'I'm sorry I missed it. I'm not being sarcastic either. I'm really sorry I missed it. I assume you've got a full contingent of Ranger's Merry Men watching your back.'
'Yep. Mostly I pick up vigilantes, but we think Scrog followed me for a while this afternoon.'
'Ranger called it in to me, and we determined the car was stolen. I reached the parking garage shortly after Ranger. Scrog slipped through my fingers too.'
'Will you be at Carmen's viewing tomorrow?'
'Yeah. We've called in the National Guard to help with crowd control.'
'You haven't!'
'No, but we probably should. I was getting ready to go to bed,' Morelli said. 'I don't suppose you want to join me?'
'That would be nice, but I have to stay here and hope there's an attempt made to kidnap me.'
'Other men have girlfriends with safe normal jobs,' Morelli said. 'Like swallowing swords and getting shot out of a cannon.' And he hung up.
Ranger walked in and caught me with my head in the refrigerator.
'The food fairy left sandwiches, salad, fresh fruit, bagels and cream cheese and lox from Nova Scotia. But no dessert,' I told Ranger.
'I don't eat dessert.'
'Yes, but it's my refrigerator.'
Ranger removed the gun he'd been wearing and placed it on the kitchen counter beside his car keys. 'I'll pass the word to Ella.'
I nuked a bag of microwave popcorn and dumped it into a bowl. 'I talked to Morelli. He said you brought him in to help tail Scrog this afternoon. That was very classy.'
'Yeah, I'm a classy guy.' Ranger scooped up a handful of popcorn. 'A little girl's life is at stake. That doesn't leave much room for ego and turf wars.'
I brought the popcorn into the living room and turned the television on. 'Has anyone talked to Scrog's parents?'
'They're being watched, but no contact has been made. The feds are running that show, and they're playing it very quiet. My understanding is that Scrog was estranged from his parents. He wanted to be a cop, and they wanted him to go into a monastery.'
'Any news from the underground that he's trying to buy drugs or guns?'
'No. Nothing.'
'Sightings?'
'Constantly. They go to the
hotline. So far they aren't seeing a pattern. There was a rash of sightings in South Beach yesterday, but it turned out to be Ricky Martin.'
I was working my way through my 472 worthless cable stations, and Ranger's cell phone rang. He answered and in a moment was on his feet, yanking me to mine.
'One of my men just got shot,' Ranger said.
He had his hand wrapped around my wrist, moving me through the apartment. He grabbed his keys and his gun off the kitchen counter without breaking stride. He was out the door and down the hall, his legs longer than mine, forcing me to run to keep up.
It's pretty much a straight shot down Hamilton to St Francis Hospital from my apartment building. If there's no traffic and you hit the lights right, it can be done in less than ten minutes. We were in the silver BMW with Ranger behind the wheel, his cell phone on drive mode.
Hal was on the line, fielding calls through Ranger's central dispatch. 'Manuel and Zero responded to a break-in at the bonds office,' Hal said. 'Manuel approached the office and was shot three times, through the plate glass window. The perp left through the back door. Do you want me to patch you through to Zero? He just arrived at the hospital with Manuel.'
'No,' Ranger said. 'I'll take it from here.'
We were a block from the bonds office and traffic was stopped in front of us. Police strobes pulsed beyond the traffic. Ranger turned off Hamilton and wove his way through side streets. Five minutes later, Ranger turned onto the street leading to the emergency entrance at the hospital.