on her way to bail you out again. And hopefully, you’ll be cleared of charges soon.”
“That’s okay,” Myron said. “I didn’t have anything to do today, anyway.”
I HAD MY map and a summary of Ranger’s accounts in front of me. My plan was to take a look at those accounts I’d tagged as high risk and those accounts that had already been hit. The first two houses were high risk. Each of the houses had a touch pad by the front door and a touch pad by the garage entrance. I couldn’t find any evidence of filming devices in the touch-pad areas. The next stop was the only commercial account on my list. It was the insurance company that had been burgled four days ago.
I went directly to the rear-entrance touch pad and looked to find possible lines of sight. Rangeman had installed a motion sensor over the door. This was the spot I’d choose if I wanted to snoop on the touch pad. I’d set the camera above the motion sensor, and it would look like it belonged there. There was no camera there now, but it looked to me like some of the paint above the motion sensor had flaked off.
I asked building maintenance to get me a stepladder. I climbed up, took a closer look, and I was pretty sure something had been taped there. When the tape was removed, the paint had peeled away with it. I took a picture with my cell phone and thanked the maintenance guy for the ladder.
“No problem,” he said. “The guy last week needed a ladder, too.”
“What guy?”
“The Rangeman guy. What is it that you people keep checking?”
“Do you remember exactly when he was here?”
“Yeah, he was here twice. Monday morning and Wednesday morning.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Sure. He was young. Maybe eighteen or nineteen. Slim.
About my height. I’m five ten. Brown hair, brown eyes. Sort of dark skin. Nice-looking kid. Is something wrong?”
“No, but I’ll check with the office to make sure we’re not both doing the same route. Did you get his name?”
“No. He didn’t tell me his name. At least, I can’t remember.”
I had to work hard not to run out of the building. I was so excited, I could barely concentrate on driving. I screeched to a stop in the Rangeman garage and danced in the elevator all the way to the seventh floor. I ran through Ranger’s apartment, rushed into his bedroom, and jumped on the bed.
“I’ve got it! I know how the robberies were done and I know what the guy looks like!”
I was straddling Ranger, who fortunately was under a quilt, because from what I could see, he looked deliciously naked.
Ranger put his hands on my waist. “You’ve got my attention.”
“I noticed the paint was flaked away near a motion sensor that was opposite the touch pad at the insurance company. So I asked for a ladder, and sure enough, you could see where something had been taped to the wall.”
“Keep talking.”
“Are you sure you’re listening? Your hand just moved to my breast.”
“You’re so soft,” Ranger said, his thumb brushing across my nipple.
I got a rush, followed by a lot of desire spread all over the place. “Oh,” I heard myself murmur. “That feels good.” No! Wait a minute. Get a grip. “Jeez,” I said. And I scrambled off the bed.
“I almost had you,” Ranger said.
“I’m not ready for you. I’m currently off men.”
“Taking a hiatus.”
“Something like that.”
“Tell me more about my break-in expert.”
“The maintenance man said a Rangeman employee had been in twice to check on the same motion sensor. I figure, once to install the camera and once to remove it. He said the tech was eighteen or nineteen years old. Around five ten. Brown hair, brown eyes, sort of dark skin. Nice-looking.”
“I don’t have anyone that young,” Ranger said, “but I have several men who would fit the rest of the description and might look younger than they actually are.”
“So we’re back to someone in-house. That’s ugly.”
Ranger slipped out of bed. “I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ll follow up on this.”
I stared at him. He was naked, all right.
“You’re staring,” he said, smiling.
“I like to look.”
“Nice to know,” Ranger said, “but we should be able to do better than that for you.”
I rummaged through Ranger’s refrigerator while he took a shower. Fresh fruit, low-fat cottage cheese, orange juice, nonfat milk, white wine. No leftover pizza. No birthday cake. Ranger was hot, but he didn’t know much about food.
I went down to the fifth floor, got an assortment of sandwiches and sides, and brought it all back to Ranger’s apartment.
Ranger strolled in and took a turkey club. “Did you get the name of the maintenance guy?”
“Mike. He’ll be there until three o’clock today.”
“Do you want to ride with me?”
“I can’t. I need to check on my fire damage and see if Lula needs help with the cook-off.”
“How are you doing with FTAs?”
“I have one open. I saved the worst for last. Cameron Manfred. Armed robbery. Connie has him living in the projects. Works for Barbara Trucking.”
“I can go out with you tonight,” Ranger said.
I PULLED THE Cayenne into the parking lot to my building and looked up at my windows. One window was broken. Looked like it was boarded over from the inside. All were ringed with black soot. Grimy water stains streaked down the yellow brick exterior. Water still pooled in the parking lot. What looked like the remains of my couch sat black and sodden alongside the Dumpster. Sometimes it was good not to have a lot of expensive stuff. Less to feel bad about when it got fire-bombed.
I took the stairs and stepped into the second-floor hall. Dillon had a couple giant fans working at drying the carpet. The door to my apartment was open, and Dillon was inside.
Dillon was around my age, and he’d been the building super for as long as I could remember. He lived in the bowels of the building in a free but tomblike efficiency. He was a nice guy who’d do anything for a six-pack of beer, and he was always mellow, in part from the small cannabis farm in his bathroom. He was a little sloppy in a hip super-casual kind of way, and he tended to show some butt-crack when he came up to fix your plumbing, but you didn’t actually mind because his butt-crack was kind of cute.
“I hope it’s okay I’m in your apartment,” Dillon said. “I wanted to get some of the waterlogged stuff out, and I have an insurance agent due any minute.”
“Fine by me,” I said. “I appreciate the help with the furniture.”
“It was a lot worse last time you were firebombed,” Dillon said. “Most of the damage this time is from water and smoke. It didn’t touch your bedroom at all. And it didn’t get to your bathroom.”
I blew out a sigh.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sorry it didn’t get to your bathroom. I thought about spreading some gasoline around and lighting a match in there, but I was afraid I’d blow myself up. On the bright side, I’m sure this isn’t the last time you’ll ever get firebombed, so maybe you’ll have better luck next time.”
“There’s a cheery thought.”
“Yeah, I’m a glass is half full kind of guy.”
“Speaking of glasses. I could use a beer.”
“I put some in your fridge. I figured you’d need a cold one.”
I cracked open a beer and slogged through my apartment. The curtains were history. The couch I already knew about. The rugs were sort of melted and waterlogged. No biggie on the rugs. They weren’t wonderful to begin with,
