Honda Civic.
'Holy cow,' Lula said. 'Did you see him? That was Harold
Pancek. I'd know him anywhere with his yellow square head.'
I was already in motion, making an illegal U-turn. I did some aggressive driving and got myself directly behind Pancek. Rangers guys had been caught by surprise and were struggling to catch up, two cars back. We stopped for another light, and Lula jumped out of the Porsche and ran for Pancek. She had her hand on the passenger-side door when he looked around and saw her. The light changed, and Pancek took off. Lula climbed back into the
Porsche, and I closed the gap. I was riding close on his bumper, hoping he'd get demoralized and stop. He was checking his rear mirrors, weaving around traffic, taking side streets in an attempt to lose me.
'He don't know where he's going,' Lula said. 'He's just trying to get away from you. I bet he's never been in this neighborhood before.'
That was my guess, too. We were in a poor section of Trenton, heading toward an even worse section of Trenton. Pancek drove like a bat out of hell down four blocks on Sixth Street.
I hit the brakes when Pancek crossed Lime. Comstock was one block away. Comstock was Slayerland. I wasn't following Pancek into Slayerland.
'Do we have a cell phone number for Pancek?' I asked Lula.
'Can we warn him he's in Slayerland?'
'We never got a cell for him,' Lula said. 'And anyway, it's too late.
He's turned up Comstock.'
I slowly cruised a couple blocks on Lime, hoping Pancek would pop out of Slayerland. No luck. So I turned around and pointed the
Porsche in the direction of North Clinton.
When we got to the station, I left Lula with the Cayenne, and I marched Rodriguez in through the front door. I know it was moronic, but I wanted the guys to see I could capture a man with all his clothes on.
It was close to five and Morelli was gone for the day. Thank God for small favors. I didn't know what to do about Morelli. Thanks to
Rangers stupid shower gel, face-to-face meetings with Morelli were now beyond uncomfortable. Okay, lets be honest. It was more than the shower gel. It was Ranger. The man was deadly sexy.
And he was walking around without underwear. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I gave myself a mental face slap. Get a grip, I told myself. You don't really know for sure. Just because you didn't find any underwear, doesn't mean he doesn't own any. Maybe they were all in the laundry. All right, so this was a little improbable. I was going to go with it anyway, because the thought of standing next to
Ranger when he was commando had me in a state.
Connie had closed up shop by the time I got back to the bonds office, so I dropped Lula at her car, and I returned to the RangeMan building. The black SUV followed me into the garage and parked in one of the side slots. Two of the four slots reserved for Ranger were occupied. The Mercedes and Turbo were in place. The truck was missing. I parked the Cayenne next to the Turbo, walked over to the
SUV, and knocked on the passenger-side window.
Thanks for the help,' I said.
The guy in the passenger seat nodded acknowledgment. Neither said anything. I gave them something between a smile and a grimace, and I scurried off to the elevator.
I let myself into the apartment and dropped the keys in the dish on the sideboard. The sideboard also held a bowl of fresh fruit and a silver tray filled with unopened mail.
I was in the process of selecting a piece of fruit when I heard the lock tumble on the front door. I slipped the bolt back and opened the door to Ranger.
He tossed his keys into the dish and rifled through the mail, not opening any. 'How was your day?' he asked.
'Good. You were right about Rodriguez. He was open for business at the bar on Third and Laramie.' I didn't have to say more. I was sure Ranger had already gotten a full report.
'Who's getting married?'
'Valerie.'
There was a knock at the door, and Ella came in with a food tray.
'Would you like me to set the table?' she asked.
'Not necessary,' Ranger said. 'You can just leave the tray in the kitchen.'
Ella swept past us, deposited the food, and returned to the front foyer.
Ts there anything else?' she asked.
'No,' Ranger said. 'We're good for the night. Thank you.'
I couldn't believe the big bad Special Forces survival nut lived like this. Clothes washed and ironed, bed made, gourmet food delivered daily.
Ranger locked the door after Ella and followed me into the kitchen. 'This is ruining my image, isn't it?' Ranger said.
'All this time, I thought you were so tough. I imagined you sleeping on a dirt floor somewhere.'
He uncovered one of the dishes. There were years like that.'
Ella'd brought us roasted vegetables, wild rice, and chicken in a lemon sauce. We filled plates and ate at the counter, sitting on bar stools.
I finished my chicken and looked over at the silver tray. 'No dessert?'
Ranger pushed back from the counter. 'Sorry, I don't eat dessert.
Where are you keeping your Slayer?'
'Vinnie's house in Point Pleasant.'
'Who knows about this?'
'Connie, Lula, and me.'
He reached across, unzipped my sweatshirt, and released the
Velcro tabs on the vest. 'This isn't going to help you, Babe,' he said.
'Junkman shot his last two victims in the head.'
