"It's a pleasant apartment," I said to Diesel, "but I can see where Annie would get squirrelly after being cooped up here for a few days. Her phone wasn't in her purse. Why don't you try calling her phone again?"

Diesel dialed Annie on his cell. After a couple beats, we heard the phone ringing. We followed the sound to the bedroom and found her cell phone on the floor by the bed.

"I don't know what to think," I said to Diesel. "I take my phone everywhere with me. I don't know why she'd leave her phone here, except that it's on the floor so maybe it fell out of her pocket."

Diesel wrote a note on a sticky pad in the kitchen and pasted the note to the refrigerator. The message was

Simple. CALL ME IMMEDIATELY.

We locked up behind ourselves and took the elevator to the garage. We drove out to the street, and I had a genius idea. We were only two blocks away from the Pleasure Treasure. It was open until ten on Saturdays, and it probably had a book Jeanine-the-Virgin would find helpful.

"Turn right at the next corner," I told Diesel. "There's a sex-toys store two blocks from here, and we might be able to find a book for Jeanine."

I could see Diesel smile in the dark car. "Just when I think my day's in the toilet you suggest a sex-toys store. Honey, you're a ray of sunshine."

"I hate to rain on your parade, but I know about this place because I made a bust here in the fall."

"Then let's hope this trip is more fun, because I could really use some fun."

Diesel parked in the small lot next to the store. I promised Bob a bedtime snack if he'd be a good dog just a little longer, and Diesel and I went inside. We were the only shoppers. A solitary clerk was behind the counter reading a movie star magazine. She looked up when we entered and sucked in some air when she saw Diesel. She was in her twenties and completely punked-out with black-rimmed eyes and multiple piercings.

"Just browsing," I told her.

"Sure," she said. "Let me know if I can help."

Diesel followed me to the book section, selected a book, and thumbed through.

"Is it good?" I asked.

"Yeah, look at this," Diesel said. "Have you ever tried this?"

I looked at the picture. "That's got to be uncomfortable, if not impossible."

"Hey, pictures don't lie. They're doing it." He draped an arm around me and put his mouth to my ear. "I bet I could do it."

"You're a sick man. Maybe we should ask Raccoon Woman if she has a starter book. If we show this to Jeanine, she's liable to check herself into a nunnery."

Diesel pulled another book off the shelf. "This looks more basic. It starts off with anatomy. And there are photographs… of everything. We should buy two of these."

It was sort of embarrassing to be looking at crotch shots with Diesel. "Sure," I said, "buy two." I glanced at my watch. "Jeez, look at the time. If we hurry we can catch the end of the game."

"What game is that?" Diesel wanted to know.

"I don't know. Any game."

Diesel moved to the video section. "We should get Jeanine a movie. They've got some good ones."

"No. No movies for Jeanine. Jeanine isn't into moaning, and they always do a lot of moaning in the movies."

"Moaning is fun," Diesel said.

I cut my eyes to him. "Do you moan?"

"Not usually."

"Why not?"

"I'd feel stupid."

"Exactly. Just pay for the books with your phony credit card and lets go home."

"Bet I could make you moan," Diesel said, smiling.

"I feel like moaning now," I told him. "And it has nothing to do with sex."

I unwrapped my scarf and hung it on a hook on the wall next to my front door. I draped my heavy winter jacket over the scarf and exchanged my snow boots for shearling slippers.

"I can't believe you bought all that stuff," I said to Diesel.

"It's for Jeanine… unless you want to take something for a test drive."

"No."

"Are you sure? We've got a bag full of fun here. I bet we've got samples of every condom ever invented."

"No!"

Diesel set the bag on the kitchen counter and went to the refrigerator. He backed out with a couple beers. "You know what your problem is? You're too uptight."

"I'm not uptight. I've got a boyfriend, and I don't mess around."

"Admirable, but this living arrangement would work better if you had fewer scruples," Diesel said. "I don't fit on the couch."

"Do you fit on the floor?"

"That's cruel," Diesel said.

I took a beer from him and unwrapped a loaf of bread that had been sitting on the counter. We made a stack of peanut butter sandwiches, gave one to Bob, and took the beer and the rest of the sandwiches into the living room and turned the television on.

"I want to know about Beaner," I said to Diesel. "What are his powers? What kind of chaos does he cause?"

"I'd like to tell you, but then I'd have to kill you…"

"Tell me anyway."

"I'd really rather not."

"Great. Don't tell me. I'll get the story from Mrs. Beaner tomorrow."

"Okay, I'll tell you," Diesel said, "but if you laugh, I swear I'll turn you into a toad."

"You can't actually do that, can you?"

"The better question is, would I? And the answer is, no."

"About Beaner."

Diesel washed a sandwich down with half a beer. "He can give you a rash."

"A rash?"

"Yep."

"That's it?"

"Sweetie pie, this isn't any ordinary rash. It's the mother of all rashes. It makes you itch everywhere. It's nonstop torture for anywhere from three days to three weeks. It's related to poison sumac and looks like hives. Doesn't necessarily leave scars unless you start carving yourself up with a knife because you can't stand the itching."

"Wow."

Diesel sunk low into the couch and closed his eyes. "Who am I trying to kid? It's a rash, for crying out loud. How bad can a rash be?" He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Used to be I tracked dangerous sexual deviants and insane despots. Last time I was here I disabled a guy who shut down the northeast power grid at Christmas. That's the kind of stuff you can get your teeth into." He sunk lower and groaned. "And now I'm hunting Mr. Itchy. Do you have any idea what this does for my image?"

"It's not good?"

"It's a nightmare. There's no way to even put a decent spin on it. Big bad Diesel is out to shut down a poor slob whose only claim to fame is his ability to give people hives."

I burst out laughing. "I like it."

I went to the kitchen and brought a bag of cookies back to Diesel. I opened the bag, and we each took a cookie and Bob got two.

"How does he do it?" I asked Diesel. "Is this some kind of contact skin disease?"

"I don't know how he does it. I've never actually seen it happen firsthand, but I know he can spread the rash without contact."

"Maybe Beaner would give Annie a rash, and be done with it. Maybe he just needs to get it out of his system," I said to Diesel.

Diesel shook his head. "He's nutso. He was stalking her, reinfecting her every chance he got. It was ugly. Annie had hives on top of hives."

"Tell me more about Beaner."

"He has some minor skills. He's good with mechanical things. Used to own a garage. Sold it last year and is sort of retired. Probably was driving his wife nuts hanging around the house. He's pretty much a normal guy with the exception of this rash thing. And until a week ago, it was completely undercover. People would break out in unexplained hives, and that was the end of it. When his wife left, and he decided Annie was responsible, he went public. For the first couple days it was just directed at Annie, but then he lost control and started lashing out at random people whenever he got angry."

"Bummer."

"Yeah, big whoopitydo. Anyway, I was told to shut him down."

"You don't mean shut him down as in… permanently?"