Chapter 2: Negotiations (and more) Begin
Steph’s POV
11:41 PM
OWWW! The pain in my leg is so bad it wakes me out of a dead sleep. Actually, everything hurts but the leg hurts most. I look down and there’s a cast on my leg. What the hell? Where did this come from? I notice a Dixie cup, a bottle of water, and a note on the bedside table. Bobby’s handwriting.
Steph,
TRY NOT TO MOVE AROUND!
You have a hairline fracture of the tibia and moving around is only going to make it worse, so try to move as little as possible. If you can hobble to the fridge to eat the pizza Morelli promised to leave, have a few slices, then take 2 of the long white pills and 1 (and ONLY 1) of the round white pills and get back into bed. If it hurts too much to stand, call me. If you wake up in pain, you can take that same dosage every 8 hours. Do not mix it with other medication (birth control excluded) and absolutely no alcohol.
I’ll see you in the morning.
Bobby
Thank god for Bobby. I see he’s left plenty of each kind of pill, so I swing my legs out of the bed and hobble to the kitchen. The effort required takes my breath away and leaves me with tears on my face. Oh god, I’ve never known pain like this.
Joe came through for me. The Pino’s supreme is in the fridge waiting on me, so I heat up two slices and follow it up with plenty of water. I’d really like to take a shower, but since Bobby said not to move a lot I guess that’s out. The answering machine is blinking furiously but I’m running out of the energy required to listen so I hobble back to my bed. 3 pills later and I’m off to Denial land.
8:30 AM
Man, those pills are fantastic. You have about 10 minutes of consciousness before they kick in, just enough time to get comfy. However, Nature is calling me and I need to answer the call. Strong arms pull me up and hold me around the waist to help me navigate into the bathroom.
“Thanks Bobby.”
“Not quite Bobby Beautiful, but you’re welcome.” Lester says, grinning. “Tank and Bobby are warming things in your kitchen, so scrub up and join us.”
I make quick work of the bathroom. I mean, I can’t cover the cast so I can’t take a shower, so I brush my teeth, comb the scary hair, and hobble out. Lester picks me up and plops me in a chair in the kitchen. The guys are saints; there are two beautiful Boston Cream doughnuts waiting for me and a frappucino from Starbucks. Lovely. I scarf down my delicious breakfast and notice the room has gone quiet. All three are staring at me, eyes dilated, and I realized that perhaps I should tone it down. “Sorry guys. Thanks for breakfast, this was perfect.”
Tank is the first to respond (is Lester drooling?). “No problem Little Girl. How’s the leg feel?”
“Are the words ‘Like Shit’ appropriate?”
Tank smiles. “Perhaps not quite appropriate, but definitely descriptive.”
“Well, like shit it is.”
We finish breakfast in silence (well, near silence) and Lester washes the dishes while Bobby carries me to my bathroom. After a quick exam and review of pain levels, Bobby pulls out the waterproof cast he brought over, shows me how to use it and leaves so I can shower.
Oh man, this is heaven and hell. The bruises and scrapes I got from diving away from the house sting and burn, so I have to reduce the water temp and I can feel the sting of the stitches again. I move carefully in the shower, scrubbing at some spots and patting others until I feel clean again. I spend about 15 minutes in the shower before I feel the water starting to go cold, so I carefully climb out and head to the closet. I’m trying to delay the inevitable as long as possible.
“Need help, Bomber?”
“Nope, I’m good Bobby. I can manage most of this.”
“Well, look, if you need help lemme know. I brought over some sweats with a drawstring if you don’t have anything you can get your leg into.”
I’m a lot of things but I’m not stupid. I have all three available members of the core team in my living room and, despite not a word being said, I know something is up. It’s not Ranger related (they would have said something before now if it were) so I’m assuming it has to do with me. My only question is: Is this going to be unpleasant? I have a cast on my leg, stitches on my arm and head and I’m in pain everywhere, so I’m thinking that this conversation is going to be about my doing searches in the office until my butt is numb and I’m ready to climb the walls. I hate the thought but it’s not like I have any other options. If I can’t chase skips, I don’t earn money, so I have to work for RangeMan.
“Hey Bobby?”
