'That's a pretty rough bar. I didn't know they had bands,' I said to Lula.
'We're the first. They're trying something new. They said they wanted to expand their clientele.'
'I hope Sally isn't going in drag to that bar.'
'He's got a dress that's like mine only his is in red on account of he don't look good in gold. People be disappointed if Sally wasn't in drag. That's his thing. He's famous for his accessorizing.'
Salvatore Sweet is a good friend in a constant state of reinvention. He's played lead guitar with a bunch of bands. The Funky Butts, the Pitts, Beggar Boys, and Howling Dogs. When I met him he was playing in drag for the first time with the Lovelies, and that was where he hit the jackpot. Actually, it was just a local jackpot, but it was more success than he'd ever seen. When the band broke up Sally continued to perform in drag. He's currently driving a school bus days and playing guitar nights. His bands are always a collection of misfits. Good musicians most of the time who for one reason or another don't fit in anywhere else. In a bizarre way, Lula would be a perfect addition.
'If he goes in drag to the Hole he's going to be accessorizing in the hospital,' Connie said.
'Something to think about,' Lula said.
I glanced out the front window at the SUV. 'Does she ever get out?' I asked Connie. 'Just to stretch? Walk around?'
'I haven't seen her out since that first time when she came into the office looking for you.'
'I have a sick stomach over this Ranger thing,' I told Connie. 'I think we should get some background on Julie Martine's mother and stepfather. And maybe you could poke around in Arlington. I'd like to know more about Ranger's business there.'
Ten minutes later, we were in Lula's car, on the way to Leon James's last known address, and I was on the phone with Morelli.
'I need some help,' I told him. 'I'd like to know the captures Ranger made through his Virginia office. And it would be helpful if I could get a photograph of the Virginia Ranger.'
'The captures I should be able to get for you. The photo will only happen if he has a mug shot or a Virginia driver's license.'
'Good enough. And remember, it's Friday, and we're expected for dinner at my parents' house.'
'I'll be there,' Morelli said.
Lula parked in front of a two-story brick row house in a neighborhood adjacent to the Burg. 'Here it is,' she said. 'This is the address on the file.'
Leon James had listed the house as his residence and had also used it to secure the bond. He was a penny-ante hitman, selling his services to anyone with a grudge. Usually evidence is scarce against him. And witnesses have been known to recant stories and occasionally to disappear. He was wanted for arson and attempted murder. He was a third-time offender, and this was going to be an ugly capture.
'How are we going to do this?' Lula wanted to know. 'This isn't a nice guy. He kills people and burns down houses.'
'I think we'll have to be tricky.'
'Yeah, tricky. I like the sound of that.'
'First thing, we need to get him out of his house and into someplace public. Then we need to distract him until we can get him cuffed.'
'Okay,' Lula said. 'I'm with you.'
'That's it. That's all I've got.'
'That's not much,' Lula said.
'Suppose one of us calls him and says she wants to hire him to do a job. And then she could set up a meeting.'
'Good thinking. That's going to be you doing the calling, right? You're a way better liar than I am.'
I cut my eyes to Lula. 'You're an excellent liar.'
'Maybe, but I gotta be saving myself for tonight. I can't afford to use my voice too much.'
'That is so lame,' I said to Lula.
'It's the best I could come up with.'
I punched Leon's number into my cell phone. 'I'd like to speak to Leon James,' I said to the guy who answered.
'Speaking.'
'I think I might need some help in solving a problem.'
'Un hunh.'
'You were recommended.'
'Oh yeah. Who recommended me?'
'Butchy.'
'I don't know any Butchy.'
'Well, he knows you. And he recommended you.'
'What sort of problem we talking about?'
'I don't want to say on the phone.'
'That sounds promising already,' James said.
'I was hoping we could meet somewhere. I need to solve this problem fast.'
'It'll cost you.'
'I don't care. Just solve my friggin' problem, okay?'
