Recap: In order to get the FTA closer to the door, Stephanie pole dances at the strip club.
Ranger
"That was amazing! I can't believe we pulled it off!"
Stephanie was radiating joy. Her face was shining and her eyes bright. As soon as she had led him out the door and to the truck with a promise of alone time she'd cuffed him with a pair of bracelets I'd handed to her. It was actually the only thing I'd done for the capture, aside from helping to get him up into the cab of the truck.
"You did it on your own. I was just backup."
"There's no way I would have had the courage to do it if you hadn't been there though." She pulled her shirt from her bag and pulled it over her head. I was kind of sad to see her covering up. "So now we bring him to the police station?"
I nodded. "Do you want to grab something to eat after? My treat."
"That would be great. Cluck in a Bucket is right next to the police station. Maybe we could grab something and keep looking for Morelli."
I had been hoping to take her out on an actual date-like dinner, but she was too keyed up to be thinking that way. I'd try again later. I was nothing if not patient. I tried to remember if there was anything I would eat at Cluck in a Bucked besides a bottle of water. Maybe they would have some corn? That wouldn't be awful.
We drove to the police station with Stephanie still basking in her success. Clarence fell asleep, grumbling a bit. We had to drag him out of the truck, which took a bit of work, but in 10 minutes she had a body receipt worth $150 to her. At least I didn't have to worry about her eating this week.
As promised, I took her to the drive-in. She got a whole bucket of chicken. I got a salad that looked several days old, and had all the crispness of a potato chip left out for weeks in the South American jungle. And yes, I know exactly how crisp that isn't. Lester was terrible about both restocking our safehouse and cleaning up after himself.
"Can we go to Morelli's place and look around?" she asked, her fingers shiny with grease.
I looked at the clock. Still before 9. "Sure."
I got a key from the super. I didn't need it to unlock the door, but it's good to get permission, and I figured she might be more comfortable if our B&E involved no actual B. We didn't find a lot. No notes with directions scribbled on the desk. No signs that he had been here for several days. There was a desktop computer, with a setup that looked like it was for hard-core computer gaming. I turned it on, hoping to see his Google history. A picture of a canal in Venice popped up, along with a dialog box.
"There's a password. We'd need it to get in."
"Can't you, like, hack it or something?"
I typed a few keys, then shook my head. "His password isn't any of the most common. It's not qwerty, password, abc123, admin, or his family's names. Hacking isn't as easy as it looks on TV, and Morelli is smart enough to know not to use one of the super popular ones that anyone could guess. But I'll leave the computer on and copy down the router information. I have a guy." Hopefully Silvo would have better luck.
"There's nothing in the trash. Nothing at all, I guess he emptied it before he left."
"A trained cop will know what to look for at a crime scene. So they know how to cover their tracks. Still, good to be thorough."
Stephanie held up a key ring. "One thing he can't have cleared out, assuming he hasn't been here for a few days. I found his spare keys. Let's check his mailbox."
We trotted down to the lobby. All the boxes were labeled, except one. Makes sense a cop wouldn't advertise where he lived. Sure enough, the smallest key on the ring opened the box, and a jumble of letters fell out.
"Are we really allowed to do this?" Stephanie asked.
"Best not to ask."
She shuffled through the letters. "Nothing interesting. Just bills and junk mail. Oh, and it looks like his cousin is getting married in a few months."
I nodded. "Still, it was good thinking. Keep the keys in case you want to come back and have another look. No need to bother the super again."
She stared at the key ring. Specifically the key fob. I remembered the look of abject misery on her face as she had sat in the rusted heap of metal she had met me in. Shit.
"I'm going to return the key to the super. Do you need a ride home?" She had two choices. Let me drive her back in my truck, or do what I knew she was thinking about.
"That's OK. I'll….walk."
"Sure Babe." Whatever she needed to tell herself.