“Yeah? Need the sweats?”
“Yeah.”
Bobby opens the bedroom door and sticks his hand containing the sweats through. The guys always think of everything. I hobble back into the bathroom, subdue my hair into submission, and put on 3 coats of mascara. I’m thinking I’m going to need every coat. Finally, there isn’t anything left for me to do, so I hobble back out to the living room. As expected, they’re still there. Bobby’s on the end of the couch, Lester is sitting on the floor at the other end, and Tank has taken up position in a chair directly across from the sofa. No, this isn’t going to be pretty. The guys share a look and Bobby turns to me.
“So, let me start with your current state. You currently have a hairline fracture of the tibia, which is the bone that runs from your knee to your ankle. Your shinbone, Steph. This is a delicate fracture which can turn into a break if you aren’t careful and if it doesn’t heal properly you will feel it for the rest of your life. So, as of this moment, you are on complete bed rest for 2 weeks and you’ll need physical therapy for 10 weeks after that.”
I don’t care how nicely Bobby tried to put that, he’s gone insane.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Two weeks complete bed rest?! I’ll go insane in that amount of time. There has to be something else that you can do to fix it! Besides, I can’t afford to be on bed rest! I have skips to catch, bills to pay—”
“And your leg needs to heal Steph!” Tank and Bobby yell back.
“Sorry Beautiful, but you need to decide right now what’s more important, your health or your bills?” Lester says softly.
“That’s not an either/or situation, Lester! I have bills! I have to be able to pay them! I don’t have time to be laid up.”
“Steph, the fact of the matter is you are going to be laid up for the next two weeks. Otherwise you’ll have a broken leg and broken legs take a lot longer to heal. So again, what’s important to you?” Bobby says.
The constant use of the word “Steph” is a clue that this isn’t going to be a great conversation. “Guys, I know you don’t see things the same way I do—”
“You’re right Steph, we’re looking at the bigger picture,” Tank says. “The most important thing to us is your health. All else is secondary. Bobby has told you what you need to know in order to heal, but you’re still arguing about it as if arguing about it is going to make a damn bit of difference. The only decision right now is if you want to be out for 2 weeks with a fracture or 2 months with a break.”
I don’t want to cry but I can feel the tears in my eyes. I don’t like either option and neither option pays my bills and the guys don’t seem to care about that and-
“Please stop, Beautiful,” Lester says softly. “If we didn’t care, we wouldn’t be here. We’ve always been here to help when you’ve needed us and this is no exception.”
He passes the Kleenex to me and I start crying. I miss Ranger. These are the moments I miss Ranger the most. I can cry in front of Ranger without feeling like an idiot. I mean, Lester is great and all and he’s doing a good job of holding me, but I don’t smell Bvlgari, so he’s falling short in the comfort department. Plus, Ranger would’ve told me that I could come work at RangeMan by now and live on the 7th floor, so I wouldn’t have to feel like I was begging for a job and help. I have so few ways to preserve my pride and independence and Ranger understands that.
He always understands.
I hear a sigh (OK, I sense a sigh….Merry Men don’t give much away) over my shoulder and brace myself. “Steph, perhaps we haven’t stated this well,” Bobby says. “We wanted you to understand how important it was to take care of your health, but we weren’t going to leave you out there to starve or lose your apartment. Even though you have to be on bed rest, there’s nothing stating that the bed can’t be on the 7th floor of RangeMan, where I can check up on you during the day and Ella can help you dress and eat. We can bring you a laptop so you can run searches and do other admin work. Hell, the most important part of the ‘bed rest’ mandate is keeping your leg elevated and immobile so the bone can heal, so how about I make you a deal?”
I finally have the sniffles under control, so I turn to look at him. “What’s the deal?”
Bobby hides a smile and passes me a handkerchief. Damn, I must look scary again. “If you can make 1 week on total bed rest, during week two, I’ll set your cubicle up with a sling to keep your leg elevated and immobile so you can be on the floor with everyone else. Sound good?”
Ranger would’ve gotten to that part a hell of a lot faster. “Yeah…. But I don’t know about living at Rangeman.”
