Hot Six (8 page)

Hot Six

Page: 44

He looked up at the tree. "Is your cat still there?" Not sounding like he believed a word of it.

"I think he jumped when I fell. "

Hannibal Ramos was California tan and couch-potato soft. I'd seen photos of him so I wasn't surprised. What I hadn't expected was the exhaustion in his face. But then, he'd just lost a brother, and that had to be taking a toll. His brown hair was thin and receding. His eyes were assessing behind tortoiseshell glasses. He was wearing gray suit slacks that were badly in need of pressing, and a white dress shirt, open at the collar, also rumpled. Mr. Average Businessman after a hard day at the office. I guessed he was in his early forties and a couple years away from a quadruple bypass.

"And I suppose he ran away?" Ramos said.

"God, I hope not. I'm tired of chasing after him. " I am the best liar. Sometimes I amaze even myself.

Hannibal opened the door to the fence and gave the bike path a cursory glance. "Bad news. I don't see a cat. "

I looked over Hannibal's shoulder. "Here, kitty, kitty, " I called. I was feeling pretty stupid now, but there was no place to go with this but forward.

"You know what I think?" Hannibal said. "I think there's no cat. I think you were in that tree spying on me. "

I gave him a look of total incredulity. Like . . . Oh, duh? "Listen, " I said, scooting around him to the door. "I've got to go. I need to find my cat. "

"What color is it?"

"Black. "

"Good luck. "

I looked under a couple bushes en route to the bike path. "Here kitty, kitty. "

"Maybe you should give me your name and phone number in case I find him, " Hannibal said.

Our eyes locked for a couple beats, and my heart stumbled in my chest.

"No, " I told him. "I don't think I want to do that. " And then I left, walking in the opposite direction I came.

I exited the bike path and circled the block to get to my car. I crossed the street and stood in the shadows for a few minutes, looking at Hannibal's house, wondering about the man. If I'd seen him on the street I'd have pegged him as an insurance salesman. Or maybe middle management in corporate America. That he was the crown prince of black market arms wouldn't occur to me.

A light blinked on in an upstairs window. The crown prince was probably changing into something more comfortable. Too early for bed, and the lights were still on downstairs. I was about to leave when a car cruised down the street and turned into Hannibal's driveway.

Woman at the wheel. Couldn't see her face. The driver's door opened and a long, stocking-clad leg swung out, followed by a killer body in a dark suit. Short blond hair. Briefcase under her arm.

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This idiot, that's who.

I went up the tree as quietly as possible. Easier this time. I knew where I was going. I found my perch and got the binoculars out. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to see. Hannibal and his caller were in the front room. I could see a slice of Hannibal's back, but the woman was out of view. After a few minutes there was the distant sound of Hannibal's front door closing and of a car driving off.

Hannibal walked into the kitchen, got a knife from a drawer, and used it to open an envelope. He took a letter out and read it. Had no reaction. He carefully returned the letter to the envelope and put the envelope on his kitchen counter.

He looked at the kitchen window, seemingly lost in thought. Then he moved to the patio door, slid it open and stared out at the tree. I froze in place, not daring to breathe. He can't see me, I thought. It's dark in the tree. Don't move and he'll go back inside. Wrong, wrong, wrong. His hand came up from his side, a flashlight snapped on, and I was caught.

"Here kitty, kitty, " I said, shielding my eyes with my hand to see past the light.

He raised his other arm, and I saw the gun.

"Get down, " he said, walking toward me. "Slowly. "

Yeah, right. I flew from the tree, breaking branches on the way, landing with my feet already running.

Zing. The unmistakable sound of a bullet being fired through a silencer.

I don't ordinarily think of myself as fast, but I moved down that path at the speed of light. I went straight to the car, jumped inside, and roared off.

I checked the mirror several times to make sure I wasn't being followed. Closer to my apartment I drove down Makefield, turned at the corner, cut my lights, and waited. No car in sight. I popped the lights back on and noticed my hands had almost stopped shaking. I decided that was a good sign and headed for home.

When I turned into my parking lot, I caught Morelli in my lights. He was lounging against his 4X4, arms crossed over his chest, feet crossed at the ankles. I locked the Buick and walked over to him. His expression changed from bored calm to grim curiosity.

"Back to driving the Buick?" he asked.

