“I don't know, man, but it's not a toaster.”
We were standing in Dougie's living room. Dougie isn't the world's best housekeeper, but the room seemed unusually disrupted. Cushions were askew on the couch, and the coat closet door was open. I stuck my head into the kitchen and found a similar scene. The cabinet doors and counter drawers were open. The door to the cellar was open, and the door to the small pantry was open. I didn't remember things as looking like this last night.
I dumped my bag onto the small kitchen table and pawed through the contents, picking out the pepper spray and stun gun.
“Someone's been in here,” I said to Mooner.
“Yeah, it happens a lot.”
I turned and stared at him. “A lot?”
“This is the third time this week. I figure someone's looking for our stash. And that old guy, what's with him? He was real friendly with Dougie, coming over to the house a second time and all. And now he's yelling at me. It's like, confusing, dude.”
I stood there with my mouth open and my eyes slightly bulging for several beats. “Wait a minute, are you telling me DeChooch came back after he delivered the cigarettes?”
“Yeah. Except I didn't know it was DeChooch. I didn't know his name. Dougie and me just called him the old dude. I was here when he dropped the cigs. Dougie called me to help unload the truck. And then he came back to see Dougie a couple days later. I didn't see him the second time. I just know from Dougie telling me.” Mooner took one last drag on the roach. “Boy, talk about a coincidence. Who would have thought you were looking for the old dude.”
Mental head-slap.
“I'm going to check the rest of the house. You stay here. If you hear me scream, call the police.”
Am I brave, or what? Actually I was pretty sure no one was in the house. It had been raining for at least an hour, maybe more, and there were no signs that someone had come in with wet feet. Most likely, the house was searched last night after we left.
I flipped the light switch for the cellar and started down the stairs. It was a small house and a small cellar, and I didn't have to go far to see that the cellar had been thoroughly searched and abandoned. I did the second story next and had the same experience. Boxes in the cellar and in the extra bedroom had been ripped open and emptied onto the floor.
Clearly, Mooner had no idea what DeChooch was after. Mooner wasn't smart enough to be devious.
“Is anything missing?” I asked Mooner. “Has Dougie ever noticed anything missing after the house is searched?”
“A rump roast.”
“Excuse me?”
“I swear to God. There was a rump roast in the freezer and someone took it. It was a small one. Two and a half pounds. It was left over from a side of beef Dougie happened to come across. You know . . . fell off a truck. It was all that was left of it. We saved it for ourselves in case we felt like cooking something someday.”
I returned to the kitchen and checked out the freezer and refrigerator. Ice cream and a frozen pizza in the freezer. Coke and leftover pizza in the refrigerator.
“This is a real downer,” Moon said. “The house doesn't feel right without the Dougster here.”
I hated to admit it, but I needed help with DeChooch. I suspected he held the key to Dougie, and he kept walking away from me.
CONNIE WAS GETTING ready to close up the office when Mooner and I walked in. “I'm glad you're here,” she said. “I have an FTA for you. Roseanne Kreiner. Businesswoman of the ho variety. Has her office on the corner of Stark and Twelfth. Accused of beating the crap out of one of her clients. Guess he didn't want to pay for services rendered. She shouldn't be hard to find. Probably didn't want to give up work time to go to court.”
I took the file from Connie and stuffed it into my bag. “Hear anything from Ranger?”
“He delivered his man this morning.”
Hooray. Ranger was back. I could get Ranger to help me.
I called his number, but there was no answer. I left a message and tried his pager. A moment later my cell phone rang and a rush skittered through my stomach. Ranger.
“Yo,” Ranger said.
“I could use some help with an FTA.”
“What's your problem?”
“He's old, and I'll look like a loser if I shoot him.”