Look Alive Twenty-Five (Stephanie Plum 25)

Ranger moved into Vinnie’s range of vision and Vinnie stopped in mid-rant. Everyone knew I was under Ranger’s protection, and the possibility of angering Ranger was even more frightening than angering Harry.

“Maybe I got carried away,” Vinnie said. “I mean, we’re family, right? Anyway, you probably did me a favor. We had this pain-in-the-ass rat’s nest overinsured.”

“It was an accident,” I said. “It started with a grease fire.”

“Yeah, these things happen,” Vinnie said. “I’ll go explain it to Harry.”

We all watched him scramble back into his Cadillac and drive away.

“I think I would not like to work for him,” Raymond said. “He reminds me of my mother.”

The alleys on both sides of the deli building were clogged with chunks of roofing material and window glass, so Ranger and I walked around the block to see the rest of the damage.

The back door was covered with plywood and crisscrossed with crime scene tape. Puddles of sooty water and pieces of charred wood littered the parking area. We were standing there, taking it in, when the Central GP truck rumbled down the alley and stopped just short of us.

Frankie got out and looked at the blackened brick. “When did this happen?” he asked.

“Last night,” I said. “Grease fire.”

“How bad is it?”

“We haven’t been inside, but I don’t think there’s much left.”

“So, I’m guessing you don’t want your order?”

“Stretch and Raymond are in front. They might need oregano.”

“I’ll drive around,” Frankie said.

We watched the truck move on down the alley.

“He has a nice business going,” Ranger said.

I gestured at the deli. “Not much to see from the outside. And I suppose it’s not safe to go in.”

“We’ll get notified when it’s safe to go in.”

“I got a text from Connie. She has two new files for me. Do you have time to take me to the office?”

“I have a meeting at three o’clock. Until then I’m all yours.”

* * *

¦ ¦ ¦

Connie was alone at her desk when Ranger and I walked in.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“Vinnie is talking to Harry. Lula is out foraging lunch.”

“It’s early for lunch,” I said.

“Not for Lula,” Connie said. “I’m glad you’re here. I have two new court skips. One of them is a high bond, high flight risk.”

I took the two files and flipped the first one open. Ranger was pressed against my back, reading over my shoulder. He was warm, and he smelled nice, and I was having a hard time concentrating on the file.

“I’ll take these out to the car, and we’ll get right to it,” I said to Connie.