“Don’t know. It’s street chatter. Nutsy was a private hire, but Rangeman installed and monitored the security equipment for Plover. Maybe Ranger’s just protecting the Rangeman brand. Maybe there’s something more.”
“Plover didn’t share that information with me,” I said.
“This robbery smells bad. The initial robbery was almost a joke. The fake gun. Dropping the bag of jewelry. The prime suspect trying to commit suicide. And then the follow-up of a second robbery that had to have been done by a professional. For sure not Dugan, since he hadn’t been bonded out at the time of the alleged theft.”
“Could Dugan have been working with someone? Maybe even Nutsy?”
“Anything is possible. I’m sure Jonesy looked into it. He’s a good man. I haven’t talked to him lately, but he’s probably digging around, looking for a connection. There could also be a mob connection here since the second theft was so professionally executed. It wouldn’t be good for you to poke the bear if it’s mob. You don’t want to get involved,” Morelli said.
“It’s all good. I can partner with Ranger.”
“My worst nightmare,” Morelli said. “I’ll be stuck in Miami, and you’ll be doing God knows what with Ranger. He’s built a premier security company, but he’s a threat as a human being. He’s fearless. He plays by his own rules. And I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
“Like I’m lunch?”
“Yeah,” Morelli said. “Plus, he has skills and resources to back him up when things get bad. You have Lula.”
All this was true.
Morelli leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. “I have to run. I’m catching a plane out of Newark and I’m late. Bob’s leash is on the counter. Probably you want to stash that bag of food up somewhere high, so he doesn’t binge-eat it and throw up on your couch.”
I locked the door after Morelli left and I looked at Bob, sprawled on my couch. “Just you and me,” I said. “Have you had dinner?”
Bob’s eyes popped open at the mention of dinner.
I got his bowls out of the cabinet and filled one with water and the other with kibble. Bob rushed into the kitchen, snarfed down the kibble, and went to the door. I liked Bob a lot and I didn’t mind him living with me. I wasn’t so excited about the walking and picking-up-Bob-poop part.
It was seven thirty when we got back from the walk. I made myself a peanut butter and olive sandwich, washed it down with a bottle of beer, and had a Butterscotch Krimpet Tastykake for dessert. I gave a chunk of the Krimpet to Rex. He shot out of his soup can, almost exploded with joy when he saw the Krimpet, and hauled his treasure back into his can. Another reason why hamsters are the best. No agonizing over how fat their ass will be if they eat a Krimpet. Just snatch it up and hide it in your soup can before it goes away.
This is pretty much the extent of my skills in the kitchen. I usually eat at the sink, and I never have dinner guests. Since I don’t have a second bedroom to use as an office, I work at my otherwise unused dining room table.
Bob and I moseyed over to the table. I opened my MacBook and tapped Andrew Manley into a search engine. Seconds later I started getting information.
Manley had enlisted in the army when he graduated high school. After his stint in the army, he went to a clown school in Florida, graduated with honors, and got a job at Rent-A-Clown in Des Moines. After six months he returned to Florida and drove a cement truck. He migrated back to Trenton two years ago and moved in with his parents. According to his online information, he was still living there. He’d been working as a security guard for Plover for almost a year. Prior to that he was a box store bagger. He owned a Yamaha SR400 bike. No car. His parents owned a white Toyota Corolla. They lived about a half mile from my parents. I knew the neighborhood, but I didn’t know the senior Manleys.
I was guessing my grandma Mazur knew them. Grandma moved in with my parents when my grandfather went to the big bacon buffet in GodLand. She’s hooked into the Burg gossip network, and she knows everything about everyone. A large percentage of it is even true.
“I have a plan,” I said to Bob. “First thing tomorrow we’ll go to my parents’ house to talk to Grandma about the Manleys. This has the added advantage of getting breakfast.”
Bob looked happy about this. He might not have been able to put it all together, but he knew the word breakfast.
CHAPTER TWO
It’s not necessary to set an alarm when you sleep with Bob. At the crack of dawn, he was a heavy weight on my chest, his nose inches from mine, breathing hot dog breath at me.
First priority was to walk Bob. Second priority was to feed Bob and Rex and give them fresh water. Also high on my day’s to-do list were talk to Grandma and check on Duncan Dugan.
It was almost eight o’clock when I parked in front of my parents’ house, and Bob and I went to the front door. I opened the door and Bob shoved me aside and galloped through the house, looking for my mom and Grandma. I heard a shriek and a crash that sounded like glass breaking, and I knew Bob had found his target.
By the time I reached the kitchen, my mom was picking up chunks of crockery and Bob was getting hugs from Grandma.
“He caught me by surprise,” my mom said. “I wasn’t expecting him. Is Joseph here, too?”
“Just me,” I said. “Morelli had to go out of town, so I’m babysitting.” I looked at the pieces of white porcelain in her hand. “Was that a dish?”
“It had a Danish pastry on it,” Grandma said. “Bob took a header into your mother and the dish, and the pastry went flying. Bob snapped the pastry up before it even hit the floor.”
I narrowed my eyes at Bob. “Bad dog.”
“It was an accident,” Grandma said. “He gets excited when he sees us. And he’s always had a sweet tooth. It runs in the family.”
Bob was as close to a grandson and great-grandson as my family was going to get from me in the near future. So, the fact that he was a dog was sometimes overlooked.
“Do you want breakfast?” my mom asked me. “I was just making some breakfast sausage and eggs for your grandmother.”
I helped myself to coffee and took a seat at the table. “Sausage and eggs sound great.”
Grandma brought the bakery box to the table and sat across from me. “We got more pastries. I got them fresh this morning.”
I took a cheese Danish. “Any new gossip?” I asked Grandma.
“Nothing worth repeating,” Grandma said. “This neighborhood is getting boring. Most of the mob has either died or moved away, and the young people just sit home frying their brains with their eyes glued to their smartphone screens. If you ask me, they’d be better off going out and stealing cars. At least they’d be learning a trade.”
“Do you remember Andy Manley?”
“Nutsy? Sure, I remember him,” Grandma said. “Double Dare Nutsy. He was a whack-a-doodle in school, but he turned out to have talent. He graduated with honors from clown school. His mother went to Florida for the graduation. She was real proud of him. It’s a shame it didn’t work out long-term. He had his heart set on traveling with a circus, but there’s not a lot of circuses anymore. I talked to his mother at bingo a while back, and she said the rent-a-clown job wasn’t emotionally rewarding to him.”