Ok... so I don't often do the fanfic thing... mostly my own original work. So I'm having a hard time keeping totally with the character,s but hoping to improve.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor hold any claim to, the characters, Trenton, etc. They fully belong to Janet evanovich... EXCEPT for Windy and any/all horses. Those are entirely mine and I'm not sharing:) :)

There are some things a girl needs to do, and some things she really should not do but cannoth elp herself. Probably sitting across the table from Ranger at Pino's, despite the fact that I'm practically engaged to Morelli - at least for today - falls into the latter category.

"So." Ranger said. Ranger is a man of many words. Usually monosyllabic.

"So."

"You wanted to talk?"

Probably I should kick his smartass self in the knee underneath the table, but I have a rather large problem right now, so I settled with a simple "Yeah."

I work for Vincent Plum Bail Bond Agency catching scum who've gone FTA. That means, too scummy to bother appearing for their court date. Sometimes Ranger takes cases, but only high profile. Basically, that means when I'm in over my head. Admittedly, that's 99 of the time (only exception: Mooner. He's easy). Unfortunately, Ranger was in the wind - well, Miami visiting Julie - when a very high profile case went FTA, and so I, BEA-disaster extra-ordinaire and Ranger's comic relief, got in over my head. Again.

"Johnny Carson." I said. Ranger quirked a brow. "Rape, torture, mutilation, murder."

"Can't believe Vinnie bonded him out."

"Yeah." I said. I figured maybe Vinnie did it so that I'd wind up dead, but then he'd have no one to catch his skips and he'd go bankrupt, so that didn't really make financial sense.

"So you're after him."

"Yep."

"What do you know?"

"Nothing. He works the racetrack. I can't get to the racetrack. Security is tighter than at Rangeman."

"Expensive horses, babe."

"No Shit. I found a reference to someone named Windy, but can't find her, or anything about her."

"Wendy have a last name?"

"Ranger have a last name?" I asked sarcastically.

"Babe."

"Yeah Yeah, no last name. No real name that I can find. She's, like..." I paused, searching for the word. Unable to come up with the one I wanted, I finally settled for "you."

Ranger quirked a brow. "Wendy's a real name." Again. I'm thinking he could use a good kick. The man's sense of humor has really bad timing.

"WINDY. She suits her name. She is the wind. No name, no records, no history. And nobody in Carson's neighbourhood knows her." I took another bite of pizza.

"Carson?"

"MIA but he's been said to still be training the horses."

"Maybe from a distance."

"Maybe."

"Anyone in contact with him is suspect. I'll help you."

"Appreciate it. I don't care to be mangled Carson soup."

"Babe." Ranger had his "don't even joke about that" face on. Oh well, at least he was willing to help. Probably he'd rather I be out of the Carson-picture unequivocally, letting him take over, but now my curious bone is completely involved.

We continued to eat in relative silence, when a fairly rowdy crowd banged through the door. Friday night at Pino's, hurrah. Thankfully, Morelli was not part of it. Also interestingly was the fact that I noticed a face I recognized from my attempts to get in at the racetrack. Instantly, I was on curious alert. Ranger eyed me. The group sat down at a table a couple across from us, and proceeded to chat up a storm.

Ranger and I listened for a while. "Win party." he commented quietly. I looked at him, wondering what on earth that was supposed to mean. "Means that barn's horse probably won one of the bigger stakes races this evening." Yep, ESP-man did it again.

We listened for a while longer, and I noticed that one woman, a short, tiny woman with a pretty face and straight hair that hung past her shoulders kept looking over at us, an expression of mild confusion on her face. She was eyeing Ranger, but I supposed I could let it go as she seemed to not be eyeing him in lust.

"That woman over there looks like she knows you." I commented to Ranger.

"Don't know her."

A middle-aged man, he looked to be about 40 or 45, ordered everyone a round of drinks. The only one who refused was the woman. She was quieter than the rest, milder in demeanor.

"Ah, C'mon. Celebrate with us. You're half the reason Terminator won."

"And I'm the half that has to do more tomorrow morning than stand at the gap and bark orders." The woman retorted, sending the group into laughter.

"Touche." The man laughed. Their food came and they ate, Ranger and I still sitting in silence. Ranger had eaten a couple slices of Pizza. Ranger didn't eat more garbage than that. I was finishing the pizza off as we listened. I kept my eye on the woman, watched her, as she continued to dart glances Ranger's way. She ate a couple of slices, picked half the stuff off them and ignored the crust, and hung around, mostly silent but obviously relatively content.

