Chapter 22: Partner Clash
Steph’s POV
A week later, Lester and Tank take special joy in letting me know that they’ve seen the wheelchair racing tapes and are teasing me about finding a workout that I can do sitting on my ass. Bobby is thrilled that Sarah has finally found something to do with me that I like; I was vocal with him about the fact that I still didn’t like her.
They’ve settled into San Antonio and have found apartments, but they still haven’t found office space that they like. Everything they saw online failed to meet requirements in person, so they’re contemplating constructing a building but that means remaining in Texas even longer.
The SA RangeMen are making a big splash on the streets, hauling in fugitives left, right, and center. The guys already have all the contracts they can handle and are contemplating requesting more men from each office. Lester’s having a field day hiring, but the training hasn’t gone like he hoped. The military men are definitely having problems with the ex-cons and ex-gang bangers. Creating unity in that office has not gone as smoothly as it has in the past.
In any case, they’ve barely been there a month and they’re being flooded with requests from bond agencies to take on their skips. I hear from Connie that word is out through the PBUS about RangeMan’s reputation and every bond agent with outstanding skips in the state of Texas is considering RangeMan. Vinnie is in tears at the thought of losing Ranger and his men from Trenton.
“Tell the weasel that RangeMan Trenton isn’t going anywhere. Hell, we have a 100% capture rate on his skips this month, so what’s he crying about?”
“It’s the thought of losing Ranger, honey,” Connie says. “He’s had Ranger here for four years, and he’s gotten used to knowing that the top man in charge was here in Trenton. You know the weasel doesn’t like change. Hell, he still hasn’t gotten over the fact that you’re gone.”
Vinnie has replaced me with a rat of a guy named David Pickens. Lula and Connie hate him, but acknowledge that he’s good at the job.
“He’s not you, Steph. It’s like working with Morty all over again,” Connie says.
Connie can’t stand him. Apparently, he asked her out, then stood her up saying he had to babysit. She saw him later that night with Joyce Barnhardt. That was unforgivable. She poured five gallons of tomato water in his gas tank and has barely spoken to him since.
I ask the RangeMen to run a background on David. Hal smiles and hands me the file. They’d already done it twice, and he’s clean. Former cop, retired. Divorced, three kids, lives in an apartment. Currently having some expensive car trouble and can barely make his rent. Ahh . . . he got cleaned out in the divorce. Couldn’t keep it in his pants.
Well it’s official. I’m a RangeMan . . . er, RangeWoman. I no longer have a job with Vinnie.
“White Girl, when’s the next time you gon’ get sprung from that building? Shit we ain’t seen a doughnut down here in weeks.”
I decide not to mention I haven’t seen a doughnut in nearly six weeks. Well, not a fried one.
“How about we go shopping on Saturday? I need a day out of here.”
“Hell yeah! I’ll have the Firebird ready and waiting to roll. I need me some new Via Spigas. What time?”
“How about 11? I should be free then.”
I add the shopping trip with Lula to my calendar. I’ve learned that if it’s not on the calendar it doesn’t exist. My life revolves around my calendar, and Hector makes sure that my phone, a new iPhone, stays synced with it.
11AM Saturday rolls around and I’m ready to go. I’m headed down to the first floor when I run into Hector coming in. He’s helping Ella with the weekly grocery run but stops in front of me and lifts an eyebrow.
“I’m headed out to go shopping with Lula.” This gets a frown and a shake. No.
“Yes.”
He shakes his head again and motions for me to follow him. I ignore the order and roll out the door to Lula’s car. We’re at the QuakerBridge Mall and I’m enjoying the freedom of finally being out on my own when Hector pops up and catches me off guard. Thankfully Lula is distracted by a pair of clear pumps and misses Hector’s arrival. If not for Hector’s hand on my arm, I might have jumped four feet into the air.
“The ‘no’, Angelita, was not a ‘no’ to say that you couldn’t go,” Hector whispers. “It was a ‘no’ to say ‘wait for me’. Remember? No one knows I speak English, but I hoped you understood that as your partner, you couldn’t just go off alone and not say shit to me. You’re not offline. Plus, you have no security with you and no one knew where you were going in advance. You want to piss me off? Do that again.”
The ease with which Hector snuck up on me and the fury on his face remind me of Bobby’s words. ‘Hector is his own Luca Brasi.’ I nod. His explanation makes sense and I was inconsiderate. I should have told him in advance.
