Hot Six

here. It hadn't been a friendly divorce, and Dickie and I don't exchange Christmas cards. Once in a while our professional paths cross.

Cynthia Lotte was sitting at the front desk, looking like an Ann Taylor advertisement in her simple gray suit and white shirt. She looked up in alarm when I pushed through the door, obviously recognizing me from my last visit, when Dickie and I had a small disagreement.

'He isn't in his office,' she said.

There is a God. 'When do you expect him in?'

'Hard to say. He's in court today.'

She didn't have a ring on her finger. And she didn't seem grief-stricken. In fact, she seemed downright happy, aside from the fact that Dickie's crazy ex-wife was in her office.

I faked some goggle-eyed interest in the reception area. 'This is pretty nice. It must be great to work here.'

'Usually.'

I took this to mean 'almost always, except for now.' 'I guess this is a good place to work if you're single. Probably you have a chance to meet lots of men.'

'Is this going somewhere?'

'Well, I was just thinking about Homer Ramos. You know, wondering if you met him at the office here.'

There was a dead silence for several seconds, and I could swear I heard her heart beating. She didn't say anything. And I didn't say anything. I couldn't tell what was going on inside her head, but I was doing some interior knuckle-cracking. The question about Homer Ramos had actually come out a little more abrupt than I'd planned, and I was feeling sort of uncomfortable. I'm usually only mentally rude to people.

Cynthia Lotte gathered herself together and looked me straight in the eye. Her manner was demure and her voice was solicitous. 'I don't mean to change the subject, or anything,' she said, 'but have you tried concealer on that zit?'

I sucked in some air. 'Uh, no. I didn't think-'

'You should be careful, because when they get that big and all red and filled with pus they can leave scars.'

My fingers flew to my chin before I could stop them. God, she was right. The zit felt huge. It was growing. Damn! My emergency reaction mode kicked in, and the message it sent to my brain was Flee! Hide!

'I should be moving along, anyway,' I said, backing away. 'Tell Dickie I didn't want anything special. I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd say hello.'

I let myself out, took the stairs, and rushed through the lobby and out the door. I crammed myself into the Buick and yanked at the rearview mirror so I could see my zit.

Gross!

I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. Bad enough I had the zit from hell, but Cynthia Lotte had out- ruded me. I'd found out nothing for Ranger. The only thing I knew about Lotte was that she looked good in gray and had pushed my button. One mention of my pimple, and I was out the door.

I looked back at the Shuman Building and wondered if Ramos had done business with Dickie's firm. And what sort of business? It would have made sense for Lotte to have met Ramos that way. Of course, she could also have met him on the street. The Ramos office building was only a block away.

I put the Buick into gear and slowly cruised past the Ramos building. The crime scene tape had been removed, and I could see workmen in the lobby. The service road that ran past the rear door was clogged with repair trucks.

I doubled back through town, stopping at the Radio Shack on Third.

'I need some kind of an alarm,' I told the kid at the register. 'Nothing fancy. Just something that tells me when my front door gets opened. And stop staring at my chin!'

'I wasn't staring at your chin. Honest! I didn't even notice that big zit.'

A half-hour later I was on my way to the office to get Bob. Sitting in a little bag, on the seat beside me, was a small motion detector gizmo for my front door. I told myself it was necessary for general security, but truth is, I knew it had one purpose: to alert me whenever Ranger broke in to my apartment. And why did I feel the need for the gizmo? Did it have anything to do with fear? No. Although there were times when Ranger could be scary. Did it have to do with distrust? Nope. I trusted Ranger. The fact is, I got the gizmo because just once I wanted to have the advantage. It was driving me nuts that Ranger could get into my apartment without even waking me.

I stopped at Cluck-in-a-Bucket and got a barrel of chicken nuggets for lunch. I figured that was best for Bob. No bones to hork up.

Everyone's eyes got bright when I walked through the door with my barrel of nuggets.

'Bob and me were just thinking about chicken,' Lula said. 'You must have read our minds.'

I took the lid off the barrel, set the lid on the floor, and dumped a bunch of nuggets onto it for Bob. I took a nugget for myself and handed the rest off to Lula and Connie. Then I called my cousin Bunny at the credit bureau.

'What have you got on Cynthia Lotte?' I asked Bunny.

A minute later she was back with the answer. 'Not much here,' she said. 'A recent car loan. Pays her bills on time. No derogatory information. Lives in Ewing.' The phone went silent for a couple beats. 'What are you looking for?'

'I don't know. She works for Dickie.'

'Oh.' As if that explained it all.

I got Lotte's address and phone and said adios to Bunny.

The next person I called was Morelli. None of his numbers picked up so I left a message on his pager.

'That's funny,' Lula said. 'Didn't you put those nuggets on the bucket lid? I can't find that bucket lid anywhere.'

We all looked at Bob. He had a small piece of cardboard stuck to his lip.

'Dang,' Lula said. 'He makes me look like an amateur.'

'So, do you notice anything unusual about me?' I asked.

'Only that you got a big zit on your chin. Must be that time of the month, huh?'

'It's stress!' I stuck my head in my shoulder bag and looked for concealer. Flashlight, hairbrush, lipstick, Juicy Fruit gum, stun gun, tissues, hand lotion, pepper spray. No concealer.

'I've got a Band-Aid,' Connie said. 'You could try to cover it with a Band-Aid.'

I stuck the Band-Aid over the pimple.

'That's better,' Lula said. 'Now it looks like you cut yourself shaving.'

Great.

'Before I forget,' Connie said, 'a call came in about Ranger while you were on the phone with the credit bureau. There's a warrant written for his arrest in connection with the Ramos murder.'

'How does the warrant read?' I asked.

'Wanted for questioning.'

'That's how it started with O.J.,' Lula said. 'They just wanted him for questioning. And look how that turned out.'

I wanted to check on Hannibal's town house, but I didn't want to drag Mitchell and Habib over with me.

'I need a diversion,' I said to Lula. 'I need to get rid of those guys in the carpet car.'

'Do you mean you want to get rid of them? Or do you mean you don't want them following you?'

'I don't want them following me.'

'Well, that's easy.' She took a.45 out of her desk drawer. 'I'll just shoot out a couple tires.'

'No! No shooting!'

'You always got all these rules,' Lula said.

Vinnie stuck his head out of his office. 'How about the burning bag thing?'

We swiveled our heads in his direction.

'Usually you do it as a gag on somebody's front porch,' Vinnie said. 'You put some dog shit in a bag. Then you