“Calling me names isn't going to get me in there.”
I looked through the large plate-?glass window. Mrs. Apusenja and Nonnie were sitting on the couch, bodies rigid. “What would get you in there?”
Ranger leaned an elbow on the steering wheel and turned in my direction. And there it was . . . the eye of the tiger, focused on me.
I blew out a sigh and shoved my door open. “Wait here.”
Both women stood when I walked into the office.
“I'm very sorry,” I said.
“I want to know everything,” Mrs. Apusenja said. “I demand to know.”
Connie rolled her eyes and I heard the lock click on Vinnie's inner sanctum.
I decided it was best to give everyone the abbreviated version. “We had a tip that Samuel was in Vegas,” I said. “So Lula and Connie and I flew out.”
“A tip. Who would tell you about Samuel?” Mrs. Apusenja wanted to know.
“He applied for a job and his previous employer was checked as a reference.”
“This makes no sense,” Mrs. Apusenja said.
“Samuel was living with a woman he met on a business trip,” I said. “I spoke to the woman, but not to Samuel.”
Nonnie and Mrs. Apusenja went perfectly still.
“What do you mean, living with a woman?” Nonnie asked.
“He listed her house as his residence. And he was living there. I can't be more specific than that.”
“I never liked him,” Mrs. Apusenja said, narrowing her eyes. “I always knew he was a little pisse
r.”
Nonnie turned on her mother. “You were the one who thought he was wonderful. You were the one who arranged the engagement. I told you these things were not done in this country. I told you young women were allowed to choose their husbands here.”
“At your age you can no longer be choosy,” Mrs. Apusenja said. “You were lucky to have an arranged engagement.”
Nonnie slid me a look under lowered lashes. “Lucky to have him disappear and die,” she murmured.
Yikes. “Okay, then, moving along,” I said. “We learned from the police that Samuel had been shot and killed at the airport, so we went back and got Boo.” Okay, so I rearranged it a little. It made for easier telling.
“Boo!” Nonnie shouted. “Where is he?”
“We didn't want to put him on a plane, so he's driving back with Lula. I think they might be here tomorrow or maybe Thursday.”
“Samuel Singh should rot in hell,” Mrs. Apusenja said. “He is a dognapper and a philanderer. After all we did for him. Can you imagine such a terrible person?”
I turned and looked through the window at Ranger. He was in the car, watching with a bemused expression. Ranger found me amusing. He enjoyed watching The Stephanie Plum Show. I didn't usually mind. I'd decided his interest was a mixture of raw lust, curious disbelief, and affection. All good things. And all things that were mutual. Still, every now and then I felt his enjoyment required some payback. And this was one of those times. If I had to deal with Mrs. Apusenja, so did he. Okay, so I was escalating the game, and Ranger would probably take this as a challenge issued, but I deserved to have some fun, too right?
“Do you see that man in the black Porsche?” I asked the women.
They squinted out at Ranger.
“Yes,” they said. “Your partner.”
“He's homeless. He's looking for a place to stay and he might be interested in renting Singh's room.”