Chapter Twelve

I didn't know what Ranger had in mind for our date tonight, but I was 75% sure it was a lead. Well. Maybe 60%. Usually when he asked me to wear something distracting it was because he had a target in mind, but then he'd never offered to take me dancing before.

I did a mental rundown of all the clothes in my closet. I had a few things that might work. The black sheath dress was probably too snug. Wouldn't want my skirt riding up if there really was dancing involved. Of course, I had that great red dress with the swirly skirt. It had a low neckline, a high hem, and it clung pretty tight to my body in all the right places. All it really needed was a great pair of sexy red shoes. Now, I realize I had a perfectly good pair of black heels at home, but the fact that I wasn't scraping by this month even after buying a car would have made it a crime not to get just the right shoes.

And hour later, I was leaving the shoe department at Quakerbridge Mall with a big smile and a pair of stilettos that would make a priest burn.

I took a little detour on my way home and stopped in to see Mooner. He lived in a row house on Grant with two other guys. It's always a safe bet that Mooner would be home during the day. He had an endless progression of meaningless jobs that usually took up his evenings, sometimes his nights, but mostly Mooner watched hours of reruns on television and played lots of video games. Like a perpetual teenager, Mooner and his best friend Dougie skipped over the growing up part of becoming adults.

Not that I'm one to talk.

Mooner answered the door with one of his broadest Moon Man smiles. "Dude! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hey, Moon. Do you got a minute?"

"Anything for you," he said, holding the door wider. The place was bachelor central. A battered couch with ugly striped brocade upholstery sat in front of the television with a big blue Lazyboy recliner. Both of which looked like they'd been found on the side of the road with the rest of the furniture. Mooner's roommates, Huey and Zero, were too focused on playing Call of Duty to notice that a woman had invaded their space. That was probably for the best, given that they were both in little more than their underwear.

"Is there someplace quieter?" I asked Mooner, realizing it was a stroke of luck on my part that he was fully dressed.

"Absolutely. Mi Casa es Su Casa. I was just thinking about grabbing some nosh anyway, if you wanna scavenge."

His kitchen was little and hadn't been cleaned in a while. Mooner went for the cupboard and pulled out the peanut butter and a package of graham crackers. He offered me some, but I politely declined. "I was wondering if you knew anything more about the bad chronic you mentioned the other day. Something about it came up in an investigation I'm on."

"Dude. That's a bummer. Are you after anybody I know?"

"Mini?"

Mooner nodded big enough to swing his straight, shoulder length brown hair. "She's a cool chick. Like, totally mellow. She and I have been known to have the occasional professional relationship. Her product was primo. Only high quality organic. Good local suppliers. Nothing hinky."

"Hinky?"

"I only know what I've heard. Zero was just telling me about a friend of his who had a really bad trip last week. Like, blacked out and woke up in a dumpster bad. And he's not the only one. People are getting real mum about it, but from what I can tell, it's pretty much everywhere."

"It can't be traced back to a single dealer?"

Mooner shook his head with that same exaggerated movement. "As far as I know, Mini and her compadres are clean. Up the chain. But there's lots of guys out there that aren't as conscientious, if you know what I mean."

I knew exactly what he meant. Sometimes it came in handy knowing how to speak Moon Man. "You said it was coming up from Mexico?"

"That's what Mini said last time I saw her. She was pretty miffed. Said a supplier was knocking boots with the cartels. I'm not insider or anything, though."

"What else do you know about Mini? I need to find her."

"She's got a route. Mostly colleges. Real loyal clientele. She'll make house calls, though."

"Do you have a number?"

"Might." He set down the graham cracker he'd been dipping in the peanut butter and started riffling through drawers. He came up with a torn scrap of paper with a number written in ink. "It's weird you have to track her down. I mean, she's no space cadet. Really got her shit together, you know? No way she forgot her court date."

I was starting the get that impression. I thanked Mooner and left with more questions than answers.

o o o

I picked up a meatball sub at Pino's on the way home. Dropped my bag on the counter by Rex's cage. He flinched in his soup can, but didn't come out to investigate. I tore off a bit of sandwich bread and dropped it into his food dish on top of the hamster crunchies. He'd appreciate it later when he was done snoozing.

I pulled the scrap of paper Mooner had given me out of the bag and looked at it while I ate my lunch. I punched the number into my phone and hit send. It rang for a minute, and then went to voicemail. "Mini? This is Stephanie. I got your number from Mooner. I was hoping we could talk about some things." I left a callback number and hung up. Vague. Non-threatening. Hopefully she'd think I was a potential customer.

She hadn't returned my call by the time I'd finished lunch, so I moved back to the files Tank had given me. It was hard to know what my rendezvous with Ranger would entail, but it wasn't likely he'd get this invested in my chump change possession case if he didn't think it had to do with Alvarez. And if it did, I wanted to be prepared. After a few hours, though, my mind started wandering. By dinnertime, I'd become too preoccupied with the preparations I would need to make to be ready and I finally pushed the files aside.

I figured it was a safe bet that this date wouldn't involve dinner, since he wasn't picking me up until 9, so I threw together a peanut butter and olive sandwich and ate standing up in the kitchen before I headed into my bathroom. I took my time showering. Scrubbed every inch and shaved my legs up past my knee. Then I thought better and shaved all the way up. You never know, right? I used some styling gel and blew my hair dry, coaxing my frizzy waves into being not only manageable but pretty darn hot, if I do say so myself. A little liner and a few coats of mascara. Then a little violet eye shadow to complete the effect. The last thing I added was some bright red lipgloss. It would look utterly stunning with the dress and the shoes.

The heels added a good four inches to my height and made my legs look like they went on forever under the swirly skirt. I'd chosen my best red panties to match, hoping that it might not be as obvious if my skirt swirled too high. That and they went with my best pushup bra. The ladies would be on full display tonight.

I looked at my reflection to take it all in. Damn. Even I was distracted. I looked at my watch. Twenty minutes to spare. I debated what to do with myself for twenty minutes. Could go back to the files. Or I could try Mini again. I wasn't sure if Ranger expected me to meet him in the parking lot, or if he was going to pick me up from my door like a real date.

I got a hot flash just thinking about him standing in my apartment, looking me up and down with that searing gaze of his. Like a hungry predator eyeing his next meal.

I ended up waiting for him in the lobby downstairs. Half out of nerves and half out of fear. The fear being that Ranger would walk into my apartment, have a libido attack over the sexy red dress, and we would end up stripping down and making love instead of following whatever lead he had in mind.

The other part of that fear was that he wouldn't.

Either way, best not to leave it to chance.

I stepped out of the lobby when I heard the 911 pull up. Ranger's eyes were anchored to me. I didn't give him a chance to come around to open my door. I just slid into the seat beside him and crossed my ankles, twisting to reach the seatbelt. I could feel his eyes move across every inch of me.

He caught my hand around the buckle when I pulled it across my chest, his touch lingering as he guided it deliberately into its cradle, leaning into me in the effort until we were only an inch apart in the intimate interior of his sports car. "I see you took my directions very seriously."

"You said to wear something distracting."

"Babe. If every eye isn't on you the second we get there, they're either blind or stupid."

"Or gay," I offered, but he shook his head.

"Even the gay ones will be watching you in those shoes."

His shoulder was pressed against mine, his intoxicating scent making it hard to do anything but breath. His black eyes dropped to my chest, watching it rise and fall at an increasing pace. Then a wicked smile tipped up the corner of his mouth. He straightened up in his seat and gripped the wheel, his other hand on the gear shift.

"This is going to be fun."