Look Alive Twenty-Five (Stephanie Plum #25)(38)

“We can turn the door sign around at five o’clock,” Stretch said. “That’ll give us an hour and a half to reorganize. Someone has to make a store run. We’ve never done this many covers before. We’re out of everything.”

“I’ll make the store run,” I said. “Give me a list.”





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


RANGER STOOD BY the shopping cart while I threw bags of bread and rolls into it.

“Have you checked with your office?” I asked him. “Do you have any leads on Hal?”

“Nothing I’d call a lead, but it’s early. Right now, we’re gathering information from a lot of different sources.”

“Legally?”

“Sometimes.”

Ranger employed a bunch of ex-cons who had extraordinary skills. Hackers, pickpockets, second-story experts, locksmiths, and safecrackers. His clients were kept safe by men who knew how the bad guys operated and knew how to stop them. These men also had contacts who could be useful at retrieving stolen property and missing deli managers.

“The rye bread feels stale,” I said. “Do you think I should pass on it?”

“I think it doesn’t matter if it’s stale as long as it’s not covered in blue mold. The people who are standing in line to get into the deli aren’t interested in the food. They’re there for the freak show.”

This was true. The deli had turned into a freak show. Workers disappeared without a trace. Weird sandwiches came out of the kitchen. Customers got mooned by the waitress. And the result of the freak show was a packed deli.

“Harry must have mixed emotions about the deli,” I said. “He took possession of it and instantly started having problems. On the other hand, the problems seem to be making the deli a huge success.”

“I doubt Harry would be bothered by any of those problems,” Ranger said. “He’s made his share of people disappear in the past. The only difference is that most of those people were found shortly after they were shot, choked, or bludgeoned with a shovel.”

We moved from the bread aisle to frozen foods and filled a second cart with French fries and onion rings.

“I’m seeing a whole new side of you,” I said to Ranger. “Who would have thought you’d be so at home making sandwiches and shopping for food?”

“Domestic Ranger.”

“Exactly. You’re going to make some lucky lady a wonderful husband someday.”

He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. “I have other marital skills. Would you like to see them?”

“Not in the frozen food section.”

Ranger grinned. “Name the place.”

“I’ll give it some thought.”

“You’re playing with me,” Ranger said.

“And you?”

“I’m not playing.”

When I’m this close to Ranger, and his lips are brushing against my ear, it’s difficult to think beyond the desire to rip his clothes off. Fortunately, we were in a supermarket, and by the time we got to the car I would have my mind redirected to other activities . . . like finding Hal.

We added jars of pickles and sauerkraut to the cart and checked out.

“Maybe you should add extra cameras to the deli,” I said to Ranger.

He loaded the groceries into the back of the SUV. “I don’t want to make another kidnapping seem impossible. Our best shot is still for them to go after you or me.”

“You’re sure you can find me, right?”

He looked down at my shoes. “Your shoes are equipped with locators. Both of them.”

“When did that happen?”

“Right after you bought them. About a month ago.”

A couple years ago I would have been incensed and outraged. This afternoon I was resigned. I had no control over Ranger.

“What if I don’t get to keep a shoe?” I asked him.

“Glad you asked. I have a miniaturized transponder I’d like to implant.”

“Implant? Where?”

“You get to choose. I get to assist,” Ranger said.

“No, no, no. No way. No how.”

“It’s small. You won’t know you’re carrying it.”

“How do I get it out?”

“There’s a string attached.”

I felt myself go slack-jawed and bug-eyed for a moment. “Seriously?”

“Hal was wearing a tracking device attached to his belt. We began chasing the tracker down minutes after Hal disappeared. We found it two blocks from the deli. It was in a dumpster along with the rest of his clothes. He didn’t have a tracking device in his shoe, so we don’t know if he was allowed to keep it. Having the transponder buried inside you is the best way I know to keep you safe.”

“Morelli almost had a cow when you taped a wire to me. How am I going to explain this?”

“You can begin by telling him it was the best twenty minutes of your short life.”

“Twenty minutes?”

“I could do the job in less time, but it wouldn’t be as memorable,” Ranger said.

“It’s tempting, but I think I’m going to stick with the shoe.”

“You could also swallow the transponder.”