Morelli was already out of the house when I dragged myself down the stairs and into the kitchen. I gave Bob a hug, scooped some coffee into the coffeemaker, added water, pushed the button, and listened to the magical gurgle of coffee brewing. Morelli had a loaf of raisin bread out on the counter. I considered toasting a slice, but it seemed like unnecessary work, so I ate a slice raw. I drank my coffee and read the paper Morelli left behind.
'Gotta go to work,' I said to Bob, pushing back from the table.
Bob didn't look like he cared a lot. Bob had found a patch of sun on the kitchen floor and was soaking it up.
I showered and got dressed in clean jeans and a little knit shirt. I swiped some mascara on my lashes and took off. I had two files pulled from the pack on the seat next to me. Leon James, the arsonist. And Lonnie Johnson. Both high bonds.
I drove the short distance to Hamilton and parked in front of the office. I got out of the Mini and looked across the street at the black SUV with Virginia plates and tinted windows. Carmen was on the job. I stuck my head into the office. Lula was on the couch reading a movie star magazine. Connie was at her desk.
'How long's the SUV been across the street?' I asked.
'It was there when I opened the office,' Connie said.
'Anybody come in to say hello?'
'Nope.'
I turned and walked across the street and rapped on the driver's side window of the SUV.
The window rolled down, and Carmen looked out at me. 'Looks to me like you spent the night with someone,' she said. 'Like maybe you spent the night with my husband.'
'I spent the night with my boyfriend. Not that it's any of your business.'
'I'm going to stick to you like nothing you've ever seen. I know you're going to lead me to the son of a bitch. And when I find him, I'm going to kill him. And then I'm going to kill you.'
Carmen Manoso had said this with eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. And I realized that the jealousy I felt over her and Ranger was nothing compared to the jealousy she felt toward me. Like it or not, fact or fiction, I was the other woman.
'Maybe we should talk this over,' I said. 'There are some things that don't add up for me. Maybe I can help you. And I have a couple questions.'
The gun appeared, pointed at a spot in the middle of my forehead. 'I'm not answering any more questions,' Carmen said.
I stepped to the rear of the SUV and got the plate. Then I hustled across the street and into the office.
'Well?' Connie asked.
'It's Carmen, the woman in black. She claims to be Ranger's wife. I've seen her driver's license. It reads Carmen Manoso. Her story is that he walked out on her last week, and she's looking for him.'
'Holy crap,' Lula said.
Connie started punching information into her computer. 'Do you know anything else? Address?'
'Arlington. I didn't see her driver's license long enough to get more,' I told her. 'And I have the plate.' I scribbled it on a piece of paper for her. 'Supposedly Ranger had an office in the area, closed it without warning and disappeared.'
This is the age of instant access. Connie had computer programs that pulled everything from credit history to medical history to high school grades and movie preferences. Connie could find out if you were constipated in 1994.
'Here she is,' Connie said. 'Carmen Manoso. Twenty-two years old. Maiden name, Carmen Cruz. Married to Ricardo Carlos Manoso. Blah, blah, blah. I don't see anything especially interesting. She's originally from Lanham, Maryland, and then Springfield, Virginia. No children. No history of mental illness. No criminal history that I can see. Unimpressive work history. Mostly in retail sales. Waited tables at a bar in Springfield and most recently lists herself as self-employed, bounty hunter. Some financial information. The SUV is leased. Lives in a rental in Arlington. I can go deeper, but it'll take a day or two.'
'What about Ranger? Can you run a check on him?'
'Connie and me try to run a check on him all the time,' Lula said. 'It's like he doesn't exist.'
I looked at Connie. 'Is that true?'
'I'm surprised his name showed up in Carmen's data base,' Connie said. 'He has a way of erasing himself.'
I redialed Ranger's cell number and got his service again. 'Hey, man of mystery,' I said, 'your wife is here, and she's looking for you with a gun in her hand.'
'That would get my attention,' Lula said.
'Only if you were near a cell tower,' I told her. 'And sometimes Ranger goes places where no cell tower has gone before. Let's saddle up. I want to see what Lonnie Johnson's house looks like today. See if anyone's shooting at him.'
Lula's Firebird was parked in the small back lot, so we left through the back door and took her car. After a couple blocks I called Connie.
'Is Carmen still at the curb?'
'Yep. She didn't see your rear exit. Guess bounty hunter skills aren't high on the list for things you learn when you're married to Ranger.'
I hung up, and Lula cruised down Hamilton and hooked a right turn into Johnson's neighborhood. We were a block away when we saw the lone fire truck. It was parked in front of Johnson's house… or at least, what was left of it.
'Hunh,' Lula said, creeping in for a closer look. 'Hope he had insurance.'
Johnson's house was a pile of blackened rubble.
I got out of the car and walked to the fire truck where two firemen were checking a form off on a clipboard.
'What happened?' I asked.
'The house burned down,' one of them said.
