Chapter 77: Off With a Warning
Mark’s POV
Stephanie’s just given us the final report and I’m leafing through it. Danny was right; this is comprehensive. She took a look at my building, spoke to my men, and discussed our offerings and their viability with the Core Team. This report indicates we’re doing a good job, business wise, but we could be doing much better. That alone is humbling. This has always been considered the best run branch in the company. Now we’re being told that we’re just OK.
Leadership? Resounding failure.
“I see quite a few problems,” Stephanie says, sipping her water. Pat, Rod and I are all in my office reviewing the final report and I notice that my hands aren’t the only ones shaking. “On the surface, you live up to your reputation as a well-run, organized branch. Below the surface you have major problems.”
Jaws clench. I’m reading the leadership portion of the review. It’s page after page of findings.
“Issue one: Respect for leadership outside RMBoston has eroded. I documented eight different examples that I saw, but this is a huge problem for you. Danny and Jorge added another 15 examples between them. That’s 23 examples of a lack of enthusiasm to follow orders. Your men don’t respect orders given by anyone in a leadership position from outside Boston. How is this a bigger problem in the long run?”
I catch Pat’s eye and he nods. “The new cross-company offering,” he replies. “If our men hesitate to follow an order from someone else, that’s lives at stake.”
She nods. “Also, this is a black-ops company. What if a contract came in that required Ram to lead and two or three of your men to follow him? Can I be certain that my liaison would have the coverage he needs to maintain his sniper position?”
I bite my lip. Shit.
“The men have to accept an order regardless of who it comes from. Regardless of what their reputation is.”
Steph sips her water and sits back. Her eye is twitching, so no matter how calm she seems right now, she’s pissed.
“Here in Boston, the hierarchy is Ranger and Les, Mark, Core Team. Nothing else. Fix that.” She looks at all three of us and we each drop our eyes. Point made.
“Issue Two: Trust within RMBoston is low.”
I look up at this one and she’s looking directly at me. She leans forward and pins me with a glare. I’m looking at Ranger again. I’m convinced that this is his woman. She channels him when pissed.
“I documented four examples but that’s four too many. The worst one I saw involved you.” I’m sure I’m pale. “There is a division between you and your partner. How did that develop and why? He feels left out and ignored. That should never happen. Marcus and Danny talk. Hector and I talk. Junior and Hal talk. Mack and Javi talk. Diego and Mando talk. That’s five sets of people with unequal leadership positions who are partners but they make it work.”
Rod and Pat are looking at me. I’m feeling stunned and caught off guard. Vic doesn’t think I talk to him? Shit . . . she’s right. Since she took over, I’ve slowly but surely cut Vic out. That never should have happened. Vic’s my voice of reason when I’m acting insane. Hell, I’ve been cutting Vic out for a while. I have to mend my relationship with my own partner.
“You don’t have to tell him everything,” she says softly. The eye has stopped twitching. Thank God. “I don’t tell Hector everything”—I snort and she smiles—”which explains your continued presence on earth. And at the moment, there’s a major situation going on that Hector tells me absolutely nothing about.”
“You mean…” I trail off, astonished, and she nods.
“Plausible deniability. If questioned, I know nothing, can tell nothing, and have heard nothing.”
I sit back, stunned, while Rod and Pat look at both of us, wide eyed and curious. I figured she knew Ranger’s movements and what was going on in his op. Shit. She and Hector keep major secrets from each other yet there’s trust between them.
“Issue Three: The support for the men isn’t there.”
OK, we’re gobsmacked by this one and we all lean forward, waiting for her to explain. Again, she smiles at me.
“It’s OK not to be the best at something. It’s OK not to be able to lead the men at something. I can’t lead from the front in most things in this company. What I do, what I see as my primary job, is making things happen. You need money? Let me figure out how to get you money. Men? Supplies?”
She smiles. “It took me a while to see it, but I’m not Ranger. I’m Tank. Because I supply you with what you need, you can take the lead to get the job done. You need to do that for your men. You could be twice your current size and much more profitable, even with the loss of Hospitality, if you cleared the way for your men to lead the way in the ‘active’ stuff. Give them what they need, appoint someone you trust to take charge, and provide support from the back. You don’t always have to lead.”
