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We both looked at the house.
“Do you want to search the house?” Vinnie asked.
It was a big Victorian. I'd been in houses like this before, and they were filled with closets and hallways and closed doors. Good houses for hiding. Bad houses for searching. Especially for a chickenshit like me. Now that I was out in the air, sanity was returning. And the longer I was out walking around, the less I wanted to find the rabbit.
“I think I'll pass on the house.”
“Good call,” Vinnie said. “Easy to get your head blown off in a house like this. Of course, that wouldn't figure into the equation for you, because you're so freaking nuts. You've gotta stop watching those old Al Capone movies.”
“You should talk. What about the time you shot up Pinwheel Soba's house? You just about destroyed it.”
Vinnie's face creased into a smile. “I got lost in the moment.”
We walked back to the car with guns still drawn, staying alert to sounds and movement. Half a block from the convenience store, we saw smoke billowing from the other side of the brick building. The smoke was black and acrid, smelling like burning rubber. The sort of smoke you get when a car catches fire.
Sirens were wailing in the distance, and I had another one of those parakeet-flying-away feelings. Dread in the pit of my stomach. It was followed by a rush of calm that signaled the arrival of denial. It couldn't possibly be happening. Not another car. Not Ranger's car. It had to be someone else's car. I started making deals with God. Let it be the Explorer, I suggested to God, and I'll be a better person. I'll go to church. I'll eat more vegetables. I'll stop abusing the shower massage.
We turned the corner and, sure enough, Ranger's car was burning. Okay, that's it, I told God. All deals are off.
“Holy crap,” Vinnie said. “That's your car. That's the second CR-V you've burned up this week. This might set a new record for you.”
The clerk was standing outside, watching the spectacle. “I saw the whole thing,” he said. “It was a big rabbit. He rushed into the store and got a can of barbecue starter fuel. And then he poured it in the black car and lit a match to it. Then he drove away in the green SUV.”
I holstered my gun, and I sat on the cement apron in front of the store. Bad enough the car was totaled, my bag had been in it. My credit cards, my driver's license, my lip gloss, my defense spray, and my new cell phone were all gone. And I'd left the keys in the ignition. And the keypad to my security system was hooked onto the key ring.
Vinnie sat next to me. “I always have a good time when I go out with you,” Vinnie said. “We should do this more often.”
“Do you have your cell phone on you?”
Morelli was the first number I dialed, but Morelli wasn't home. I hung my head. Ranger was next on the list.
“Yo,” Ranger said when he answered.
“Small problem.”
“No kidding. Your car just went off the screen.”
“It sort of burned up.”
Silence.
“And you know that keypad you gave me? It was in the car.”
“Babe.”
VINNIE AND I were still sitting on the curb when Ranger arrived. Ranger was dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt and boots, and he looked almost normal. He glanced at the smoldering car, then he looked at me and shook his head. The head shake was actually more the suggestion of a head shake. I didn't want to try to guess the thought that prompted the head shake. I didn't imagine it would be good. He spoke to one of the cops and gave him a card. Then he collected Vinnie and me and brought us back to my apartment building. Vinnie got into his Caddie and took off.
Ranger smiled and gestured to the gun on my hip. “Looking good, babe. Did you shoot anyone today?”
“I tried.”
He gave a soft laugh, crooked his arm around my neck, and kissed me just above my ear.
Hector was waiting for us in the hall. Hector looked like he should be wearing an orange jumpsuit and leg irons. But hey, what do I know? Probably Hector is a real nice guy. Probably he doesn't know that a teardrop under the eye signifies a gang kill. And even if he does know, it's only one teardrop, so it's not like he's a serial killer, right?
Hector gave Ranger a new keypad, and he said something in Spanish. Ranger said something back, they did one of those complicated handshakes, and Hector left.
Ranger beeped my door open and went in with me. “Hector's already been through. He said the apartment is clean.” He put the keypad on the kitchen counter. “The new keypad is programmed exactly like the last.”
