Fearless Fourteen - Janet Evanovich [85]
Fine with me. My car was parked out front. Now I didn’t have to walk halfway around the block. “I won’t be long,” I told Morelli, wasting no time getting through the kitchen and dining room. “Maybe an hour.”
Morelli was close behind me. “Is this about Loretta?”
“Yep.”
“I’m going with you.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t want to know,” I told him.
“And Ranger is in on this?”
“He’s not in on it. I asked him to help me. He has skills I lack.”
“Such as?”
“He’s good with locks.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to know, but if anything happens to you, I’ll go after Ranger, and it won’t be pretty.”
“Nothing’s going to happen.” Probably.
I ran to my car and took off. The fourth partner saw the sign, and that meant he was watching the house. I didn’t want to be followed, so I wound around in the Burg, looking for headlights behind me. When I felt absolutely safe, I cut across town to Route 1 and headed for Stanley Zero’s apartment complex.
Ranger was already there when I pulled into the lot. He was in his black Porsche Turbo, watching the building. I parked next to him, and he got out. He was wearing black jeans and T-shirt and a black windbreaker. Nothing with the Rangeman insignia. He looked at my ghoulish complexion and smiled.
“Long story,” I said.
“I know the story. I’m just sorry I missed seeing you before you faded.”
We walked to the entrance, and when we got to the door, he draped an arm across my shoulders. We were a couple, home from date night. When Ranger got close to me like this, I could smell his Bulgari shower gel. I’ve used the same gel, and the scent is fleeting on me. It lingers on Ranger.
Zero’s apartment was sealed with yellow crime scene tape. A DO NOT ENTER notice was tacked to the door. Ranger peeled the tape back, used a pick on the lock, and in seconds we were inside. Nothing keeps Ranger out when he wants to get in. I’ve seen him open a door when a slide bolt was thrown. It’s borderline eerie.
We pulled on disposable gloves and methodically moved through the apartment. There were smudges where the crime lab had searched for prints, and marks on the carpet where the body had fallen.
“I’m looking for something that might give me the identity of Dominic Rizzi’s fourth partner,” I told Ranger.
“Either the killer swept the apartment, or else the crime lab did an unusually thorough evidence collection,” Ranger said. “I’m not finding anything. No cell phone, no computer, no address book.”
“I had a few minutes to look around after I discovered the body, and I don’t remember seeing a computer or phone. I went through all his pockets, with the exception of the clothes he was wearing. I couldn’t bring myself to touch the body.”
“He was dressed?”
“In jeans and a shirt. His boots were beside the bed.”
“They’re still there,” Ranger said. He walked into the bedroom and picked up one of the boots. “I know it’s a cliché, but people really do hide things in their shoes.” He removed the padded insert and found a scrap of paper with a phone number on it.
“Damn,” I said. “You’re good.”
Ranger smiled. “That’s what they tell me. Do you recognize the number?”
“No, but it’s local.”
Ranger called his control room and gave them the number. Two minutes later, the answer came back. The number belonged to Alma Rizzi.
So Dom was using his mother’s cell phone, and Zero hadn’t wanted to share that information with his partner. He didn’t trust himself to remember the number, so he hid it in his shoe. This was quite the group of guys.
I dialed the number, but there was no answer.
“Nothing in the other boot,” Ranger said. “I think we’ve done as much as we can here.”
We let ourselves out, took the stairs, crossed the small lobby, and walked to our cars.
“Not much of a date,” Ranger said.
“Not true. I got a phone number.”
He kissed me on the cheek. “You could have gotten more than a phone number.”
“I’ll take a rain check.”
_______
MORELLI REMOTED THE television off when I walked into the house. He stood and stretched. “Well?”
“Someone picked Zero’s apartment clean.