resemblance was there. She wore the same black dress and shoes and simple silver cross. She was the taller of the two, her short brown hair shot with gray. Her face was more animated than her sister's, but her eyes were eerily empty, sucking light in and giving nothing out. My first impression was that she was medicated. My second guess would be that she was insane. And I was pretty sure I was looking at the crazy-eyed woman who shot Mooner.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Mrs. DeStefano?" Ranger asked.
"Yes."
"We'd like to speak to you about the disappearance of two young men."
The sisters looked at each other and the nape of my neck prickled. The living room was to my left. It was dark and forbidding, formally furnished with polished mahogany tables and heavy brocade upholstery. The drapes were closed, allowing no sunlight to penetrate the interior. A small study opened to my right. The door was partially open, revealing a cluttered desk. Again, curtains were drawn in the study.
"What would you like to know," Sophia said.
"Their names are Walter Dunphy and Douglas Kruper, and we'd like to know if you've seen them."
"I don't know either of them."
"Douglas Kruper is in violation of his bail bond," Ranger said. "We have reason to believe he's here in this house, and as apprehension agents for Vincent Plum we're authorized to conduct a search."
"You'll do no such thing. You will leave immediately or I'll call the police."
"If you'd feel more comfortable having the police present while we search, by all means place the call."
Again, the exchange of silent communication between the sisters, Christina twisting her skirt in her fingers now.
"I don't appreciate this intrusion," Sophia said. "It's disrespectful."
Uh-oh, I thought. There goes my tongue . . . just like Sophia's poor dead neighbor.
Ranger stepped to the side and opened the door to the coat closet. He had his gun in his hand, at his side.
"Stop that," Sophia said. "You have no right to search this house. Do you know who I am? Do you realize I'm the widow of Louis DeStefano?"
Ranger opened another door. Powder room.
"I command you to stop or suffer the consequences," Sophia said.
Ranger opened the door to the study and flipped the light on, watching the women while investigating the house.
I followed his lead and walked through the living room and dining room, turning the lights on. I walked through the kitchen. There was a locked door in a hallway just off the kitchen. Pantry or cellar probably. I was reluctant to investigate. I didn't have a gun. And even if I had a gun, I wouldn't be much good at using it.
Sophia suddenly came after me in the kitchen. "Out of there!" she shouted, grabbing me by the wrist, yanking me forward. "You will get out of my kitchen."
I jerked away from her. And in a motion I can only describe as reptilian, Sophia reached into a kitchen drawer and came out with a gun. She turned and aimed and shot Ranger. And then she turned on me.
Without thinking, acting totally from blind fear, I lunged at her and took her down to the floor. The gun skidded away and I scuttled after it. Ranger got to it before I did. He calmly picked it up and put it in his pocket.
I was on my feet, not sure what to do. The sleeve of Ranger's cashmere jacket was soaked with blood. "Should I call for help?" I asked Ranger.
He shrugged out of the jacket and looked at his arm. "It's not bad," he said. "Get me a towel for now." He reached behind him and brought out cuffs. "Cuff them together."
"Don't touch me," Sophia said. "You touch me and I'll kill you. I'll scratch your eyes out."
I closed a bracelet on Christina's wrist and tugged her toward Sophia. "Hold your hand out," I said to Sophia.
"Never," she said. And she spit at me.
Ranger moved closer. "Hold your hand out or I'll shoot your sister."
"Louie, do you hear me, Louie?" Sophia shouted, looking up, presumably beyond the ceiling. "Do you see what's happening? Do you see the disgrace? Jesus, God," she wailed. "Jesus, God."
"Where are they?" Ranger asked. "Where are the two men?"
"They're mine," Sophia said. "I won't give them up. Not until I get what I want. That moron DeChooch, hiring his fence to drive the heart back to Richmond. Too lazy, too ashamed to bring the heart back himself. And do you know what that little pisser brought me?