Clearly, Hector watches my trackers very closely. I haven’t been here 15 minutes.
“Sorry.”
“Español.”
“Lo siento.”
“Muy bien.“
The Spanish finally catches Lula’s attention and she looks over at us. The sight of Hector makes her pause for a moment before looking at me.
“Hector is my partner. He’ll be joining us for the rest of the day.”
Lula is not happy about this at all. “How in the hell are we supposed to shop with him along? And whatchu mean, he’s your partner? What am I? And what we gon’ do with some skinny Hispanic dude tagging along anyway? Ain’t that the one that don’t speak any English?”
I’m not sure what to say to Lula. The last few weeks have been hard on her. Tank’s gone and apparently their talk at her apartment didn’t go well. I’m working at RangeMan full-time now so we don’t see each other all the time. Knowing that she’s been replaced by Hector is, I think, the last straw for her. She sets the pumps down and barrels out, knocking people out of her way, headed to the food court. I motion to Hector.
“Give me some privacy with her.” He lifts an eyebrow and shakes his head. No. Well, I deserve that; Hector is not allowing me to go anywhere alone since I’ve acted like an ass. We hurry after Lula and I finally find her in the food court with a single burger. Even her appetite is gone. I sit across from her and Hector sits next to her.
“Lula, you will always be my partner. Hector is my RangeMan partner, but he’s also the head of my security.”
That makes Lula look up at me and over at Hector. She’s still angry, and I don’t know how to make her feel any better.
“With Ranger in the wind and the guys out of town, they were worried about me having someone watching my back. Hector has never had a RangeMan partner, so they partnered us up. That doesn’t mean that you aren’t my partner also. We’re friends.”
“Don’t lie to me, Stephanie. You work at RangeMan all the time. You gotta put in a damn request to get you out that building to do anything. You don’t come and hang out at the Bonds Office no more, so we never see you.”
I nod. “You’re right. I do work at RangeMan and my schedule is packed, partly because I’m in training. I’ll never be able to go after any skips if I don’t meet the RangeMan standards, so the guys are working with me to meet standards as fast as I can.”
“You’ve been a bounty hunter for four years. Seems to me you did alright. We always got our skip and we had a good time doing it too. Why not just quit and get your job back?” Lula asks. She’s finally eating her burger.
I can’t say I haven’t thought about doing just that. Normally I have that thought every morning at 6:10 AM. “Because Ranger and the guys have also asked me to run things while they’re in Texas. So I can’t just leave because I promised I wouldn’t. I promised the guys I’d hold the fort for them.”
I grin at Lula and get a small smile back. “So even though I’m not at the Bonds Office, it’s not like we can’t see each other. It’s just that when we hang out it can just be about having fun, not trying to wrestle some naked greasy skip into the car or you leaving me at the station,” at this Lula grins big, “or getting shot at or trying to do surveillance. We can shop and go clubbing or eat out. I can’t do that with Hector without it looking kinda weird.”
Hector raises an eyebrow at me quietly. I smile.
Finally Lula laughs. “Yeah, you got that right. You and some skinny Hispanic dude with two teardrops on his face does look funny, but shit, some of that crazy shit we used to get into was fun. Exciting stuff always happened when we got together.”
“What makes you think that’s going to change?”
We both look at each other and laugh.
The afternoon is much calmer. Hector takes on the traditional role as bag mule while we shop till we drop. Working at RangeMan has definitely been a good financial move. When I checked my bank account after the first payroll at the helm, I nearly had a heart attack at the balance. I called Tank immediately.
(Flashback in italics)
“TANK!” I can hear Tank excuse himself from the room.
“Little Girl, what’s wrong? Are you in danger? Do you need help?”
“Oh God, Tank, I screwed up payroll! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what to do.”
I hear Tank exhale. “Shit, I thought you were in danger. Look, if you screwed up payroll, call the accountants. They can help you get it squared away.”
I call the company accountants who, after reviewing the balance sheets and statements, tell me that payroll went just fine, no problems. My bank balance is another story.
“Ma’am, I don’t see any problems. Your annual compensation is $250,000. Your direct deposit was executed just fine. What is the issue?”
The issue is my annual compensation, as you termed it. I text Tank to call me when he has a moment. 30 minutes later he calls.
“Tank, I’m sorry about earlier.”
“It’s fine Little Girl. The accountants said there was no problem so what spooked you?”
