“I got hair spray in my eye,” Kenny said. “It's watering. I need a doctor.”
I held the back door open for him. “Don't be such a big baby,” I said. “I get hair spray in my eyes all the time.”
Ranger was waiting under the canopy. He was dressed in a black T-?shirt and black assault pants tucked into black boots. He had a body like Schwarzenegger, dark hair slicked back off his face and a two-?hundred-?watt smile. He was drop-?dead sexy, he was as sane as Batman, and he was a primo bounty hunter.
He gave me all two hundred watts. “Nice touch with the hair spray.”
“Don't start.”
* * * * *
MONDAY MORNING I woke up feeling restless. I wanted to move on Maxine Nowicki, but I was stalled on the clue. I looked at the note again and felt frustration gnawing at me. Sally Sweet hadn't returned my call. I was itching to call him again, but it was eight o'clock, and I thought it was possible drag queens weren't early risers.
I was on my second cup of coffee when the phone rang.
“It's me,” Sally said.
I read the note over the phone, letter by letter.
Silence.
“Sally?”
“I'm thinking. I'm thinking. I've been up all night, looking sexy, shaking my ass. It isn't easy, you know.”
I could hear yelling in the background. “What's going on?”
“It's Sugar. He's got breakfast all made.”
“Sugar makes your breakfast?”
“I'm on the phone with Stephanie,” Sally yelled back.
“Boy, I don't have anyone make breakfast for me.”
“What you have to do is live with a gay guy,” Sally said. “They're into this cooking shit.”
Something to think about.
“I don't want to rush your breakfast,” I said. “I'll be home for another hour, then I'm going to the office. When you figure it out you can call me at the office, or you can leave a message on my machine.”
“Ten four, kemosabe.”
I took a shower and dressed for another scorcher day. I gave Rex fresh water and some hamster food, which he didn't deem worthy to so much as sniff at.
I slung my black leather tote over my shoulder, locked up and took the stairs to the lobby. Outside, the blacktop was steaming, and the sun was beginning to throb in a murky sky. I played Savage Garden all the way to the office and arrived psyched because I'd had good traffic karma, sailing through the lights.
Connie was bent over a file when I walked in. Her black hair was teased high around her face like a movie set that was all facade. Everything up front and nothing in the back. Killer hair as long as she didn't turn around.
“If you want to talk to the man, he isn't in,” she said.
Lula popped up from behind a bank of file cabinets. “He's doin' a nooner with a goat today. I saw it on his calendar.”
“So how's it going?” Connie asked. “Any action on the Nowicki thing?”
I passed a copy of the note to Connie and Lula. “I have a message from her that's written in some kind of code.”
“Lose me,” Lula said. “Code isn't one of my specialties.”