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with Tank.”
    â€œHe isn’t going to throw any more people out windows, is he?”
    â€œHard to say, Babe.”
    â€œI don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”
    Ranger took his SEALs hat off and put it on me, tucking my hair behind my ears, letting his hands linger a moment too long. “You have to believe in what you’re doing.”
    That could be a problem. And Ranger could be a problem. I was feeling much too attracted to him. Ranger wasn’t listed under
potential boyfriends
in my Rolodex. Ranger was listed under
crazed mercenaries.
An attraction to Ranger would be like chasing after the doomsday orgasm.
    I took a steadying breath. “I guess I could try a shift,” I said. “See how it goes.”
    I WAS STILL wearing the hat when Ranger dropped me off at my apartment. I removed the cap and held it out to him. “Don’t forget your SEALs hat.”
    Ranger looked at me from behind dark glasses. His eyes hidden. His thoughts unreadable. His voice soft. “Keep it. Looks good on you.”
    â€œIt’s a righteous hat.”
    He smiled. “Live up to it, Babe.”
    I pushed through the double glass doors into the lobby. I was about to take the stairs when the elevator opened and Mrs. Bestler leaned out. “Going up,” she said. “Step to the rear of the car.”
    Mrs. Bestler was eighty-three and had an apartment on the third floor. When things got boring she played elevator operator.
    â€œMorning, Mrs. Bestler,” I said. “Second floor.”
    She hit the two button and eyeballed me. “Looks like you’ve been working. Catch any bad guys today?”
    â€œHelped a friend clean an apartment.”
    Mrs. Bestler smiled. “What a good girl.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened. “Second floor,” Mrs. Bestler sang out. “Better dresses. Designer suits. Ladies’ lounge.”
    I let myself into my apartment and went straight to the phone machine and its blinking red light.
    I had two messages. The first was from Morelli, and it was for dinner. Miss Popularity, that’s me.
    â€œMeet you at Pino’s at six,” Morelli said.
    Morelli’s invitations always produced mixed emotions. The initial reaction was a sexual rush at the sound of his voice, the rush was followed by a queasy stomach while I considered his motives, and the queasy stomach eventually gave way to curiosity and anticipation. Ever the optimist.
    The second message was from Mabel. “A man just came asking about Fred,” Mabel said. “Something about a business deal, and he needed to find Fred right away. I explained how I couldn’t help him, but I said you were on the job, so he shouldn’t worry. I thought you might want to know.”
    I called Mabel back and asked who the man was and what he looked like.
    â€œHe was about my height,” she said. “And he had brown hair.”
    â€œCaucasian?”
    â€œYes. And now that you mention it, he didn’t give me his name.”
    â€œWhat land of business deal was he talking about?”
    â€œI don’t know. He didn’t say.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Let me know if he bothers you again.”
    I checked in with the office to see if there were any new FTAs and was told no luck. I called my best friend, Mary Lou, but she couldn’t talk because her youngest kid was sick with a cold, and the dog had eaten a sock and had just pooped it out on the living room rug.
    I was contemplating Rex’s soup can with new appreciation when the phone rang.
    â€œI got it,” Grandma said. “I got a name for you. I was at the beauty parlor this morning getting a set, and Harriet Schnable was there for a perm, and she said she heard at bingo that Fred’s been paying calls on Winnie Black. Harriet isn’t one of those to make something of nothing.”
    â€œDo you know Winnie Black?”
    â€œOnly through the