Eleven on Top (Stephanie Plum 11)

“Hey,” I said. “What's up with you? You're always the early riser.”

“Mmmmph,” Morelli said, pillow over his face. “Tired.”

“How could you be tired? It's eight o'clock. It's time to get up! I'm leaving. Don't you want to kiss me goodbye?”

Nothing. No answer. I whipped the sheet off him and left him lying there in all his glorious nakedness. Morelli still didn't move.

I sat on the bed next to him. “Joe?”

“I thought you were going to work.”

“You're looking very sexy . . . except for Mr. Happy, who seems to be sleepy.”

“He's not sleepy, Steph. He's in a coma. You woke him up every two hours and now he's dead.”

“He's dead?”

“Okay, not dead, but he's not going to be up and dancing anytime soon. You might as well go to work. Did you walk Bob?”

“I walked Bob. I fed Bob. I cleaned the living room and the kitchen.”

“Love you,” Morelli said from under the pillow.

“I 1-1-1-like you, too.” Shit.

I went downstairs and stood at the front door, looking out at Big Blue. Probably perfectly safe, but I didn't feel comfortable taking the chance.

Bob came to stand next to me. “I have no way to get to work,” I said to Bob.

“I could call Ranger, but lately it feels like I'm on a date when I'm in a car with Ranger, and it would be tacky to have a date pick me up here. Lula probably isn't up yet.” I went to the kitchen and dialed my parents' number.

“I need a ride to work,” I told my mom. “Can you or Dad take me?”

“Your father can pick you up,” my mom said. “He's driving the cab today, anyway. Are you still off dessert?”

“Yes. How about you?”

“It's amazing. I don't even have the slightest need to tipple now that the wedding is behind us and Valerie's in Disney World.”

Great. My mother doesn't need to tipple, and I'm so strung out with doughnut cravings I put Mr. Happy into a coma.

My dad showed up ten minutes later. “What's wrong with the Buick?” he said.

“Broken.”

“I figured you were worried it was booby-trapped.”

“Yep. That, too.”

Ranger was waiting for me when I arrived. He was in my cubby, slouched in the extra chair, reading through the files on Gorman, Lazar, Barroni, and Runion.

There was a new cell phone on my desk, plus a new key fob, and my Sig. The Sig was in a holster that clipped to a belt.

“They found them,” I said.

“I heard. How'd you get in to work?”

“My dad.”