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“I need some kind of an alarm,” I told the kid at the register. “Nothing fancy. Just something that tells me when my front door gets opened. And stop staring at my chin!”
“I wasn't staring at your chin. Honest! I didn't even notice that big zit.”
A half-hour later I was on my way to the office to get Bob. Sitting in a little bag, on the seat beside me, was a small motion detector gizmo for my front door. I told myself it was necessary for general security, but truth is, I knew it had one purpose: to alert me whenever Ranger broke in to my apartment. And why did I feel the need for the gizmo? Did it have anything to do with fear? No. Although there were times when Ranger could be scary. Did it have to do with distrust? Nope. I trusted Ranger. The fact is, I got the gizmo because just once I wanted to have the advantage. It was driving me nuts that Ranger could get into my apartment without even waking me.
I stopped at Cluck-in-a-Bucket and got a barrel of chicken nuggets for lunch. I figured that was best for Bob. No bones to hork up.
Everyone's eyes got bright when I walked through the door with my barrel of nuggets.
“Bob and me were just thinking about chicken,” Lula said. “You must have read our minds.”
I took the lid off the barrel, set the lid on the floor, and dumped a bunch of nuggets onto it for Bob. I took a nugget for myself and handed the rest off to Lula and Connie. Then I called my cousin Bunny at the credit bureau.
“What have you got on Cynthia Lotte?” I asked Bunny.
A minute later she was back with the answer. “Not much here,” she said. “A recent car loan. Pays her bills on time. No derogatory information. Lives in Ewing.” The phone went silent for a couple beats. “What are you looking for?”
“I don't know. She works for Dickie.”
“Oh.” As if that explained it all.
I got Lotte's address and phone and said adios to Bunny.
The next person I called was Morelli. None of his numbers picked up so I left a message on his pager.
“That's funny,” Lula said. “Didn't you put those nuggets on the bucket lid? I can't find that bucket lid anywhere.”
We all looked at Bob. He had a small piece of cardboard stuck to his lip.
“Dang,” Lula said. “He makes me look like an amateur.”
“So, do you notice anything unusual about me?” I asked.
“Only that you got a big zit on your chin. Must be that time of the month, huh?”
“It's stress!” I stuck my head in my shoulder bag and looked for concealer. Flashlight, hairbrush, lipstick, Juicy Fruit gum, stun gun, tissues, hand lotion, pepper spray. No concealer.
“I've got a Band-Aid,” Connie said. “You could try to cover it with a Band-Aid.”
I stuck the Band-Aid over the pimple.
“That's better,” Lula said. “Now it looks like you cut yourself shaving.”
Great.
“Before I forget,” Connie said, “a call came in about Ranger while you were on the phone with the credit bureau. There's a warrant written for his arrest in connection with the Ramos murder.”
“How does the warrant read?” I asked.
“Wanted for questioning.”
“That's how it started with O.J.,” Lula said. “They just wanted him for questioning. And look how that turned out.”
I wanted to check on Hannibal's town house, but I didn't want to drag Mitchell and Habib over with me.
“I need a diversion,” I said to Lula. “I need to get rid of those guys in the carpet car.”
“Do you mean you want to get rid of them? Or do you mean you don't want them following you?”
