'And I think it's the wrong one. The little girl's parents look solid. And Ranger's been regularly sending child support. I don't think he'd take the girl without telling her mom. A while ago, Ranger mentioned that he had a daughter, but I got the impression it wasn't common knowledge. So either it's someone who was at one time very close to Ranger, or else it's someone close to the little girl or her family.'
'And I want to know this because…'
'Because you want to close Carmen's case, and it's possible she was shot by the Un-Ranger.'
'Something I've learned with police work,' Morelli said. 'It's good to have theories, but don't lock yourself into them. In the end, it's facts that count, not theories. Carmen could have been killed by some random maniac. And Ranger could easily be leading his own double life. No one knows what's in Ranger's head. There are too many times a crime doesn't get solved because the investigator followed an obvious but wrong lead and ignored looking for anything else until it was too late and all other leads were cold.'
'Point taken,' I said.
'Well?' Lula asked when I returned to the office.
'A single bullet to the head,' I told her. 'Not self-inflicted.'
'Right in front of the office,' Lula said. 'Gives me the creeps.'
'I'm feeling stressed,' Connie said. 'This has been a really shitty morning.'
'I bet I got something that'll cheer you up,' Lula said. 'This here specialty shop I know about was open this morning, and I stopped on my way to the office. I got another singing gig tonight, and I needed a new outfit. Everybody wait here, and I'll try it on.'
Five minutes later, Lula swung out of the bathroom and paraded around the bonds office in a one-piece jumpsuit-type thing made out of glaring white vinyl. The bottom was short-shorts that sort of got lost in Lula's ass, and the top was strapless, squishing her boobs up so they bulged out everywhere. The outfit was accessorized with four-inch-spike-heeled white vinyl b
oots that came to just below her knee.
'Now when someone hits me with a onion ring and it leaves a grease spot I can just wipe it off with Lysol,' Lula said.
'Smart,' I said to Lula. 'Are you sure you want to do this?'
'Fuckin' A. I'm expanding my horizons, remember? This could be a whole new career for me. Not that I don't like bounty huntering, but I feel this is a time when I should be open to new opportunities. Anyways, the What's got a job lined up at the Golden Times Senior Center in Mercerville tonight.'
Connie and I were speechless. Lula was going to perform in a white vinyl Band-Aid in front of a bunch of impaired senior citizens.
'I know what you're probably thinking,' Lula said.
'You're thinking I probably don't have to worry about them throwing onion rings… but you never know. Some of those old people are real feisty.'
That's not what I was thinking,' Connie said. 'I was thinking you're going to give them all a heart attack if you wear that getup.'
Lula looked down at herself. 'You think it's too much?'
'I think it's not enough,' Connie said.
'What's Sally wearing?' I asked Lula.
'I got him a matching thong.' Lula glanced down at her watch. 'I gotta go. We got a rehearsal this afternoon, and then we're playing at six o'clock on account of the old folks don't stay up real late.'
'Life just gets weirder and weirder,' Connie said, taking in the full rear view of Lula running off to the bathroom to change.
I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed for the door. 'See you Monday.'
'Don't be late,' Connie said. 'We have the last group of mutants to interview Monday morning.'
Goody. Goody.
Morelli was still standing across the street, hands on hips, keeping watch over the crime scene. The medical examiner had arrived, along with the meat wagon. A tech truck was angled into the curb, the back doors open. A squad car was double-parked, strobe flashing. A uniform was keeping traffic moving.
I didn't often see Morelli at work, and I was struck by a few things that I already knew but didn't always think about. He was movie-star handsome in a rugged, lean and muscled way. He was good at his job. He carried more responsibility than I could manage. And his job was really crappy. Every day he slogged through death and misery, seeing the worst side of society. I suppose once in a while good people walked through his life, but I didn't think it was the norm.
I slid behind the wheel of the Mini and motored off. In a few minutes I was back at my condo. I went straight to my computer and brought my e-mail up. Five more ads for penis enhancement, three ads for big-busted women, two ads for cheap mortgage money, and an answer from Nash in Virginia.