===OO=OOO=OO===
I'd agreed to meet Leon James in a small park in the Burg. The park wasn't much more than a patch of grass half a block in size. It had a couple trees and a couple benches and that was it. Once in a while an old guy would sit on a bench and soak up sun. And once in a while a couple kids would sit on a bench and smoke some weed. And once in a while someone would walk his dog in the park.
Lula and I had driven to Morelli's house and commandeered Bob. The plan was that I'd meet Leon James at the bench, and while we were talking, Lula would mosey by with Bob. Then when James was distracted, one of us would zap him with a stun gun.
I dropped Lula and Bob off on a side street, turned a corner, and parked not far from the bench. I walked to the bench and sat down with my purse in my lap. After five minutes a car pulled up behind Lula's Firebird, and James got out. He looked around, straightened his jacket, and walked toward me. It was eighty degrees out, and there was only one reason to be wearing a jacket.
James was five-foot-nine and stocky. The fact that he'd been caught numerous times for arson put him in the not-too-bright category. Arson is a respected profession among certain subcultures in Jersey, and the good ones don't get caught. The good ones channel lightning and mysterious acts of spontaneous combustion.
I fought stage fright as I watched James cut across the grass. My heart was racing, and I could feel panic sticking in my throat. Deep breath, I told myself. Be calm. Be cool.
'You looking for a problem solver?' James said, coming up to the bench.
'I might be.'
He sat down. 'What kind of problem you got?'
'A cheating husband.'
'And?'
'I'm told it would be cheaper to pay you to take care of the bastard than it would be to divorce him and lose half of everything.'
'Works for me.'
James was turned toward me, and I could see Lula and Bob coming up behind him. Bob was straining at the leash, wanting to run, but with Lula at the other end it was like pulling a refrigerator.
'Are you interested, or what?'
'Sure. I'm a professional. I don't need to know why. I just need to know you'll pay.'
'Good. Then it's settled. We just have to agree on a price.'
'I don't negotiate price. My price is fixed. Ten big ones. Five now and five when the job is completed.'
'Nobody told me that part,' I said. 'I don't have a lot of money on me.'
'Then you have a problem.'
'Do you take credit cards?'
'Lady, I'm not the Gap.'
'How about a check?'
'How about cash,' he said.
'Wait a minute, let me think. I just have to go to the bank. Can you wait while I go to the bank?'
'Sorry, no can do. I have a visibility problem.'
Lula was about twenty feet away, and Bob was chugging like a freight train, pulling against his collar, trying to get to me.
James turned to see what was making all that noise behind him, I slipped the stun gun out of my bag, pushed the button, and the little on light didn't go on.
James turned back to me and saw the stun gun. 'What the fuck?'
I looked at Lula in utter panic.
Lula let go of Bob's leash. Bob bounded over and took a flying leap for me, knocking me off the bench. James reached for his gun. And Lula roundhoused James on the side of the head with her purse. I still had the stun gun in my hand and suddenly the light bl
inked on. I shoved Bob out of the way, scrambled to grabbing distance of James, and caught him in the ankle with the prongs of the stun gun. James squeaked, slumped over, and slid to the ground.
I flopped over and lay spread-eagle on my back, hand to my heart for a moment. I was breathing hard, and I was leaking nervous fear, sweating in places I didn't think had sweat glands.
'What the heck was that?' Lula wanted to know. 'You had a expression on your face like you just had an irritable bowel experience.'
I looked at the stun gun. The light was off again. 'Low battery,' I said.
'Don't you hate when that happens?'
'What have you got in your purse? It sounded like you hit him with a frying pan.'
'I got my gun in there. And I got a couple rolls of quarters for meters. And I got a Maglite. And a stun gun. And cuffs.' She pulled the cuffs out and handed them to me. 'I guess you should cuff him, except it seems like a shame to ruin Bob's fun.'
Bob was jumping around on James, trying to get him to play. He'd snuffle James, and then he'd jump up and land on James with all four feet and do a growly thing, and then he'd jump around some more.
'Gonna be hard to explain all those muddy Bob-sized footprints on him,' Lula said. 'Gonna be even harder to explain all the dog slobber on his crotch.'