“Who decided my salary?” It’s quiet on the other end of the phone.
“Bobby, Lester, and I.”
“Tank!”
“What?”
“It’s obscene.”
“It’s standard.”
“I have no training or qualifications for this job and you’re over-paying me.”
“Steph, I’m not going to get into your training and experience. We decided you were appropriate for the job. Now, how much do the XOs make?”
“$125K.”
“Strategists?”
“$100K.”
“Liaisons?”
“$100K.”
“So, knowing the salary levels, what did you expect us to pay you?”
I have no answer for that. I’ve spent so many years one skip away from poverty that I don’t know what an appropriate salary is for anything anymore.
“Steph, that salary is what we paid Mark every time he took over. There’s no levels between the XOs and the partners, so when we appoint someone up, the salary is adjusted to handle the duties. You’re the CO. That’s the salary. Any questions?”
Nope. I’m buying Rex the extra good hamster pellets from now on and a new habitat.
I decide to be responsible with my money. I place half into a savings account. It’s the first time I’ve had one since I left Dickie. Another 25% goes into the company 401(k) and an IRA. I live off the rest. It’s still far more than I’m used to, but it’s nice. I thought about buying a car, but since I go everywhere in RangeMan vehicles these days, I’m holding off. Ranger left me three of his cars but I refuse to touch them. I don’t want to test my car karma on his cars.
Plus, Lester left a car. I’ll test my car karma on his BMW first. He asked for it.
When we hit the final store my phone rings.
Mom. “Stephanie, are you coming to dinner tonight? We’re having meatloaf and your grandmother has a viewing she wants to go to.”
I hear my grandmother wrestle the phone away. Oh god. Who died this time? One good thing to come out of being marooned at RangeMan was that Mom had to escort Grandma to her viewings. Two viewings and she suddenly understood that all the times I’d had problems with Grandma at Stiva’s were not my fault.
“Stephanie, Irma Lemonski died two days ago and they’re having her funeral tomorrow. Jewish, so you know they gotta get them in the ground quick. It’s open casket and I want to see if they glued her hairpiece onto her head like her hair dresser used to or if they went for a full wig.”
Not another one. Lula and Hector are both grinning.
“No temple?”
“She didn’t like the new rabbi.” I look at my partners.
“Your granny is fun, White Girl. Come on, let’s take her to her viewing.” I tell Mom to expect one more for dinner, as Lula decides not to stay, and that we’ll take Grandma to her viewing. We swing by the house and grab Grandma. Everyone piles into the RangeMan SUV and we head off to Stiva’s.
“Well, who’s this cutie, Stephanie?” I love my Grandma. She does exactly what she wants to in life. I just wish she didn’t have to wait all these years to do it.
“Grandma, this is Hector. Hector, this is my Grandma.”
Hector looks at Grandma through the rearview and smiles. “Hola.”
Granny grins back big. “Hola. Ohh. . . he speaks the espanol huh?” The way she pronounces español causes Lula and Hector to grin. I sense trouble.
For the rest of the ride, Grandma bombards Hector with questions while Hector maintains a perfectly polite smile. At no point does he let on that he understands her. When we reach Stiva’s, the new owner comes out, probably to say something to Grandma, but the sight of Hector causes him to stop, reconsider, and walk back in.
Grandma turns to me. “Can I keep him? I’ve never seen Peter Clifford run back inside Stiva’s that fast. Usually he can’t wait to tell me what to do and put a guard on me.”
I’m thinking Peter thinks we brought a guard for her. Poor man. He has no clue.
Stiva’s is packed with mourners, but my Grandma is not a mourner, she’s a spectator. After munching on a cookie (“Dry. Slightly stale.”) and greeting the widower (“Irma always bragged her husband was a stallion. Looks like it might be true. He’s neck deep in women. I might give him a go.” Eww Grandma.), Grandma moves toward the casket. Peter is watching us, worry on his face.
The next few moments are right out a bad movie. Grandma raises her arms to reach into the casket to tug on the deceased’s headpiece when Hector appears right behind her. He grasps Grandma’s arms to keep her hands down, but the halt of her upward trajectory jostles the trestle the casket is on. Hector is rapidly moving Grandma back away from the casket but the damage is done.
The jostling knocks the flower spray off the casket. The body shifts slightly, and all of a sudden we hear the world’s loudest fart and a horrible odor spreads through the funeral home. Jewish funeral. No embalming. We can’t move Grandma fast enough, and I’ve lost sight of Lula. Turns out, she’s already at the SUV.
