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Ranger's bathr
oom. Not a pretty sight, I decided. The fat had to go.
I showered and got dressed, borrowing a black T-shirt from
Ranger. The T-shirt was nice and roomy and hid the fat roll.
It had been easy to find the T-shirt. It was perfectly folded and stacked on a shelf, along with twenty other perfectly folded black
T-shirts. It had been easy to find the hooded sweatshirt I'd previously borrowed. The hooded sweatshirt had been perfectly folded and stacked on a shelf, along with six other perfectly folded black hooded sweatshirts. Doubly impressive because it's damn hard to perfectly fold a hooded sweatshirt. I counted thirteen black cargo pants, thirteen black jeans, thirteen perfectly ironed long-sleeved black shirts that matched the cargo pants. Black cashmere blazer, black leather jacket, black jeans jacket, three black suits, six black silk shirts, three lightweight black cashmere sweaters.
I started opening drawers. Black dress socks, black and dark gray sweat socks. Assorted black athletic clothes. There was a small safe and a locked drawer. I was guessing the locked drawer held guns.
None of this especially interested me. The ugly truth is, I'd finally lost the fight for dignity, and I was searching for Ranger's underwear. Not that I was going to do anything kinky with it. I just wanted to see what he wore. Hell, I thought I'd shown a lot of restraint to have gone this long without snooping.
I'd now searched the entire dressing room, and unless Ranger kept his underwear in his safe, it appeared to me that he went commando.
I did one of those stupid fanning motions with my hands that women used to do in movies back in the forties to signify heat. I had no idea why I did it. It did nothing to cool me off. I was thinking about Ranger in his black cargo pants, and my face felt sunburned. I had other body parts that were pretty warm, too.
I had one drawer left. I slowly opened the drawer and peeked inside. A single pair of black silk boxers. Just one pair. What the heck did that mean?
I was feeling a little perverted, so I carefully closed the drawer, went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, and let the cold air wash over me.
I looked down and couldn't see my toes past my belly. Mental groan. 'No more junky breakfast cereal,' I told Rex. 'No more doughnuts, chips, pizza, ice cream, or beer.'
Rex was in his soup can so it was hard to tell what he thought of the plan.
I got the coffee going, fixed myself a small bowl of Rangers cereal, and added skim milk. I like this cereal, I told myself. This is delicious. And it would be even more delicious with some sugar and chocolate. I finished the cereal and poured out a mug of coffee. I took the coffee into the den, and I turned the television on.
By noon I was bored with television, and the apartment was starting to feel claustrophobic. I hadn't heard a word from Morelli, and I took that as a bad sign both romantically and professionally.
I dialed his cell and held my breath while it rang.
'What?' Morelli said.
'It's Stephanie. I'm just checking in.'
Silence.
'Since I haven't heard from you I'm assuming you don't have
Ward.'
'We've been watching the brother's house, but so far Anton's a no-show.'
'You're watching the wrong house. You need to get to him through the girlfriend.'
'I don't have any leverage with the girlfriend.'
'I do. The girlfriends mother used her house as collateral on the bond. I can threaten the mother with foreclosure.'
More silence. 'You could have told me this yesterday,' he finally said.
1 was sulking.'
'Good thing you're cute when you sulk. What's the plan?'
`I'll visit the mother and apply some pressure. I'll pass whatever information I get on to you, and you can do the takedown.'
