Four to Score (Stephanie Plum 4)

“The other notes were all in code. Kuntz couldn't figure them out. That's why Sally was brought into it. Sally was always the only one who could read the notes.”

Morelli cruised down his street and parked in front of his house. “I don't suppose you'd consider turning all this over to the police?”

And cut myself out of a recovery fee and leave the possibility open for Joyce to bring Maxine in? Fat chance. “Nope. I wouldn't consider it.”

Lights were blinking off in the downstairs windows in Joe's neighborhood. Early to bed, early to rise meant you had a job that allowed you to make the mortgage payment every month. Blocks away cars hummed on Chambers, but there was no traffic on Joe's street.

“I had something else sort of odd happen tonight,” I said. “I had a run-?in with a woman at the bar.”

Morelli unlocked his front door and flipped the light switch. “And?”

I gave Morelli the details of the conversation. “So what do you think?” I asked.

“I don't know what to think. Obviously it wasn't Terry.”

“No. It wasn't Terry. There was something familiar about her, though. Like maybe I'd seen her someplace before. You know, like a nameless face in the supermarket.”

“You think she firebombed your apartment?”

“I wouldn't write her off the list. You recognize any women going in or out?”

“No. Sorry.”

Our eyes locked, and we both knew the doubt was there.

He tossed his keys on a sideboard, shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it across the lone wooden chair. He moved to the kitchen, where he checked his answering machine, unclipped his gun and his pager and laid them on the counter. “You need to pass that information about the woman on to the arson squad.”

“Should I call tonight?”

Morelli closed the distance between us and took me in his arms. “Monday will be soon enough.”

“Hmm,” I said, in a less than encouraging voice.

“What hmm?”

“I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

He kissed me lightly on the mouth. “This was never a good idea.”

“Exactly. You see, this is exactly what I mean.”

“Oh shit,” Morelli said. “You're not going to make this all complicated, are you?”

My voice rose an octave. “Damn right I'm going to make this complicated. What do you think this is here anyway?”

“This is . . . satisfying mutual needs.”

“A good fuck.”

“Well, yeah.”

I shoved him away. “Don't you ever need more than a good fuck?”

“Not right now! And what about you? You going to tell me you don't need it?”

“I have control over my needs.”

“Yeah, right.”