“I'll go with you.”
“Not necessary.”
“I think it is.”
“I don't need a bodyguard.” What I really meant was I don't want to get you killed, too.
“Then consider this to be a date.”
* * * * *
&nb
sp; WE KNOCKED twice, and Sally just about ripped the door off its hinges when he yanked it open. “Shit,” he said, “it's you.”
“Who'd you think it would be?”
“I guess I was hoping it was Sugar. Look at me. I'm a wreck. I don't know how to do any of this shit. Sugar always gets me dressed. Christ, I haven't got the right hormones for this fucking shit, you know what I mean?”
“Where'd Sugar go?”
“I don't know. We had another fight. I don't even know how it started. Something about me not appreciating his coffee cake.”
I looked around. The house was beyond immaculate. Not a speck of dust anywhere. Nothing out of place. Through the kitchen door I could see the kitchen counters neatly lined with cakes, pies, loaves of bread, glass jars filled with cookies and homemade fudge.
“I didn't even realize he was all that upset,” Sally said. “He got dressed and left when I was in my bubble bath.”
Morelli arched an eyebrow. “Bubble bath?”
“Hey, give me a break here. RuPaul says you're supposed to take a goddamn bubble bath, so that's what I do. Gets you in touch with your fuckin' female side.”
Morelli grinned.
Sally was wearing black bikini Calvins and panty hose, and he was holding a contraption that looked like a corset with breasts. “You gotta help me,” he said. “I can't get into this by myself.”
Morelli held up a hand. “You're on your own.”
Sally looked over at him. “What, are you homophobic?”
“Nope,” Morelli said. “I'm Italian. There's a difference.”
“Okay,” I said. “What do I have to do?”
Sally wiggled into the corset and got it in place. “Tighten this fucker up,” he said. “I need to get a waist.”
I pulled at the strings, but I couldn't get them to go together. “I can't do this. I haven't got enough hand strength.”
We both looked at Morelli.
Morelli gave a disgusted sigh. “Shit,” he said, heaving himself off the couch. He took hold of the strings, put his foot to Sally's butt and yanked.
“Oof,” Sally said. He looked over his shoulder at Morelli. “You've done this before.”
“Dolan used to wear one of these when he went undercover.”
“I don't suppose you did Dolan's makeup?”
“Sorry,” Morelli said, “makeup's way out of my league.”