“What exactly are you hoping to find here?” I asked Ranger.
“A more solid connection between the two men. A lead on their locations. Motivation for the robbery.”
The back door was closed but the lock hadn’t been repaired after Lula’s whack with the hammer. I opened the door and shouted, “Bond enforcement,” and we did a fast walk-through to make sure no one was in the house.
“Stay in the kitchen and watch the back door while I look around,” Ranger said. “If someone approaches, don’t let them get away.”
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to accomplish this, but I gave him a thumbs-up.
The sun wasn’t visible, but the sky was getting brighter. I had no idea where Ranger was in the house. He moved like a cat. Silent and stealthy. I could imagine his value in Special Forces. He didn’t speak a lot about those years or why he left. One of Ranger’s many secrets.
I prowled through the kitchen in the morning light, imagining Duncan Dreary coming home after a day of examining buttons, making his dinner, wondering if there was more to life than buttons.
Headlights appeared in the kitchen window and were immediately extinguished. Moments later, I heard a car door slam shut. Someone had parked in Dugan’s small yard. I flattened myself against the wall beside the back door. If someone entered, I’d kick the door closed behind them and yell for Ranger. I heard someone fumbling with a key and then the doorknob turned. The door opened and a man walked in. I let him get halfway into the kitchen, I kicked the door closed, and I shouted for Ranger. The man turned and rushed at me. He shoved me away from the door and was about to run out. I didn’t have a gun, and I don’t have a lot of muscle, but I have boobs. So, I picked my T-shirt up and flashed my lacy pink bra at him.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Look at this!”
He stopped and stared, and Ranger stepped around me and pinned the man to the wall.
“Nice work,” Ranger said to me. “I like your weapon of choice.”
I straightened my T-shirt. “Might as well use ’em if you got ’em.”
The corners of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “We need to talk,” he said.
The guy pinned against the wall was shorter than Ranger. Maybe five foot ten. Slim. Brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. I would guess he was in his twenties. Looked like he was about to mess his pants.
Ranger took his hand off the man’s chest and stepped back. “It’s okay,” Ranger said. “I’m just going to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure,” the man said.
“Your name.”
“Jeff. I live down the street.” He held up a key. “I have a key. I feed Marty when Duncan works late.”
“Who’s Marty?” Ranger asked.
“The fish. Duncan’s fish.”
“Is that why you’re here now?”
“No. Duncan called and asked if I’d clean out his refrigerator and take out the trash. He said he wouldn’t be home being that he was in the hospital. He’s very neat.”
I introduced myself and told Jeff that I was looking for Duncan because he was overdue for his court date.
“Oh wow,” Jeff said. “Okay. That’s a relief. That was scary for a minute there. I didn’t know what to think. You should look for him in the hospital. I don’t know which one.”
“When did you talk to him?”
“This morning. He knows I’m up early. I work the early shift.”
“Did Duncan sound okay?” Ranger asked.
“No,” Jeff said. “He didn’t sound like himself, or maybe it’s that he sounded sort of out of it. From what I hear he broke a bunch of bones and I guess he’s kind of doped up.”
“We just walked through the house, and we didn’t see a fish,” I said.
“Sissy has him. Duncan said Sissy stopped by for Marty right after Duncan’s accident when he fell off the ledge.”
“Who’s Sissy?” I asked.
“I don’t know exactly except that they’re friends. I’ve never met her. Duncan talked about her sometimes. He couldn’t understand why she always ate chicken salad on a croissant. He thought it was unhealthy with the mayonnaise and the butter croissant.”
“Did you hang out with Duncan?”
“No. We just have a neighbor thing. Like, we talk sometimes but we don’t do social stuff. I met him at Petco a couple years ago and we bonded over fish. We’re both partial to goldfish. They aren’t very exotic, but they have wonderful personalities.”
“Do you have a goldfish?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he said. “She’s a beauty.”
“What’s her name?”
“Goldie the Twelfth.”
“Good name,” I said. I gave Jeff one of my business cards. “I’d appreciate a call if you hear from Duncan.”
“Okay, but I don’t expect to hear from him. He said he wouldn’t be home for quite a while.”
Ranger and I moved toward the door.
“We’re done here,” Ranger said to Jeff. “Lock up when you leave.”
“The lock seems to be broken,” Jeff said.
“I’ll send someone to fix it,” Ranger said.
Ranger and I left and walked to the Cayenne. We waited in the car until we saw Jeff leave Dugan’s house, put a plastic bag in the trash, climb into his car, and drive away.
“What do you think?” I asked Ranger.
“He seems benign, and his body type doesn’t fit either of the two people who wheeled Dugan out of the hospital.”
“Did you find anything interesting in the house?”
“Nothing specific,” Ranger said. “You were right. The house is clean, it says a lot about his personality. I’m going to put surveillance cameras on his front and back doors. He’s a creature of habit. He’s not going to be comfortable using someone else’s choice of shampoo. He’s going to want his pillow, his razor, his crossword puzzle book. He’s going to send someone to get these things if he’s still in the area.”
The neighborhood was waking up. Lights were on in all the houses and dogs were barking. Ranger put the Porsche in gear, drove the length of the alley, and turned toward the center of the city.
“I have morning meetings,” Ranger said. “I’ll take you home and get back to you later in the day.”
CHAPTER SIX
Bob rushed up to me when I let myself into my apartment. I gave him hugs and did a quick look around. All upholstered pieces seemed to be intact, and he hadn’t chewed through any table legs.
“Who’s a good boy? Are you a good boy?” I asked him, ruffling his ears.
I pulled the remaining protein bar out of my sweatshirt pocket and gave it to Bob. It was oats and coconut. No raisins. Okay as Bob food.
I shuffled off to the bathroom, pulled my out-of-control hair into a ponytail, applied a light smudge of eyeliner, dusted some highlighter and blush on my cheeks, and glossed up my lips with pink lipstick. I looked at the woman in the mirror and wished I’d taken the time to look like this for Ranger. Omigod. Mental slap in the face. Get real, Stephanie. You’re two inches away from cheating on your boyfriend and going straight to hell. You don’t want to look better for Ranger. You want to look worse. You need pimples. Bad breath. Hairy legs. I hooked Bob up to his leash and we headed off to the bail bond office.