“Well,” Tank says, “it’s your choice, but it’s the best available option. On the 7th floor you have Ella to help you shower and eat. You have a comfortable bed. You have plenty of people downstairs who would be thrilled to keep you company when you get bored. You have work you can do from the bed. If you stay here, then we’ll have to start a roster for Bombshell duty. The guys will have to travel here to spend time with you and your internet connection sucks, so it will take all day for you to run searches that usually only take an hour. You’ll be tempted to get out of bed more than necessary and you wouldn’t have any ability to fight off unwanted visitors. You could stay with Morelli—”
“Nope, we’re off. I’m trying to encourage him to see that as a permanent thing. Me laid up in his bed for weeks won’t help.” No need to tell them the true state of my relationship with Joe. I don’t miss the silent look that passes between the three of them, but I’m too tired from crying to call them out on it.
Lester picks up. “OK, Morelli is out. I gotta say, I don’t like the option of your parents’ but it’s your choice. One bathroom, stairs to navigate, dial-up internet, your Mom hovering with applications to the button factory—”
“Thanks, Les. You’re doing a great job of selling Mom’s as a recovery home.” Ah sarcasm, there you are.
There’s no shame in Lester’s answering grin. “Sorry Beautiful, but I really was trying to find an advantage and I couldn’t find one. Not to mention your Granny means that the men aren’t going to want to visit without assurances that their asses will remain unmolested and your Granny has no shame. Or restraint.”
Point taken. Game, set, match. Looks like I’m staying at RangeMan until I’m mobile again, but I’m not going down without a fight.
“Fine, I’ll move to RangeMan, but only on two conditions.”
“Name them.” Tank says.
“One of you, at minimum, has to go with me to dinner at my parents’ house tonight.” I see the barely concealed grimaces on Tank and Bobby’s faces and I’m assuming Lester is no exception. “Come on, it’s not going to be pretty. By now, my parent’s phone line has rung non-stop with the report from yesterday’s adventures” that gets a snort from Tank, “and I haven’t called yet to say anything. I’m sure I have a summons to dinner tonight on my voicemail, so I might as well get it over with. If I move to RangeMan without explaining anything, you can expect to see my Mom and Grandma at RangeMan the moment the news hits—”
“OK, Ok ok,” Tank says, looking pale. I think the idea of my mother and Grandma showing up has scared him. Again, I watch the ESP discussion around me and, yup, it appears that Bobby is definitely the loser here….wait, the discussion continues…..”Alright, Bobby and I both will accompany you to dinner tonight.” I can feel Lester grin behind me. “So, we’re agreed, then. You’ll come work for RangeMan for the next 12 weeks-“
“Wait, wait wait, 12 weeks? I’m only on bed rest for 2.”
“2 weeks of bed rest, Bomber, and 10 weeks of physical therapy. Remember? So you aren’t going to be chasing skips for three months. Even once you get the cast off, we have to ease you back into moving on that leg so you heal completely. Not to mention the stitches in your arm and head need to heal and the road rash you got from sliding along the ground.” Damn Bobby and his medical expertise. And I haven’t forgotten that I had a second condition.
“There was a second condition.”
Tank hesitates this time. Visions of Grandma are probably dancing in his head.
“The guys are great and all, but I’m not going to survive without female companionship. I want to be able to have Lula, Connie and Mary Lou visit me too.” This time the silence lasts longer and the ESP conversation is quieter. I sense a fight on my hands.
“I really can’t give you that one, Steph” Tank says. I open my mouth and Tank raises a hand to stop me. “Seriously, you’ll be staying in Ranger’s apartment, an apartment to which no one except the people in this room, and Ella, have key fobs. Most of the men in the company have never even been up there, let alone inside. That’s Ranger’s sanctuary and it’s his personal private space. I don’t have a problem with you living there because that’s his preference, but I cannot and will not open his home up to everyone without his knowledge. Shit…” he glances at Bobby, who is silent. More ESP conversation ensues.
“Alright, here’s the deal. During week one you have to stay in bed, so you can work from 7. We’ll bring you down during certain periods, like lunch, so you can visit with everyone. During week 2, you’ll be on the floor with the guys, so you’ll have plenty of companionship and if you want to visit with the girls, we’ll setup a conference room on 3 for you and cut the audio and video feeds. How’s that?”
