Janet Evanovich - Takedown Twenty

“Did Bitsy ever play at the Senior Center?” I asked the woman.

“Not that I can remember. I didn’t know her.”

“She would have stood out,” Grandma said.

The lights dimmed, and bells softly chimed. The viewing was over. We filed out, and Grandma made a last stop at the cookie table.

“Do you need a ride home?” I asked her.

“No. I came with Eleanor Krautz. She was visiting Mort Kessler in Slumber Room No. 4. That’s way at the end of the hall, and Eleanor don’t move so fast since she had the hip replacement.”

I felt a hand at my waist, and Ranger leaned in to me. “If I have to spend another ten minutes here I’ll put a bullet in my brain.”

“Don’t you look nice in your suit,” Grandma said to Ranger. “Black is a good color on you.”

Eleanor Krautz pushed her way through the crowd and stage-whispered to Grandma, “Who’s the hottie with your granddaughter?”

“That’s Ranger,” Grandma stage-whispered back at Eleanor. “I don’t think Stephanie knows what to do with him.”

“I’d know what to do with him,” Eleanor said.

“Jeez Louise,” I said. “We can hear this conversation.”

Ranger looked down at me. “I could make suggestions if you’re really in the dark.”

I did a mental eye roll. “Your ten-minute countdown clock is ticking away,” I said to Ranger.

We said goodbye to Grandma and Eleanor and slipped out the side door that led to the parking lot. Three minutes later we were in the Porsche and headed for my apartment.

“Talk to me,” Ranger said.

“I don’t know if it means anything, but all of the murdered women played Bingo. Two regularly played at the Senior Center, and Bitsy Muddle played at the firehouse.”

“Anything else?”

“I spoke to a lot of women while I was making my way through the lobby to the deceased, but I only spoke to one woman who knew all three. She knew them because she played Bingo five days a week. Tuesdays and Wednesdays at the Senior Center, and Thursdays and Fridays at the firehouse.”

“What about Monday?” Ranger asked.

“Online Bingo.”

“Did the three murder victims play online?”

“I don’t know.”

Ranger stopped for a light. “What about their social life? Mutual friends besides the Bingo addict?”

“The last time Melvina went to Bingo she told everyone she had a boyfriend, but no one knew his name or anything about him. It sounded like dating was unusual for her.”

“Ruppert didn’t mention a boyfriend,” Ranger said.

“Did you go through Melvina’s apartment?”

“Yes, but I didn’t come up with anything. It’s estimated that the time of death was around midnight. She was found early the next morning. The police sealed her apartment at ten A.M.”

The thought that some creep was out there murdering women and discarding them like garbage wasn’t sitting great in my stomach.

“I’m feeling queasy,” I said to Ranger. “Could you take it easy on the corners?”

“Are you sick?”

“It’s been a long day, and I’m not good with the whole killing women and throwing them into Dumpsters thing.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the women were all nicely wrapped in a sheet, and the killer left a note on the Dumpster each time so the women would be found.”

“What did the note say?”

Ranger pulled into the parking lot to my apartment building. “ ‘Body inside.’ ”

This was so completely lacking in remorse, and so impersonal, that it annoyed me more than if nothing had been left.

Ranger parked and turned to me. “How would you like to go to Bingo at the Senior Center tomorrow night?”

“Is this another date?”

“No. This is a Rangeman job with full compensation. I’d run through an active minefield before I’d willingly go to Bingo night at the Senior Center.”

I was afraid to ask what was included in full compensation. I suspected it might be the realization of all my sexual fantasies. This was pretty darn tempting, but it wouldn’t be smart.

Ranger walked me to my door. “What’s the word on Bingo?”

I wasn’t excited about Bingo. Been there, done that, and it wasn’t wonderful. In fact, I sucked at Bingo. And the regulars were gonzo Bingo players, working thirty cards at a time. I was lucky if I could keep track of three.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll go to Bingo.”

It wasn’t the paycheck or the promise of the doomsday orgasm that pushed me into the Bingo hall. It was the three dead women. The dead, discarded women nagged at me.

“You’re doing a lot of sighing,” Ranger said. “Is there a problem?”

“It’s complicated.”

Ranger unlocked my door, pulled me to him, and kissed me. The kiss started out gentle and finished with enough heat to raise the temperature in the hallway by ten degrees. Time stood still for a couple beats while we stared into each other’s eyes and contemplated the next step.

Ranger’s cellphone buzzed, he looked at the text message and punched in an answer. “That was from Tank,” he said. “The control room picked up a police communication. They just found a fourth woman in a Dumpster. I’m going to check it out. The Dumpster is in the center of Trenton.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. Not necessary. I’ll let you know what I find.”

SIX

I ROLLED OUT of bed at seven A.M., made coffee and took it into the shower with me. I got out of the shower, toweled off, and examined myself. No warts, no rash, no boils, no hemorrhoids. My hair hadn’t all fallen out during the night. My teeth weren’t rotting in my mouth. Not that I believed in Bella’s ability to give people the eye, but still it was good to confirm that nothing hideous had happened to me while I was sleeping.

It was a little after eight when I got to the office. Lula and Connie were already there. Connie was busy on the computer, and Lula was reading Star magazine. They both looked up when I walked in.

“Well?” Lula asked. “Did you get any?”

I set my messenger bag on the floor and sat in one of the uncomfortable orange plastic chairs in front of the desk. “That’s confidential information.”

“Hunh,” Lula said to Connie. “She didn’t get any.”

I glanced over at Lula. “It was a business meeting.”

“I wouldn’t care if it was a business meeting or a meeting of aliens,” Lula said. “That man is so hot I could butter him up and eat him like a ear of sweet corn.”

Connie choked on her coffee, and I worked hard not to squirm in my seat.

“So where did you go on this business meeting?” Lula asked me.

“We went to the Gillian viewing. Ranger’s been hired to investigate Melvina Gillian’s death.”

“They found another woman last night,” Connie said. “Rose Walchek. Seventy-six years old. Widow. She lived in one of those little row houses on Stanton Street, by the button factory.”

“Strangled?”

“It’s not confirmed, but it sounds like it.”

“It’s bad enough that these women are murdered,” I said, “but I hate that the killer throws them away.”

“I know just what you mean,” Lula said. “It’s disrespectful. Least this guy could do is follow the mob’s example and take these women out to the landfill for a proper burial.”

The front door opened and Morelli limped in. He crooked his finger at me in one of those come here gestures. I followed him outside and around the corner of the building, where he stood hands on hips, staring at his shoes.

“And?” I said.

“Give me a minute. I’m waiting for the pain to go away. I’m off the pills, and walking is a bitch.”

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”