“That gives me some ideas. If the shooter decided to drive the body out of town I’m lost. If he wanted a quick shallow grave, I know some spots. Problem is Stump’s gonna be pretty decayed after a month. The hand with the tattoo might be eaten away by now. Ideally, I need something metal to look for. The bigger the better.”
“Understood. I’ll get back to you on it.”
* * *
I met Ranger at four o’clock and we cruised the downtown area.
“It’s been a month since Stump was shot,” Ranger said. “If Marcus is still in Trenton, he might be feeling safe enough to come out of hiding. We have some contacts in the homeless community. I have one of my men talking to them.”
We rode around for a half hour and Ranger got a call.
“We have a lead,” he said. “Marcus surfaced a couple days ago. My man hasn’t seen him, but his source said Marcus is hanging between the Catholic church on French Street and the train station.”
“If he’s back to panhandling, this is a good time to look for him. It’s rush hour for the commuters. Prime time for beggars.”
Ranger left the downtown area, drove to the train station, and parked.
We all got out and walked toward the station. We didn’t see anyone who fit Marcus’s description. There was a scrawny guy selling roses. Beyond him there were a couple hookers. They didn’t know Marcus, but Ranger was offered a freebie. We crossed the street and saw a guy standing on the corner. He looked desperate and down on his luck and he had a piece of torn cardboard that he was using as a sign. He was slim and weathered, and he had a ponytail.
We walked toward him, all casual. A man and a woman and a goofy big dog. We stopped and read the sign. NEED WORK. HELP A VET. GOD BLESS. The hand holding the sign had a spider tattoo.
I smiled at him. Friendly. “Marcus?”
He looked at me, and then he looked at Ranger and you could see the alarm bells going off in his head. He dropped his sign, grabbed a woman standing behind him, waiting for the light to change, shoved her at Ranger, and took off into traffic. Ranger moved the woman aside and ran after Marcus, dodging cars that were screeching to a stop and swerving to avoid an accident. Bob yanked the leash out of my hand and ran after Ranger. I ran after Bob. Marcus was clearly no match for Ranger. Ranger is in prime shape and fast. He was within two feet of Marcus when Bob launched himself into the air and planted his two front feet on Ranger’s back. Ranger hit the pavement with Bob on top of him.
When I got to Ranger he was on his back with Bob looking all happy at his side.
“Omigod,” I said. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” Ranger asked.
“No. You have a lot of blood on your face. I think it’s dripping out of your nose.”
I reached into my messenger bag and found some tissues.
“Bob thought you were playing with him,” I said. “He loves to chase things.”
“He’s not sleeping on the bed tonight,” Ranger said. “And you aren’t wearing pajamas.”
I helped him up. “You almost caught Marcus.”
“Almost doesn’t count.”
I drove back to Rangeman, and by the time I parked in the garage, the blood had stopped dripping from Ranger’s nose.
“You’re kind of scary looking,” I said. “Your shirt is splattered with blood.”
“I’ve looked a lot worse,” Ranger said. “I’m fine. Everyone in my building is either retired military, police, or has been incarcerated. This won’t be the first time they’ve seen a bloody shirt.”
“Do you want me to help you get upstairs?”
“Not necessary, but I’d like you to come back tonight. We need to talk.”
“You keep saying that, but we never talk.”
“Life keeps interfering,” Ranger said.
“Can Bob sleep on the bed?”
“Yes. But I don’t want to see you in pajamas.”
Fair enough. I could sleep in sweats or jeans or a suit of armor.
* * *
Nutsy was watching television when Bob and I entered the apartment. He was surrounded by chips bags, dirty dishes, and empty soda cans. Lula was in the kitchen, drinking wine out of the bottle.
“I just had a fright,” Lula said. “Grendel almost got me. After I left the office, I went to my apartment to check things out. The tape is gone from the building, and nobody is living there yet, but you could see that people had been working to clean things up. I stepped inside to look around, and there was this horrible growl sound and Grendel jumped out at me. And then he said my name, and he reached for me, but I was already running out of the house.”
“You actually saw Grendel?”
Lula took another hit from the bottle of wine. “Yeah. It was dark in the house, but I could see that it was Grendel.”
“What did you do? Did you call the police?”
“No. I was in a state. I got in my car and took off, and when I drove away, I could see the outline of him standing in the doorway. He had a big bag in one hand, like a black garbage bag. I figured it was a sack that he was gonna use to kidnap me. And he was shaking his fist at me with the other hand. I tell you, my heart was racing, and all I could think of was getting back here in one piece. And here I am.” She looked around the kitchen. “I need food. I used up all my calories. I don’t suppose you brought pizza home with you? Maybe a meatball hoagie or a pork roll sandwich?”
“Nope. No takeout,” I said, “but there should be sandwich stuff in the fridge.”
Lula looked in the fridge. “It’s bare in here. I think Nutsy got hungry.”
“Not my problem,” I said. “I did my hostess thing and now you guys are on your own.”
“I don’t think Nutsy has any money,” Lula said. “And I spent all my money on beautification of our apartment.”
I looked into the living room. There were a lot of green plants positioned around the room and a bunch of colorful pillows on the couch.
“Hey, Nutsy,” Lula yelled. “Get away from my pillows with those chips. If I see chip crumbs on my new pillows, I won’t be happy. And for God’s sake clean up your mess. It’s like you’re a farm animal. And put some pants on. I don’t give a rat’s ass even if you are a clown. I don’t have men sitting around in my house in their undershorts. Have some class.”
“I need information on Stump,” I said to Nutsy. “What was he wearing the night he was shot? Did he have a belt with a buckle? Was he wearing jewelry? A watch?”
“Who’s Stump?” Lula asked. “Why was he shot?”
I brought Lula up to speed on Marcus and Stump.
“That’s too bad about Ranger’s nose,” Lula said. “He had a perfect nose. I hope he’s not disfigured. And it explains the bloodstains on your T-shirt.”
“I didn’t get to see much of Stump,” Nutsy said. “He had his back to me. And I never paid a lot of attention to what he was wearing.”
“Seems to me we need to find Marcus,” Lula said. “We should go to the train station and see if he’s still there. And we could order something from Pino’s as long as we’re out.”