Hmm…my living on 7 is Ranger’s preference? Something to think about later. “What about an apartment on 4?”
“Nothing open. We have a new hire coming on in four days that just got out the military and he’s taking the last available apartment. We promised it to him in writing.”
It sucks but I see his predicament. Honestly, I like the fact that Ranger’s 7th floor apartment is a mystery to most people. If it were available to everyone to visit then I would have to hear comments from Lula and Connie about how it’s decorated, how they would redecorate it and there would be never ending questions about what’s gone down in Ranger’s bedroom, which I don’t want to answer (and don’t have any answers to). I definitely don’t want to put up with that.
If my mom or grandma ever found out I could have visitors while in bed, Mom wouldn’t stop until she were allowed to visit every day to comfort and care for me (read: nag the hell out of me) and inspect the place to find out if it’s up to her standards and Grandma Mazur would paw through all of Ranger’s stuff, which would definitely piss him off. Mary Lou might be the only person who would respect Ranger’s home and stuff…yeah, better that no one has access. I try to think of an alternative but I can’t. I don’t want to live anywhere else (promising me Ella was enough to move me to 7) and knowing that I can work to do searches to pay my rent means I won’t be completely broke. It’s the best option. Hell, it’s really my only option.
“OK. I give. I’ll move to 7.” I get three huge grins for an answer and, for a moment, I’m struck by how gorgeous the guys are.
I want to see a RangeMan employment contract. I’m certain there’s a physical attributes clause in there that only the muscled and gorgeous need apply.
Laughter. Great, I said that out loud.
“Yeah you did, Bomber, but thanks for the compliment.” Bobby pulls three beers and a soda from my fridge. “Let’s toast to your recovery and residence with us.”
“Hear hear!”
I take a long swig from my Coke and lean back. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. Ranger would’ve gotten there faster, but in the end I still get to live on 7 while I recover. Not bad.
“Now, let’s get to the business end of this discussion, Bombshell.”
What that F-?!
Tank’s POV
Last night, Les, Bobby and I decided that the discussion with Steph was going to need to take a certain direction. No matter what, I’m the authority. Bobby and Les can make all the concessions and negotiations, but at the end of the day, Steph and I are the ones who are going to have to come to the agreement. If I’m going to set the expectation with her that I’m the one in authority, then she can’t be allowed to think that whining will work with me. Besides which, right now I don’t have the temper to deal with it. So Lester will be the soft touch, good cop if you will. Bobby will be the bad cop. I am the voice of cold hard facts. Everyone has a part to play.
The hardest part about this morning? Talking. It calls for a helluva lot of talking. The government has trained me not to talk. This is gonna be difficult.
So step 1 was separating her medical needs from the business discussion we need to have. Now that she’s conceded to everything that we wanted (we anticipated the female visitors question and had a response ready for that. The ESP discussion was just for show), we can start on her role at RangeMan. Her face shows fear and apprehension. Clearly, she wasn’t anticipating this curveball. Good. Steph’s so damn intuitive that we’ll have to stay a step ahead just to keep pace with her.
“What happened yesterday?”
Steph looks down at her fingers. She knows she fucked up badly and doesn’t want to admit it but we have to start somewhere.
“Well, I got the file 5 days ago from Connie. It’s taken me that long just to figure out where to find him. In the end, Mary Lou called Becky Latham, who was a cheerleader with Nancy, Thomas Mann’s girlfriend. Becky said she spotted Nancy, leaving a house in Ewing when she went to pick up her kids from her ex-husband. So I checked it out and found on that Nancy’s cousin, Sue lives there. I didn’t see Thomas so I called my cousin Francie, who told me that Sue’s cousin Drew lives in Franklin Park and that Drew and Thomas are drinking buddies. They went drinking last night at a bar and I don’t know what time they got home because I left at midnight. So I went yesterday morning hoping that he was still hung over and that I could cuff him and get him downtown. I mean every other drunk hung over skip comes along quietly as long as I stop talking loud so I wasn’t expecting any trouble.”
Inside I’m trying to decide if I want to laugh or shake her silly. Bobby’s reaction is easier to read. He’s pissed. Lester is the wild card. He’s…well, I can’t tell. I think that he’s having almost the same reaction I am. He can’t decide if he wants to yell at her or leave.