"For a while. "

He looked me over head to toe and picked a pine sprig out of my hair. "I'm afraid to ask, " he said.

"Surveillance. "

"You're all sticky. "

"Sap. I was in a pine tree. "

He grinned. "I hear they're hiring at the button factory. "

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"Oh, man, don't tell me you're spying on Ramos. He's a real bad guy. "

"He doesn't look bad. He looks ordinary. " He had, until he pointed the gun at me.

"Don't underestimate him. He runs the Ramos empire. "

"I thought his father did that. "

"Hannibal manages the day-to-day business. Rumor has it the old man is sick. He's always been volatile, but a source tells me his behavior is increasingly erratic, and the family has hired baby-sitters to make sure he doesn't just wander away, never to be seen again. "

"Alzheimer's?"

Morelli shrugged. "Don't know. "

I glanced down and realized my knee was scraped and bleeding.

"You could become an accessory to something ugly by helping Ranger, " Morelli said.

"Who, me?"

"Did you tell him to get in touch with me?"

"I didn't get a chance. Besides, if you're leaving messages on his pager, he's getting them. He just doesn't want to answer. "Morelli pulled me flat against him. "You smell like a pine forest. "

"Must be the sap. "

He put his hands to my waist and kissed me at the base of my neck. "Very sexy. "

Morelli thought everything was sexy.

"Why don't you come back to the house with me?" he said. "I'll kiss your skinned knee and make it all better. "

Tempting. "What about Grandma?"

"She'll never notice. She's probably sound asleep. "

A second-story window opened in the apartment building. My window. And Grandma stuck her head out. "Is that you, Stephanie? And who's that with you? Is that Joe Morelli?"

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"What are you standing out there for?" Grandma wanted to know. "Why don't you come in and have some dessert? We stopped at the supermarket on the way home from the viewing, and I bought a layer cake. "

"Thanks, " Joe said, "but I have to be getting home. I have an early shift tomorrow. "

"Wow, " I said, "passing up layer cake!"

"I'm not hungry for cake. "

My pelvic muscles contracted.

"Well, I'm cutting a piece for myself, " Grandma said. "I'm starved. Viewings always make me hungry. " The window closed, and Grandma disappeared.

"You're not coming home with me, are you?" Morelli said.

"Do you have cake?"

"I've got something better. "

This was true. I knew it for a fact.

The window opened again, and Grandma stuck her head out. "Stephanie, you've got a phone call. Do you want me to tell him to call back later?"

Morelli raised his eyebrows. "Him?"

Both of us thinking, Ranger.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Some guy named Brian. "

"Must be Brian Simon, " I said to Morelli. "I had to whine at him to get a deal for Carol Zabo. "

"This is about Carol Zabo?"

"God, I hope so. " That, or Brian Simon was calling in his marker. "I'll be right there, " I yelled to Grandma. "Get his number, and tell him I'll call him back. "

"You're breaking my heart, " Morelli said.

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"In a couple days I'll be gnawing my arm off. "

"That's pretty serious. "

"Don't ever doubt it, " Morelli said. He kissed me, and I didn't doubt anything. He had his hand under my shirt, and his tongue deep in my mouth . . . And I heard someone give a wolf whistle.

Mrs. Fine and Mr. Morgenstern were hanging out their windows, whistling, drawn to the shouting between Grandma and me. They both started clapping and making hooting sounds.

Mrs. Benson opened her window. "What's going on?" she wanted to know.

"Sex in the parking lot, " Mr. Morgenstern said.

Morelli looked at me speculatively. "It's possible. "

I turned and ran for the door and sprinted up the stairs. I cut myself a piece of cake, and then I called Simon.

"What's up?" I said.

"I need a favor. "

"I don't do phone sex, " I said.

"It's not phone sex. Cripes, what made you think that?"

"I don't know. It just popped out. "

"It's about my dog. I have to go out of town for a couple days, and I don't have anybody to take care of my dog. So since you owe me a favor . . . "

"I live in an apartment! I can't have a dog. "

"It's only for a couple days. And he's a real good dog. "

"What about a kennel?"

"He hates kennels. He won't eat. He gets all depressed. "

"What kind of dog is it?"

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Damn. "It's only for a couple days?"

