Nancy's eyes went to the size of goose eggs, and she frantically thumbed through her event schedule. “Oh crap!” she said. “Oh shit.”
I looked over her shoulder and read down the clipboard. Thursday's event will benefit the humane treatment OF ANIMALS.
The woman narrowed her eyes at Brenda. “Take that offensive jacket off immediately.”
“Bite me,” Brenda said. “And what's your problem, anyway?”
“Do you have any idea how many little minks it took to make that jacket?”
“Oh puhleeze,” Brenda said. “Don't give me that tree-hugger crap. Look, if it's an issue for you, just think of it as Russian weasel.”
The woman snatched a glass of red wine from a waiter, dumped it on Brenda's jacket, and Brenda tossed her champagne in the woman's face. Ranger reached for Brenda, but Brenda already had her hands around the woman's throat. There was a lot of kicking and shrieking of obscenities, and by the time Ranger got the women separated, Brenda's boobs had popped out of her dress and the skirt had ridden up to her waist. Ranger dispassionately yanked the dress up over Brenda's breasts and pulled the skirt down over her ass, apologized to the other woman, and dragged Brenda out of the room and into the lobby. Nancy and I rushed after Ranger and Brenda, and we all jumped into the elevator.
Nancy crossed meet and greet off her schedule. “One down,” she said. “We have ten minutes before the dinner.”
Ranger and I elected not to sit at the head table with Brenda. We took a position on the wall toward the front of the room, so we could better see if anyone was rushing at Brenda with a glass of red wine.
Brenda had changed into a black satin bustier, tight jeans studded with rhinestones, and she had an animal-friendly black cashmere wrap draped over her shoulders.
My cell phone vibrated, and I looked at the screen. It was Morelli calling. “I need to take this,” I said to Ranger. “I'm going to step outside for a moment.”
I found a quiet corridor and dialed Morelli.
“How's it going?” I asked Morelli.
“I don't know. He hasn't stopped playing since I got home. He can play and eat at the same time. I think he took the computer into the bathroom with him. It's kind of creepy. You're coming back here tonight, right?”
“Urn...”
“Let me rephrase that. What time are you coming back here?”
“Hard to say. I'm running security for Brenda.”
“The Brenda?”
“Yeah. I'm working with Ranger.”
There was a full sixty seconds of silence where I suspected Morelli was staring down at his shoe, getting a grip. Morelli thought Ranger was a dangerous guy from multiple points of view. And Morelli was right.
“Don't you want to hear about Brenda?” I asked him.
“No. I don't care about Brenda. I care about you. I don't like you working with Ranger.”
“It's just for a couple days.”
“I'm out of the house at six tomorrow morning. You need to be here to make sure Picasso doesn't spray paint the dog again.”
“Zook painted Bob?”
“He did it before I got home. He said he had to protect Bob from the griefer. He pulls anything like that again, and I'm going to make the griefer look like the Tooth Fairy.”
Ranger was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, calmly watching the room when I returned.
“Did I miss anything fun?” I asked him.
He made a small side-to-side movement with his head. “No.”
“Brenda is waving her glass around.”