I sit back and bite my lip. Is this what Ranger would do? I suppose . . . Ranger leads. Les strategizes. Les comes up with the plan, Bobby probes for defects, Ranger executes and Tank pays attention to the details. Doesn’t mean Tank’s not a good leader. I’ve seen Tank lead. When I’m not pissing him off I have to admit that Tank is the right man to get the job done in Ranger’s absence. When Ranger’s on a mission and Tank’s in charge, he leads from the rear and he’s good. I’ve had the support.
Again, the CO is right. Leading from the rear is not the absence of leadership. It’s the presence of support.
“NYC,” Pat mutters, and she nods.
“Exactly. I cleared the way for Javi to get what he needed and left him to do his job.”
And we all know how that worked out. Damn. I guess I need to have quite a few conversations with Vic.
Steph stretches and yawns, then smiles sleepily. “OK, so official verdict?” We lean forward. “Incomplete.” We frown, confused. “If I turn this report in now, as you currently stand, Les will arrive in two days to fire everyone in management since the majority of your problems are leadership-based.”
We pale and sit back. “I don’t think that’s right, so I’m going to tell him that I’m unable to render a decision at the moment. I need time to think about it and I’m going to do a second review. I think you have fixable issues, so I’m going to give you time to fix them while keeping the Leadership Core off your back. It’s August now. I’ll be back before Christmas for another review. Get your issues straight and I’ll pass you.”
We nod. The bar has been set. We know what we need to do. I look at Pat and Rod and their faces are set in resolve.
Boston has major work ahead.
The men asked to meet with the CO in Conference 1 before she left. I’m wondering what’s up.
Victor grins. “We hear the Trenton branch has a particular issue with swag.” The men in the front row all beginning pulling bags from behind chairs.
Danny bites his fist and turns, shoulders shaking. Stephanie starts laughing.
“Well, here in Boston, we lead the company, regardless of what the babies think. So if the CO needs swag, we will swag her out.”
“HUA!“
Danny’s collapsed in a chair. Jorge is shaking his head. Stephanie is leaning against me, laughing. I’m still confused.
“I’ll tell you, CO, those Trenton men are the biggest bunch of liahs we’ve ever encountered,” Mike says. “Zip had the nerve to tell me that you weren’t that fond of swag. That you preferred to stay company-neutral and wear basic black.”
Steph laughs even harder. Jorge and Danny have tears running down their cheeks.
“Then I talked to Mack,” Victor says. “What do I learn? Not only are you a fan of swag, but if we let you leave here without it, we’d be the only location so far not to swag you out.” He grins and winks at me. “So of course, swag you out we must.”
I start smiling. Ah … OK. Shit. Had no idea about the swag issue. And it’s a way to stick one to Hal? I’m onboard. Thanks Vic, for having my back.
“So, since Trenton won’t be able to see you live in the swag, you mind getting swagged out and letting us send them the pics?” I ask. “Hal needs to understand that he’s not going to win here.”
Stephanie stands and looks at the clothing and accessories. “Hal’s never going to forgive me this one.” She disappears.
Danny looks at my men. “Don’t plan any trips to Trenton for at least two years. Hal and the Trenton Men will not forgive that anytime soon.”
“What’s the worst he could do?” Victor scoffs.
Danny and Jorge look at each other and collapse in hysterical laughter. Each time they calm they look at each other and start laughing all over again. I’m getting the feeling that Hal is creative with his punishments.
Danny stands and wipes his eyes. “Never ask that question about the Trenton XO.”
Stephanie returns swagged out head to toe. Hat, sunglasses, shirt, pants, she even has RMBoston shoelaces. Chas grins. “Wicked awesome! CO’s Bahsten now. She’s not one of them damn foreignas!” The entire branch laughs and she twirls around for the men, smiling. We take pictures and I send my shots to Hal immediately. Minutes later, Danny’s phone rings. He looks and groans.
“Yo!” He puts the phone on speaker. Stephanie is shaking her head.
Heavy breathing. “She’s not in RMBoston swag is she? Please tell me that’s not what I’m looking at.”
“Have you ever been successful in telling a woman what to wear? And if your answer is yes, I want your secret.”
Heavy breathing. “My men are furious. Tell Mark the retribution is coming. His branch should prepare.”
“Bring it on, Hal,” I yell. My men start yelling behind me, excited to stick one to the branch that supplanted us at the top. Danny is listening to the phone and shaking his head. Jorge is taking pics of the crowd. My men die down and we wait for the response.
“Game on.” Click.
