Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum 27)

I followed him to the kitchen.

“What would you like?” he said. “Wine?”

“Red.”

He took a bottle of Pinot Noir from the wine cooler and selected two glasses from the above-counter display. “Prowl through the fridge if you’re hungry,” he said. “Ella usually has some late-night food in there.”

I pulled out a tray with dried fruit and nuts and cheese, and I set it on the counter. Ranger lived well. This hadn’t always been the case. When I first met him, his address was a vacant lot.

“Let’s move this into my office,” he said. “I’ll do a search on Alice Smuther.”

I took the cheese tray and my wine and followed Ranger.

The apartment consisted of a hallway leading to the kitchen, a small eating area off the kitchen, and a living room with comfy couches. Ranger’s office was in the master bedroom area off the living room.

I set the cheese tray on his desk and pulled a chair up next to him. He typed Alice Smuther into his search program, and we sat back and waited for the information.

She was relatively clean for a hooker. A few arrests for solicitation. That was it. She was twenty-six years old. Grew up in Atlanta. Migrated north when she graduated from high school. Had a bunch of short-term minimum wage jobs and then turned to prostitution. Ranger pulled her driver’s license up and I was pretty sure it was the woman on the floor.

“She owned a ten-year-old Range Rover,” Ranger said. “Here’s her plate. If it’s not parked on the street close to her building, Shine might be driving it.”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

“Yes. Let’s move this into the bedroom.”

Oh boy.

When I spend a night in Ranger’s bed the sex is always great, but honestly, his sheets are equally orgasmic. They’re gloriously soft and as smooth as glass because Ella irons them. His pillows are perfect. His comforter is perfect. When he turns the light off, the room is dark and quiet and cool. The cool never lasts very long. Ranger is hot in bed.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I was dragged out of sleep by the sound of the shower running. The bedroom was dark. My cell phone read 5:00 a.m. I fell back asleep and when I woke up it was twenty-five minutes later, and I could hear Ranger moving around the room. I switched the bedside light on and saw that he was already dressed. Usually Ranger wore the same cargo pants and Rangeman logo shirt that the rest of the men wore. He was in a suit today. Black and custom tailored. Black dress shirt. Black striped tie.

“Nice,” I said. “Sexy in a successful-b

usinessman sort of way.”

“New corporate client meeting this morning. Don’t think he’d be happy if I came dressed ready for a SWAT ambush.” He strapped his watch on. “Stay as long as you like. Ella will bring your breakfast up at eight o’clock. If you want it sooner, you can call her. Rafael will pick your car up this morning and leave it in the garage for you. Try not to jump out of any windows today.”

“Dropped! I dropped out of the window.”

* * *

I rolled out of bed at seven thirty and shuffled off to take a shower. This is an experience second only to being in Ranger’s bed. The tiles are gleaming white, his showerhead is perfect and not encrusted with lime, and he has unlimited hot water. And the best part is that Ella makes sure he’s supplied with Bulgari green shower gel and shampoo. I’ve never gotten a full-on orgasm just from smelling Bulgari green, but I’ve had some decent rushes. The scent evaporates almost immediately on me but mysteriously clings to Ranger. This explains the reason for the rush.

My hair was still damp when I went in search of breakfast. Ella had obviously tiptoed in when I was in the shower because the tray was already on the kitchen counter. Coffee, cream, and croissants with jam. Plus, smoked salmon with a dollop of caviar and crème fraîche, if I was in need of protein. Some toast points for the salmon. Assorted fresh fruit. No Frosted Flakes.

I planned my day while I ate. I would make a fast stop at my apartment to check on Rex and change clothes. Then I’d give Connie the information about the car and have her feed it to her network of gossips and snoops. There were two open FTAs and there was Grandma and the treasure. I was getting nowhere fast on all this stuff, but as Yoda says, “Do or do not. There is no try.” So, I was all about the do today.

It was almost nine o’clock when I left Ranger’s apartment. I took the elevator to the garage and found my car. It had been detailed and the keys on the dash were attached to a Rangeman key fob. I looked into the security camera pointed at me and said, “Thank you.”

I rolled into my building’s parking lot a half hour later. I took the stairs and found Potts, sound asleep, stretched out in a sleeping bag in front of my apartment door. I carefully inserted my key, opened my door, and stepped over Potts. I closed and locked the door and looked out my peephole. Couldn’t see Potts. That meant he was still asleep on the floor. Yay.

I changed my clothes, pulled my hair up into a ponytail, and gave Rex a piece of croissant from breakfast.

Potts was still asleep when I opened my door to leave. I stepped over him again, closed and locked the door, and sprinted down the hall to the stairs. I got to the stairs and looked back at him. He hadn’t moved. Crap! What if he was dead? I watched him for a minute and saw him move. Okay! Not dead.

* * *