Smokin' Seventeen: A Stephanie Plum Novel (Stephanie Plum Novels)

smoke.”
    “Yeah,” Mooner said. “We like had to smoke in the hall.”
    I felt my eyebrows go up into my hairline. “You were smoking pot in the hall? Are you insane? That is
so rude
. It’s illegal. It’s unhealthy. It’s smelly. It’s irresponsible. It’s unacceptable!” I was halfway through my rant when my attention was diverted to the television screen. Two huge-breasted naked women were trying to have sex with a monkey and a little man dressed up like a hobbit. “What the heck are you watching? That’s not pay-per-view, is it?”
    “It’s like great that you’ve got cable,” Mooner said. “You can’t get quality film like this on network. Okay, so it might cost dinero, but dude, you’ve got hobbit movies. That is so like rare.”
    The hobbit had his business hanging out, and it was hard to tell if he was interested in the women or the monkey. I didn’t especially care about the hobbit’s sexual orientation. What I cared about was that this was going on my bill. Not only was I going to have to pay for this, but it was going to be public record that I bought hobbit porn. Someone in the cable company billing department would know.
    I wrestled the remote away from Vinnie, clicked the television off, and pointed stiff-armed at the door. “Out!”
    “I have to meet with the contractor anyway,” Vinnie said, pushing up from the couch. “They’re taking the crime scene tape down tonight, and we can get back to work on the office tomorrow.” He stopped at the door. “Where’s my bear?”
    I dropped a peanut into Rex’s cage. “I’m working on it.”
    Rex rushed out of his soup can den, stuffed the peanut into his cheek, and rushed back into his soup can.
    Mooner held the door open for Vinnie. “Dude, we could get satellite television for the Moon Bus.”
    “Yeah, and we could rob a bank to pay for it,” Vinnie said.
    “No!” I yelled into the hall, after them. “Don’t say that to Mooner. He’ll do it!”
    “At least somebody’ll be bringing in money,” Vinnie said.
    I closed and locked the door and looked in on Connie in the dining room. “You don’t think they’ll rob a bank, do you?”
    Connie shrugged. “Anything’s possible, but Vinnie would be more inclined to hijack a truck.”
    “Anything new come in?”
    “No. It’s deadly slow.”
    I took a nap and when I woke it was a little after five and Connie was packing up to leave.
    “See you tomorrow,” she said. “Do you have anything fun planned for tonight?”
    “I’m helping Ranger with a new account.”
    “Good thinking to take a nap.”
    “It’s business.”
    Connie hiked her tote bag onto her shoulder. “I’ve seen him look at you. It’s like you’re lunch.”
    I grabbed my sweatshirt and my shoulder bag and walked with Connie to the parking lot. Rangeman was located on a quiet side street in the center of the city. I took Hamilton anddid a quick detour into Morelli’s neighborhood. His SUV was in front of his house, so I pulled in behind it and parked. Morelli inherited the house from his aunt and has since become surprisingly domesticated. There’s still some wild beast left in the man, and he doesn’t own a cookie jar, but he’s better than I am at stocking his refrigerator and from time to time he puts the seat down on the toilet.
    He was pouring Bob’s dinner kibble into a bowl when I walked into the kitchen. Bob did his happy dance when he saw me, whipped around, and dove for his food when Morelli set the bowl on the floor.
    “What’s up?” Morelli asked.
    “I just stopped in to say hello. I’m on my way to Rangeman. Ranger asked me to go over a security system.”
    “After hours?”
    “It’s never after hours at Rangeman.”
    Rangeman ran a very specialized high-end security service, and unlike most large security firms, they monitored their accounts locally from a monitoring station in the Rangeman building. The building ran 24/7 and many of the men rented small efficiency apartments on site.
    “Anything new on the bonds office bodies?” I asked Morelli.
    Bob had scarfed up all his food and was pushing his bowl around on the floor. Morelli grabbed the bowl and put it in the sink. “Nothing earth-shattering. Positive IDs on both of them. Dugan and his lawyer, Bobby Lucarelli. No surprise there. Put into the ground a week to a couple days apart.”
    “Dugan and Lucarelli were involved in something bad.”
    “That’s a given,” Morelli said. “The question is which bad