“Beautiful, when did you decide that your life doesn’t matter?” Lester asks softly. What?! This is a deviation from the plan. I can’t get any eye contact with Lester and Bobby looks as alarmed and confused as me. Dammit Santos! We had a plan. It was going beautifully. Then again, Lester is renowned for his ability to improvise on his feet, so I’m going to go with it. Please Lord, don’t let him fuck it up.
“Lester, that isn’t fair. I followed him around. I expected him to be drunk and hung over—”
“Sorry Beautiful, but I’m not buying that.” Ah, Lester has decided on pissed. Another deviation from plan. WTH? Well, I’m going to let him run this for a while. “What were his charges, Beautiful?”
“Arson…”
“Arson and assault, Beautiful, among others. The DA is still trying to decide. What are his priors?”
“Umm…” She can’t remember what was in the file. She really expected him to come along quietly simply because he was drunk. Shit, anyone working in fugitive apprehension knows that the drunks and druggies are the most dangerous. They’re out of their fucking minds.
“Assault, assault with a deadly, armed robbery, B&E, assault, distribution of a controlled substance, possession of a controlled substance, assault. There’s more, but I can’t remember all of it. I do remember 14 separate counts of assault. Lots of bar fights. Beautiful, this wasn’t a guy who was going to come along quietly. This is a guy who beat the shit out of his girlfriend. He beat up the woman he loves, likes, fucks, whatever, and now you appear at the door to haul him back to jail? Did you really expect him to come along quietly?”
The tears have made a reappearance and Lester is out of character. Hello?! What happened to good cop?
“Well, no matter what I always get them, don’t I? I mean, I might have to take a few blows to do it, but I always get my skip.”
“Well, this time you’re out of commission for three months,” Bobby says. “In that amount of time—”
Lester shakes his head sharply and glares at Bobby. Oh, I get it. Bobby and Lester need to switch roles. Lester playing bad cop with her will go farther than Bobby because she and Les are so close. Bobby is the one who patches her up and makes her feel better, so he needs to play good cop. Whatever. My role hasn’t changed.
“In that amount of time, what Bobby?”
I can see the beginning of rhino stage. She thinks she knows where Bobby was going to go with that sentence and she wants to go there. As long as she’s angry, she doesn’t have to acknowledge to us that she screwed up. She can use it as justification to kick us out of the apartment, have a pity party, then move to RangeMan when she’s ready. No way, Miss Plum. We’re on to you today.
“In that amount of time, Vinnie will have replaced you because as long as you’re sidelined you aren’t bringing in skips for him. That means that once you’ve recovered you’ll have to either blackmail or beg Vinnie for your job back, which he might not agree to if he gets someone good to replace you. No matter what you think Little Girl, we’ve always admired the way you kept going and didn’t allow anyone or anything to stop you, but if Vinnie finds a replacement, he’s got you over a barrel. He could force you to either share or compete with the replacement for skips. And given that RangeMan gets everything over $50,000, sharing the $5,000 and $10,000 skips won’t make your life any easier.” Finally, I get to play. Cold hard facts, coming right up.
She glares at me. “Vinnie won’t replace me. He can’t. He has Joyce the skank and Lula and, no offense Tank, neither of them can match my record by a long shot.”
“Before you, Little Girl, there was Morty Beyers. Hell, he replaced Morty with you and all Morty had was a busted appendix! You’re good, hell you’re great, outstanding, a fucking legend really, but you are, in the end, replaceable.”
Facts. I like facts. This statement is met with silence. It looks like phase 2a of the plan is complete. Get Little Girl to start considering the end of her solo BEA career.
“We aren’t trying to discourage you Beautiful—”
“Well, you don’t sound like a cheer squad right now, Les! None of you do!”
“Can’t help it,” Lester says. “Our concerns are your health, safety and happiness. Normally we try to meet all of those equally, but when push comes to shove Beautiful, your health and safety come before your happiness. And no, we don’t do it because Ranger orders us to. We do it because we care. We love you. You’re like a little sister to me and all I want to do is keep you safe. You’ve chosen a dangerous career and you’re good at it, but you still haven’t answered my original question: when did you decide that your life doesn’t matter? Because I’m telling you, if something happened to you, RangeMan would not be the same place. I would not be the same man.”
