apartment, and we walked back down the stairs to the main lobby, finding Eric and the elevator contractor talking to the inspector. Carlos and I moved over and were pleased to hear that the elevator had passed the inspection, and we were free to commence using it as needed. Carlos signed the paperwork presented to him and was told that we would be sent copies of the inspection report and certification within three days.

The elevator contractor handed Carlos, Eric, and me black fobs that he explained were set to all floors. I knew Hector and Carlos had design specifications for multi-layered security access. But until the building was complete, the elevator was unlocked to reach all floors. Everyone said their goodbyes, as I looked around the lobby. It was still grey concrete on the floors; a new floor was going to be laid in the lobby, a modern and attractive terrazzo, but they were waiting for the major construction and installation to be complete, so it didn't get damaged, and the walls would be painted a soothing pale blue grey.

After the contractor and inspector left, and Eric went back into the stairwell to level three, I dragged Carlos into the elevator for a celebratory ride up to the seventh floor. Carlos grinned, but instead of getting out on the seventh floor, pressed his fob to close the elevator door again. The elevator moved up to the roof level, and Carlos drew me out to the roof, using a key to unlock the roof door. We moved over to where I saw a small card table set up with some lawn chairs, some champagne flutes, and a bottle resting in an ice bucket. Carlos had also brought up our coats and we donned them and our gloves and hats against the chilly air. I smiled mistily at Carlos and sat as he opened the sparkling wine and poured the pale gold bubbles into the two flutes. He drew his chair close to mine, and we sat close together, sharing warmth with Carlos' arm around my shoulders and my head on his shoulders.

"I love you, Babe," he murmured to me.

"I love you, Carlos," I replied.

I walked into the Plum Bail Bonds office, curious as to what Connie had for us this time. Connie greeted me with a smile and pointed me to where she had made a fresh pot of coffee.

"What do you have for me today, Connie?" I asked, doctoring my coffee to taste.

Connie snorted with a laugh, and then began, "You're not going to believe this one." I looked at her, intrigued, and she continued, "Marcus Logan took his truck and staked out Fort Dix for two weeks until he decided he could hijack a delivery of weapons. Only problem was, the truck he tried to hijack was delivering food and mess hall supplies. Once he realised that, Logan took off. He abandoned his truck and took off running into the woods nearby. He decided he had to get rid of the evidence, so he tossed away his gun he used for the hijack and stripped off all his clothes."

I stared at her in open-mouthed disbelief until she went on, "He got picked up about a mile down the road and was booked with indecent exposure. When the cops found all his stuff, they contacted Dix and realised this idiot had tried to pull the hijacking." I was chuckling now, and Connie smirked at me, "Oh, but it gets better."

I shook my head in amazement, "You're kidding?"

Connie said, "Nope. Judge went a bit easy on him with a twenty-five-thousand-dollar bond, because he hadn't hurt anyone or actually stolen anything. Vinnie bonded him, and a week later and he went back to try again. This time, it was a real weapons delivery, but the military had him surrounded in minutes and took him down hard. Broke his nose and dislocated his shoulder. They agreed to handle it through civilian courts since it happened outside the base, and the delivery company was a contractor, not a military vehicle. Vinnie, of course, bonded him out again, a million this time, because the Army was pissed and had a word with the judge. Now he's skipped out."

Connie took a sip of her own coffee and shook her head slightly in disbelief. "Dunno what he thinks is goona happen to him, but Vinnie is having kittens. Moron should never have bonded him the second time, but Vinnie only sees money."

I couldn't help laughing, this guy was an idiot and didn't know when to quit. Connie picked up the file in front of her and I leafed through it, checking details. "Any ideas where he might be hiding?" I asked casually.

Connie shrugged, "He doesn't seem all that bright, to be honest. Could be sitting at home pretending it didn't happen." I smiled at that, "But other than that, no ideas really. He put his house up as collateral the first time around, but his uncle guaranteed the rest, since the house is definitely not worth a million. His uncle has a successful plumbing business in Camden near Philly. Suppose he could be there, but I'd be surprised if the uncle was willing to lose his business over this loser."

I agreed, the uncle might even give him up. I signed for the bond authorisation and said my goodbyes to Connie. Lula came in as I was leaving, looking eye-watering in her usual collection of neon spandex, and I chatted to her for a minute, before I had to go. I left the bonds office and headed out to Haywood Street, where Carlos and I had an appointment with the gun range contractors.

At the gun range consultation, Carlos discussed some details and specifics, while I listened and took notes. Carlos had a lot of experience with gun training, and the space had been allocated very specifically. The contractors had framed and built an area for the range, an observation area, and two storage rooms. One room would have the protection equipment and cleaning supplies, and the other, lockable room would hold the guns, rifles, and ammunition. The installers were to install the movable targets, storage lockers for the weapons, and other specialised equipment for the range. It would not take them long.