They looked at each other and laughed. Fireman humor.
'Anyone hurt?'
'No. Everyone got out. Are you a friend?'
'I knew Lonnie Johnson. Do you know where he went?'
'No, but he went there fast. Left his girlfriend behind to sort through the mess. She said it was a kitchen fire, but there was no way.'
How about this: maybe the firebomb landed in the kitchen.
I got back into the car and slouched in my seat.
'Look on the bright side,' Lula said. 'Nobody's shooting. And I don't see no rocket launcher.'
Stephanie Plum 12 - Twelve Sharp
Three
I think we'll file Lonnie Johnson in the lost cause file,' I said to Lula. 'If he has any sense at all, he's on a bus out of town.'
'Good idea,' Lula said. 'Who we got next up?'
I'd planned to do the arsonist next, but he'd lost some appeal now that I had my nose clogged with barbecued house. I got the stack of files from the back seat and fingered through them.
Luis Queen had been picked up for solicitation. Not a high bond, but he'd be easy to find. I hauled Luis Queen in all the time. Unfortunately, it was too early for Queen. He wouldn't be on his corner turning tricks until midafternoon. Queen liked to sleep in.
Caroline Scarzolli held some potential. She was a low-bond shoplifter. First-time offender. Worked in a lingerie and gadget shop. I handed the file to Lula. 'How about this one?'
'I like this one,' Lula said. 'Scarzolli will be at work now, and I've been wanting to take a look at this store. I gave up being a 'ho, but I still like to keep up on the technology.'
Pleasure Treasures was on a side street in the middle of the city. The name on the front of the store was written in hot-pink neon light. The lingerie displayed in the window was exotic. Crotchless panties trimmed in faux fur, sequined thongs, nipple pasties, animal-print garter belts.
Lula parked in the small lot adjacent to the store, and we sauntered up to the front door. Actually, Lula was the only one sauntering. I was skulking, head down, hoping no one was looking.
An older woman walked by with her dog and our eyes met.
I'm a bounty hunter, looking for someone,' I said to her. 'I'm not buying anything here. I've never even been here before.'
The woman hurried on, and Lula shook her head at me.
'That is so sad,' Lula said. 'That shows low self-esteem. That shows you got no pride in your sexual side. You should've told that woman y
ou were going in to get a vibrator and edible massage oils. This here's the twenty-first century. Just 'cause we're women don't mean we can't be sick as men.'
'It's not the twenty-first century in the Burg. My mother would get an eye twitch if she heard I was shopping in the Pleasure Treasures.'
'Yeah, but I bet your Grandma Mazur shops here all the time,' Lula said, walking into the store, going into browse mode. 'Look at all those dildos. A whole wall of dildos.' Lula picked one off a shelf and pushed a button and it started to hum and rotate. This here's a good one,' she said. 'It can sing and dance.'
I had no frame of reference for dildos. 'Yeah,' I said, 'it's… nice.'
'It ain't nice!' Lula said, obviously impressed. 'It's a nasty bugger.'
'That's what I meant. Nice and nasty.'
She handed me the dancing dildo. 'Here, you hold it for me while I look around. I want to check out the DVD selection.'
I followed Lula to the DVDs.
'They got a good selection,' Lula said. 'They got all the classics like Debbie Does Dallas and Horny Little People. And here's my personal favorite, Big Boys. Have you seen Big Boys?'
I shook my head, no.
'You gotta see Big Boys. It'll change your life. I'm gonna buy Big Boys for you.'
'That's okay, I don't—'
'It's a present from me.' She handed me the DVD. 'Hang onto it while I keep looking.'
'We're supposed to be working,' I said. 'Remember how we came in here to apprehend Caroline Scarzolli?'
'Yeah, but that's her over there behind the counter, and she don't look like she's going anywhere. She looks just like her picture. I bet she's wearing a wig. Don't it look like a wig to you?'
Caroline was seventy-two years old, according to her bond sheet. She had skin like an alligator and bleached blond hair that was teased into a rat's nest. If it was a wig, she got swindled no matter what she paid. She was wearing orthopedic shoes, fishnet stockings, a tight spandex miniskirt, and a skimpy tank top that showed a lot of wrinkled cleavage. I was guessing she smoked three packs a day and slept naked in a tanning bed.
I glanced at my watch.
'Okay, I can see you're all antsy to make this bust. How about we check out, and then we give her the bad news?'
'Deal.'
Lula took the dildo and the DVD to the register and handed Caroline her credit card.
'We're having a two-for-one sale on dildos,' Caroline said. 'Don't you want to pick out a second?'
'Hear that?' Lula said to me. 'Two-for-one sale. Go get yourself a dildo.'
'I don't actually need—'
'Two for one!' Lula said. 'Pick one, for crying out loud. How many times in life do you get offered a free dildo?'
I took the first one I saw and brought it to Lula.
