07 Seven Up (25 page)

“And you'd like to rescue them.”

“Yes.”

Ranger smiled. “Might be fun.”

Ranger has an odd sense of fun.

"I got Louie D's home address from Connie. Louie D's wife has supposedly been locked up there since Louie died. Estelle Colucci, Louie's sister, is down there, too. She left for Richmond the same day Mooner disappeared. I think somehow the women kidnapped Mooner and took him to Richmond. And I bet Dougie's also in Richmond. Maybe

Estelle and Sophia got fed up with Benny and Ziggy bumbling around and decided to take matters into their own hands." Unfortunately, my theory got a lot fuzzier from there on out. One of the reasons for the fuzziness was that Estelle Colucci didn't fit the description of the crazy-eyed woman. In fact, she didn't even fit the description of the woman in the limo.

“Do you want to stop home first for anything?” Ranger asked. “Or do you want to leave now?”

I looked back at the bike. I had to stash the bike somewhere. Probably it wasn't a good idea to tell my mother I was going to Richmond with Ranger. And I didn't feel entirely comfortable just leaving the bike in my parking lot. The seniors in my building tend to run over objects smaller than a Cadillac. God knows, I didn't want to leave it with Morelli. Morelli would insist on going to Richmond. Morelli was as competent at this sort of operation as Ranger. In fact, Morelli might even be better than Ranger because Morelli wasn't as crazy. Problem was, this wasn't a police operation. This was a bounty hunter operation.

“I need to do something with the bike,” I told Ranger. “I don't want to leave it here.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll have Tank take care of it until we get back.”

“He needs the key.”

Ranger looked at me like I was a very dim bulb.

“Right,” I said. “What was I thinking?” Tank didn't need a key. Tank was one of Ranger's merry men and Ranger's merry men had better fingers than Ziggy.

We left the Burg and headed south, picking the turnpike up at Bordentown. The rain started a few minutes later, a fine mist at first, growing more steady as the miles flew by. The Mercedes hummed along, following the ribbon of road. The night enveloped us, the darkness broken only by the lights on the dash.

All the comforts of a womb with the technology of a jet airplane cockpit. Ranger pushed a button on the CD player and classical music filled the car. A symphony. Not Godsmack, but nice anyway.

By any calculations it was about a five-hour trip. Ranger wasn't the sort to make small talk. Ranger kept his life and his thoughts to himself. So I reclined my seat and closed my eyes. “If you get tired and want me to drive just let me know,” I said.

I relaxed back into the seat and wondered about Ranger. When we first met he was all muscle and street swagger. He talked the talk and walked the walk of the Hispanic end of the ghetto, dressing in fatigues and SWAT black. Now suddenly he was dressed in cashmere, listening to classical music, sounding more like Harvard Law and less like Coolio.

“You don't by any chance have a twin brother, do you?” I asked.

“No,” he said softly. “There's only one of me.”

I WOKE UP when the car stopped moving. It was no longer raining, but it was very dark. I looked at the digital clock on the dash. It was almost three. Ranger was studying the large brick colonial on the opposite side of the street.

“Louie D's house?” I asked.

Ranger nodded.

It was a large house on a small lot. The houses around it were similar. They were all relatively new houses. No mature trees or shrubs. In twenty years it would be a lovely neighborhood. Right now it seemed a little too new, too bare. There were no lights shining in Louie D's house. No cars parked at the curb. Cars were kept in garages or driveways in this neighborhood.

“Stay here,” Ranger said. “I need to look around.”

I watched him cross the street and disappear into the house shadows. I cracked the window and strained to hear sounds but heard nothing. Ranger had been Special Forces in another life, and he's lost none of his skills. He moves like a large lethal cat. I, on the other hand, move like a water buffalo. Which I suppose was why I was waiting in the car.

He emerged from the far side of the house and sauntered back to the Mercedes. He slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.

“It's locked up tight,” he said. “The alarm is on and most of the windows have heavy drapes drawn. Not much to see. If I knew more about the house and its routine I'd go in and look around. I'm reluctant to do that not knowing how many people are inside.” He pulled away from the curb and rolled down the street. “We're fifteen minutes away from a business district. The computer tells me there's a strip mall, some fast-food places, and a motel. I had Tank get us rooms. You can have a couple hours to sleep and get freshened up. My suggestion is to knock on Mrs. D's door at nine and finesse ourselves into the house.”

