“It's more than a family resemblance. Besides, I caught them in the act. They were doing it in my old man's garage. Nine months later, Mario popped out of the oven. That piece of shit Morelli. I should have killed him then.”
I was stunned. I'd seen the resemblance, but this had never crossed my mind.
Morelli had been pretty wild in high school and his early twenties.
He hadn't been my favorite person, and I was willing to believe a lot of bad things about him. This went beyond what I would have expected. Hard to believe he'd have a romantic relationship with Loretta and then walk away from her and the baby.
“I know Morelli had a Casanova reputation in high school, but this is out of character,” I said to Dom. “Family and friends were always important to Morelli.”
“He ruined my kid sister's life. She was smart. She always got the good grades. She could have been something, but she had to quit high school. And now she's in jail. This is his fault. He stole her future, just like he stole mine. You tell the sonovabitch to live in fear. You tell him to watch his back, because I'm gonna chop the head off the snake. And you tell him to stay far away from my nephew,” Rizzi said, eyes narrowed.
“If you'd post the security for the bond on Loretta...” “I'm living in my mother's house. Does that say something? Like maybe I haven't got a cent? No job. No money. No goddamn house.”
“I thought you might have some cash laying around.” “What are you, fucking deaf? I have nothing.” “Okay then. Good talking to you. Let me know if you find some money. Just give me a ringy dingy.”
I turned and practically ran back to the car. He was frig-gin' scary. And I couldn't believe I told him to give me a ringy dingy! Where did that come from?
Lula was eyebrows up when I slid behind the wheel. “Well, how'd that go?” she asked.
“Could have been better.”
“He gonna bond Loretta out?”
“Nope.”
“Sounded to me like he was yelling about something.”
“Yep.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Nope.” What on earth was I supposed to say? He saw Morelli boinking Loretta and getting her pregnant? I could barely think it, much less repeat it.
“Hunh,” Lula said. “I was gonna make you my maid of honor, but I might have to rethink that if you're gonna go all secret on me.”
“I thought you were going to have a quiet wedding.”
“Yeah, but you gotta have a maid of honor. It's a rule.”
Vine Street ran off Broad and was at the edge of the Burg. I cruised along, checking off the numbers of the row houses.
“What's this guy's name?” Lula wanted to know.
“A
ndy Gimp.”
“That's a terrible name. That's a strike against you right from the start.”
“He's eighty-one. I imagine he's used to it.” I pulled to the curb and parked.
“Showtime.”
“I hope not,” Lula said. “I finally got me some good stuff. I don't want to ruin my mental image. I don't want some old wrinkled wanger burned into my cornea when what I want to remember is Tank and the big boys.”
I took a business card and a small can of pepper spray out of my purse and rammed them into my jeans pocket. “Big boys?”
“Yeah, you know... the fuzzy lumpkins, the storm troopers, the beef balls.”