Top Secret Twenty-One: A Stephanie Plum Novel(66)

“Barely. And Bob chipped a tooth off Momo’s uppers. It’s going to cost me a fortune. So what are you doing right now?”

“Ranger and I are in the lobby. We came down for gelato.”

Silence on Morelli’s end.

“But before this we examined the air handler on the ninth floor,” I said.

“You aren’t sleeping with him, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“Good to know,” Morelli said.

“You trust me.”

“I do. But I don’t trust him.”

“You’re pretty smart for a Trenton cop.”

“I finished the Jumble today.”

“Impressive.”

I said good night, and looked over the list of gelato flavors.

“There are so many,” I said to Ranger. “I can’t choose.”

“Do you want me to choose for you?”

“No!”

He looked at his watch. “You have thirty seconds.”

“I want Tiramisu. No, wait, Strawberry. Maybe Caramel Swirl.”

“Ten seconds.”

“Mango, Coffee, Chocolate Marshmallow …”

“She’ll have Tiramisu,” he said to the girl at the counter. “And a large Banana Sunrise.” He turned to me. “Always go with your first instinct.”

“You’re not having any?”

“My first instinct is to pass.”





TWENTY-EIGHT


I ATE MY gelato and commandeered the bedroom while Ranger and Hal worked at the dining table. I watched television, ordered room service, and shut the door against the stream of men coming and going, reporting in to Ranger.

I called Connie and told her I was on a job with Ranger and might not be in the office tomorrow. I called Lula and asked her to look in on Briggs and the dogs. I got a call from Grandma Mazur asking for a ride home from Bingo.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m in Atlantic City on a job with Ranger.”

“I wouldn’t mind being in Atlantic City,” Grandma said. “I like those all-you-can-eat lunch buffets. And I could spend some time playing the slots. I haven’t done that in an age.”

“I’m not doing any of those things. I’m working.”

“Did you have a swirly frozen yogurt?”

“No, but I had a gelato.”

“Then it wasn’t a total waste,” Grandma said.

From the level of activity in the other room I could guess that there weren’t any more Vlatko sightings. I changed back into my comfy T-shirt advertising beer, crawled into bed, and switched the light off. I woke up at sunrise with Ranger next to me. Naked. No surprise there. Ranger always slept naked.

“I suppose I should be happy I don’t have half of Rangeman and an FBI SWAT team in bed with me,” I said.

“They have a room next door, and Hal’s on the couch. If you’re really happy, I could get rid of Hal.”

“I’m not that happy. I’m wondering why I felt compelled to do this. It’s not like I have something to contribute.”

“The day isn’t over. And none of us have been especially effective with the exception of Tank, who spotted Vlatko twice.” Ranger rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom, and I was sorry the room was dark and I couldn’t see him better. I heard the shower running, and I went back to sleep. I opened my eyes an hour later and dragged myself into the shower. When I came out of the bathroom there was a bag from the bimbo store on the bed. A new shirt and some lingerie. The shirt was red, with rhinestones that spelled out ATLANTIC CITY. The lingerie was black and lacy.

“Thanks,” I said when I came out of the bedroom. “It’s great to have clean clothes. I’m surprised the store is open this early.”

“Only for you,” Ranger said. “Rafael did the shopping.”

Rafael was obviously the slim guy at the computer. He looked up and smiled wide. “I know what the ladies like,” he said.

Hal was at a second computer. He grinned and shook his head.

Ranger was dressed in Rangeman black fatigues. Ready for action. He was leaning against the breakfront with a coffee cup in his hand. He was armed.

“You look like you expect something to happen today,” I said to him.

“Intel has picked up chatter that there’ll be an event involving Semov. Mac has two extra men on him. One with Semov, and one checking Semov’s environment. Semov is scheduled to remain in his suite until eleven forty-five, at which time he and his entourage will make their way to the ballroom, where he’ll give the keynote address. He’s vulnerable when he’s moving. He could get swept along in the crowd, and Vlatko would only need to come in contact with him for a few seconds to deliver the polonium. Personally, I don’t care if Semov lives or dies, but I don’t want to miss the opportunity to take Vlatko down.

“I need to put you on the mezzanine level this morning. It’s going to be a mob scene when everyone leaves the convention center and moves into the ballroom for lunch. Find a place where your back is to the wall and you can watch the people entering the ballroom. Vlatko has probably changed his appearance. Colored his hair, ditched the patch, added a beard, whatever, so you need to look for other things, like suspicious behavior and the tattoo. You have an advantage because you’ve actually seen him.”