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I was in the process of selecting a piece of fruit when I heard the lock tumble on the front door. I slipped the bolt back and opened the door to Ranger.
He tossed his keys into the dish and rifled through the mail, not opening any. 'How was your day?' he asked.
'Good. You were right about Rodriguez. He was open for business at the bar on Third and Laramie.' I didn't have to say more. I was sure Ranger had already gotten a full report.
'Who's getting married?'
'Valerie.'
There was a knock at the door, and Ella came in with a food tray.
'Would you like me to set the table?' she asked.
'Not necessary,' Ranger said. 'You can just leave the tray in the kitchen.'
Ella swept past us, deposited the food, and returned to the front foyer.
Ts there anything else?' she asked.
'No,' Ranger said. 'We're good for the night. Thank you.'
I couldn't believe the big bad Special Forces survival nut lived like this. Clothes washed and ironed, bed made, gourmet food delivered daily.
Ranger locked the door after Ella and followed me into the kitchen. 'This is ruining my image, isn't it?' Ranger said.
'All this time, I thought you were so tough. I imagined you sleeping on a dirt floor somewhere.'
He uncovered one of the dishes. There were years like that.'
Ella'd brought us roasted vegetables, wild rice, and chicken in a lemon sauce. We filled plates and ate at the counter, sitting on bar stools.
I finished my chicken and looked over at the silver tray. 'No dessert?'
Ranger pushed back from the counter. 'Sorry, I don't eat dessert.
Where are you keeping your Slayer?'
'Vinnie's house in Point Pleasant.'
'Who knows about this?'
'Connie, Lula, and me.'
He reached across, unzipped my sweatshirt, and released the
Velcro tabs on the vest. 'This isn't going to help you, Babe,' he said.
'Junkman shot his last two victims in the head.'
I removed the sweatshirt and the vest and put the sweatshirt back on. It had stopped raining, but it had gotten cooler.
Ranger dialed Ella and told her we were leaving. He got a utility belt and sweatshirt from the dressing room. The black nylon web belt carried a gun, a stun gun, pepper spray, cuffs, and a Maglite, plus ammo. We left the apartment, locked up, and took the elevator. There were two men waiting in the garage. I knew them both. Tank and Hal. They took a black Ford Explorer, and Ranger and I took the Porsche Turbo. Ranger was wearing the sweatshirt.
The belt was in the back.
We rolled out of the garage and cut over to Broad. It was a dark, moonless night. The cloud cover was low, threatening more rain.
The SUV's headlights stayed constant behind us. Ranger was silent, driving relaxed, his sweatshirt sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms, his watch catching the occasional light from overhead streetlights.
