Dirty Thirty (Stephanie Plum, #30)(14)

Lula walked over to Bob and me. “I didn’t see Sissy,” she said. “How about you?”

“I didn’t see her,” I said, “but there were a lot of people rushing to their cars all at once and it would have been easy to miss her.”

Truth is, I’d only seen her very briefly that one time, and I wasn’t sure I would even recognize her. There were a lot of women with short brown hair working at the button factory.

A text message from Ranger popped up on my phone. I’ll pick you up at 7:15 tonight.





CHAPTER FOUR




“Sometimes Ranger is a man of too few words,” I said to Bob. “I’m assuming this isn’t a dinner date, but beyond that I haven’t a clue.”

I knew it wasn’t a dinner date because Ranger didn’t date. He seduced. He rescued. He tended to business.

At 7:10 I hooked Bob up to his leash and went downstairs to wait for Ranger. At precisely 7:15 the lights on his black Porsche Cayenne flashed at the entrance to my parking lot and Ranger pulled up in front of me. I opened the back passenger-side door, tossed in a dog biscuit, and Bob jumped into the back seat. I sat next to Ranger.

“Babe,” Ranger said, still idling at the building.

“Morelli had to go on a business trip, and he asked me to take care of Bob.”

Ranger glanced in the rearview mirror at Bob. “Why is he in my car?”

“If I leave him alone in my apartment, he gets bored and he eats things… like my couch. You didn’t say anything about the night’s activities, so I thought it might be okay for Bob to ride along.”

“I want to search Andy Manley’s room, so this afternoon his parents were lucky enough to be chosen at random by the local radio station for dinner for two at Trattoria Romano. Drinks and dessert included. Reservation at seven o’clock. I thought you would want to join me.”

“Absolutely.”

Ranger flicked another glance at Bob. “Is Bob going to be an asset?”

A mental video of Bob running down a bunch of crazed cats flashed through my head. “No,” I said, “Bob wouldn’t be an asset.”

Ten minutes later a black Rangeman Ford Explorer parked next to us. Rodriguez was driving and Hal was riding shotgun.

I handed Bob over to Hal. “Behave yourself,” I said to Bob.

“Don’t worry,” Hal said to me. “We’ll take good care of him. I’ve got two dogs of my own.”

“What kind of dogs do you have?” I asked him.

“Chihuahuas. Mindy and Killer.”

Hal was built like a rhinoceros and was the size of a stegosaurus. He barely fit in the Explorer. Hal walking down the street with a Chihuahua on a leash would stop traffic. It would cause chaos. There would be laughter-induced medical emergencies.

“Chihuahuas are small dogs but they have big personalities,” Hal said.

“That’s so true,” I said.

Ranger put the Porsche in gear and took off.

“I guess you aren’t a dog person,” I said to Ranger.

Ranger cut a sidewise glance at me and turned onto Hamilton Avenue. “I like dogs,” he said. “It’s people I’m not so sure about.”

We parked in front of the Manley house and sat for a couple minutes, making sure the house was vacant. Lights were off. The white Corolla wasn’t visible.

“Let’s do it,” Ranger said.

We got out of the car, walked to the front door, and Ranger took thirty seconds doing something with the lock to get us in. We shut the door and a herd of cats rushed over. They were meowing and rubbing against us, and a large tabby tried to climb up Ranger’s leg.

“This wasn’t in my briefing,” Ranger said.

“Andy’s mom is a foster cat mother for the humane society. And I think she has some of her own.”

“If you get the fat one off my leg, I’ll do something nice for you later tonight.”

Oh boy. I had a pretty good idea what my reward would be.

I pried the tabby off his leg and set it on the floor. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I don’t flirt,” Ranger said. “I make promises that I’m very good at keeping.”

So, here’s what Morelli was talking about when he said this would be his worst nightmare. Ranger is walking and talking sex. He’s totally ripped. He’s Cuban-American with some Spanish ancestry. He’s perfectly put together and is skilled in combat and foreplay. He’s also smart, and I like him. I might even love him. Trouble is I also love Morelli, and at the moment, I’m supposed to be committed to him. Since I don’t want to be labeled a slut, I’m going to try to honor that commitment. Ranger doesn’t make it easy.

We moved through the house to the kitchen. Ranger found a bag of cat kibble and poured some on the floor, and the cats abandoned us for the kibble. We finished searching the lower level and moved upstairs to Andy’s room. It was easy to find. It was the room with the photographs of clowns, mimes, and women who were mostly naked. The sign on his door said STAY OUT! DISASTER ZONE!!

The bed was a rumpled mess. Clothes were scattered across the floor. There were two empty bags of chips and two empty beer cans on his nightstand. There was a small wooden desk under the one window in the room. There was a large monitor and a Nintendo Switch with controllers on the desk but no computer or tablet.