Jorge, Danny, and Stephanie all start laughing. Finally, Stephanie nods at Danny and Danny tells the story of RMTrenton’s payback for Atlanta’s swag.
My ass tingles. Hal is a sneaky bastard. Jorge follows up with NYC’s punishment. That caused widespread laughter.
“Shit! Mack’s just as sneaky as the Trenton men. That bastard set us up,” Vic exclaims.
Jorge and Steph nod. “And you walked right into the trap. Now Atlanta and NYC will be watching to see how Trenton pays you back,” Danny says, smiling.
“And believe me,” Jorge says, grinning, “we can’t wait!”
I’m noticing the XO is always part of the punishment. I can’t take more punishment from Hal. I think Vic and Mike can handle this alone. I’m going to lead from behind on this one.
Steph raises her hands for silence. Every man stands at parade rest, waiting to hear her words.
“There is something serious I want to address before I leave. Please sit.”
Everyone finds a seat. I look over at Pat and Rod. Curveball. We’re scared shitless. Danny and Jorge have their blank faces on.
“I think it’s been made clear how much I hate gossip in this company. You have no idea how much.” Steph is silent for a moment before looking back at us, and there are tears in her eyes but they don’t fall. I know that whatever she’s about to say, I’m going to feel like crap.
“You investigated my background when I first took over as CO. I don’t blame you. You were curious. I asked Vic to pull up the newspaper articles about me that you found.” She motions for her messenger bags and Danny passes it to her. She removes a folder full of newspaper articles.
“Not bad. You did the research. I have to commend you. However, you missed something important.” She stands and looks at all of us. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. “Each of these bylines is by the same person, Alan Watkins of the Trenton Gazette. He’s not a bad man. He’s a good reporter unless he’s reporting on me. You see, if you knew Trenton, if you knew New Jersey, then you’d know that feuds die hard. They’re inherited. It never ends. Feuds in New Jersey make the Hatfields and McCoys look like a minor disagreement.
What you don’t know, didn’t know, about Alan Watkins is that he was screwing my childhood enemy and has been for years. He had a reason to make these stories sound as horrible as possible. After all, what would you do for the woman screwing you on a regular basis?”
I look around. Every man is red-faced.
“So all the stories you ever read about me came from a biased source with a reason to make them sound as bad as possible. That’s why Trenton ignored them. They saw what really happened and they knew when I was really at fault and when I wasn’t. For example, my most famous incident reads:
‘Ms. Plum has been identified as the perpetrator in the arson and explosion at Stiva’s Funeral Home. According to witnesses, Ms. Plum recklessly discharged her weapon into a basement containing approximately ten boxes of stored ammunition.’
Steph looks up at us. Every man has slid his blank face into place.
“Now, if you knew the whole story, you’d know this was a lie. My grandmother shot the ammunition while we were trying to escape and there was an entire basement full of the stuff. Not a few boxes, but a serious amount of explosives. Enough to level Trenton, really, but instead the only real loss was the funeral home. Quite frankly, I don’t blame her. We’d just rescued her from a mortuary drawer and she was really angry.”
The men’s mouths drop, as does mine. Holy hell. That story was definitely missing some pieces. Shit, I don’t blame Granny.
“The witnesses he’s quoting are the cops who initially responded to the scene who were trying to get basic information as the first responders. As the detectives showed up and really began working the case, the details emerged and I was cleared. But there aren’t any news articles to clear me, are there? I didn’t have a libel case because he was reporting the facts at the time and he had a deadline to meet. That was his excuse anyway. But that’s not the same as the truth, is it?”
Heads shake. Men are solemn. Steph tucks the article back into the folder and holds it out to Victor.
“That’s why I hate gossip. That’s why I believe in getting things corroborated. The Trenton Men pick at my reliance on the Burg gossip chain, but it’s so accurate they’ve renamed it the ‘Burg female intel network’.” There are a few snickers in the room and Steph smiles. “Yeah, it makes them feel better. They aren’t a part of the women’s gossip chain. They’re tapping a ‘female intel network’.”
Open laughter at that. We agree.
“You men made assumptions about me before I even set foot here. The assumptions were unfair and prevented you from being presented opportunities and positions I’ve had available because I needed to meet all of you first. I needed to know I wasn’t giving an opportunity to someone who secretly despised me. That would make you no better than Alan Watkins, using me for your advantage.” She’s quiet for a moment, looking at everyone. “What makes this entire situation insane is this: what is RangeMan’s strength? The one thing every RangeMan is supposed to rely on?”