“Neither would I,” Bobby says. He holds Steph’s gaze before breaking to look at me.
“Nor would I, Little Girl. Let’s be clear here. You mean the world to us. You mean the world to every man back at Haywood.” She’s gotta be outta Kleenex at this point. I mean, jeez, she’s leaked continuously for the last 30 minutes. We leave her to her tears for a few minutes before passing over our handkerchiefs. Bobby starts scouting for more Kleenex and settles for a roll of toilet paper. I check the time. 11AM. Ella is due to arrive at noon to help us pack. Gotta get the show on the road.
“So, let’s talk business Little Girl.” Now she looks tired and upset, but we gotta press on. We expect a week-long trip to Denial and there’s no need to put it off.
“Yeah, I know. I’ll be doing searches while in the office for the next 12 weeks.”
“Not exactly,” Lester says. Her head lifts. Interest. Good. “Searches are the minimum of what we want you to do. See, the thing is you have instincts second only to Ranger when it comes to fugitive apprehension.” She looks shocked. “What, you thought Tank was blowin’ smoke up your behind? He wasn’t. You’re great at finding skips. What you suck at is apprehension. You have no stamina, you don’t know any self-defense or immobilization techniques, and you don’t carry. Consistently.”
Ah, welcome back rhino. We wondered where you went.
“No, let me finish. You can find them no matter where they hide. Hell, you can even find them on Stark Street and people there don’t talk. But when you try to apprehend alone, or with Lula, that’s where you fail unless it’s one of your regulars. Think about this Beautiful. When you work with a RangeMan partner, he simply does the heavy lifting. Even when you ride with Ranger, you already know where to find them. Ranger simply helps you get them to the cop shop. When you do distractions for us, getting them isolated is the hard part. We do the dirty work for you. So why is it so hard for you to accept a RangeMan partner?”
“Because I do know how to apprehend my skips! I get them to the station just fine by myself or with Lula!”
“Yeah, after you’ve run three miles, been chased by dogs, or had garbage thrown at you. Finding them is the hard part and you excel at it. Apprehension is easy. Look at Thomas Mann! You found him but he got away clean and you’ve got a fracture and stitches to show for it.”
“Ok, so I got injured. The point is I can do my job. I’m not incompetent! I have an almost perfect capture rate according to Ranger—” Steph is in full rhino mode, but the tears are falling down her cheeks. We’ve said something wrong.
“Wait, who said you were incompetent?” Bobby asks.
Silence, just the sounds of Steph sobbing into a tissue.
“The cops? Your mother? Joe?” Bobby asks, softly. I’m stunned too. She can’t really think she’s incompetent, does she? “All three?”
“The point is, I can do my job—”
“Bomber, are you saying that the reason you won’t work with a RangeMan partner or for RangeMan is because you’re trying to prove you’re not incompetent at the job?”
“There were personal reasons too.” Were personal reasons? Interesting. I catch Lester’s eye and I see that he’ll come back to that.
My turn. Cold hard facts ready for delivery. “Little Girl, here’s the truth. Look at me.” I want her eyes on me so she knows I mean every word I say. “Your mother doesn’t work in fugitive apprehension, so her opinion about your competence means nothing. She can worry about your safety all she likes but she can’t tell you how to do your job. You don’t tell her how to make pineapple upside down cake and she can’t tell you how to cuff a skip. As for the cops, half those jokers have never arrested anyone, so their cuffs are as bright and shiny as the day they were issued.
As for the detectives, they wish they had your skills at following leads and getting people to talk to them. Do you know how good your packet was when we submitted it to Trenton PD when we turned those kids in? You gave TPD and the prosecutor’s office slam-dunk convictions. Everything was documented and organized. You had their motives, their methods, their plans for the stuff, and you led us right to the stolen goods. Little Girl, your work was fucking brilliant and it saved RangeMan.
