“Why are you calling? You always just break in.”
“I didn't want to take a chance on scaring the hell out of you and getting shot.”
“Good thinking. What's the occasion?”
“Wheels, Babe.”
I went to the window, pulled the curtain aside, and looked down at Ranger. He was standing alongside a black BMW.
“I'll be right down,” I said to Ranger. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”
I pulled on a pair of jeans, shoved my feet into ratty sneakers, and covered my flannel nightshirt with an oversized gray sweatshirt. I grabbed my keys and took off for the stairs.
“Looking a little scary, Babe,” Ranger said when he saw me.
“A friend of mine suggested this look could be a new concept in birth control.”
“It's not that scary.”
I smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from my sweatshirt and closely examined a speck of lint on my sleeve. I looked up and found Ranger smiling.
“The ball's in your court,” Ranger said. “Let me know when you're ready.”
“For the car?”
He smiled.
“Are you sure you want to give me another car?”
“This one's equipped with sensors on the undercarriage.” He held a small remote. “Push the green button to set the sensors. If there's motion under the car the alarm sounds and the red light on the dash stays lit. Unfortunately, the car doesn't know the difference between a cat, a baseball, and a bomb, so if the light is flashing you have to do some investigating. Not perfect, but better than stepping on the accelerator and being turned into confetti. Probably it's not necessary. It's unlikely someone would try to blow you up twice.” He handed the remote over to me and explained the
rest of the security system.
“Just like James Bond,” I said.
“You have plans for the day?”
“I need to call Morelli and see if the guy who delayed me at RGC, Mark Stemper, turned up. Then I suppose I'll do my rounds. Visit Mabel. Check in at the office. Harass the garbage people.” Keep my eyes peeled for Ramirez. Have my head examined.
“Somebody out there's feeling real cranky because you're not dead. You might want to wear your vest.”
I watched him drive away, and before I went into the building I armed the car. I finished up the game with Briggs, took a shower, shook my head with the hopes it would style my hair, and applied mascara so people would notice my eyes and not pay too close attention to the rest of me.
I scrambled an egg and ate it with a glass of orange juice and a multivitamin. A healthy breakfast to start the day off right—just in case I lived through the morning.
I decided Ranger might have a good idea about the vest. It made me sort of flat-?chested, but then, what didn't? I was wearing jeans and boots and a T-?shirt with the vest Velcroed tight to my body. I buttoned a navy flannel shirt over the vest and thought it didn't look too bad.
There were no bomb alert lights flashing when I got to the car, so I slid behind the wheel feeling secure. My parents' house was first on the visitation list. I thought it wouldn't hurt to have a cup of coffee and catch up on the latest rumors.
Grandma appeared at the door the minute I swerved in to the curb. “Boy, that's a pip of a car,” she said, watching me angle out and set the security system. “What kind of car is it?”
“It's a BMW.”
“We just read in the paper where you had a Porsche, and it got blown up. Your mother's in the bathroom taking an aspirin.”
I ran up the porch stairs two at a time. “It was in the paper?”
“Yeah, only they didn't have a picture of you, like usual. They just had a picture of the car. Boy, it looked flat as a pancake.”