“That was Tank,” Ranger said. “Someone shot Doug Linken.”
“How bad is it?”
“He’s in surgery. Tank said it doesn’t look good. He said the wife looks even worse.”
“She was shot too?”
“No. She’s hysterical.” Ranger grabbed my hand and tugged me to the door. “I need you at the hospital.”
I dug my feet in. “No way. You want me to babysit Monica Linken.”
“Yeah. I’ll pay you time and a half.”
“Not enough.”
He stood hands on hips, looking at me. “I’ll give you a car.”
“Permanently? Will it be mine or will it be temporary?”
“It’ll be yours until you trash it. Considering your record with cars you won’t have it long.”
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
It wasn’t such a great deal. Ranger gave me cars all the time. Sooner or later he got fed up with me driving around in a hunk of junk, and he gave me a car.
At this time of night, when there wasn’t much traffic, it was a short trip to St. Francis Hospital. The hospital was on Hamilton, a couple blocks from the bonds office, on the edge of the Burg. If you needed complicated brain surgery, it was best not to go to St. Francis. If you had a gunshot wound, you were in the right place. Trenton saw a fair amount of shooting. The surgeons at St. Francis had a lot of practice removing bullets.
Ranger swung into the emergency room drop-off, and we were met by a uniformed Rangeman guy. He gave us directions to Monica Linken, and he took the car. Rangeman valet service.
Monica had been placed in a small waiting room reserved for families of surgery patients. Hal, one of Ranger’s security force, was standing guard at the door. He looked like he wanted to hurl himself out a fourth-floor window. Monica was inside, pacing and sucking on an electronic cigarette. She spotted Ranger and rushed at him.
“You’re supposed to be protecting us,” she yelled. “Is this protecting us?”
“We weren’t hired for twenty-four-hour continuous personal protection,” Ranger said. Very calm. No emotion. “The alarm system in your house is working perfectly. Your outdoor perimeter security lights are working perfectly.”
“They were working so perfectly they got my stupid husband shot. He walked outside to sneak a smoke, the lights went on, and bang!, some asshole shot him. He was an easy target.”
“Unfortunate,” Ranger said. “Do you have any idea who did this?”
“There’s a big list. He wasn’t popular. Hell, I didn’t even like him. And I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you mean. I was watching television. One of the CSI shows. There was lots of shooting. I didn’t even find him until there was a commercial. I went to the kitchen and the back door was open. And there he was. Facedown on the patio in lots of blood.” Monica took a massive drag on her fake cigarette. “I’m never going to get the blood out of that stone. I’m going to have to replace it. Do you have any idea how expensive that is? Bastard rip-off stonemasons.”
“I’m going to check on your husband,” Ranger said to Monica. “Stephanie will stay with you.”
“Great,” Monica said. “That makes me feel a lot better. Not at all. How about her crazy grandmother? Is she here too?”
“Just me,” I told Monica.
She sucked on her e-cigarette some more and watched Ranger leave. “Nice ass,” she said. “Is he boinking you?”
“Not recently,” I said. “I sort of have a boyfriend. At least I thought I did.”
“Yeah, I sort of have a husband, but that wouldn’t stop me.”
“Looks like you’re trying to quit smoking?”
“I swear if you really enjoy something you can count on it being no good for you. We switched to these electronic things a couple weeks ago. I’m not happy, but I’m managing to stick with the program. Doug cheated a lot. He cheated a lot with everything. Between you and me, I wouldn’t mind if smoking killed him, if you know what I mean.”
Jeez Louise this was freaking depressing. This was way beyond a Jeep. This was worth a Mercedes or a Porsche.
“I need a drink,” Monica said. “Send one of those Rangeman guys out for some booze. Vodka would be good. I’m ready to drink it straight up from the bottle. Cripes, just get me a straw.”
“Gee, I’d love to do that for you, but they only take orders from Ranger.”
“Then go get Hot Stuff and tell him I need a drink.”
I called Ranger and told him Monica needed vodka.
“She’s going to need more than vodka,” Ranger said. “She’s going to need Slumber Room No. 1. Her husband didn’t make it. The doctor is on his way to talk to her.”