Out of all the people in the world that Ranger could have asked, he asked you to help us. He didn’t call in one of the guys from another office. He put the best available person on the job and you proved your worth. You justified, again, everything we’ve ever thought or said about you. You are not incompetent and I’ll kick the ass of the next person to suggest otherwise. So if you’ve been refusing our help because you want to prove that you can do the job, let us, me, Les and Bobby, be your guides here. We work in fugitive apprehension and our opinion is that you’re brilliant at the job. We just want to help you get even better.”
Man, I feel tired. That was a lot of words but I couldn’t help it. I move off the chair and pull Steph off Lester’s lap and into mine. I stroke her back while she cries. I think the plan might be shot. After all this time, she’s been hell on wheels because she’s been trying to prove she’s not incompetent? I really want to beat Joe and her mother up but I can’t. I’ll leave that for Ranger.
Steph finally stops sniffling and calms down. Once she gathered herself, she looks at each of us then says, “I get the feeling that you guys are leading up into something big and you’re trying to be careful because you think I won’t like it. I already know you aren’t firing me and you’re making me live at RangeMan, so what’s the deal? What could you possibly have to tell me that’s so bad that you’re tiptoeing around it like this?”
Fuck! How did that turn around so fast? Lester gazes at Steph calmly for a while then squares his shoulders. Bobby and I look at each other. Nothing left to do now but follow Lester’s lead into Plan F, the one we hoped we didn’t need to use. Plan F: State and Explain. Repeat. State and Explain. Lots of talking.
“Alright Steph, we’ll level with you.” Oh god, is Lester really just gonna put it out there? “The fact is that, as much as we want you to come back to RangeMan, you have to come in as a true employee, following employee protocol, rules and directives.” Yes, sweet Jesus, he is. “We’ve already told you how much we want you back and that hasn’t changed, but we haven’t told you why. It’s simple: we want you to come in as head of Bond Enforcement for Trenton and as the new company-wide Director of Client Relations.”
Steph stares at Les then bursts into laughter. For a full minute she’s cracking up then she sobers up and looks dead at me. “Nice. I needed that. What’s the real reason Tank?”
“That was the real reason.”
She stares at me, then Bobby. No joking here; we’re all serious. “Wha-what-Why Me? Oh God, are you kidding? There’s no way I could do that job—”
“Wrong. There’s no way we could continue to allow you to work for anyone but us. Like we just told you, finding skips is the hard part. Apprehension is easier. Steph, your ability to find people who don’t want to be found is unparalleled. There are some huge skips within the company that are outstanding and with your expertise and training, we could use that money to grow the company and to do that, we have to improve our capture rates as a company. We want to bring in our bond enforcement people from all over the company to train with you. Logistically speaking, we’re the most successful Bond enforcement company on the eastern seaboard. The company capture rate ranges between 76% and 93%, the 93% being Trenton of course. And part of that 93% is due solely to you. Whether it’s distractions at a club or the details you pick out in searches, whenever you work for us, the searches you perform have given us a 100% capture rate.”
Steph looks stunned. Damn, I think I see what I need to do here. She doesn’t need us beating up on her. She needs more positive reinforcement and encouragement. Ranger isn’t here to give it to her, so we’ll have to pitch hit.
Bobby has gotten the idea. “We want you as the head of Client Relations for a few reasons. You have the ability to talk to anyone about anything. Ranger and Lester are too handsome and too smooth, which makes men feel competitive, like they need to prove something, and they make women horny. They expect Ranger or Lester to do more personal body guarding services, if you get my drift.”
Whoops, she doesn’t look pleased by that admission, but hell, it’s the truth.
“Yeah, it a hard life but someone’s got to do it.” Les says. Steph laughs and the tension in the moment is broken. “But you know Ranger. He can heat ’em up and scare the shit out of ’em at the same time. All except Brenda, for some strange reason. And I hate when women get handsy with me, unless it’s consensual, and I don’t mix RangeMan business with pleasure. If they never had the expectation that we were going to be guarding them, life would be wonderful.”
“When people see me, a 6 ft. brother with braids, or Tank, a 6 ft. 6in brother who doesn’t smile, they get nervous. Women clutch their purses. Men look for the exit. Even potential clients aren’t sure if we’re going to protect them or rob them.” Bobby says. “You they trust. You can put people at ease, get them to talk about things they don’t want to discuss and charm them. You gotta remember Steph, RangeMan is minority-owned and it’s filled with ex-military, ex-gang bangers and ex-felons. We’re all intimidating as hell, which is another reason we love you.