“Works for me.”

Tank had gotten rooms in a classic two-story chain motel. Not luxurious but not awful, either. Both rooms were on the second floor. Ranger opened my door and hit the light, giving the room a quick scan. Everything looked in order. No mad man lurking in darkened corners.

“I'll come for you at eight-thirty,” he said. “We can get breakfast and then say hello to the ladies.”

“I'll be ready.”

He pulled me toward him, lowered his mouth to mine, and kissed me. The kiss was slow and deep. His hands were firm on my back. I grasped his shirt and leaned into him. And I felt his body respond.

A vision of myself in the wedding gown popped into my head. “Shit!” I said.

“That's not the usual reaction I get when I kiss a woman,” Ranger said.

“Okay, here's the truth. I'd really like to sleep with you, but I have this stupid wedding gown . . .”

Ranger's lips swept along my jawline to my ear. “I could make you forget the gown.”

“You could. But that would create really terrible problems.”

“You have a moral dilemma.”

“Yes.”

He kissed me again. Lightly this time. He stepped back and a small humorless smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I don't want to put any pressure on you and your moral dilemma, but you better hope you can bring Eddie DeChooch in all by yourself because if I help you I'll collect my fee.”

And then he left. He closed the door behind him, and I could hear him walk partway down the hall and enter his own room.

Yikes.

I stretched out on the bed, fully clothed, lights on, eyes wide. When my heart stopped hammering in my chest and my nipples started to relax I got up and splashed water on my face. I set the alarm for eight. Yippee, four hours to sleep. I turned the light out and crawled into bed. Couldn't sleep. Too many clothes. I got up and stripped down to my panties and crawled into bed. Nope, couldn't sleep that way, either. Not enough clothes. I put my shirt back on, crawled back under the covers, and instantly clonked off to dreamland.

WHEN RANGER KNOCKED on my door at eight-thirty I was as ready as I was going to get. I'd taken a shower and done the best I could with my hair in the absence of gel. I carry a lot of stuff in my bag. Who would have thought I'd need gel.

Ranger had coffee and fruit and a whole-grain bagel for breakfast. I had an Egg McMuffin, a chocolate shake, and breakfast fries. Plus Ranger was treating so I got a Disney action figure.

It was warmer in Richmond than it had been in Jersey. Some of the trees and early azaleas were flowering. The sky was clear and struggling to be blue. It was going to be a good day for bullying a couple old ladies.

Traffic was heavy on the major roads but disappeared the instant we entered Louie D's neighborhood. School buses had come and gone, and the adult inhabitants were off to yoga class, the gourmet market, the tennis club, Gymboree, and work. The neighborhood had a lived-in, get-up-and-go feel this morning. With the exception of Louie D's house. Louie D's house looked exactly as it had at 3:00 A.M. Dark and still.

Ranger called Tank and was told Ronald left his house at eight with the cooler. Tank had followed him south to Whitehorse and then turned back once he was certain Ronald was on his way to Richmond.

“So what do you think of the house?” I asked Ranger.

“I think it looks like it has a secret.”

We both got out of the car and walked to the door. Ranger rang the bell. After a moment the door was opened by a woman in her early sixties. Her brown hair was cut short and framed a long, narrow face dominated by thick black eyebrows. She was dressed in black. Black shirtwaist dress on her small, wiry frame, black cardigan sweater, black loafers, and dark stockings. She wore no makeup or jewelry other than a simple silver cross around her neck. Her eyes were dark-rimmed and dull, as if she hadn't slept for a very long time.

“Yes?” she said without animation. No smile on her thin, colorless lips.

“I'm looking for Estelle Colucci,” I said.

“Estelle isn't here.”

“Her husband said she would be visiting.”

“Her husband was wrong.”

Ranger moved forward and the woman blocked his way. “Are you Mrs. DeStefano?” Ranger asked.

“I'm Christina Gallone. Sophia DeStefano is my sister.”

“We need to speak to Mrs. DeStefano,” Ranger said.

“She's not seeing visitors.”

Ranger pushed her back into the room. “I think she is.”

“No!” Christina said, pulling at Ranger. “She's not well. You have to leave!”