We’re quiet. Mike finally mutters, “Our brotherhood.”
“Exactly,” Steph answers quietly. “RangeMan is known for the brotherhood among the men, but you didn’t trust the Trenton men to give you the truth about me. You didn’t trust your Trenton brothers to tell you what they knew about the new CO.”
Yup. Complete and utter shit. That’s how I feel right now. That’s clearly how every man feels right now.
“Mark has the results of your review. You have a few long months ahead of you to bring this branch up to where you could be. Understood?”
Men swallow hard. Everyone understands: We failed.
Steph smiles. “I hate to end on a down note, so any questions?”
Everyone is silent. Finally, Vic steps forward. “The childhood enemy,” he begins coldly. “What happened to her?”
Steph grins big. “I think I’ll allow Danny to tell you.” She exits the room and Danny, grinning big, tells us a fantastic story about leaving this woman in the middle of the New Jersey woods and Hal removing her SUV engine.
Every man in Boston is afraid. The CO and the Trenton XO are sneaky people with long, unforgiving memories.
Steph’s POV
Finally! On to the land of arrogant assholes. I have a non-stop flight to Miami and the new noise-cancelling headphones from Junior are really making a difference. I put on Metallica and took the pill Zero gave me and I was mellow all the way there.
I wonder what’s in that pill.
Diego is picking me up from the airport. My arrival into Miami is to remain a secret to everyone involved. Hector said our last unscheduled and unannounced arrival caused panic. Good. Let’s do that again. Hal and Pat will arrive in two days. Hector said he needed to follow up on something in Atlanta and Hector Manuel’s birthday is next week, so Hector will arrive later. Until then I’m to stay out of trouble.
I stuck my tongue out at him when he told me that, before I left Trenton, and he twirled me around, grinning.
“I know, Angelita, but remember: we’re on high alert right now. Ranger thinks he’s close to figuring it out and we know Manny has a new dangerous enemy. That makes you a target.”
I know but still. I don’t go looking for trouble. I exit the plane and walk to baggage claim.
“Ms. Plum?”
Two men, dark suits, dark sunglasses, close cropped hair. I look at them. They flip their badges.
“Ms. Plum, I’m Special Agent Juan Diaz. This is Special Agent Alex West. We’ll need you to come with us.”
Hello Trouble. Nice of you to join me in Miami.
I shake my head. “Nope. You need to talk to me? Make an appointment with my lawyer.”
“Ms. Plum, this is not a request. It’s an order.”
I turn around, furious. “And if you know anything about me, you know I don’t respond to orders. Are you arresting me?” Their jaws tighten. “Then you’ll wait for my lawyer. Otherwise, arrest me and you better have a damn good reason.”
Diego shows up at that very moment. “Ms. Plum, is there a problem here?”
“I don’t know.” I turn back to the agents. “Is there?”
They look at me, then Diego. “We’ll see you at RangeMan very soon, Ms. Plum.”
“Fine. Make an appointment. My lawyers and I will be happy to see you.”
I turn back around and lunge for my suitcase, hauling it off the carousel. Diego helps and we exit the airport. I’m surprised to see the SUV isn’t outside.
“What happened?” I ask.
He smiles faintly. “I’ve been brought in, since I’m acting XO and you’re in house now. Sixth sense said to walk in and meet you. Sorry I was late.”
I exhale and smile. “No, it’s fine. I’m glad you know. Anyone else in Miami know?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.” He gives me a small smile. “The men are learning to stay out of my hearing with complaints and bullshit. We instituted manual labor as a low-level punishment.” I laugh. “Yeah. Maria and Rafe have been enjoying themselves. Rafe’s caught up on almost the entire futból season and Maria is tearing up the dance floor.”
“Great! I’m glad to hear it.”
“I hear you love to dance?” I nod. “We’re taking Maria out tonight. Wanna come?” I nod eagerly.
So far, Miami leadership is doing well.
Diego and I arrive at RangeMan Miami and, while he takes my bags up to Ranger’s apartment, I walk onto the fifth floor and look around.
It’s silent the moment I hit the floor. Every man turns around in shock and I’m examining the workstations and the men. I see unauthorized drink containers, food, headphones, and cell phones at stations. The only thing I can ding them on are the drinks. That’s the only thing in violation of the SOPs. So far, not bad.
One RangeMan approaches me. “Ms. Plum?”