You’ve always seen us as people, as men, not as scary thugs. We all trust each other and each man in the company knows that without RangeMan he might be living a very different life, but try telling that to a potential client. They know that our reputation says that we’re the best but right now RangeMan Trenton has to repair its reputation and we’re going to have to regain accounts we lost during the break-ins and rebuild a little. Having you in the front, in leadership, liaising with clients will ease that transition.”
Steph raises her hand for a moment and we fall silent, waiting for the question. Lester moves to the kitchen and grabs water for us and another Coke for her. I’m rapidly approaching 36 hours without sleep and we need to get this wrapped up. Ella should arrive in 10 minutes.
Steph looks up and starts to speak but Lester cuts her off. “We don’t need you to give us an answer right now, Beautiful. For the next week, you’re on bed rest and that’s what’s important. So, take the next week and think about it. We don’t want to take away your freedom and, at heart, you’re like Ranger.” Lester grins. “You’re a hunter, an adrenaline junkie. You like the chase, following the lead, being nosy. You’re a great investigator, putting together the clues and solving the puzzle. Why do you think Ranger still spends so much time in the field? He can’t let it go either. That damn paperwork piles up and then we’re all stuck trying to push paper for hours just so we can all stay in the field, so don’t start thinking that this is an attempt to chain you to a desk. It’s not. It’s an offer to make you even better than you are now, to bring you on board, build you up, and really let you shine. And yeah, you aren’t going to like part of it. It will mean range time and exercise and eating healthier but I’ll make you a promise. Listening?”
“Yeah?” She’s wary, waiting for the catch. So am I. Agreements are meant to be between me and her, not him.
“We will modify for you. We’ll find ways to make the requirements work so that you aren’t stuck doing shit you hate. Just as we all enjoy getting down into the gym and practicing, we’ll find some way of making it fun for you. Agreed?” I can live with that, if he can find a wait to help her meet requirements without doing it the prescribed way. Flexibility. We all agreed last night….this morning, that with Steph we might have to be a little more flexible.
“I’ll think on it.” A wary smile from her but we’re getting there and just in time. There’s a knock at the door and Bobby opens it to find Ella standing there, suitcases in hand, ready to pack Steph up for the next 3 months.
“Hi Stephanie! I hear you’re coming to live at Haywood.”
“Yes, I’ve agreed to it, but how did you know?” She’s looking at all of us suspiciously.
“Bobby called about an hour ago to come pack you up. He said you would be staying with us while you recovered.” Thank you Ella, for not giving it away. “Is there anything in particular I need to get dear? I have your toiletries already stocked, so I just need to know what clothing and sundries you want to take.”
I pick Bombshell up and carry her into her bedroom so she and Ella can pack in some privacy. Les and Bobby have already moved to the kitchen so I join them.
Bobby looks at Les. “You’re a fucking genius. I didn’t expect that to go as easily as it did. We accomplished everything on today’s list and with minimal effort and fuss.”
Les shrugs. “It’s not over. The victory was too easy. I don’t think Objective 1 was that hard anyway. The only hard part was going to be getting her to accept that she couldn’t stay here. Once that was done, the real work began.”
“Still, I could pound Morelli and her Mom for making her feel incompetent—”
“Don’t. It would be unjustified.” Bobby is shocked and so am I. Les looks at us and shrugs. “Delayed reaction. I’m where you guys were yesterday. Besides, instead of working with us to get better she continued to do things in the way most likely to get her killed. Ranger doesn’t normally offer to help people, especially those who make it clear they don’t want to be helped, and he was trying his best to serve as her mentor. What I don’t understand is why she wouldn’t accept his help.” Les shakes his head. “And no matter how badly they went about showing it, what Mrs. Plum and Morelli both want is Steph’s safety, same as us. Only they want her to quit and go work at the button factory and we want her to train and get better. Same goal, different methods. So keep that in mind tonight when you go to dinner at Chez Plum.”
Fucker. I ought to make him go.
