I walked Bob for almost an hour. We returned to the house. I fed Bob. I made coffee. I brought Morelli coffee, juice, his paper, and a bowl of raisin bran. I ran upstairs, took a shower, did some makeup and hair magic, got dressed in my black clothes, and came downstairs ready for work.
“Is there anything you need before I leave?” I asked Morelli.
Morelli gave me a full body scan. “Dressing sexy for Ranger?”
I was wearing black jeans, black Chucks, and a stretchy V-neck black T-shirt that didn't show any cleavage. “Is that sarcasm?” I asked.
“No. It's an observation.”
“This is not sexy.”
“That shirt is too skimpy.”
“I've worn this shirt a million times. You've never objected to it before.”
“That's because it was worn for me. You need to change that shirt.”
“Okay,” I said, arms in air, nostrils flaring. “You want me to change my shirt. I'll change my shirt.” And I stomped up the stairs and stripped off all my clothes. I'd brought every piece of black I owned to Morelli's house, so I pawed through my wardrobe and came up with skintight black spandex workout pants that rode low and were worn commando. I changed my shoes to black Pumas. And I wriggled into a black spandex wrap shirt that didn't quite meet the top of the workout pants and showed a lot of cleavage... at least as much as I could manage without implants. I stomped back down the stairs and paraded into the living room to show Morelli.
“Is this better?” I asked.
Morelli narrowed his eyes and reached for me, but he couldn't move far without his crutches. I beat him to the crutches and ran to the kitchen with them. I hustled out of the house, backed Morelli's SUV out of the garage, and motored off to work.
I used my new key fob to get into the underground garage and parked in the area reserved for noncompany cars. I took the elevator to the fifth floor, stepped into the control room, and six sets of eyes looked up from the screens and locked onto me. Halfway to work, I'd pulled Morelli's sweatshirt out of my shoulder bag and put it on over my little stretchy top. It was a nice, big shapeless thing that came well below my ass and gave me a safe unisex look. I smiled at the six men on deck. They all smiled back and returned to their work.
I was a half hour early and for the first time in a long time I was excited to get to work. I wanted to finish the Barroni search, and then I wanted to move on to Jimmy Runion. I still had one file left to search for Frederick Rodriguez. I decided to do it first and get it off my desk. I was still working on the Rodriguez file when Ranger appeared in my cubby entrance.
“We have a date,” Ranger said. “You're scheduled for ten o'clock practice downstairs.”
Here's the thing about guns. I hate them. I don't even like them when they're not loaded. “I'm in the middle of something,” I said. “Maybe we could reschedule for some other time.” Like never.
“We're doing this now,” Ranger said. “This is important. And I don't want to find your gun in your desk drawer when you leave. If you work for me, you carry a gun.”
“I don't have permission to carry concealed.”
Ranger shoved my chair with his foot and rolled me back from the computer.
“Then you carry exposed.”
“I can't do that. I'll feel like Annie Oakley.”
Ranger pulled me out of the chair. “You'll figure it out. Get your gun. We have the range for an hour.”
I took the gun out of the desk drawer, shoved it into my sweatshirt pocket, and followed Ranger to the elevator. We exited into the garage and walked to the rear. Ranger unlocked the door to the range and switched the light on.
The room was windowless and appeared to stretch the length of the building. There were two lanes for shooters. Remote-controll
ed targets at the far end. Shelves and a thick bulletproof glass partition that separated the shooters
at the head of each lane.
“With a little effort you could turn this into a bowling alley,” I said to Ranger.
“This is more fun,” Ranger said. “And I'm having a hard time seeing you in bowling shoes.”
“Its not fun. I don't like guns.”
“You don't have to like them, but if you work for me you have to feel comfortable with them and know how to use them and be safe.”