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“Waggle gives this as his address. Is that possible?”
“It’s just a shell. And this is a scary part of Stark.”
Ranger pulled to the curb and parked. “Let’s take a look.”
I got out and stood away from the SUV. It was Ranger’s personal Porsche Cayenne. It looked and smelled new. It was black. It was immaculate. And with a tap on his remote it was electrified.
“On Thursdays and Fridays when they have music here, the street is closed off and there are food trucks and big searchlights. I don’t know how they power the lights,” I said.
“Let’s go inside.”
The inside had been swept clean. No left-behind drug paraphernalia, no empty beer bottles, no wasted snowflakes.
“That’s the stage at the far end?” Ranger asked.
“Yes. The bands enter and exit through the door on the left.”
We walked toward the stage, and there was a bloodcurdling shriek from the street.
“Jeez Louise,” I said. “What was that?”
“I imagine someone tried to steal the Porsche.”
“Will they be okay?”
“Probably. I didn’t have it set on lethal.”
Ranger went out the side door and looked at the area behind the building. He walked down the alley to the street.
The Porsche was still parked at the curb. No other car in sight. No Porsche stealers lurking. Ranger clicked the security system off, but I kept my distance.
“You first,” I said.
Ranger opened the door and got behind the wheel. I touched a finger to the SUV. I didn’t get shocked, so I got in next to him.
“Babe,” he said, “you have trust issues.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
“Sometimes safe isn’t fun.”
“I didn’t know you were that interested in fun.”
“Spend the night with me and judge for yourself,” Ranger said.
Here’s the thing. I’ve spent the night with him and fun isn’t the first word that comes to mind. The first word would be WOW or maybe YUM or AHHHHHHH, YES! Okay, that’s two words, but he’s worth two words and more. Truth is, he’s magic. And he’s also major trouble in the romance department since Morelli isn’t keen on sharing me. For that matter, I’m not keen on sharing either. Being in love and in a relationship with one man is complicated enough. Being in love and in a relationship with two men would be suicide. But it’s hard not to be in love after a night of magic.
“You promised Morelli you’d have me home by my curfew.”
“Wrong. Morelli told me to get you home by ten o’clock. I didn’t promise anything.”
The magic thing got me to thinking about Wulf. “What do you suppose Wulf’s role is in all this?” I asked.
“I think it’s tangential. Wulf is looking for someone who happens to be involved.”
“Nothing more?”
“Probably nothing more in the beginning, but that could have changed. If Wulf is intrigued by the game he might join in.”