I removed the sweatshirt and the vest and put the sweatshirt back on. It had stopped raining, but it had gotten cooler.
Ranger dialed Ella and told her we were leaving. He got a utility belt and sweatshirt from the dressing room. The black nylon web belt carried a gun, a stun gun, pepper spray, cuffs, and a Maglite, plus ammo. We left the apartment, locked up, and took the elevator. There were two men waiting in the garage. I knew them both. Tank and Hal. They took a black Ford Explorer, and Ranger and I took the Porsche Turbo. Ranger was wearing the sweatshirt.
The belt was in the back.
We rolled out of the garage and cut over to Broad. It was a dark, moonless night. The cloud cover was low, threatening more rain.
The SUV's headlights stayed constant behind us. Ranger was silent, driving relaxed, his sweatshirt sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms, his watch catching the occasional light from overhead streetlights.
I wasn't nearly so relaxed. I was worried that Anton Ward might have escaped. And I was worried that he might still be there. 'You aren't going to hurt him, are you?' I asked Ranger.
Ranger flicked a glance at me via the rear-view mirror. 'Babe,' he said.
'I know he probably killed a couple people,' I said. 'But I'm sort of responsible for his safety.'
'You want to explain that?'
I told Ranger how we bonded Ward out and then kidnapped him.
'Nice,' Ranger said.
Vinnie's street was totally black, not a single light burning. Ranger tucked the Porsche into the driveway, and Tank pulled the SUV in behind him.
'I can leave you in the car with Hal,' Ranger said, getting the belt from the back. 'Would you feel more comfortable with that?'
'No. I'm coming in.'
The house was quiet, but I could feel Ward's sullen presence.
He was in the bathroom, just as we left him, shackled to the toilet and sink pipe. He didn't look happy to see Ranger.
'Do you know who I am?' Ranger asked him quietly.
Ward nodded his head, checking out the belt with the gun and the Maglite. `Yeah, I know who you are.'
`i'M going to ask you some questions,' Ranger said. 'And you need to give me the right answers.'
Ward's eyes darted from me to Ranger and beyond Ranger to
Tank.
'If you don't give me the right answers, I'm going to leave you alone in the house with Tank and Hal,' Ranger said. 'Do you understand?'
'Yeah, I understand.'
'Tell me about Junkman.'
'Nothing to tell. He's from out of town. LA. Nobody even knows his name. Just Junkman.'
'Where does he live?'
'Moves around, livin' with the bitches. Always got a new bitch.
We're not exactly best friends, you know? Like I don't know his bitches.'
'What's the deal with the killing? What's the list about?'
'Hey, man, I can't talk to you about these things. I'm a brother.'
Ranger whacked Ward in the knee with the Maglite, and Ward went down like a sack of sand.
'Anybody finds out I talked to you, I'm a dead man,' Ward said, holding his knee.
'You don't talk to me and you're going to wish you were dead,'
Ranger said.
'It's about being Five Star General. Junkman was a lieutenant in the organization out in LA. He got sent here to take over on account of Trenton's had some leadership problems. Power vacuum after our
'Are you okay?' he asked.
`I'm fine. It was getting boring, so I thought I'd take a nap.'
This got me the almost-smile. 'We're done with Anton Ward. Do you have plans for him?'
'I was going to revoke his bond and put him back in jail.'
'And the reason for this?'
'He agreed to wear a PTU and then refused when we got him released, escaping out the bonds office bathroom window before we could install the unit.'
`I'll have Tank take care of it. Well hold him over until tomorrow morning, so we can get the paperwork straight. Did you bring him in blindfolded?'
'He was wrapped in a blanket. It was dark and I doubt he saw much.'
It took forty minutes to get back to Trenton and neither of us spoke. Normal for Ranger. Not normal for me. I had a lot of thoughts in my head, but almost none of them were thoughts I wanted to say out loud. Ranger parked the car, and we got out together. When we got in the elevator, he touched the number four button.
'What's on the fourth floor?' I asked.
'Studio apartments that are available to Range Man employees. I moved one of the men out so you could have your own place until it's safe for you to leave.' The doors opened to the fourth floor and
Ranger wrapped my hand around a key. 'Don't expect me to always be this civilized.'
`I'm undone. I don't know what to say.'
Ranger took the key back, crossed the hall, and opened the door to 4B. He flipped the light on, gave me the key, and shoved me inside.
'Lock the door before I change my mind,' he said. 'Hit seven if you need me.'
I closed and locked the door and looked around. Kitchenette against one wall. Queen-size bed in an alcove. Writing desk and chair. Comfy-looking leather couch. Coffee table and television. All done in earth tones. Clean and tasteful. The bed was made with fresh sheets. The bathroom had clean towels and a basket of toiletries.