I smile. “Yes?”
“Hello.” He smiles charmingly. “I’m Antonio. Welcome to RangeMan Miami.”
Oh, so you’re Antonio. I take a moment to size him up. 5’11”, brown hair, brown eyes. Ricky Martin, complete with the gorgeously white smile and dimples. How did Armando end up looking like Gomez Addams? I mean, Mando’s not bad looking but if he were standing next to his cousin, you’d think he just got screwed in the looks department.
Too bad all intel says Antonio’s an asshole. He’s fucking gorgeous.
I nod at him, still looking around. “Thank you, Antonio. I’m looking for Thomas.”
“He’s in his office. Would you like me to escort you there?”
“Nope. I’ll find it.” I step around him and keep looking. I see cameras turned in my direction and I give them a finger wave.
His smile dims slightly. “Really, it’s no trouble.”
I turn back around. “I’m glad. It’s still not necessary. I’ll find his office. Thank you.”
He nods slightly, still smiling, and backs up. Thomas comes out of his office at that moment. “Steph!”
I grin. “Hey! Liaison call?”
“Yup.” Thomas hugs me and we bump fists.
“How was it?”
“Eh. Rod’s on his way back to Charlotte. Boston is tight-lipped about their results. Our review starts . . . ” He grins, already knowing the answer.
“Started 15 minutes ago. Already have some findings and I’m having fun. By the way, are all the cameras supposed to be turned in my direction?”
Thomas smiles. I watch as the camera behind his head moves back into what I assume is its normal direction.
“Our review started already?” Antonio blurts out. Every man in Miami looks stunned. “You’re supposed to give us notice!”
“Says who?” I ask, still smiling.
“That’s how these things are done,” he says, looking at me closely. “That’s how we understand these reviews are supposed to be done. You give us advance notice that you’re coming so we can prepare. Then we show you how our branch is run.”
“Says who?” The floor is silent. I step from around him and move to where all the men can see me. “I run my reviews as I see fit. The review has started.” I smile and look at Thomas. “You guys ready?”
He grins. “Can’t wait.”
This time I begin by reviewing the building. RangeMan Miami is a great office. There’s plenty of space, the men have plenty of room and I don’t see anything that makes me question how Armando has run this building.
I’m shadowed by a RangeMan the entire time. Not the same RangeMan; each time I move, another RangeMan just happens to cross my path. They make it seem totally innocent and random, but they’re following me.
They’re also annoyed by my notepad. It says, ‘None of your business. Get back to work.’
I stop at random intervals to make notes and write down suggestions. With the exception of the nosy men, the building looks good. There’s plenty of space and the men aren’t bunched up.
My arrival in Accounting causes panic. Hector gave me my code to enter the area, and when I walk in, everyone stands and peeps around their doors. They relax when they see me then tense again. I wave.
“Hi! Is Ryan here?”
Ryan pops his head out of the door. “Stephanie!” he exclaims, walking to me. “Good to see you.”
Ryan does not look like your typical RangeMan. He’s at least 45, pale, and has a moustache. He’s pale because he says he burns in the sun, and he’s balding. He also uses pocket protectors and always has at least three pens in his shirt pocket. Ryan looks like a nerd. Actually, he reminds me of a fitter version of my brother-in-law.
Looks are deceiving. Thomas reminded me that the men had recently been reminded that Ryan is no slouch on the mats and he’s serious about keeping his job and men. Intellectually, Ryan knows accounting and tax law like a pro. He’s a former tax accountant who got fed up in his job and wanted something with more excitement and danger. RangeMan was perfect.
Florida law states that only licensed bail bondsmen can apprehend their FTAs and that, if you are apprehending in Florida, you must be a bail agent. So, in order to continue the Miami branch, the guys actually had to become bail bondsmen when the laws changed. That’s also how they operate in similar states where the law requires you to be a bail bondsman in order to apprehend, and it actually makes life a lot easier for the guys.
Ranger, Tank, Lester, and Bobby are all licensed bail agents and the Miami branch operates under Ranger’s and Armando’s licenses, since they are the Florida residents. Somehow, in the middle of everything the guys have done, they’ve each been able to continue their licenses, although Ranger came close to missing the deadline to renew his once. That’s when the decision was made to license all the guys, not just Ranger, so they would have an option in case Ranger was stuck overseas.
