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“You don’t scare me,” Tammy said.
So that was when I went to plan C and broke into my imitation of Julie Andrews, singing, “The hills are alive, with the sound of music. . . .”
Dr. Duffy almost immediately stuck his head out the door. “What the heck?”
“We’d like to talk to you for a moment,” I said. “Mr. Kaplan is very sorry he held you up, and he’d like to discuss his teeth.”
“I’m not sorry,” Mr. Kaplan said. “This office gives me a pain in my behind.”
“You aren’t armed, are you?” Dr. Duffy asked.
“No.”
“Come back to my office. I have a few minutes until my first appointment.”
Myron stuck his tongue out at Tammy, and we followed Dr. Duffy down a short corridor, past dental torture rooms.
“What would you like to discuss?” Dr. Duffy said, settling himself behind his desk.
“Do you still have Myron’s teeth?”
“The police have them. They’re evidence.”
“Can they be fixed so they fit him and they’re comfortable?”
“They seemed to fit him when he left my office.”
“They were fine, and then a week later, they were terrible,” Myron said.
“You should have made an appointment to get them rechecked,” Dr. Duffy said.
“I couldn’t get an appointment,” Myron said. “Your snippity secretary wouldn’t give me one.”
“It would be really great if you could drop the charges against Mr. Kaplan and fix his teeth,” I said to Duffy. “He’s not a bad guy. He just wants teeth. And for the record, your secretary is snippity.”
“I know she’s snippity,” Duffy said. “She’s my wife’s first cousin, and I can’t get rid of her. I’ll see what I can do about getting the charges dropped, and I’ll call you as soon as the police release your teeth.”
“That would be real nice of you,” Myron said. “I’m getting tired of oatmeal.”
Ten minutes later, we were in front of the courthouse. “I have to check you in,” I said to Myron, “but Connie is on her way to bail you out again. And hopefully, you’ll be cleared of charges soon.”
“That’s okay,” Myron said. “I didn’t have anything to do today, anyway.”
I HAD MY map and a summary of Ranger’s accounts in front of me. My plan was to take a look at those accounts I’d tagged as high risk and those accounts that had already been hit. The first two houses were high risk. Each of the houses had a touch pad by the front door and a touch pad by the garage entrance. I couldn’t find any evidence of filming devices in the touch-pad areas. The next stop was the only commercial account on my list. It was the insurance company that had been burgled four days ago.
I went directly to the rear-entrance touch pad and looked to find possible lines of sight. Rangeman had installed a motion sensor over the door. This was the spot I’d choose if I wanted to snoop on the touch pad. I’d set the camera above the motion sensor, and it would look like it belonged there. There was no camera there now, but it looked to me like some of the paint above the motion sensor had flaked off.
I asked building maintenance to get me a stepladder. I climbed up, took a closer look, and I was pretty sure something had been taped there. When the tape was removed, the paint had peeled away with it. I took a picture with my cell phone and thanked the maintenance guy for the ladder.
“No problem,” he said. “The guy last week needed a ladder, too.”
“What guy?”
“The Rangeman guy. What is it that you people keep checking?”
“Do you remember exactly when he was here?”
“Yeah, he was here twice. Monday morning and Wednesday morning.”
