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“If I don't get paid until tomorrow the price will have to go up.”
“Listen, Gruber, I've had a very bad day. Don't push me. I'm a woman on the edge.” I hit the “on” button on the stun gun. “Is this thing live? Maybe I should test it on someone.”
“Women,” Gruber said to Mooner. “Can't live with them. Can't live without them.”
“Could you move a little to the left?” Mooner asked. “You're blocking the television, dude, and Jeannie's gonna blink Major Nelson.”
I BORROWED A two-year-old jeep Cherokee from Dougie. It was one of four cars left unsold because their registration and bill of sale had gotten misplaced. I'd found jeans and a T-shirt that sort of fit. And I'd borrowed a lined denim jacket and clean socks from Mooner. Neither Dougie nor Mooner had a washer or dryer and neither was a crossdresser, so what I was missing was underwear. I had my cuffs looped over the back of my jeans. The rest of my equipment was stuffed into the jacket's assorted pockets.
I drove to the lot behind Vinnie's office and parked. The rain had stopped and the air felt warm with the promise of spring. It was very dark, no stars or moon showing through the cloud cover. There was room behind the office for four cars to park. So far, mine was the only one there. I was early. Probably not as early as Ranger. He'd undoubtedly seen me arrive and was watching from somewhere to make sure the meeting was safe. Standard operating procedure.
I was watching the alley that led to the small lot when Ranger rapped softly on my window.
“Damn!” I said. “You scared the bejeezus out of me. You shouldn't sneak up on a person like that.”
“You should keep your back to the wall, babe.” He opened my door. “Take your jacket off.”
“I'll be cold.”
“Take it off and hand it to me.”
“You don't trust me.”
He smiled.
I took the jacket off and handed it over.
“Lot of hardware in here,” he said.
“The usual.”
“Get out of the car.”
This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. I hadn't counted on losing my jacket so soon. “I'd rather you got in. It's warmer in here.”
“Get out.”
I gave a big sigh and got out.
He put his hand to the small of my back, dipped his fingers below the waistband of my jeans, and removed the cuffs.
“Let's go inside,” he said. “I feel safer in there.”
“Just out of morbid curiosity, do you know how to get around the alarm, or do you know the security code?”
He opened the back door. “I know the code.”
We walked through the short hall to the back room where the guns and office supplies are kept. Ranger opened the door to the front room and ambient light from the street poured in through the plate-glass windows. Standing between the two rooms, he was able to see both doors.
He put my jacket and the cuffs on a file cabinet, out of my reach, and looked down at the hacksawed bracelet on my right wrist. “New design.”
“But still annoying.”
He took the key out of his pocket, unlocked the cuff, and threw the cuff on top of my jacket. Then he took both my hands in his and turned them palms up. “You're wearing someone else's clothes, you're carrying someone else's gun, your hands are cut, and you're not wearing underwear. What's the deal here?”
I looked down at the outline of breast and protruding nipple, straining against the confines of the T-shirt. “Sometimes I go without underwear.”
“You never go without underwear.”