I dragged Bob off, and I cuffed James behind his back and stood. 'Do you have any shackles?'
'I got shackles in the trunk,' Lula said. 'You babysit, and I'll go get them.'
James moaned and sucked in some air and squinted up at me. 'Fuck. What happened?'
'Bond enforcement,' I said. 'Lula hit you with her purse.'
He sat up and looked at his slacks.
'What's all over my pants? Why are my pants wet?'
'Lula fell in love,' I told him. I thought that would put him in a better mood than telling him it was Bob slime.
Six
'Are we hot, or what?' Lula said. 'We captured Leon James.'
We'd done a drive-through at Cluck-in-a-Bucket to celebrate our success, and then we'd processed James, picked up our body receipt, and now we were back in the office.
Connie was smiling. 'The morning was a downer, but the rest of the day was good. That was a big bond. And it turns out Melvin Pickle is a filing demon.'
Bob was sitting on my foot, pressing his body against my leg. He'd gone for a walk, eaten two pieces of chicken, slurped up a bowl of water, and now he was ready to nap.
'I'm taking Bob home,' I told Connie. 'If any information comes in on Ranger give me a call on my cell.'
'Yeah, and I'm going home too,' Lula said. 'I gotta get ready for tonight.'
'We have another batch of job applicants coming in tomorrow,' Connie said. 'Starting at nine o'clock.'
I loaded Bob into the back seat of the Mini and rolled the window down so he could stick his head out. The car was wall-to-wall dog, but Bob looked happy on the cushy leather.
I turned the engine over and moved into the stream of traffic with my eyes on Carmen, expecting her to follow. When I stopped for the light at the corner, the SUV was still at the curb, no sign of life. Carmen had probably fallen asleep at the wheel. Or maybe she'd gone for a walk. Or maybe she was in a second car, using the SUV as a decoy. I wound through the Burg watching my rearview mirror for a tail. No tail appeared, so I drove to Morelli's.
I deposited Bob in the house, locked up, and got back into the Mini. I motored the short distance to my apartment, parked, and rode the elevator with Mrs Bestler.
'How was your day, dear?' she asked, pressing the button for the second floor.
'Very good. And yours?'
'My day was excellent. I visited the chiropodist this morning. That's always exciting.' The doors opened, and Mrs Bestler sang out, 'Second floor, ladies lounge.'
Here's the thing about my apartment: no matter how chaotic my day has been, my apartment is usually calm and silent. There was a time when my answering machine would be filled with messages when I came home, but my answering machine broke and was never replaced, so now everyone calls my cell. Rex is happy about this, since no one disturbs him while he's sleeping. I don't cook, so the kitchen is never messy My furnishings are sparse, since the clutter went up in flames with the fire. And the bathroom doesn't count. The bathroom is always a wreck.
I filled Rex's food dish with hamster crunchies, a peanut, a green bean, and a piece of pretzel. I gave him fresh water. I said 'hello.'
Rex backed out of his soup can, stuffed the green bean and pretzel into his cheek, and rushed back into his can.
It was four o'clock, and I had to be at my parents' house at six. I turned my computer on and surfed the net for news of Ranger. I went to the site for missing children and I visited some of the news sites. No information beyond what was initially released.
Vinnie belongs to PBUS. Professional Bail Agents of the United States. PBUS shares information and loosely links agencies nationwide. A couple months ago a Virginia agency needed help locating a guy who'd skipped out of their area and was believed to be in Trenton. I found the guy and held him until the agency could get someone to Trenton to take possession. I had a business card from John Nash, the agent who collected the FTA, and I thought he might be willing to do me a favor.
I emailed Nash and asked if he knew anything about Ranger. Bail bonds is a small world. Agents know when new competition pops up in their neighborhood.
I ran through my spam box and deleted sixty-four ads for penis enhancement, seventeen ads for animal porn sites, and two ads for cheap credit.
Beautification was next on my list. I jumped into the shower, did what I could to improve on nature by way of makeup and hair gel, got dressed in my best jeans and sexy little shirt, and took off for my parents' house.
Morelli arrived a beat after I did.