We headed back to the office. Carlos had a phone meeting with Tank, and I wanted to start planning to find and pick up Marcus Logan. Carlos disappeared into his office, and I put the information up onto my whiteboard. As I was finishing, Bobby and Manny came in. I'd called them in to help with Logan. Zip and Hector were out driving the streets, planning patrol routes for various areas in and around Trenton and noting routes for quick response for break-ins and alarms. Although still working out of Newark at the moment, Raoul was assisting me by using my research for the business plan to compile lists of business and residential areas we could target for marketing.

Bobby and Manny each grabbed a coffee, and Bobby refilled my cup for me, as we began to discuss Marcus Logan and where he might be hiding out. Manny was going over to Logan's house to stake it out for surveillance, while Bobby and I were going to head down to Camden to talk to the uncle.

As we drove, Bobby asked, "How long do you think before the building is up and running?"

"Still a few months, I guess. We have to order the equipment for the monitoring room soon, since the contractors are finishing up on level five." I felt a twinge of apprehension, that I couldn't help; we were spending millions on this building. We would need to build business up pretty quickly to start covering expenses.

Bobby shot me a look and said, "Don't worry. The business is going to be successful. I'd put money on it."

I grinned ruefully at him, "I have put money on it." He chuckled.

As we neared Camden, I went over what information I had about the uncle. I gave Bobby some street directions from my map, and we pulled up in front of a prosperous-looking business called 'Camden Pipelines' and we got out to walk into the reception area.

"Good afternoon," I greeted the bored-looking receptionist, "We're looking for Andrew Logan. Would it be possible to speak to him?"

She looked us over and said, "He's just coming back from a job. Should be here in about ten minutes. Can I ask what this is about? Are you looking to book a job or a quote? Because I can help with that."

I smiled, "No, sorry. This is a private matter, not business." She looked a bit curious at that, but didn't comment further. She directed us to a small seating area around near the windows, and we sat down to wait.

It was probably only about seven minutes later that we heard a van pull up outside and saw a small crew of three men get out and saunter into the attached workshop. One of the men looked to be about fifty, burly and a bit overweight, with a heavy moustache, and I guessed this was Andrew Logan. The receptionist disappeared into the workshop, and we could hear the murmur of voices through the almost-closed door.

She reappeared, with the burly man following her, and he came over to us as we stood to greet him. I introduced myself and Bobby and he confirmed he was Andrew Logan. I asked if we could speak privately, and he led us into his office, a little suspiciously. "What's this about?" he asked. Carol said it wasn't about a job."

"We represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, Mr Logan. Your nephew Marcus missed his court date and is now in violation of his bond agreement. We are looking for him to take him back for rebooking."

He paled slightly and scowled at me, "What do you mean, he missed his court date? He told me it wasn't until next month!"

I shook my head, "I'm sorry, Mr Logan, but he was scheduled to appear for a trial hearing yesterday. He didn't show up. I'm afraid this puts his bond at risk, if we can't find him and return him to the court system fairly quickly."

His scowl deepened at that, and he sighed slightly. "Whadda ya want?" he asked.

"Do you have any idea where Marcus might be? Any family or friends that may be helping him?"

"Nah, he's an only child. My brother died about seven years ago, and his ma lives in shared apartment in Trenton, workin' two jobs to make ends meet. S'why I backed the bond for the little asswipe. Thought he needed a break, but shoulda realised he was just a dumb ass. His ma may know more about his friends, but I don't. He better hope he's in jail if I lose my business though, 'cause if I find him first, he's gonna wish he went to jail! I know plenty of sewer tanks where he can decompose."

I bit back a giggle at that and saw Bobby trying to hide a smirk. I thanked Andrew and we headed out. "Where to now?" Bobby asked.

I checked the details I had and told him, "I have an address for his mother. I don't know if she'll be home, since she works two jobs, but we can try on the way back to the office."

Bobby nodded and I gave him the address. Back in Trenton, we managed to find a blocky, brick apartment building in South Trenton that looked like an even sadder and more run-down version of my apartment building. We climbed to the fourth floor, because there was no elevator, and knocked on apartment 408. A wispy-looking woman in her fifties or sixties answered the door, leaving the chain bolted firmly in place. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Hello," I smiled, "We're looking for Allison Logan. Is she at home?"

The woman shook her head warily, "No she works at the button factory until three. And Tuesdays she goes straight to the school for her cleaning job."

