TEN
BRIGGS WAS STILL asleep on the kitchen floor when I brought Grandma home. I nudged him with my foot, and he mumbled something, but he didn’t wake up.
“Is it okay if I leave him here?” I asked my mom. “I’ll come get him first thing in the morning.”
“As long as it’s first thing.”
I drove home, parked in my lot, and noticed that the lights were on in my apartment. Morelli had a key, but his green SUV wasn’t in the lot. Ranger’s black Porsche wasn’t there either, but that didn’t mean much. Ranger has a lot of cars available to him.
My cellphone rang and Ranger said, “Babe.”
“Are you in my apartment?” I asked him.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m in your apartment.”
He was in my kitchen with a bottle of water in his hand. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, a Glock, and an unzipped flak vest. Not his usual all black perfectly tailored uniform. No Rangeman logo.
“This must be casual Tuesday,” I said to him.
“They won’t let anything leave the building. Ella had to do some fast shopping.”
Ella is half of a housekeeping couple that maintains Ranger’s building. She makes sure everyone is appropriately dressed and well fed, she supervises the cleaning crew, and she personally tends to Ranger’s private apartment.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
“Yes. I wasn’t onsite when the poison was released. Bruce McCready discovered Gardi with the canister. There was a struggle, the canister was activated, and McCready and Gardi were contaminated. Gardi panicked and told McCready everything he knew, hoping he could get treatment in time to save himself. Fortunately, McCready was able to evacuate the building before the poison spread.”
“Is McCready going to be okay?”
“No one is saying, but from the limited information I have, I suspect McCready and Gardi received a lethal dose. This stuff takes a while to kill. McCready is a good man. He’s a team player. Everyone likes him. There are a lot of prayers being said at Rangeman.”
“That’s horrible. How did this happen?”
“We didn’t do a body cavity check. Technically, we’re not empowered. Gardi obviously knew this, because he had a delayed-action aerosol cartridge of polonium-210 hidden in him. The plan was for him to release it into the air-conditioning system just before he left for Miami. At least that’s what he told McCready, and what McCready passed on to us before he was hospitalized. I haven’t been able to talk to either McCready or Gardi since they were admitted. They’re both in isolation under heavy guard.”
“I’ve never heard of polonium.”
“It’s produced in nuclear reactors. It’s rare, and it’s difficult to detect. If it enters the body through an open wound, if it’s eaten, if a person breathes contaminated air, it’s deadly. It causes multiple organ failure.
“McCready was watching the cell video feed when Gardi pulled the canister out, and McCready went to investigate. If the poison had gone undetected into the building ventilation system, it would have infected everyone in the building.”
“Morelli said he thought Gardi was working for someone who had a vendetta against you.”
Ranger was leaning against my kitchen counter, looking relaxed, his brown eyes mostly black in the dim light. “I’ve made some enemies.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? Some enemies?”
The corners of his mouth turned up into the smallest of smiles. “Are you worried about me?”
“Of course I’m worried about you.”
“Nice.” He looked at his watch. “I have to go.”
“What? Are you serious? You didn’t tell me anything.”
“This is why I’m not married,” Ranger said. “Women ask questions.”
“Unh!” I said, smacking my forehead with the heel of my hand. “That’s not why you’re not married. You’re not married because you’re … impossible.”
He dragged me to him and kissed me, and I felt the kiss travel like lava to my doo-dah.
“I have some issues to resolve,” he said.
No kidding.
He gave my ponytail a playful tug and left.
It was almost eight A.M. when I got to my parents’ house. Grandma was looking out the front door with her arms crossed over her chest, and Briggs was pacing on the sidewalk. His hair was a mess, and his shirt was stained and disheveled.
“Why are you out here?” I asked. “And what have you got all over your shirt?”
Grandma leaned out the open door. “It’s chocolate,” she said. “He woke up and snarfed down the cake. All of it. Your father went after him with a baseball bat. Lucky for Briggs it was your father’s duty time. You know how your father has to keep on schedule with his morning duties. Good thing you got here before he was done in the bathroom.”
“Somebody had to eat it,” Briggs said. “It was just sitting there.”
“The funeral is tomorrow morning,” Grandma said to me. “Are you going?”
“Maybe.”
“I hear there’s going to be undercover cops there in case Jimmy shows up. There might even be a shootout. I’m thinking I might wear my flak vest just in case.”