'Everyone to the table,' my mother said. 'Stephanie, you get the mashed potatoes from the kitchen.'
Dinner in my parents' house happens precisely at six o'clock. Five minutes late, and it could all be ruined. Burned pot roast, cold potatoes, overcooked green beans. A disaster of biblical proportions.
My father was first to sit. He had his fork in hand and his attention focused on the kitchen door, waiting for my mother to emerge with the pot roast. Grandma Mazur set the beans on the table and took her place across from Morelli and me. My mother followed with the meat, and we all dug in.
If a man attended enough pot roast dinners in the presence of a single woman and her family, it was a marriage in the eyes of the Burg, if not God. And Morelli was dangerously close to marriage by pot roast. There's a part of me that likes the comfortable intimacy between Morelli and me at the table. I like the way his knee snuggles against mine. And I like the way he accepts my family. And I like the way he looks with a glass of red wine in his hand, relaxed and confident, his dark eyes not missing anything. In fact, there isn't a lot not to like about Morelli. So the hesitancy I have to commit is confusing. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I'm horribly attracted to Ranger. Not that I would ever commit to Ranger. Ranger is an accident waiting to happen. Still, the heat is there.
'I was talking to Merle Greber today,' Grandma Mazar said. 'She lives two houses down from Mary Lee Truk, and she said Mary Lee's feeling much better. I guess she's got the hot flashes under control. And the stitches came out on her husband's behind from where she stabbed him, and word is he's thinking about dropping the charges against her and moving back home. Merle said, only problem now is it looks like Mary Lee's putting on weight.'
The unfortunate result of acquiring happiness at the bakery.
'Anyone hear anything about that little girl who was kidnapped?' Grandma asked.
'She's still missing,' I said.
'People are saying Ranger took her. I hope for her sake that's true, because he wouldn't hurt her. It's still a terrible thing.'
We all lapsed into silence after that. Not that silence was abnormal at my parents' table. We tended not to multitask body functions. W
hen we sat down to eat, we got to it.
===OO=OOO=OO===
'Oh man, you're kidding,' Morelli said. 'You want me to do what?'
It was eight-thirty, and we were walking Bob around Morelli's neighborhood, so Bob could do one last tinkle.
'I want you to go to the Hole with me. Lula's singing there tonight, and I feel like I should be supportive. And I thought it wouldn't hurt to have an armed cop in the room.'
'Lula can't sing. I've heard her sing. She's tone-deaf.'
'Yeah, but she looks good in her dress.' As long as she doesn't bend over. 'And she's singing with Sally Sweet and his band. None of them can sing. They just play loud enough to drown themselves out.'
'I had plans for tonight,' Morelli said.
'Would those be the same plans you had for last night?'
'The basic plan is the same, but I have a few variations I thought I'd throw in.'
'Look on the positive side. You could try to get me liquored up at the Hole, and I might come up with some of my own variations. I'm an animal when I'm liquored up.'
Morelli smiled at me. 'Good point.'
'Did you have any luck getting information for me on Ranger?'
'No photo. He doesn't have a Virginia driver's license. And no captures on record. Sorry.'
That's okay. I suspected there wouldn't be anything, but I thought it was worth a try.'
'What about the woman? Have you talked to her?' Morelli asked.
'Carmen? I can hear her release the safety on her Glock when I get within two feet of her.'
'Do you want me to roust her?'
'No. At least this way I know where to find her. And as long as there's distance between us, I don't think she's dangerous. She's not exactly a sharpshooter.'
We took Bob back to the house, locked up, and headed off in Morelli's SUV. Morelli used to have a truck, but he traded it in so Bob could ride with him and be more comfy in bad weather.
The Hole was on Third, in an area top-loaded with bars and pawnshops and adult video stores. Sandwiched between the bottom-feeder businesses were bedraggled drug stores, convenience stores, rooming houses, and fast-food franchises.
Morelli drove around three blocks, looking for a parking space, finding none. He turned into the alley behind the Hole and found a space reserved for employees.
Plum 12 - Twelve Sharp Page 6