"I'll drop him off tomorrow first thing in the morning and pick him up on Sunday. "

"I don't know. This isn't a good time. My grandmother is staying with me. "

"He loves old ladies. I swear to God. Your grandma will love him. "

I looked over at Rex. I'd hate to see him all depressed and not eating, so I guess I could understand how Simon felt about his dog. "Okay, " I said. "What time tomorrow?"

"Around eight?"

I OPENED MY eyes and wondered about the time. I was on the couch, it was pitch black out, and I smelled coffee. There was a moment of panicky disorientation. My eyes settled on the chair across from the couch, and I realized someone was sitting in it. A man. Hard to see in the dark. My breathing stopped altogether.

"How'd it go tonight?" he said. "Learn anything worthwhile?"

Ranger. No point asking how he'd gotten in when the windows and doors were closed and locked. Ranger had ways. "What time is it?"

"Three. "

"Has it occurred to you that some people sleep at this time of night?"

"It smells like a pine forest in here, " Ranger said.

"It's me. I was in the pine tree behind Hannibal's house, and I can't get the sap off. It's all stuck in my hair. "

I saw Ranger smile in the darkness. Heard him laugh softly.

I sat up. "Hannibal has a lady friend. She drove up at ten o'clock in a black BMW. She was with Hannibal for about ten minutes, gave him a letter, and left. "

"What's she look like?"

"Short blond hair. Slim. Nicely dressed. "

"Did you get the license plate?"

"Yeah. I wrote it down. Didn't get a chance to check it out yet. "

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"He sort of saw me. "

"Sort of?"

"I fell out of the tree into his backyard. "

The smile disappeared. "And?"

"And I told him I was looking for my cat, but I'm not sure he bought it. "

"If he knew you better . . . " Ranger said.

"Then the second time he caught me in the tree, he pulled a gun, so I jumped down and ran away. "

"Quick thinking. "

"Hey, " I said, tapping my finger to my head, "no grass growing here. "

Ranger was smiling again.

"I THOUGHT YOU didn't drink coffee, " I said to Ranger. "What about your body being a temple?"

He sipped at the coffee. "It's my disguise. It goes with the haircut. "

"Will you let your hair grow back?"

"Probably. "

"And then will you stop drinking coffee?"

"You ask a lot of questions, " Ranger said.

"Just trying to figure this out. "

He was slouched in the chair, one long leg extended, his arms on the arms of the chair, his eyes on me. He set his cup on the coffee table, rose from the chair, and stood over the couch. He bent and kissed me lightly on the lips. "Some things are better left a mystery, " he said. And then he moved to the door.

"Hey, wait a minute, " I said. "Am I supposed to keep watching Hannibal?"

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I gave him a pissy look in the dark.

"I see that, " he said.

"Morelli wants to talk to you. "

"I'll call him tomorrow, maybe. "

The front door opened and clicked shut. Ranger was gone. I padded to the door and looked out the peephole. No Ranger anywhere. I slid the security chain in place and went back to the couch. I fluffed up my pillow and crawled under the quilt.

And I thought about the kiss. What was I supposed to make of the kiss? Friendly, I told myself. It had been friendly. No tongue. No groping hands. No gnashing of teeth in uncontrollable passion. A friendly kiss. Only it hadn't felt friendly. It had felt . . . Sexy.

Damn!

"WHAT WOULD YOU like for breakfast?" Grandma asked. "How about some nice warm oatmeal?"

Left to my own devices, I'd have eaten the cake. "Sure, " I said, "oatmeal would be okay. "

I poured a cup of coffee, and there was a knock on the door. I opened the door, and a big orange thing rushed in.

"Holy cow!" I said. "What is it?"

"Golden retriever, " Simon said. "Mostly. "

"Isn't he big for a golden retriever?"

Simon dragged a fifty-pound bag of dog food into the foyer. "I got him at the pound, and that's what they told me. Golden retriever. "

"You said you had a small dog. "

"I lied. So sue me. "

The dog ran into the kitchen, stuck his nose in Grandma's crotch, and snuffled.

"Dang, " Grandma said. "Guess my new perfume really works. I'm gonna have to try it out at the seniors meeting. "

Simon pulled Bob away from Grandma and handed me a brown grocery bag. "Here's his stuff. Two dog bowls, some dog treats, a chew toy, a hairbrush and his pooper-scooper. "