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Ranger flipped the light on and went to my dresser. Panties, bra, T-shirt, jeans got thrown onto the bed.
“Get dressed, and I’ll buy you breakfast.”
“This is weird. Usually when you’re in my bedroom you’re telling me to take my clothes off.”
“Yeah, I’m having a hard time with it too. Don’t expect it to happen again.”
I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Give me five minutes. And it would be great if you could make coffee.”
He took in my bare legs and the clingy washed-out sleep shirt. “Babe,” he said so soft it was barely a whisper.
Ten minutes later I was settled into Ranger’s Porsche 911 Turbo. I had a to-go cup of coffee and Ranger’s iPad. I was watching a rerun of a video feed from the Bogart plant.
“We have the cameras up and running,” Ranger said, “but we haven’t got all the doors alarmed, and we haven’t changed out all the locks. After today I expect Bogart will allow me to replace his security staff with my own people, at least temporarily. The locks are scheduled to get changed out tomorrow.” He stopped for a light on Hamilton. “Tell me what you’re seeing.”
“The Jolly Bogart clown comes into the plant through the back door to the storeroom. He grabs a gallon jug of something and a bag of something else. He walks through the storeroom and heads for the offices that are on the opposite side of the building from the manufacturing area. I’m watching him from a different camera now. He stops at one of the doors and knocks. No one answers the door, so the clown opens the door and goes in. He’s off camera.”
“Fast-forward.”
“Okay, here he is leaving the office. His hands are free. He hasn’t got the jug or the bag. He goes back to the storeroom and leaves through the back door.”
“What do you think?”
“I could see Ducker doing this. He went gonzo when he realized he was still stuck being the clown.”
“Anything else?”
“Have you already been to the plant?” I asked Ranger.
“Yes.”
“It was Bogart’s office, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s now covered with chocolate syrup and nuts?”
“Yes.”
This got a smile from me. “Fun.” I replayed the video. “So we know the Jolly Bogart clown trashed Bogart’s office. Does this relate to the other crimes?”
“It’s not clear. It’s also not clear who’s in the clown suit. The clown hair is covering a lot of the face, and the video is being shot in the dark by infrared cameras that only show color when the clown’s penlight sporadically goes on to help him find his way.”
“Jeez,” I said. “It could be me.”
“Only if you were wearing size ten running shoes. The clown stepped in some chocolate and left prints in the hall.”
I ran the video again. “If it’s not Ducker it’s someone with a similar build.”
“Do you know anyone at the plant with a similar build?”
“No. That’s not to say there isn’t someone.”
Ranger turned into the Bogart parking lot and parked by the loading dock. There were two Rangeman SUVs parked there as well. All lights were on in the plant and the office wing.
“There’s a second video I want you to see,” Ranger said.
He took the iPad from me, found the video, and handed it back. I saw the door to the loading dock swing open. Bogart appeared, and lights flashed on. He was wearing jeans and what looked like a pajama top, and he wasn’t happy. I watched him walk through the plant to his office and go inside. I fast-forwarded and caught him bursting out of his office and charging down the hall. The video was in full color, and Bogart’s face was practically purple. His fists were clenched. He left by the same door he entered.
