It had given me time to think.
Connie was right. I needed to find out why I was on the list.
Eventually, Street Crimes or the Criminal Intelligence unit would get the information, but I was having a hard time finding the patience for 'eventually.'
I'd had a stupid, crazy idea while I was at the bonds office. It was so stupid and crazy I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.
Trouble was, the idea wouldn't go away. And I was beginning to think it wasn't so stupid and crazy.
What I needed was a snitch. I needed to find a Slayer who could be bribed into talking. I didn't have a lot of money to use as a bribe, so I figured I'd have to resort to violence. And then I needed to find this Slayer outside of Slayerland. No way was I getting caught within Slayer boundaries.
So how am I going to catch a lone Slayer out of his 'hood? Turns out there's one sitting in jail. Anton Ward. All I have to do is bond him out, and he's mine. Okay, so I don't have all the details worked out, but it has potential, right?
The sun was down, and the streets were empty. Time to take a look at the building, I decided. I locked the truck, I pulled the hood over Ranger's ball cap, and I walked the two blocks to the gate. Floors five and six were lit. And there was a single window showing light on the fourth floor. Only the night guard was left in the lobby. Now or never, I thought. I remoted myself through the gate, crossed the garage, and took the elevator without a hitch. I let myself into the apartment and relaxed.
The apartment was nice and empty. Just as I'd left it. I dropped the keys to the truck in the dish on the sideboard. I shrugged out of the sweatshirt and vest and went to the kitchen.
Rex was running on his wheel. I tapped on the side of the cage and said hello. Rex paused for a moment, whiskers twitching. He blinked once and went back to running.
I opened the refrigerator and looked inside. Then I looked down at my waistline. Still some fat oozing over the top of my jeans, but there was less fat than yesterday. I was moving in the right direction. I closed the refrigerator door and hustled out of the kitchen before the beer got to me.
I watched television for a while, and then I took a shower. I told myself I was taking a shower to relax, but the truth was, I wanted to smell the soap. Sometimes I was able to forget I was living in
Ranger's space. Tonight wasn't one of those times. Tonight I was very aware that I was using his towels and sleeping in his bed. It was a kind of Russian roulette, I thought. Each night I walked into the apartment and spun the barrel. One of these nights Ranger would be here waiting for me, and I was going to take it between the eyes.
I
toweled off and went to bed in panties and T-shirt. The sheets were cool and the room was dark. The panties and T-shirt felt skimpy in Ranger's bed. I would be much more comfortable if I was fully dressed. Socks, jeans, two or three shirts buttoned to the neck, tucked into the jeans. Maybe a jacket and hat.
It was the shower, I decided. The hot water and the delicious soap. And the towel. It had me all overheated. I could fix that... but I'd go blind. At least that was the threat when I was growing up in the Burg you abuse yourself and you'll go blind. It hadn't totally stopped me but it had me worried. I really didn't want to go blind. Besides, what if I was in the middle of something and
Ranger walked in? Actually, that sounded pretty good.
No! It didn't sound good. What was I thinking? I was sort of attached to Joe. Maybe. So where the heck was he when I needed him? He was at home. Probably. I could go over there, I thought.
I could walk in and tell him I'd just taken a shower with this great soap that always makes me feel sexy. And then I'd explain to him how I got carried away with the towel...
Good grief. I switched the light on. I needed something to read, but there were no books, no magazines, no catalogues. I wrapped myself in Ranger's robe, curled up on the couch, and turned the television on.
I woke up to the Today show. I was still in Rangers robe. I was on the couch. And I was feeling cranky. It didn't help that Al Roker was on the television screen, talking to some woman from Iowa, and Al was looking happy as could be. Al always looked happy.
What's with that?
I said goodbye to Al and beamed the television off. I dragged myself into the bathroom but decided to forego the shower. I brushed my teeth and got dressed in the clothes on the floor.
I was desperate for coffee, but it was almost eight o'clock, and I needed to get out of the building. I clapped Ranger's hat on my head, stuffed myself into the vest and sweatshirt, and took the elevator to the garage. The elevator doors opened just as a car approached the gate. I flattened myself against the side and returned to the seventh floor. I waited in the seventh-floor foyer for ten minutes, and I tried it again. This time the garage was empty.
I left the garage, and I walked to the truck. The sky was overcast and a misting rain had started to fall. The buildings on either side of Comstock were redbrick and cement. No trees, no shrubs, no lawns to soften the landscape. It felt nicely urban when the sun was shining. Today it felt grim.
I drove to the office and parked the truck in full view on the street. Connie was already at work. Lula hadn't yet arrived. I saw no sign of Vinnie.
I went straight to the coffeepot and poured out a cup for myself.
'I haven't seen a lot of Vinnie lately,' I said to Connie. 'What's the deal?'
'He's got hemorrhoids. He comes in for an hour to bitch and complain, and then he goes home to sit on his rubber doughnut.'
Connie and I both smiled at this. Vinnie deserved hemorrhoids.