Finger Lickin' Fifteen (Stephanie Plum 15)

“Can you describe him?”

“Sure. He was young. Maybe eighteen or nineteen. Slim.

About my height. I’m five ten. Brown hair, brown eyes. Sort of dark skin. Nice-looking kid. Is something wrong?”

“No, but I’ll check with the office to make sure we’re not both doing the same route. Did you get his name?”

“No. He didn’t tell me his name. At least, I can’t remember.”

I had to work hard not to run out of the building. I was so excited, I could barely concentrate on driving. I screeched to a stop in the Rangeman garage and danced in the elevator all the way to the seventh floor. I ran through Ranger’s apartment, rushed into his bedroom, and jumped on the bed.

“I’ve got it! I know how the robberies were done and I know what the guy looks like!”

I was straddling Ranger, who fortunately was under a quilt, because from what I could see, he looked deliciously naked.

Ranger put his hands on my waist. “You’ve got my attention.”

“I noticed the paint was flaked away near a motion sensor that was opposite the touch pad at the insurance company. So I asked for a ladder, and sure enough, you could see where something had been taped to the wall.”

“Keep talking.”

“Are you sure you’re listening? Your hand just moved to my breast.”

“You’re so soft,” Ranger said, his thumb brushing across my nipple.

I got a rush, followed by a lot of desire spread all over the place. “Oh,” I heard myself murmur. “That feels good.” No! Wait a minute. Get a grip. “Jeez,” I said. And I scrambled off the bed.

“I almost had you,” Ranger said.

“I’m not ready for you. I’m currently off men.”

“Taking a hiatus.”

“Something like that.”

“Tell me more about my break-in expert.”

“The maintenance man said a Rangeman employee had been in twice to check on the same motion sensor. I figure, once to install the camera and once to remove it. He said the tech was eighteen or nineteen years old. Around five ten. Brown hair, brown eyes, sort of dark skin. Nice-looking.”

“I don’t have anyone that young,” Ranger said, “but I have several men who would fit the rest of the description and might look younger than they actually are.”

“So we’re back to someone in-house. That’s ugly.”

Ranger slipped out of bed.

“I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ll follow up on this.”

I stared at him. He was naked, all right.

“You’re staring,” he said, smiling.

“I like to look.”

“Nice to know,” Ranger said, “but we should be able to do better than that for you.”

I rummaged through Ranger’s refrigerator while he took a shower. Fresh fruit, low-fat cottage cheese, orange juice, nonfat milk, white wine. No leftover pizza. No birthday cake. Ranger was hot, but he didn’t know much about food.

I went down to the fifth floor, got an assortment of sandwiches and sides, and brought it all back to Ranger’s apartment.