I kicked the door open and stormed into my apartment. Connie was at the dining room table, working at the computer. Vinnie was slouched on the couch watching television. Mooner was slouched next to Vinnie.
“Who’s been smoking pot in here?” I yelled. “There is
“I wouldn’t let anyone smoke in here,” Connie said. “I made them go out to smoke.”
“Yeah,” Mooner said. “We like had to smoke in the hall.”
I felt my eyebrows go up into my hairline. “You were smoking pot in the hall? Are you insane? That is
“It’s like great that you’ve got cable,” Mooner said. “You can’t get quality film like this on network. Okay, so it might cost dinero, but dude, you’ve got hobbit movies. That is so like rare.”
The hobbit had his business hanging out, and it was hard to tell if he was interested in the women or the monkey. I didn’t especially care about the hobbit’s sexual orientation. What I cared about was that this was going on my bill. Not only was I going to have to pay for this, but it was going to be public record that I bought hobbit porn. Someone in the cable company billing department would know.
I wrestled the remote away from Vinnie, clicked the television off, and pointed stiff-armed at the door. “Out!”
“I have to meet with the contractor anyway,” Vinnie said, pushing up from the couch. “They’re taking the crime scene tape down tonight, and we can get back to work on the office tomorrow.” He stopped at the door. “Where’s my bear?”
I dropped a peanut into Rex’s cage. “I’m working on it.”
Rex rushed out of his soup can den, stuffed the peanut into his cheek, and rushed back into his soup can.
Mooner held the door open for Vinnie. “Dude, we could get satellite television for the Moon Bus.”
“Yeah, and we could rob a bank to pay for it,” Vinnie said.
“No!” I yelled into the hall, after them. “Don’t say that to Mooner. He’ll do it!”
“At least somebody’ll be bringing in money,” Vinnie said.
I closed and locked the door and looked in on Connie in the dining room. “You don’t think they’ll rob a bank, do you?”
Connie shrugged. “Anything’s possible, but Vinnie would be more inclined to hijack a truck.”
“Anything new come in?”
“No. It’s deadly slow.”
I took a nap and when I woke it was a little after five and Connie was packing up to leave.
“See you tomorrow,” she said. “Do you have anything fun planned for tonight?”
“I’m helping Ranger with a new account.”
“Good thinking to take a nap.”
“It’s business.”
Connie hiked her tote bag onto her shoulder. “I’ve seen him look at you. It’s like you’re lunch.”
I grabbed my sweatshirt and my shoulder bag and walked with Connie to the parking lot. Rangeman was located on a quiet side street in the center of the city. I took Hamilton and did a quick detour into Morelli’s neighborhood. His SUV was in front of his house, so I pulled in behind it and parked. Morelli inherited the house from his aunt and has since become surprisingly domesticated. There’s still some wild beast left in the man, and he doesn’t own a cookie jar, but he’s better than I am at stocking his refrigerator and from time to time he puts the seat down on the toilet.
He was pouring Bob’s dinner kibble into a bowl when I walked into the kitchen. Bob did his happy dance when he saw me, whipped around, and dove for his food when Morelli set the bowl on the floor.
“What’s up?” Morelli asked.
“I just stopped in to say hello. I’m on my way to Rangeman. Ranger asked me to go over a security system.”
“After hours?”
“It’s never after hours at Rangeman.”
Rangeman ran a very specialized high-end security service, and unlike most large security firms, they monitored their accounts locally from a monitoring station in the Rangeman building. The building ran 24/7 and many of the men rented small efficiency apartments on site.
“Anything new on the bonds office bodies?” I asked Morelli.
Bob had scarfed up all his food and was pushing his bowl around on the floor. Morelli grabbed the bowl and put it in the sink. “Nothing earth-shattering. Positive IDs on both of them. Dugan and his lawyer, Bobby Lucarelli. No surprise there. Put into the ground a week to a couple days apart.”
“Dugan and Lucarelli were involved in something bad.”
“That’s a given,” Morelli said. “The question is which bad activity got them killed. Dugan had a laundry list of bad activities.”
I was having a hard time concentrating on Dugan’s activities, because I was thinking Morelli looked unusually hot. He was in jeans and sweat socks and a T-shirt that wasn’t tucked in. And he was developing a nice five o’clock shadow. I mentally undressed him, my eyes lingering over critical areas, my body heat notching up a couple degrees.
Morelli grinned over at me. “Cupcake, that is
I dropped my gaze to his feet. “It’s the socks. Very sexy.”
“I’ll leave them on next time. The way my schedule is looking that’ll be next month. These bonds office murders are attracting attention. I have to be at a press conference tonight at seven. After the press conference I have a meeting with the mayor.”
“Wow, the mayor.”
“I’m one of many attending, and I’m not one of the more important. I’m cannon fodder. Someone to throw under the bus if it becomes necessary.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. At least Terry Gilman will be there. This time I’m going to get a better seat.”
I punched him in the chest, kissed him, and left.
NINETEEN
RANGEMAN HAS UNDERGROUND PARKING for private and fleet vehicles, all of which are black and immaculate. All are equipped with GPS tracking. Ranger has personal space at the back of the garage, directly in front of the elevator. His cars are also black and immaculate. He has four spaces, and he currently has three vehicles — a Porsche 911 Turbo, a tricked-out Ford F150, and a Porsche Cayenne. I parked my filthy, dented Escort in the fourth spot.
I entered the elevator, waved hello to the hidden camera and went to the fifth floor. Every part of Rangeman is monitored with the exception of the restrooms off the lobby on the ground floor, employees’ private apartments, and Ranger’s apartment on the seventh floor. The fifth floor is Rangeman command central. The monitoring station is here, plus Ranger’s office. The elevator door opened on five, and Ranger stepped in and pressed the seven button.
“The plans are upstairs,” he said. “I thought we could go over them while we ate. I’m sure Ella left enough for two.”
Ella and her husband manage the Rangeman building, and Ella personally manages Ranger. She keeps his apartment pristine, ensures that his clothes are perfect, delivers two gourmet meals a day, and attempts to humanize a space that without her would be sterile. Ranger isn’t a man who sets up family photos on the coffee