There are no words.
I catch Hector’s eye and bite my lip.
“Well, they used a full wig. Shame. She looked better with her hairpiece.”
Hector’s POV
I’ve heard all the stories about Angelita’s Abuela and I wasn’t sure how true they were. I was inclined to believe them; after all, this woman is related to the one who shot up my security remote because she didn’t understand it. I didn’t think it too unbelievable that the Grandma might be certifiable.
I was wrong. Her Abuela (grandmother) is completely insane. Might did not even apply.
The funeral home viewing was my first clue. My second clue was during dinner. When we returned to Angelita’s mother’s house, I was a gentleman, opening the abuela’s car door and helping her down. For my actions, I was fondled openly, but since Angelita was distracted saying goodbye to Lula she missed it. Her mother saw it though.
“Hello, I’m Helen Plum. I’m sorry about that. It’s nice to meet you …” She trails off and waits expectantly. Angelita appears by my side.
“Mom, this is Hector. He doesn’t speak English.” Her mother looks at me and nods, still smiling somewhat. The teardrops concern her. “He’s also my new partner.”
I can see her mother puff up, ready to begin firing questions, when it happens. She looks at me, looks at Angelita, and lets out a deep breath. “Well, unless he speaks Italian your father won’t care. I’ve already heard what happened at Stiva’s.” Mrs. Plum turns to her mother. “Why?”
Maybe the personality transplant the guys were talking about was true. I’ll watch this Pod Mom very carefully. She might still be a threat to Angelita.
“I told you, I wanted to see if they went for a full wig or left her hairpiece.”
“And?”
“Full wig.”
“Don’t you ever wonder what people will do at your funeral? Considering how many funerals you’ve disrupted?”
“Nope. I’ll be dead so I won’t care. All the funerals I’ve disrupted were for people who are now in the ground so they aren’t coming back after me. Unless that zombie thing turns out to be true.”
Certifiably insane but cool clear logic. If not for her bony fingers and lack of self control, I might like Granny.
We’re ushered inside and I nod to Mr. Plum. Angelita does the introductions and I get a nod back. I’m placed across from Angelita, right next to the abuela.
I spend my meal being fondled and harassed under the table. I’ll give Granny Mazur props, she’s sly. My hips, ass, and dick are all pinched and she takes joy in continuing to try to feel me up. I’m just waiting. I’ll get her before I leave. I’m determined. I’ve got to find a way to break her. I won’t live in fear of coming over here just because of Granny Mazur, and time spent with her granddaughter has given me an idea.
The meal finally ends and we take Granny Mazur back to Angelita’s old apartment with us. I’m fond of this place. It was the first time I met my brother’s mujer (woman), the one he was serious about, and she seemed determined to make it on her own. I’m not throwing my cap in the air, but every time I come near this door, that theme song starts in my head. Weird.
I unlock the door and perform the intruder check, which Angelita thinks is unnecessary, but I raise an eyebrow. Her Granny lives here now; best make sure it’s safe because all the weirdos she draws may not have heard the news. I wait ’til she’s in the bathroom before I make my move.
I have Granny Mazur pinned in the kitchen, my front to her back. I’m going to hell for this. I slip two condoms into her hand and watch her get excited.
“If you can last two rounds with me without having a heart attack, swallowing your dentures or breaking a hip, I’ll finish the rest of a box with you in 24 hours. And I don’t respond to ‘please’, ‘slow down’, or ‘you’re hurting me’. You ride the ride as it’s presented.” It’s the nastiest thing I’ve ever threatened, but I’m known for being creative. Granny Mazur looks at me with big eyes. “Otherwise, don’t feel me up again. I don’t swing your way.”
She looks at me, looks at the condoms, and hands them back. Thought so. Like Angelita, she delights in causing mayhem but she has problems backing up her words. The fact that I’ve taken the initiative and brought the battle to her has thrown her off. I slip the condoms back into my pocket and slip back into my ‘polite smile’ face as Angelita comes back.
Granny Mazur still hasn’t said anything, but she’s assessing me. I’m not running from her like the rest of my RangeMan brothers, so I’m an unknown quantity. I see her planning her method of attack and I hide a smile. I’ve won this battle, but the war has commenced.
I’m determined to be victorious.