'That's a beauty,' Caroline said. 'You have good taste. It's our precision replica of the famous adult movie star Herbert Horsecock. It weighs five pounds and it's solid rubber. It's one of our few uncircumsized dildos. It even comes in a special-edition red velvet drawstring carrying sack.'
Lula got her credit card back and took possession of the dildos. 'Okay,' she said to me. 'Do your thing.'
I gave Caroline my card and introduced myself and gave her the baloney about rebonding.
'Who's going to watch the store if I leave now?' she asked.
'Is there someone you can call to come in and babysit?'
'What, like my ninety-year-old mother?'
'You're not exactly doing a lot of business,' I told her.
'Sweetie, I just sold over a hundred dollars worth of shit.'
'You sold it to Lula!'
'Yeah,' Caroline said in her deep smoker's voice. 'Life is good.'
'It isn't that good,' I told her. 'You're going to have to come with me. Now.'
'Okay,' she said. 'Just let me get something.' And she dipped behind the counter.
'What are you getting?' I asked.
She reappeared with a sawed-off shotgun. 'This big gun,' she said. 'That's what I'm getting. Take your dildos and march your ass out of my store.'
Lula and I speed-walked out of the store and rammed ourselves into the Firebird.
'Look on the bright side,' Lula said. 'You got a free dildo. And you got a great movie. Happy birthday early.'
'I don't need a dildo.'
'Sure you do. You never know when it might come in handy. And this Herbert Horsecock dildo's got some heft to it. You could use it as a doorstop, or a paperweight, or you could decorate it with those little twinkle lights at Christmas.'
'I need an apprehension. Vinnie isn't the only one worried about money. I need rent money.' I shuffled through the files. 'I want to do phone work on some of these. Make some calls to verify employment. See if anyone's at the home address. Let's go back to the office.'
'Where am I supposed to park?' Lula wanted to know. 'There's not supposed to be people parked in this lot back here. This is a private lot for the bonds office. We should call the cops on these people.' She circled around the block and looked for a spot on the street. 'I swear I've never seen so many cars. They must be having a party at the beauty parlor.'
'Carmen hasn't moved from her spot,' I said.
Lula glanced over as she crept down the street, looking for a parking space. 'She's hunkered in. Ranger really pissed her off.'
I was still having a hard time believing Carmen's story. I couldn't see Ranger married. And I couldn't see Ranger cleaning out the bank account. Ranger played a little loose with the law, but he had a very firm moral code. And from what I could see, he wasn't hurting for money.
I checked my phone to make sure it was on, and I hadn't missed a call.
'Still haven't heard from him?' Lula asked.
'No. He must be underground.'
He'd only been gone for twenty-four hours. It was too early to be worried about his safety. But I was worried all the same. It was all too weird.
Lula parked two cars down from me, and we walked to the office. I watched the black SUV for a protruding gun barrel but saw none. When we got to the office we realized it was packed with people.
'What the heck?' Lula said, pushing through the mob to Connie.
Connie was at her desk, trying to talk to the people crowded directly in front of her.
'I ran an ad in the paper this morning for the bond enforcement agent job,' she said to me. 'And this is the response. And the phone hasn't stopped ringing. I had to turn it over to the answering service so I could try to clear this out.'
'Looks like they emptied out the funny farm and everyone came here,' Lula said. 'Who are these people? They look like movie extras. They all look like that bounty hunter guy on television, only most of them have better hair. I tell you, they should take that TV bounty hunter guy to the beauty parlor.'
Connie handed me a steno pad and pen. 'You take the front of the room, and I'll take the back. Get names and phone numbers and some work information and tell them we'll be in touch. Put a star by anyone who has potential.'
Forty-five minutes later, the last of the BEA wannabes walked out the door, and Connie hung out a CLOSED sign. Two people were left sitting on the couch. Joyce Barnhardt and Melvin Pickle.
Joyce was dressed in black leather, her eyes heavily lined in black, her red hair teased and lacquered, her lips artificially inflated and painted red to match her hair. She had her arms crossed, and her legs crossed, and her foot jiggled impatiently in stiletto-heeled boots.
Joyce was a flesh-eating fungus. She'd been through more husbands than I could count, and each time she chewed them up and spit them out, she got richer. Three months of marriage to Joyce, and a man was willing to bankrupt himself to get free. When I was in first grade, Joyce threw my crayons in the toilet. When I was in second grade, she spit in my lunch. In third grade she told everybody I didn't wear underpants. In fourth grade she said I had three nipples. In high school she somehow took a picture of me in the girls' locker room and had it made into a flyer and distributed two hundred.<
br />
'I am very insulted by this whole piece of shit,' Joyce said. 'If you needed another bounty hunter, why didn't you call me? You know Vinnie brings me in when he needs help.'
'First off,' Connie said, 'Vinnie doesn't bring you in when he needs help. He brings you in when he needs to fornicate with a barnyard animal. And second, I didn't call you because we all hate you.'
'And?' Joyce said.