My clothes were freshly washed and folded in a wicker basket at the edge of the sleeping alcove.
I took a shower and got dressed in a clean T-shirt and boxer shorts. The boxers weren't black and silky and sexy like Ranger's.
They were soft cotton. Pink with little yellow daisies. Seemed just right for spending an evening alone, pretending life was safe and happy.
It was a couple minutes after ten, so I called Morelli at home.
No answer. Painful contraction around my heart, resulting from irrational stab of jealous insecurity. If I was having a hard time keeping my hands off Ranger, Morelli could be having a similar problem. Women followed him down the street and committed crimes, hoping to meet him, Morelli wouldn't have a problem finding a sympathetic body to sleep beside.
Morelli with another woman wasn't an appealing thought, so I sunk into the couch and did some channel surfing, looking for a diversion. I settled on a West Coast ball game. I watched for ten minutes but couldn't get involved. I channel-surfed some more. I looked up at the ceiling. Ranger was three floors above me. It was more comfortable to think about Ranger than to think about
Morelli. Thinking about Ranger got me overheated and frustrated.
Thinking about Morelli got me sad.
I shut the television off, crawled into bed, and ordered myself to go to sleep. A half hour later I was still awake. The little room felt sterile. It was safe, but it gave no comfort. The pillow didn't smell like Ranger. And Anton Ward's words kept cycling through my brain. A tear slid out of my eye. Jeez. What was the deal with the tears! It wasn't even that time of the month. Maybe it was my diet.
Not enough Tastykakes. Too many vegetables.
I got out of bed, grabbed all my keys, and took the elevator to the seventh floor. I marched across the foyer and rang Ranger's bell. I was ready to ring it a second time when he opened the door.
He was still dressed in the black T-shirt and cargo pants. I was thankful for this. I thought I could manage to keep from ripping the cargo pants off him. I wasn't sure about the black silk boxers.
'It's lonely on the fourth floor,' I said. 'And your sheets are nicer than mine.'
'Ordinarily I'd take that as a sexual invitation, but after this morning I'm going to guess you just want my sheets.'
'Actually, I was hoping I could sleep on your couch.'
Ranger pulled me into his apartment and locked the door. 'You can sleep anywhere you want, but I'm not going to be responsible for my actions if you fondle me again when I'm sleeping.'
'I didn't fondle you!'
We were at the breakfast table, and Ranger was watching me eat a croissant.
Tell me the truth,' Ranger said. 'Were you really freaked out last night? Or did you just want my sheets and my shower gel and my food?'
I smiled at him while I chewed. 'Does it matter?'
Ranger thought about it for a long moment. 'Only minimally.'
I'd slept on his couch, wrapped in a down comforter, my head on one of his pillows with the wonderful smooth pillowcase. It wasn't as comfy as his bed, but it had been guilt-free.
'I got some bad news while you were in the shower this morning.' Ranger said. 'Junkman tagged his cop.'
My heart stuttered. 'Anyone I know?'
'No. He was a member of the State Police Street Gang Unit. He was working locally, but he was based out of north Jersey.'
I was next up.
'Junkman will get taken out,' Ranger said. There are a lot of people looking for him. In the meantime, I want you to stay in the building. If I don't have to worry about you, I can have two extra men on the street tracking Junkman.'
Fine by me. I wasn't anxious to be part of Junkman's coronation ceremony. And staying in Ranger's apartment wasn't a hardship.
I poured more coffee into my mug. 'You have a lot of overhead here. How can you afford to have men following me around and looking for Junkman?'
'Junkman just killed a state cop. There's a big enough reward for
Junkman to justify assigning some manpower to search for him.
There's no monetary way to justify a security detail to watch over you. I bleed money every time you need protection.'
I didn't know how to respond. I'd never really thought about
Ranger as a businessman. He'd always seemed more like a superhero, recruiting men and cars from a parallel galaxy. Or at the very least, from the mob.
'Jeez,' I said.`I'm sorry.'
Ranger finished his coffee and stood.I said there was no monetary way to justify your security. The truth is, you're a line item in my budget.'
I followed him into the bedroom and watched while he got his gun, checked it out, and attached it to his belt.
'I have you listed under entertainment,' Ranger said, sliding money and credit cards into his pants pocket. This is a high-stress business, and you're comedy relief for my entire team. Plus, I get a tax break.'
My eyes opened wide and my eyebrows shot up an inch into my forehead. This didn't sound flattering. 'Comedy relief?'
Ranger gave me one of his rare full-on smiles. I like you. We all like you.' He grabbed me by the front of my shirt, lifted me two inches
off the ground, and kissed me. The truth is, I love you... in my own way.' He set me back down and turned to go. 'Have a nice day. And remember, you're on camera the instant you leave this apartment. I've given orders to stun-gun you if you try to leave the building.'
Ten Big Ones Page 25