I knew what he wanted to do, too.
“Is there anything else you need from me?” Ranger asked.
“Not right now.”
“There will come a time,” Ranger said. “Let me know when.” And he disconnected.
I opened the freezer and stuck
my head in to cool off. If there'd been any more innuendo in that conversation, I could have fried an egg on my forehead.
Ranger was a successful bounty hunter because he was exceptionally intuitive and doggedly aggressive. And that was also his description as a lover.
I removed my head from the freezer, and I brought an ice cream sandwich out with me. Morelli's computer was upstairs in his office. I was eating the last of the ice cream, so I sneaked past Mooner and Zook and tiptoed up the stairs.
Ranger's office was ultra modern and very high tech. Polished glass, stainless steel, and black onyx surfaces with black leather chairs. It was dust and clutter free. The computer and phone system was state of the art and there was a plasma television on one wall.
Morelli's office was a mess. A red plastic milk crate held his baseball mitt, bat, and some tennis balls he'd collected for Bob. Stacks of dog-eared files hunkered in corners and against the wall. Smaller stacks of books he'd been given as presents or he thought he might like to read but never seemed to get to were tucked between the files. A dead houseplant on a small table by the window. Coffee cup rings everywhere. A yard sale desk and chair. Running shoes that had seen better days, kicked off under the desk and forgotten. And his computer, which was a nice new MacBook Pro. Plus a DeskJet printer.
I turned the computer on and brought up Morelli's mail program. I'm not a computer whiz, but I can do the basics. I knew it wouldn't take Ranger long to run the background check, but I relaxed in Morelli's chair for a moment before checking in. Truth is, I like Morelli's office. Okay, it could be a little cleaner, but it felt warm and comfy, like Morelli.
I could see across the hall into Zook's room. It was a typical teen disaster.
Rumpled bed and every piece of clothing he had with him was on the floor. I thought he was doing remarkably well, considering his mother was missing. I imagined there might be some tears when he went to bed at night, but during the day he managed to hold his own. Mooner was helping. Mooner wasn't the world's best role model, but he kept Zook occupied.
I hit the GET mail button and Rangers file came up. I printed it out and sat back to read it. Stanley Zero was married with two kids but not living with them. He was living alone in a low-rent apartment complex off Route 1. He worked for Premier Homes. I already knew that. So maybe he was Work Boots, and he was the partner with the crap-ola apartment. He'd run up his credit cards, but he wasn't in collection. He drove a red F150 truck. Four years old. No prior arrests. His wife was a nurse. Worked at St. Francis. She was living in a house that was owned jointly by Stanley and her. Heavily mortgaged. The kids were five and nine. The typical American family. Except Stanley might have robbed a bank, blown up a house, and shot a guy dead.
So I had Stanley Zero, Allen Gratelli, and Dom. If I could find the common thread, the one thing that brought them together, I might learn the identity of the fourth man. Or maybe there was no common thread. Stanley and Dom had gone to school together. Dom and Allen had worked together for the cable company. Maybe Dom was the organizer.
I straightened Morelli's bedroom, made the bed, and did a superficial cleaning of the bathroom. I peeked in at Zook's room and decided not to invade his privacy. Stephanie Plum, Ms. Sensitivity and half-assed housewife.
I heard Bob gallop from the kitchen to the front door, and I knew Morelli had arrived with food.
“Steph,” he yelled. “I'm home.”
Ricky Ricardo brings Lucy her dinner.
I met Morelli at the bottom of the stairs and took a grocery bag from him. He handed the other bags over to Zook and Mooner.
“Meatball subs, potato salad, coleslaw for all of us,” he said to Zook and Mooner. “The beer is for me.”
I took the bag into the kitchen and put the lunch meat, milk, orange juice, and sliced cheese in the fridge. Morelli'd also gotten bread and a cake that said Happy Birthday Ken.
“A birthday cake?” I said to him.
“I know you love birthday cake, and apparently Ken didn't need his.”
We brought napkins, plates, silverware, and soda to the living room and Morelli remoted the television on. We crammed ourselves onto the couch and ate our food and watched the early evening news.
“And now we bring you our special report from that special person... Brenda,” the anchor said.
Brenda popped onto the screen. Her face was blue, she was in full black leather bounty hunter mode, and she was in Morelli's backyard.
“Here we are at Aunt Roses house,” she said. “And as you can see, digging for the stolen money has already begun.”
There was a shot of Morelli telling her to leave, and there was a full thirty seconds of Morelli turning the hose on her. The screen went black for a moment, and then Brenda reappeared in dry clothes, free from mud. “Here we are back at Aunt Rose's house,” Brenda said. “We aren't going to bother the hot guy who lives here, because he might turn his hose on us again, and while I wouldn't mind seeing his hose in private, I'm not taking any chances in his backyard. As you can see, there's this big dump truck parked behind his garage. I had one of my crew climb up on the truck and look inside, and he said it's getting filled up with chunks of concrete. And even as we speak I can hear the jackhammer working in Aunt Rose's basement.” Brenda aimed the microphone at the back of Morelli's house, and there was the faint sound of the jackhammer, which at that distance sounded like a woodpecker. “As you all know, it's been thought the missing nine million dollars was last seen by Aunt Rose, and maybe this new development will bring us closer to all that money. This is Brenda signing off and saying... see you soon!”
Zook gave a howl of laughter.