Green shower gel. How it stayed with him all day was a mystery. His black T-shirt spanned his biceps. He wore a watch as his only jewelry. His back looked athletic under his shirt. I thought it would look even better without the shirt. All I had to do was touch my lips to his neck, and the shirt would be gone.
“Babe,” Ranger said, “if you don’t back up a couple inches, we’re going to be finding out about Bluttovich in the morning.”
I didn’t move. I was contemplating.
“Babe?”
I stepped away from his chair. “I was reading the screen. Let’s see what you can pull up on Blutto.”
Ranger had state-of-the-art computer programs that left most people with virtually no secrets. He could get medical records, credit histories, shoe size, litigation, you name it.
Ranger plugged Gregor Bluttovich into one of the programs and information scrolled up.
“Fifty-two years old,” Ranger said. “Born in Varna, Bulgaria. Came to this country in ’92. He has four ex-wives and is currently unmarried. He has seven kids distributed among his ex-wives. The oldest is thirty-four. The youngest is six. He was a police officer in Varna for fifteen years. No work history after that. He owns property in Newark and Bucks County. I know the Newark area. It has a large Russian immigrant population. The Bucks County property is in Taylorsville. He’s affiliated with three other holding companies. He had a double bypass two years ago. He was charged with assault with a deadly weapon last year, but the charges were dropped.”
“What was the weapon?”
“A chain saw. He cut a guy’s leg off. He claimed it was an accident.”
“This is not a nice man.”
“I have a couple contacts in Newark. See if you can find some crackers and cheese in the kitchen, and I’ll make some phone calls.”
I went to the kitchen and poured myself another glass of wine. I found some brie and something else that was creamy and herby. I’m sure all bought by his housekeeper, Ella. I put the two cheese wedges on a cutting board with water crackers, apple slices, and fresh strawberries and brought them in to Ranger, along with the bottle of wine and our glasses. I set everything on Ranger’s desk, and I spread brie on a cracker for myself.
Ranger took his headset off. “This is nice.”
“I take no responsibility. Ella had everything prepared.”
Ranger sliced off some mystery cheese and ate it with an apple slice. No empty-calories cracker for Ranger. Ranger was into health.
“I talked to two people in Newark,” Ranger said. “The opinion of both is that Gregor Bluttovich is dangerous. Bulgarian mobster. Nicknamed Blutto. Large ego. Terrible temper. Probably criminally insane. Both contacts used the word psycho to describe Bluttovich. He has a mid-size operation, and he’s overextended. Word on the street is that he’s eliminating squeamish business partners.”
“Like Wellington?”
“Yes.”
“Where would Vinnie fit in this?”
“Bluttovich owns Wellington. So Vinnie scammed Bluttovich. And it’s not healthy to scam Bluttovich.”
“How not healthy?”
“As not healthy as you can get.”
“Dead?”
“Very dead,” Ranger said.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Have another glass of wine.”
“And then?”
Ranger’s eyes locked onto mine.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk,” I said to Ranger.
“Not drunk,” Ranger said. “Just relaxed and naked.”
I was distracted by an icon blinking on his computer screen.
“Why is the little flame flashing?” I asked him.
“I’m hard-wired to the control room. One of our systems just sent in a fire alert.”
He tapped a key and an address appeared.
“Hamilton Avenue,” I said. “Omigod, that’s the bonds office!”
Ranger put his headset on and talked to the control room, verifying the fire. He took his headset off, swiveled away from his desk, and stood.
“I suppose this is the end of our romantic moment,” I said to him.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You’ll have a lot more opportunities for romantic moments.”
He closed the space between us and kissed me. Our tongues touched, and I pressed against him.
“It’s only a fire,” I whispered.
He paused for a beat. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all,” he said. And he stripped my white stretchy shirt off. He kissed me again, and when he broke from the kiss, my eyes inadvertently strayed to the computer screen. “Babe?”
“I can’t help it. All those blinking things on your computer are distracting.”
He reached over, hit a key, and the screen went black.
“I know they’re there,” I said.
Ranger tugged my shirt back over my head and smoothed it down. “I’m good and I’m motivated, but I know enough not to try to please a woman who’s distracted.” He kissed me lightly on the lips and pointed me toward the kitchen. “You owe me.”
I grabbed my purse and black cardigan, and Ranger buckled his gun belt back on. We rode the elevator to the garage and took my Mercedes SUV, with Ranger driving.
“This car smells like fried chicken,” Ranger said. “And something else that isn’t good.”
“Connie’s stink bomb,” I told him.
TWENTY-FIVE
RANGER TURNED ONTO Hamilton, and I could see the glow from the fire. My breath caught in my chest and my eyes filled with tears.
“Call Connie and Lula and Vinnie and make sure they’re okay,” Ranger said.
I dialed Connie first. She answered on the second ring, and I breathed a little easier. I told her about the fire, and told her to stay home until I got back in touch. I called Lula next. She was home as well. I called my apartment twice before Vinnie picked up.
“I didn’t know if I was supposed to answer your phone,” Vinnie said.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. The bonds office is on fire.”
“Crap!” Vinnie said. “I’ll be right there.”
“No! I just got here with Ranger. We’ll handle it. I don’t want you to leave the apartment.”
“How bad is it?”
“It’s bad. I’ll call you back when I know more.”
Ranger parked a block away, and it was difficult to see much of anything other than billowing smoke and flames shooting into the black sky. The street was clogged with fire trucks, EMTs, and police cars. Men shouted instructions. They were already getting water to the fire, but the closer we got, the more it became apparent that nothing was going to be saved. There was a series of small explosions and everyone pulled back.
“Ammo,” Ranger said.
Thank goodness we had the yard sale, I thought. The ammo that was left was minimal. And the dynamite had all gotten cleared out. The explosions stopped and the firefighters moved closer. They were concentrating on containment and minimizing the damage to adjoining properties.
“This is out of control,” Ranger said. “We’re going to have to do something about Bluttovich.”
“Like what?”
