You wouldn't have to worry about getting blown up when you leave at the end of the day.'
Ranger owns a small seven-story office building in downtown Trenton. The building is unspectacular on the outside. Well maintained but not architecturally interesting. The interior of the building is high tech and slick, equipped with a state-of-the-art control center, offices, a gym, studio apartments for some of Ranger's crew, plus an apartment for Ranger on the top floor. I'd stayed in Ranger's apartment for a short time on a nonconjugal basis not long ago. It had been equal parts pleasure and terror. Terror because it was Ranger's apartment and Ranger could sometimes be a scary guy. Pleasure because he lives well. The job offer was tempting. My car would be safe. I'd be safe. I'd be able to pay my rent. And the chances of rolling in garbage were slim.
'Okay,' I said. 'I'll take the job.'
'Use the intercom at the gate when you come in tomorrow. Dress in black. You'll be working on the fifth floor.'
'Any leads on Benny Gorman?'
'No. That's one of the things I want you to do. I want you to see what you can turn up.'
Ranger's pager buzzed, and he checked the readout. 'Elroy Dish is back at Blue Fish. Do you want to ride along?'
'No thanks. Been there, done that.'
'Be careful.'
And he was gone.
I looked at my watch. Almost five. Perfect. Stiva would be between afternoon and evening viewings. I drove the short distance up Hamilton and parked on the street. I found Stiva in his office just off the large entrance foyer. I rapped on the doorjamb, and he looked up from his computer.
'Stephanie,' he said. 'Always nice to see you.'
I appreciated the greeting, but I knew it was a big fat lie. Stiva was the consummate undertaker. He was an island of professional calm in an ocean of chaos. And he never alienated a future customer. The ugly truth is, Stiva would rather shove a sharp stick in his eye than see Grandma or me alive on his doorstep. Dead would be something else.
'I hope this visit isn't due to bad news,' Stiva said.
'I wanted to talk to you about Spiro. Have you seen him since the fire?' No.
'Spoken to him?'
'No. Why do you ask?'
'He was driving the car that ran over Morelli.'
Stiva went as still as stone, and his pale vanilla custard cheeks flushed pink. 'Are you serious?'
'Unfortunately, yes. I'm sorry. I saw him clearly.'
'How does he look?' Stiva asked.
I felt my heart constrict at his response. He was a concerned parent, anxious to hear word of his missing son. What on earth could I say to Stiva?
'I only saw him briefly,' I said. 'He seemed healthy. Maybe some scars on his face from the fire.'
'He must have been driving by and lost control of his car,' Stiva said. 'At least I know he's alive. Thank you for coming in to tell me.'
'I thought you'd want to know.'
No point to saying more. Stiva didn't have information to share, and I didn't want to tell him the whole story. I left the funeral home and returned to the SUV. I drove two blocks to Pino's and got two meatball subs, a tub of coleslaw, and a tub of potato salad. Morelli was going to be in a bad mood after spending the afternoon with Lula. I figured I'd try to mellow him out with the sub before I dropped the news about my new job. Morelli wasn't going to be happy to hear I was working for Ranger.
I went out of my way on the trip home to drive by Anthony Barroni's house. I had no real basis for believing he was involved with Spiro and the missing men. Just a gut feeling. Maybe it was desperation. I wanted to think I had a grip on the problem. The grip loosened when I got to Barroni's house. No lights shining. Curtains drawn. Garage door closed. No car in driveway.
I turned at the corner and wound my way through the Burg to Chambers Street.
I crossed Chambers and two blocks later I pulled the SUV into Morelli's garage.
Big Blue and Lula's Firebird were still at the curb. I made sure the garage door was locked, and I carted the bags in through the back door.
'Is that Stephanie Plum coming through the back door?' Lula yelled. ' 'Cause if it's some maniac pervert I'm gonna kick his ass.'
'It's me,' I yelled back. 'Sorry you don't get to do any ass kicking.'
I put the bags on the counter and went into the living room to see Lula and Morelli. Morelli was still on the couch. Bob was still on the floor. And Lula was packing up.
'This wasn't so bad,' Lula said. 'We played poker and I won three dollars and fifty-seven cents. I would have won more, but your boyfriend fell asleep.'
'It's the drugs,' Morelli said. 'You're a sucky poker player. I would have won if I wasn't all drugged up. You took advantage.'
'I won fair and square,' Lula said. 'Anytime you want to get even you let me know. I can always use extra
