Tricky Twenty-Two (Stephanie Plum 22)

“It’s complicated.”

TWENTY

THE BONDS OFFICE is open for half a day on Saturdays, but I work all the time. It’s not a big sacrifice for me because I have no hobbies, I don’t play any sports, and I no longer have a boyfriend. As a special Saturday treat I skipped breakfast at home and got coffee and a cruller at Dunkin’ Donuts. Lula and Connie were already at the office when I strolled in.

“What are we going to do today?” Lula asked me. “Are we going looking for bad guys?”

“I’m going to Rangeman to ask Ranger for help with the Gobbles dilemma.”

“That could be why you’re wearing a tight low-cut shirt that shows off your boobies,” Lula said. “And you got on the tight skinny jeans. And you got on makeup.”

“I always dress like this.”

“No way. Half the time you can’t tell if you buy your clothes in the men’s department or the women’s department. You’re one of them comfortable dressers.”

“She has a point,” Connie said. “You haven’t got your hair in a ponytail today, either.”

“Jeez,” I said. “I hadn’t really thought about any of that. I just get up every morning and get dressed.”

“Exactly,” Lula said, “but today you got dressed special. This here’s your unconscious telling you to get sexed up for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Totally Edible. Let’s face it. You’re hot for him.”

“Of course I’m hot for him,” I said. “You’d have to be dead not to be hot for him. That doesn’t mean I’m setting out to seduce him.”

“Well, I’m just saying you got seduction cleavage going on,” Lula said. “And I’m thinking your unconscious has plans.”

“As long as those plans stay in my unconscious,” I said. I tossed my empty coffee cup into the trash. “I’m off to Rangeman.”

•••

I texted Ranger from the car to make sure he had time to talk to me, and he texted back Babe. I took that to mean he had time.

I parked in the underground garage and took the elevator to the third-floor control room where Ranger had an office. When Ranger got out of the military he worked as a bounty hunter with a vacant lot for an address. In a relatively short amount of time he went from a vacant lot to a slick office building, an exclusive client base, and a fleet of new cars. He has a silent partner who remains very silent. The control room is state of the art. The décor is minimalist. The attitude is calm and quiet.

I walked through the control room to Ranger’s office. The door was open, and Ranger was working at his computer. I closed the door and took a seat across the desk from him.

“Catching up on Facebook?” I asked him.

“Designing a security system.”

“I had an interesting chat with Ken Globovic last night. Long story short is that Gobbles and his friend Becker were building fireworks in the basement of Zeta house. Professor Pooka came on board to help and totally took over. He has the basement door locked, and he has the only key. No one gets in the basement but Pooka. I’m told Pooka lives in an apartment like the Unabomber, and that it has an alarm system. And Becker has been missing for over a week. Gobbles has been FTA because he’s trying to find Becker.”

“No police involvement?”

“Becker called his parents and assured them that he was fine.”

“But Gobbles doesn’t think Becker is fine.”

“Right.”

“Why do we care?”

“I don’t know. I just care.”

Ranger looked at me for a beat. “I like your shirt.”

“It’s working, right?”

“Not as good as the red dress, but it’s close. What do you want me to do?”