Each XO is also required to maintain his license in good standing, as each XO is a resident of the state his branch is in. So that’s another thing Hal has to manage on the HR level. I was stunned by the amount of paperwork that the bail bonds business generates. It’s really insane but it also explains why Tank bought two failing bail bonds companies. It gave him a leg up in Texas, where fugitive apprehension is huge. The previous owners are staying on as RangeMan employees until Tank gets his Texas license, then the guys will pay them their final payout and own the companies outright.
So RangeMan is not only a black-ops company, we’re a classy version of Vinnie. To me, that’s hilarious. Ranger said he was sexually sick. He and Vinnie have a lot more in common than they thought.
Anyway, Ryan loves his job. He maintains the books for this branch, the bail bonds business, and the company. Lots of numbers. He’s the world’s happiest man. It also explains why Miami had the second highest FTA recovery rate in the company until recently. That’s Ranger’s money (well, Leadership Core’s money). The guys are determined to make sure it gets paid.
The booming bail business is the reason why Miami is the fanciest office in the company. The guys take excellent collateral in exchange for their bonds, so they keep the property, boats, and cars when a bond runs. They cash out the jewelry, furs, and other minor stuff. Before she retired to stay home and raise their children, Mariela Cortes worked as RangeMan’s exclusive seller’s agent to unload extra real estate and adequately price the jewelry and furs. Ryan explained that the boats were kept because Miami floods a lot. Literally every summer, and one of the ways RM-Miami has cemented its reputation is by being able to respond to trouble calls on flooded streets in their boats.
That was one of Armando’s early ideas and it grew the monitoring contracts by 50% each year his first three years in charge. That’s why the guys placed him in charge of Miami, according to Lester. Armando was creative, had a good understanding of people and the culture, but he wasn’t married to it. He understands Miami in a way Mark didn’t.
Now that I know this, I’m even more pissed that he allowed himself to be run into the ground and I’m pissed the men drove him crazy.
Thomas and I walk the seven public floors quietly. I’m really not taking notes today. I want to see how the men respond to me being here. Without exception, I’m being watched carefully. I see cameras being turned in my direction and if I stop to look at something, I know they’re zooming in.
And I thought Ranger was a control freak. Jeez.
Ring.
“Yo!”
“Steph?”
“Yeah? What’s up, Diego?”
“FBI is here to see you.”
“They don’t have an appointment.”
“True. They’re pushing it but I think you might want to give a little. Next stop is downtown and they’ll be really nasty if they have to haul you in. Right now, you still run the show.”
I sigh. “OK, headed down. Put them in a conference room.”
“10-4.” Click.
I look at Thomas. “Seems the FBI would like to talk to me?”
He grins. “I think we can hustle and get you some bail money if you need it.”
I laugh and head to the 4th floor.
“Ms. Plum, we’re here to officially inquire as to the whereabouts of Carlos Mañoso.”
I’m in a conference room with Agent Diaz, Agent West, the RangeMan lawyer and Diego. I took my time getting to the conference room, so they’ve been waiting for 15 minutes. They’re annoyed. Diego is hiding a smile. Griswold, the lawyer, looks amused.
“Then this will be a short meeting. I don’t know, I know he’s overseas, and that’s all the information I have. Goodbye.” I stand to leave.
“Ms. Plum, our information says Mr. Mañoso is currently operating within the United States.”
I shake my head. “Then your information is wrong. I haven’t seen him since …” I stop to think. When did I break my leg? “March? Yeah. I think March.”
They look at each other. Some signal passes because the other asks, “And Mr. Morelli?”
“March.” With that, I leave and walk to the office where Thomas is located. Thomas smiles faintly.
“Good job. You’re the kind of witness cops hate.” I look at him. “You made it clear that the interrogation would be on your turf, you gave them nothing, and you walked out before they were done.”
I smile. “And?”
“They’re pissed. Extremely. You gave them nothing.” Thomas turns the volume up. They’re questioning Diego now and he’s cold.
“I do not involve myself with the CEO’s extra-military assignments.”
“Was that a good idea?” I whisper to Thomas.
He nods. “Military is close lipped. They’ll get nothing in that direction.”
“Mr. Garcia, you are military and our information says that you are the person authorized to receive information about –”
Diego and Griswold both start laughing. The agents’ jaws are clenching.
“That very statement shows that this is a fishing expedition. We’re done here,” Diego says. He stands and walks out. The lawyer, Lance Griswold, smiles coldly.