I repressed a sigh, "Ok thanks. We represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, and we need to talk to Mrs Logan about her son, Marcus. Could you please ask her to call us as soon as she can?" I held out a hand with a business card. The lady took it reluctantly and looked it over.

She said, "I'll pass on your message, but we haven't seen Markie here. He has his own house."

I nodded and thanked her for her help. Bobby and I decided to head back to the office; sadly, both of these leads had been a bust so far.

At the office, I booted up the computer and Bobby and I started trying to find more leads on Marcus Logan. We looked for any news articles and found only a couple of scathing mentions of the idiotic attempts to rob the weapons trucks at Fort Dix. I couldn't help wondering if Logan would be dumb enough to go back and try for a third time. It didn't seem likely, but stupid people do stupid things, and this guy seemed pretty clueless.

I sent Bobby off to meet up with Manny at Logan's house and knocked on Carlos' office door. "Come in Babe," came the invitation. I entered and smiled at Carlos, which he returned. "Any luck with Logan?" he asked.

"Nah, the uncle thought he wasn't due in court until next month. And he's not happy. Told us he had access to sewers where a body could decompose if he lost his business. And his mom's at work until late tonight."

Carlos chuckled at the sewer comment, "That's a good one. I'll have to remember that next time I have to dispose of a body," he said.

I laughed as well, "I imagine it would be a good way to destroy evidence." I sighed, "We don't have much to go on from here. As dumb as this guy is, I doubt he's living at his own house right now. I did wonder…" I trailed off.

"What Babe?"

"Well, I wondered if you had any contacts at Fort Dix? I just thought they might have more information or even be able to keep an eye out for Logan, if he's dumb enough to go back to the area."

Carlos looked thoughtful, "Yes, I know a couple of people. I don't expect much, but I can reach out to them and see what I can find."

"I don't really expect much either. I'm just scratching around for any leads I can find."

Carlos nodded, "Give me half an hour or so, I'll see what I can do." I went around his desk to give him a brief kiss and skipped out the door to his chuckles.

About forty minutes later, Carlos' office door opened, and he came out, shaking his head. "You're not gonna believe this," he told me, "Logan has been seen around the base twice since he was arrested the second time. I spoke to two people I know there, and it's all over the base. Everyone's been told to watch out, and they're providing armed escorts for their delivery contractors. They all think he's gonna try again." Carlos' disbelief was clear.

I shook my own head in equal disbelief. Then it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. "Carlos!" I exclaimed, "What if we set a trap? We could hire a van and pretend to make unescorted deliveries to the base. And if Logan shows up, we could have a couple of men in the back of the truck as well as the drivers. We could even clear it with the base, if you can, and drive inside as if we are making deliveries." I looked at him excitedly, "Well?" I asked.

He looked intrigued. "It could work. I'm sure I can get it cleared with the Base Security. Zip was discharged from Dix and the head of Logistics is another person I've worked with, Zero Wallace."

"Zero?" I asked, puzzled.

"Nickname. In logistics they have to be really precise. So, he'd always say 'zero' instead of 'none'. Earned him the nickname."

I smiled at that, and almost bounced in my seat in anticipation of setting up the sting. Carlos grinned at me, and said, "Ok, call Manny and Bobby back in, and I'll talk to Base Security and Zero." At that moment Hector and Zip walked into the office, carrying a pile of annotated maps and papers. "And fill in Zip and Hector," Carlos finished.

I did my best to explain to Zip and he helped me translate it all for Hector. They grinned and Hector complimented me on my plan, "Bueno, Estaphania."

Zip suggested he and Hector could go and scout for a delivery van we could hire. Having been discharged from Fort Dix, Zero was familiar with the vans that made deliveries and said he could find something similar. I agreed, telling them to call if they found something promising. I would make sure someone met them with a Rangeman credit card for the hire.

I picked up the phone and called Bobby's cell. He picked up, "What's up Steph?" he asked.

"Any movement there?" I enquired.

"Nada," he responded. "Place is deserted and when Manny scouted, he saw uncollected mail, and a good layer of dust on the floors. Don't think he's staying here."

"Well, that's a pity. Turns out he's not completely dumb!" I joked. Bobby agreed. I went on, "We want you and Manny to come back into the office. We have another lead, I'll fill you in when you get here, and we're going to try and set up a sting for him."

"Sounds good," Bobby responded. "I'll let Manny know and we'll be there in about twenty minutes." We disconnected and I sat, excited about the prospect of setting this trap.

I loved this job. Buying granny panties was never this exciting.

Please review if you can. I thought I knew where these next couple of chapters were going, but my muse decided on a different track! Oh well, I'm just the scribe here. We'll have to see what's next.