“You have a flak vest?”
“I got it a while ago from one of them home shopping shows on television. I thought you never know when you might need one. It’s navy, and it would look good with my navy pantsuit.”
I loaded Briggs into the Buick and drove him back to my apartment.
“Honestly,” I said. “Did you have to eat all the cake?”
“I got carried away. I was hungry.”
“I have things to do at the office. I’m going to drop you off so you can get cleaned up, and I’m going to pick you up later. I’m going to trust you to behave yourself.”
“I might take a nap. The cake made me sort of sick.”
“Do not take a nap in my bed.”
“I’ll take a shower first.”
“No! You can sleep on the couch. If I find any evidence, a single new wrinkle in my sheets, you’ll be sleeping in the parking lot.”
“Boy, you’d think I had cooties or something.”
“I’m sure you have cooties.”
I watched Briggs amble through the back door of my apartment building, gave a shudder, and headed for the office.
“Where’s half pint?” Lula asked when I walked in.
“I left him home. He was tired this morning.”
“I thought you didn’t trust him alone in your apartment.”
“I don’t, but I can’t keep babysitting him every minute.”
Connie waved a file at me. “I just got a new FTA. It’s not worth a lot of money, but it should be easy to clear. It’s Stanley Kulicky.”
“I know Stanley,” I said. “I went to school with him. What’s his problem?”
“He broke into the Sunshine Diner and stole a couple five-gallon jugs of rice pudding. I guess he was high and he got the munchies for rice pudding. The diner was closed so he helped himself.”
“That don’t sound like much of a crime,” Lula said.
“After he got the rice pudding strapped into his backseat, he went back in and tried to make himself a burger and fries and ended up setting the kitchen on fire. He panicked and took off, and on the way out of the parking lot he rammed a cop car. No one was hurt, but the cop car was trashed. Kulicky said he didn’t see it. Said it jumped out at him from nowhere.”
I looked at the file. “Unemployed and living with his parents.” I flipped the page to his photo. “Whoa! What happened to him?”
Lula looked over my shoulder. “He’s fat,” Lula said. “I don’t use that term a lot on account of it could be derogatory, but there’s no other way to describe him. He’s all swelled up.”
“He was a skinny guy in high school,” I said.
“Maybe he got a glandular thing going,” Lula said.
I thought it was more likely a rice pudding thing.
I dropped the file into my messenger bag and took a donut from the box on Connie’s desk. “I’m on it,” I said.
“Me too,” Lula said. “You might need help.”
“I called him earlier,” Connie said. “His parents are at work, but he’s at home. He sounded cooperative. He said he forgot about the court date.”
“They all say that,” Lula said. “Then they shoot at you.”
Stanley’s parents lived just outside the Burg on Cobb Street. The house was a small bungalow with a long narrow backyard and a detached single-car garage at the back of the property. Stanley was sitting on the garage roof. And he was naked.
“This might not be a good time,” Lula said, looking the length of the driveway.
“At least we know he’s not armed.”
We walked back to the garage and stood, hands on hips, staring up at Stanley.
“How’s it going?” I said to him.
“Pretty good. How’s with you?”
“Not bad. What are you doing on the roof?”
“I like it up here. It’s peaceful. I have a nice view of the yard. And I can look in Mrs. Zahn’s bedroom window. Sometimes she’s naked.”
“Is that why you’re naked?”
“No. I’m doing the laundry, and I didn’t have anything to wear.”
“Do you have any of that rice pudding left?” Lula asked.
“No,” he said. “I didn’t get to keep it. The cops took it.”
“Case closed,” Lula said. “I’m thinking we’re out of here.”
Fortunately, I had the keys to the car. And I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. I wasn’t leaving without Stanley.
“I need to take you downtown to get your court date rescheduled,” I said to Stanley.
“I don’t want to do that. They’ll put me in jail again.”
“Only for a little while, until you get rebonded.”
“No.”
“You told Connie you’d cooperate.”
“I changed my mind.”
“One of us is going to have to go up there and get him,” I said to Lula.
“I’m only the assistant bounty hunter,” Lula said. “You’re the real bounty hunter. You’re the one what does that shit.”
Stanley had to be close to three hundred pounds. He was a giant, immovable blob. I had no clue how I’d get him down and into my car. If I stun-gunned him he’d roll off the roof and crash to the ground. God knows what would happen when he hit. He could burst apart like a water balloon.