“My clients all maintain that the CEO of RangeMan, LLC is on assignment for our nation’s military. Furthermore, we are not amused by your agency’s repeated harassment of Ms. Plum. If you have anything to say to her or additional questions to ask, direct them to me.” He passes his card over. “I am invoking Ms. Plum’s rights. She will not speak to you without my presence or the presence of someone from my firm under my direction. Good day, gentlemen.”
The agents step out and walk right into a RangeMan guard. The men shadow them all the way back down to the entrance. Every step they took, every surface they might have touched, is checked for bugs. None. Thomas and I walk into the conference room and sit. Diego and Griswold return.
“What do I need to know?” I ask.
Diego snorts. “Don’t go anywhere, and I do mean, anywhere, alone for the time being, Steph. They actually came to RangeMan. I’d say the threat is at a nuclear level.”
Griswold leans forward. “Ms. Plum, I cannot overemphasize how important it is that you do not allow yourself to be separated from your RangeMan employees. The FBI is normally reticent to come to our offices without a warrant unless they are here by invitation. The fact that two employees actually showed up, on a fishing expedition no less, means that the threat is high and they don’t have the information they need or cannot find it. They’re desperate. More . . .”—he looks at Diego and Thomas—”desperate measures may be taken.”
I sigh. “You mean kidnapping?” Everyone nods. “Great. So what else is new?”
I head up to 8, ready to get ready to go dancing. Now that I think of it, I haven’t seen Maria all day.
I open the door and she’s there, in the kitchen, making my dinner. I love Maria.
I walk over and stand next to her. She looks, jumps, then grins. “Stephanie!” She takes the headphones off and gives me a big hug. “How are you?”
“I’m great! How are you?” She doesn’t even need to answer that. Maria looks fantastic. She looks as if she’s gotten some sleep, a massage, and been pampered lately. She looks like a new woman.
“I’m having a fabulous day.”
“You look it. The men are treating you right?”
“Are you kidding me? I had to send Rose a thank you card.” She giggles and quickly plates my dinner. I motion for her to join me and she puts the other half on a plate. I grab the silverware and she grabs the drinks. She’s still talking, giddy. “She told them that her superpower was that she could poison them anytime, anyplace.” My mouth drops and she grins and nods. “Yup! So now the men are extra careful when speaking to me. They ask me for assistance. Lucia kicked one in the knee in Costco and embarrassed him, so when we go shopping, they follow my orders without complaint.”
I’m stunned and wide-eyed. The housekeepers are ninjas!
Maria says grace quickly and we dig in. “Susan ruined their meals, so they eat whatever I cook. Now that most of them are losing weight rapidly, no one has a complaint. No one says a word to me. They recognize my power and they also recognize that I’ve been very good to them.” She laughs. “They also recognize that this Maria is not taking their bullshit anymore.”
I stand and clap. Maria grins and gives a quick curtsy.
“So you think you’ll stay or do you want to go back to Texas?” I smile. “Tank misses you and so does Lula. She really misses you.”
Maria laughs. “I miss her. Lula is a sweet girl and she’s really in love with Tank. It’s sweet to watch.” She sighs. “I don’t know. On one hand, I love the way I was treated in Texas. I was never disrespected and my opinions and thoughts mattered. The boys have been contacting me every other day to beg me to come home.” We both laugh. “Yes, they told me Miami is not my home. Texas is and they want me back. They send flowers every week.” I grin, thrilled for her. “Rafe gets messages from them too. They’re on a campaign to woo us home.”
I’m shaking my head, happy for them. Les says the San Antonio men like the couple that’s been hired, but they love Maria and Rafe.
“On the other hand, Miami is home and it’s nice to see the boys making changes.” She sits back in her chair and finishes her dessert. “I’m not sure . . . “
I smile. “Don’t feel pressured to make a decision. Ella and I will stand behind you wherever you decide to go.” I’m hoping she chooses Texas. Clearly those men love her and will never mistreat her.
She smiles. “Thank you, Stephanie.” We finish the meal in silence (Maria’s such a great cook!) and finish our water.
“I went shopping for Miami club attire for you.” I raise an eyebrow and she smiles. “Nope.” Damn. Will I ever figure it out? “You’ll need slightly more dressy outfits than the ones I saw in Trenton, so I picked some appropriate clothes and shoes. We’re headed to a salsa club tonight and I’m wearing red and some high heels”–she grins–”so be prepared to be ignored all night.” She shakes her hips and I sit back in the chair and laugh.
