Janet Evanovich - Sizzling Sixteen

“No,” I said. “I checked.”

Morelli looked me over. “That’s your viewing uniform.”

“Yes, and the heels are killing me. I’m ready to go home. Would you mind following me? Ranger thinks I need an escort.”

I DETOURED AROUND the fire, and twenty minutes later, I rolled into my apartment parking lot with Morelli on my bumper. We got out of our cars, and Morelli walked me into the building.

I took my shoes off and pushed the elevator button.

“Probably, I should walk you all the way to your door,” Morelli said. “Maybe I should even go inside and check under your bed for monsters.”

The elevator doors opened, and Vinnie was standing there wearing my panties.

“Going up?” he asked.

Morelli’s jaw dropped. “What the hell?”

“I got locked out,” Vinnie said. “I went downstairs to do my laundry, and when I got back to the apartment, the door was closed shut.”

“Those are my panties,” I said.

Vinnie looked down at himself. “I figured you wouldn’t want me running around naked. All my clothes are in the washer.”

“And you decided panties were the way to go?” I asked.

“It was the only thing that fit. They got elastic.”

“Lucille kicked him out, and he didn’t have any place to stay,” I told Morelli.

Morelli grinned at me. “I’ve seen you in those panties, and they look a lot better when you wear them.”

“How’s the bonds office?” Vinnie wanted to know.

“Burned to the ground,” I said.

“Oh jeez!” Vinnie said. “Crap. Shit. Damn.” He punched the elevator wall and stamped his foot.

“This isn’t a good picture,” Morelli said.

“Yeah, and I don’t want the underwear back, either,” I said.

“Maybe you should come home with me, and let Vinnie have the apartment to himself,” Morelli said.

I bit into my lower lip. I left Vinnie alone in my apartment for a few hours, and he was wearing my panties when I came home. I got stomach cramps thinking about what might happen if I left him overnight.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” I said to Morelli. “I can’t afford to throw away any more underwear.”

“Understood. I hate to leave you, on a sinking ship, but I don’t know what more I can do here, unless you want me to arrest him for indecent exposure,” Morelli said. He grabbed me and kissed me, moved me back two steps into the elevator, and pushed the button for the second floor. “Let me know when he leaves. We can go shopping and replace the underwear with something really skimpy.”

Vinnie and I got off at the second floor, and I let us into my apartment.

“You can’t walk around like that,” I said to Vinnie. “You’re freaking me out.” I rummaged through my closet and came up with an old robe.

“I saw that,” Vinnie said, “but I didn’t think I’d look good in it.”

“Have you seen yourself in the panties? It’s why people go blind. Not only don’t they fit, but you’re all lumpy. It’s a hideous sight.”

“Cripes,” Vinnie said. “Just tell me how you feel.”

I held the robe out to him.

Vinnie put the robe on and got a beer out of the fridge. “I bet that fire was arson.”

“Without a doubt.”

“Drager is going to be pissed. Has anybody called him? Do you think I should call?”

I went dead still for a moment, thinking about Drager’s lifeless body lying on his office floor. And then the explosion that had to have obliterated not only all evidence of The Wellington Company, but also of Drager.

“I imagine Rangeman will get in touch with Wellington,” I said. “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to call.”

“I feel like an orphan,” Vinnie said. “I haven’t got Lucille, and I haven’t got my office. I haven’t even got my own underwear.”

I know he made all his own problems, but I felt sorry for him anyway. “Get another beer and we’ll see if we can find a movie to watch.”

By the time I went to bed, Vinnie had retrieved his clothes from the dryer downstairs and was out of my bathrobe. I put the robe in my hamper and told him he could keep the panties. I think he was pleased.

AT NINE IN the morning, Lula, Connie, Vinnie, and I all showed up at the office as if it existed. The fire trucks, EMTs, and police cars were gone, but sooty water still pooled in the gutter. Three buildings were cordoned off with crime-scene tape. The bookstore on one side of the bonds office and the dry cleaner on the other side showed no structural damage. They were smoke-smudged and water-logged, but they were standing intact. The bonds office was a pile of charred rubble.

“Ain’t this a bitch,” Lula said. “My couch is gone. Where am I gonna sit?”

“The office can get rebuilt,” Connie said, “but we’ve lost years of files that we’ll never be able to replace. Phone numbers, addresses, open bonds. They’re all gone.”

“Good riddance,” Vinnie said. “I was in debt up to my gonads. We can make a fresh start.”

“Yeah,” Lula said. “We can buy a new couch. We could get one that vibrates.”

“Reality check,” I said. “Burning down the office wasn’t a friendly gesture. Remember the three men who wanted to kidnap Vinnie but were willing to settle for me? They’re still out there. They probably burned down the office.”

“Only two of them,” Lula said. “Larry got a bum knee.”

“My favorite nail polish was in my desk drawer,” Connie said. “I’m going to have to buy new nail polish.”

“This here’s real sad,” Lula said. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to go. Do I have a job?”

“I’ll call The Wellington Company,” Connie said. “It’s Saturday, but there might be someone working. I’m sure they’ll just move the bonds business into a different location.”

We all waited while Connie tapped the number in and listened for the connection.

“It’s not a working number,” Connie said a minute later.

“What’s with that?” Lula wanted to know.

“It’s the only number I have for them,” Connie said. “I don’t have any cell numbers. Maybe we should go downtown and see if anyone’s working. If I was Drager, and one of my buildings burned down, I’d be at my desk this morning.”

“I’ll drive,” I said.

I knew Drager wasn’t going to be at his desk, but I didn’t want to share that information and have to explain my break-in with Ranger. If I drove everyone downtown, they’d see for themselves. Not to mention I had no idea what else to do. I felt like I was floating in space with no direction. Everyone packed into my SUV, and I took Hamilton to Broad.

“You know what we should do?” Lula said. “We should open our own bail bonds agency. We could call it Big and Beautiful Bail Bonds.”

“You need start-up money to do that,” Vinnie said. “You need money to rent an office. Security deposits. Advance money for the lease. We’d have to buy computers and software, file cabinets, staplers.”

“We could get a loan,” Lula said. “Who’s got credit?”

“Not me,” I said. “I’m a month behind on my rent. I can’t get a loan to buy a new car.”

“Not me,” Vinnie said. “I don’t even have credit with my bookie.”

“Hell,” Lula said. “That’s the understatement of the year. Your bookie wants to kill you.”

“I could go to my family,” Connie said.

We all declined on that one. If we took money from Connie’s family, we’d be owned by the Mob.

“What about you?” Vinnie asked Lula.

“I’m in collection,” Lula said. “I overextended a little. I’m worried someone’s gonna come repossess my shoes.”

The Meagan Building was a block away, and my stomach was in a knot. I stopped for a light, and it was obvious traffic was slow ahead. Only one lane was open. The other was barricaded. The light changed, and I crept up to the Meagan Building. Yellow crime-scene tape blocked off the sidewalk. A fire truck and the fire marshall’s SUV was parked nearby. There was a lot of charred debris on the sidewalk in front of the building, and four guys in hard hats stood talking. They were standing in the road, looking up at the Meagan Building. The windows on the fifth floor were completely blown out. Black soot covered the exterior of the top floors, and the lower floors were grime-streaked.