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He picked the gun belt off the floor and stood. “I could have, but it wouldn't have been as interesting.” He kissed me lightly on the lips and walked to the doorway.

“Hey,” I said, “. . . about the deal. You were kidding, right?”

It was the second time I'd asked, and I got the same answer. A smile.

And now, here we were weeks later. Ranger still hadn't collected his fee, and I was in the undesirable position of negotiating more assistance. “Do you know about child custody bonds?” I asked him.

He inclined his head a fraction of an inch. This was the equivalent to intense nodding for Ranger. “Yes.”

“I'm looking for a mother and a little girl.”

“How old is the little girl?”

“Seven.”

“From the Burg?”

“Yes.”

“It's difficult to hide a seven-year-old,” Ranger said. “They peek out windows and stand in open doorways. If the child is in the Burg, word will get around. The Burg isn't good at keeping a secret.”

“I haven't heard anything. I have no leads. I have Connie running a computer check, but I won't get that back for a day or two.”

“Give me whatever information you have, and I'll ask around.”

I looked past Ranger and saw the Cadillac in the distance, cruising toward us. Bender was still behind the wheel. He slowed when he reached us, gave me the finger, and rolled away around the corner, out of sight.

“A friend of yours?” Ranger asked.

I opened the driver's side door to the CR-V. “I'm supposed to be capturing him.”

“And?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I could help you with that, too. We could run a tab for you.”

I sent him a grimace. “Do you know Eddie Abruzzi?”

Ranger removed a slice of pepperoni from my hair and picked some crushed potato chip crumbs off my T-shirt. “Abruzzi's not a nice guy. You want to stay away from Abruzzi.”

I was trying to ignore Ranger's hands on my chest. On the surface it seemed like innocent grooming. In the pit of my stomach it felt like sex. “Stop fondling me,” I said.

“Maybe you should get used to it, considering what you owe me.”

“I'm trying to have a conversation here! The missing mother is renting a house owned by Abruzzi. I sort of ran into him this morning.”

“Let me guess—you rolled on his lunch?”

I looked down at my shirt. “No. Lunch belongs to the guy who gave me the finger.”

“Where did you meet up with Abruzzi?”

“At the rental house. This is the weird thing . . . Abruzzi didn't want me in the house, and he didn't want me involved with Evelyn. I mean, what's it to him? This isn't even a significant property for him. And then he got really freaky about this being a military campaign and a war game.”

“Abruzzi makes his money primarily through loan sharking,” Ranger said. “Then he invests it in legitimate ventures like real estate. His hobby is war gaming. Do you know what that is?”

“No.”

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