A second woman stepped out of the kitchen, into the foyer. She was older than Christina, but the resemblance was there. She wore the same black dress and shoes and simple silver cross. She was the taller of the two, her short brown hair shot with gray. Her face was more animated than her sister's, but her eyes were eerily empty, sucking light in and giving nothing out. My first impression was that she was medicated. My second guess would be that she was insane. And I was pretty sure I was looking at the crazy-eyed woman who shot Mooner.

“What's going on?” she asked.

“Mrs. DeStefano?” Ranger asked.

“Yes.”

“We'd like to speak to you about the disappearance of two young men.”

The sisters looked at each other and the nape of my neck prickled. The living room was to my left. It was dark and forbidding, formally furnished with polished mahogany tables and heavy brocade upholstery. The drapes were closed, allowing no sunlight to penetrate the interior. A small study opened to my right. The door was partially open, revealing a cluttered desk. Again, curtains were drawn in the study.

“What would you like to know,” Sophia said.

“Their names are Walter Dunphy and Douglas Kruper, and we'd like to know if you've seen them.”

“I don't know either of them.”

“Douglas Kruper is in violation of his bail bond,” Ranger said. “We have reason to believe he's here in this house, and as apprehension agents for Vincent Plum we're authorized to conduct a search.”

“You'll do no such thing. You will leave immediately or I'll call the police.”

“If you'd feel more comfortable having the police present while we search, by all means place the call.”

Again, the exchange of silent communication between the sisters, Christina twisting her skirt in her fingers now.

“I don't appreciate this intrusion,” Sophia said. “It's disrespectful.”

Uh-oh, I thought. There goes my tongue . . . just like Sophia's poor dead neighbor.

Ranger stepped to the side and opened the door to the coat closet. He had his gun in his hand, at his side.

“Stop that,” Sophia said. “You have no right to search this house. Do you know who I am? Do you realize I'm the widow of Louis DeStefano?”

Ranger opened another door. Powder room.

“I command you to stop or suffer the consequences,” Sophia said.

Ranger opened the door to the study and flipped the light on, watching the women while investigating the house.

I followed his lead and walked through the living room and dining room, turning the lights on. I walked through the kitchen. There was a locked door in a hallway just off the kitchen. Pantry or cellar probably. I was reluctant to investigate. I didn't have a gun. And even if I had a gun, I wouldn't be much good at using it.

Sophia suddenly came after me in the kitchen. “Out of there!” she shouted, grabbing me by the wrist, yanking me forward. “You will get out of my kitchen.”

I jerked away from her. And in a motion I can only describe as reptilian, Sophia reached into a kitchen drawer and came out with a gun. She turned and aimed and shot Ranger. And then she turned on me.

Without thinking, acting totally from blind fear, I lunged at her and took her down to the floor. The gun skidded away and I scuttled after it. Ranger got to it before I did. He calmly picked it up and put it in his pocket.

I was on my feet, not sure what to do. The sleeve of Ranger's cashmere jacket was soaked with blood. “Should I call for help?” I asked Ranger.

He shrugged out of the jacket and looked at his arm. “It's not bad,” he said. “Get me a towel for now.” He reached behind him and brought out cuffs. “Cuff them together.”

“Don't touch me,” Sophia said. “You touch me and I'll kill you. I'll scratch your eyes out.”

I closed a bracelet on Christina's wrist and tugged her toward Sophia. “Hold your hand out,” I said to Sophia.

“Never,” she said. And she spit at me.

Ranger moved closer. “Hold your hand out or I'll shoot your sister.”

“Louie, do you hear me, Louie?” Sophia shouted, looking up, presumably beyond the ceiling. “Do you see what's happening? Do you see the disgrace? Jesus, God,” she wailed. “Jesus, God.”

“Where are they?” Ranger asked. “Where are the two men?”

“They're mine,” Sophia said. “I won't give them up. Not until I get what I want. That moron DeChooch, hiring his fence to drive the heart back to Richmond. Too lazy, too ashamed to bring the heart back himself. And do you know what that little pisser brought me? An empty cooler. Thought he could get away with it. Him and his friend.”

“Where are they?” Ranger asked again.

“They're where they should be. In hell. And they're going to stay there until they tell me what they did with the heart. I want to know who has the heart.”