"Hey, Windy, how's that arm holding up?" i started suddenly. THAT was Windy? I looked at Ranger, wide-eyed. He stepped on my foot, warning me to stay seated.

"It's holding."

"Woman of few words, just like you." I quirked my own brow at Ranger, who looked at me like I was mad. "What? She keeps looking over at you, as if she knows you, she has your ability to hide herself, your eating habits..." I looked pointed at Ranger's plate. Well, ok, he'd eaten the first crust.

I was just getting up to go confront her - not just because she was Windy, and I'd been looking for her, but also because she obviously knew Ranger, or thought she did, and Ranger wasn't forthcoming with information - not that Ranger ever is - so I wanted to find out the scoop from her. Yep, nosy. But before I could, my best friend Mary Lou stopped by my table and just HAD to chat.

Then, when I turned to get up again, Ranger stilled me with one hand. The woman called Windy was just getting up and leaving. Claiming that morning was coming too soon, or something, she took turns around the table and headed to leave. Just as she was heading out, some of the Newark men came in, the rough and tumble guys who never really grew into good citizens. The ones who didn't turn out as well as Ranger.

"Well Well" One of them sneered. "If it isn't little Emily Halloran all grown up."

Ranger's body tensed instantly.

The woman kept going, and the guy grabbed her arm and turned her back. "Emily Emily Emily. Thought you'd disappeared, if you know what I mean." There was menace in that tone. I looked at Ranger worriedly. No need for my only lead to be offed before I could even talk to her, right?

The woman, face impassive, twisted her arm away from the guy. "You must be mistaken. I do not know anyone by the name of Emily." She turned and walked out the door. The guys headed to a table, joking raucously about what they wanted to do to the "babe" who wasn't Emily.

Ranger dragged me up from the table, dropped a twenty to cover the pizza - and then some, and hauled ass out of the building.

"You know an Emily Halloran." I commented, as we reached my car.

"Yes."

I waited. Surely he'd tell me more? Nope, apparently not. Ranger doesn't know the meaning of the word share.

"Who is she?"

"I don't know who that woman is. Slight resemblance to Emily, but obviously not. Emily was someone I grew up with. Someone I protected. Have not seen her since she was twelve."

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen. Last time I saw her was about five minutes before being arrested for stealing the car."

I could tell by Ranger's tone that that was the end of the discussion, so I squeezed his hand and got ready to get into my car. Before I could, he yanked me to him and kissed me - no tongue out of deference to the almost-engagement and our public location - and pushed me down into the seat. "We'll go down to the track tomorrow. Track down that woman. Talk to her about Carson."

"Maybe she is Emily." I suggested hopefully.

"Doubtful." Ranger replied, shutting the door. I detected a slightly wistful tone to his voice. He must have cared for her a great deal, I thought, as I drove out of the parking lot and headed back to my apartment. When I got home, I noticed Ranger's porsche hanging back. Obviously he was still into making sure I made it into my apartment in one piece. I locked the little Neon I was driving, and then turned to wave at the porsche as I entered the building. It peeled off and I tiredly headed upstairs. Mrs. Bestler wasn't in the elevator tonight, so it was a silent ride up to my apartment. The apartment was silent too. My only full-time Roomate is Rex, my hamster. Occasionally we share with Morelli and Bob. Occasionally I go visit Morelli and Bob at their own digs, a nice little house on the edge of the Burg. I checked my messages - only one from Morelli saying he was working late and wouldn't be able to stop by - and dropped a nut in Rex's cage before heading off to bed. Early morning was coming entirely too soon.

I awakened to the sound of my phone. I was momentarily tempted to ignore it, but better judgement prevailed. Didn't need Morelli or Ranger busting over here thinking I wa dead, or something. Groping blindly for the phone, I mumbled a sleepy, and marginally grumpy, hello.

"Babe."

"It's the middle of the NIGHT." I whined.

Ranger chuckled. "I have to head out of town for a few days again. Don't investigate Carson without me. We'll go to the track when I get back."

"Don't investigate at all?" Oooh, Vinnie's gonna be mad...

"Keep your ears and eyes open. You can use Rangeman's computers to run checks. Do some preliminary sleuthing but do not go out investigating until i get back. I'll phone Vinnie in the morning and apprise him."

"Where're you going?"

"Boston. Flight leaves in 20."

"Problems at Rangeman?"

Ranger was silent. I took that as a yes.

"Be safe." I told him.

"You too babe." The phone disconnected. I tried to go back to sleep but found I couldn't, so grumbling I got up, made coffee, and staggered into the shower. I'm sure somewhere, Ranger's feeling inordinately pleased with himself.