Hard Eight

I tried to sit on the couch but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Soder and the couch were fixed together in my mind. Sitting on the couch was like sitting on Soder’s dead, sawedin-half lap. The apartment was too small for both me and the couch. One of us was going to have to go.

“Sorry,” I said to the couch. “Nothing personal, but you’re history.” I put my weight behind one end, and I pushed the couch across the living room, into the small entrance foyer in front of the kitchen, out the front door, and into the hall. I positioned it against the wall between my apartment and Mrs. Karwatt’s apartment. Then I ran back into my apartment, closed my door, and did a sigh. I knew there were no such things as death cooties. Unfortunately, that’s an intellectual fact. And death cooties are an emotional reality.

I took the cookies out of the oven, put them on a plate, and carted them off to the living room. I zapped the television on and found a movie. Irma hadn’t said anything about death cooties on the remote, so I assumed death cooties didn’t stick to electronic devices. I pulled a dining room chair over to the television, ate two of the cookies, and watched the movie.

Halfway through the movie, the doorbell rang. It was Ranger. Dressed in his usual black. Full utility belt, looking like Rambo. Hair tied back. He stood there in silence when I opened the door. The corners of his mouth tipped slightly into the promise of a smile.

“Babe, your couch is in the hall.”

“It has death cooties.”

“I knew there’d be a good explanation.”

I shook my head at him. “You’re such a show-off.” Not only had he placed me at the track, his horse had paid off five to one.

“Even superheroes need to have fun once in a while,” he said, looking me over, brushing past me, walking into the living room. “It smells like you’re marking your territory with chocolate chip cookies.”

“I needed something to chase away the demons.”

“Any problems?”

“Nope.” Not since I pushed the couch into the hall. “So what’s up?” I said. “You look like you’re dressed for work.”

“I had to secure a building earlier this evening.”

I’d once been with him when his team secured a building. It involved throwing a drug dealer out a third-story window.

He took a cookie off the plate on the floor. “Frozen?”

“Not anymore.”

“How’d it go at the track?”

“I ran into Eddie Abruzzi.”

“And?”

“We had words. I didn’t find out as much as I’d hoped, but I’m convinced Evelyn has something he wants.”

“I know what it is,” Ranger said, eating his cookie.

I stared at him openmouthed. “What is it?”

He smiled. “How bad do you want to know?”

“Are we playing?”

He slowly shook his head no. “This isn’t play.” He backed me against the wall, and he leaned into me. His leg slid between mine, his lips brushed lightly across my lips. “How bad do you want to know, Steph?” he asked again.

“Tell me.”

“It’ll get added to the debt.”