“As the boys say, Mamí’s still got it!”
Thirty minutes later, I was wondering if Maria had lost it.
“Maria, there’s no way I’m fitting into that dress.”
Maria had purchased a strapless bandage dress. I wish I hadn’t looked at the size because the dress was gorgeous. It was shimmering purple fabric with a sweetheart neckline on top and a black skirt which will probably end mid-thigh if I’m lucky. It’s gorgeous.
It was also a size 4. I haven’t been a size 4 in years.
Maria looks at me critically. “It will fit. I’m never wrong about dresses. Go put it on. Then we’ll see.”
I slip into the bathroom and slip into the dress. I can’t zip it all the way but the fact that I got it half zipped shocks me. I didn’t think I’d lost that much weight but maybe I have. I walk out and Maria beams.
“Ha! I told you I know dresses. Here, let me zip you then I’ll bring you the shoes.”
She zips me and I have to suck in a little but once she pats my back, I walk over to the mirror and gape. Wow . . . and the guys thought the sexy NYC number was something! This will definitely turn heads. Maria hands me the shoes and I’m stunned. Jimmy Choos. Fedora in plum. Holy Shit!
I slip into the shoes and look at myself in the mirror.
“You have to take a picture and send it to Ella.”
She picks up my phone and takes multiple shots of my outfit. I send one to Tank and ask him to send it on then send the rest to Ella and Hector.
Ringgggg!
“Yo!”
“Yo! You have to wear that outfit again when we go dancing.”
I laugh. “Ram, translate this for Hector: where are you going to take me that’s appropriate for this dress, Hector?” Ram’s not on the line but I’m not giving away Hector’s secret.
“Good job and I’ll figure something out.” Click. Maria is laughing and I grin.
Ringgggg!
“Yo!”
“Yo! That’s just cruel.”
“What’s cruel?”
“Sending pictures of you looking so hot, Beautiful.”
“How did you get Tank’s phone?”
“We didn’t. Tank’s in Charlotte, remember? He forwarded it to us. Why didn’t you send it to me, Beautiful? I’m hurt.”
I laugh. “Sorry. I sent it to Tank for obvious reasons.”
Les sighs. “Fine. Forgiven.” I hear Bobby speak and start laughing in the background. “Bobby wants to know if that dress comes in a distraction version.”
I look at myself in the mirror. “If this dress were any shorter it would be a tube top.”
I hear Bobby laugh and yell, “It is a tube top, Bomber!” The phone beeps.
“Gotta switch over guys. It’s Tank.”
“Lula’s gonna be pissed at you! I bet you got Tank hot,” Les says, and they disconnect, in stitches. I switch over, shaking my head.
“Little Girl?”
“Yeah?”
“You alone?”
“Maria’s here.”
“Two minutes.” Click.
I stare at my phone in confusion then turn to Maria. “Can I have some privacy?
She grins. “Absolutely.” She saunters out of the door whistling. I wait.
Ringgggg!
“Yo!”
“Babe.” The voice is awed.
“You like the dress?” I’m posing in front of the mirror, smiling.
“Babe, I’m naked in the bathtub loving the dress.”
A reminder that I still can’t play in Ranger’s league. I quickly search for a cookie, doughnut, candy, cough drop, anything to get that image out of my head. I hear water splashing in the background and I want to know what Ranger’s doing. Then again, I think I have a good guess.
“Don’t,” I whine. I need to change thongs. I’ve soaked this one already.
“Can’t help it. You shouldn’t tease me like that.” I can’t help but grin and I hear Ranger groan. “You look beautiful, Babe. Headed to the clubs?”
“Yeah.”
“Have fun. Be safe.”
“I will. Oh! I need to tell you something. Got a minute?”
“Go ahead.”
“Two FBI agents came to RangeMan today to question me.”
It’s quiet on the phone. “Tell me the entire story, Babe.”
I tell him about meeting them in the airport then their appearance at the office. I also tell him all the warnings I’d already gotten from the guys, to head off the lecture.
Ranger chuckles. “I wasn’t going to lecture you. You already gave me your word. You’ve never broken it. I’m not worried.”
I smile. That’s probably the best thing Ranger’s said all night.
A/N: So . . . we’re finally in Miami! Gorge time! I’m estimating a story every other day starting next week and keep an eye on the side stories. I’ll give you a better estimate Friday.