“Listen up, Humpty Dumpty,” Lula said. “It’s not like you’re an attractive sight up there. If you don’t come down I’m gonna take your picture and put it on YouTube. And then I’m gonna put the hose on you.”
“I’ve already been on YouTube,” he said. “I took a leak on YouTube.”
“That’s disgusting,” Lula said. “I’m glad I didn’t see that.”
“Does your mother know you’re out here with no clothes on?” I asked him. “I’m calling her.”
“That’s low,” he said. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you some weed if you don’t call her. I got really good stuff.”
“I’ll make you a better deal,” I said. “I won’t call her if you get some clothes on and come downtown with me.”
“I told you, my clothes are all getting washed.”
“How about we cut a hole in your bedspread and punch your head through it,” Lula said. “That should be about your size.”
“You should talk,” Stanley said. “You’re fat!”
Lula’s eyes bugged out. “What?”
“You’re fatter than I am.”
“I am not nearly as fat as you. I’m a big and beautiful woman, and I am not fat. There’s a difference between being big and being fat.”
“Well, you look fat to me.”
“That does it,” Lula said. “I’m coming up there, and I’m kicking your lard ass off that roof.”
A ladder was propped against one side of the garage, and Lula climbed it like she was on fire. She got onto the roof, and Stanley shrieked and tried to scramble away, lost his footing, and fell off the garage.
WHUMMMP!
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. He was spread-eagle on his back with a massive hydrangea bush squashed flat as a pancake under him.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Do I look okay?”
“That’s sort of a trick question.”
“I might have broken my back.”
“Try wiggling your toes.”
Lula came down the ladder. “Can he wiggle his toes?”
“Yep.”
“Too bad he can’t see them. You know what else he can’t see?”
“Focus,” I said to Lula. “We need to get him into the car.”
“You gonna put him in your car naked? I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s gonna have them little blue hydrangea flowers all stuck up his ass. You’ll get them all over your seat covers.”
“I might need an ambulance,” Stanley said.
“Hard to believe he could have broken something with all that padding he’s got,” Lula said.
“His face is kind of white,” I said to Lula. “Maybe he hit his head.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling faint,” Stanley said. “I’m not feeling good. I’m having a hard time breathing.”
I called 911 and asked for an EMT truck.
Lula looked down at him. “You should have told them to send one with a forklift.”
“He isn’t that big,” I said. “And he probably looks better with clothes on.”
“I’m cute with clothes on,” Stanley said. “I’ve been told I look cuddly.”
“I could see that,” Lula said, “now that you mention it. You do have that cuddly stuffed bear look to you.”
“Maybe we could get together when I get out of the hospital,” Stanley said.
I checked my watch. It was midmorning. This wasn’t the way I’d planned out my day. It was one thing to walk a simple skip through the process and collect my body receipt. It was a whole other deal to protect my property while it was left on a gurney in the emergency room. It could take hours. And then I had the further complication of either signing him into the lockdown ward at the hospital or shuttling him over to the police station. I’d be going through menopause by the time this was finalized.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to stay with him at the hospital,” I said to Lula.
“No way. Hospitals creep me out.”
The EMT truck backed up the driveway. The two guys got out and grimaced when they saw Stanley.
“He’s naked,” the one guy said. “How’d he get out here naked? Is he nuts?”
“Sort of,” I said. “He was sitting up on the roof, and he fell onto the hydrangea bush.”
“Can he wiggle his toes?”
“Yeah.”
“Can he wiggle anything else?”
“Are you gonna load him up or what?” Lula said. “On account of we haven’t got all day to be standing here.”
Ten minutes later, Stanley was in the truck.
“Are you going with him?” the EMT asked me.
“No,” I said. “I’ll call his mother and let her know.”
“Not my mother,” Stanley yelled from the truck.
I looked at Lula.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with him, but you owe me. I want one of them five-gallon jugs of rice pudding when I come out of that hospital.”
I gave her my paperwork and told her to call if there was a problem. The EMT truck pulled away with Stanley and Lula, I got into the Buick, and my phone rang.
“There’s sort of a problem with your apartment,” Briggs said. “I’ve got it mostly straightened out, but you might want to come see for yourself.”
“Is it the toilet?”
“No.”
“The television?”
“You have insurance, right?” Briggs asked.