Everyone parks their car in their garage. I don't even see any cars in driveways. We're sitting here looking like we're planning a robbery.“ She was right. A car parked at the side of the road was painfully obvious. I had my hand on the door handle. ”I'm going to sneak around in the bushes and look in some windows. You can circle the block and pick me up when I'm done.“ ”Better you than me,“ Lula said. ”This is one of them snooty neighborhoods, and they probably got all kinds of dogs and alarms and shit like that.“ ”I've heard rumors about Bugger's dog, and as long as I don't bend over, I think I'll be okay.“ I was out of the car and about to cross the street when the gates to Bugger's driveway swung open. A silver Lexus rolled from behind the hedge, through the open gate, and turned left. Only one person in the car. Dom. We locked eyes, and Dom floored it. I ran around and jumped into the Firebird. ”Catch him!“ He had a good head start, but in his panic he turned down a cul-de-sac. Lula angled her car across the road and blocked his exit. He swerved coming at us, jumped the curb, and took out about five thousand dollars' worth of hedge. The house behind it looked like pictures I've seen of Versailles. The Lexus stalled in the hedge, and Dom wrenched the door open and took off for the faux chateau. I ran flat-out after him and tackled him halfway to the house. He was heavier and stronger than I was, but I was willing to fight dirty. I brought my knee up and rearranged his private parts so that they were halfway into his intestines. Dom grabbed himself and went into a fetal position. He was sweating and gasping for air, and for a moment I was afraid he might throw up. I removed a gun from him and stood. ”You're out on parole,“ I told him. ”You're not allowed to carry a gun.“ He sort of nodded. Still trying to get it together. ”Be a shame to have to shoot you with your own gun,“ I said. ”So I want you to move nice and slow and not get me excited.“ Another nod. ”You need to listen carefully, because this is serious,“ I said. ”Your fourth partner has Loretta.“ ”I know. I'm trying to help her,“ Dom said, ”but I can't get to the money. If I let Morelli in on it, he'll turn the money back to the bank, and I'm afraid Loretta will be killed, just like Allen.“ ”And Stanley Zero.“ Dom locked eyes with me. ”What do you mean?“ ”Someone put a bullet in Zero. I found him earlier today.“ ”Do you know who did it?“ I shook my head. ”No. But I'm thinking your fourth partner.“ ”Bastard,“ Dom said. ”I never felt good about him.“ ”I need a name.“ Dom was on his feet, still holding himself and a little stooped over, but starting to get color back in his face. ”I don't have a name,“ he said. ”He was the inside guy. I never even saw him.
Stan brought him in. Said he had a sensitive job and no one could know who he was. I always figured he worked for the bank, because he was able to get information. He had access to files and schedules. Or maybe he was one of those computer hackers.“ ”How did you get in touch with him?“ ”Stan got in touch with him. They were buddies. Stan was friends with everyone.“ I wanted to get Dom someplace more secure. I wanted him in cuffs and shackles so he couldn't get away. I wanted him talking to Morelli. There was a lot at stake, and I was well aware that I wasn't entirely competent. Problem was, he was talking, and I didn't want to give him pause to reconsider and shut up. So I held my breath and pushed on. ”Obviously, something is hidden in Morelli's basement. What is it?“ I asked him. He pulled his pants waistband out and looked down at himself. I guess making sure they were actually still there. ”It's two keys on a keychain. I knew I was spotted at the bank, and I'd be locked away for a while. I saw the camera pan to me before we took it out. I wasn't sure I trusted the guys, so I changed the plan. I was supposed to drive the van to a warehouse where we were going to keep it on ice until the money was safe to use. Instead, I drove it to a garage I knew about. Then I buried the keys to the garage and the truck in Rose's basement. Rose was old, and she'd always promised the house to me.
She always told me I was in her will.“ ”But she was disappointed that you robbed a bank, and she changed her will.“ ”That would be Morelli's version. My version goes that he sweet-talked her out of the house and screwed me like he screwed my sister.“ He'd stopped holding himself, but he was still standing bent and bowlegged. ”I'm gonna have cramps for days,“ he said. ”You should register that knee as a lethal weapon.“ ”It was an accident.“ ”Yeah, right. And if I stop talking, it's gonna be an accident that you shoot me.“ ”Let's skip to where you get out of prison.“ ”That was a real kick in the head. I break into the house and what do I find?
Asshole Morelli has poured concrete in the basement. I can't get the friggin' keys. So I tell everybody, but they don't believe me. They think I'm juicing them out of the money. And the truth is, I was thinking about it. I did the time. I figured I deserved extra. I never ratted on anyone.“ ”And?“ ”It just got more and more fucked up. Everybody was hungry for the money and nobody trusted anybody else. And Gratelli thought he was James Bond. He was carrying a gun and planting bugs he bought at the Spy Store and going around at night wearing infrared goggles. This is the guy who pissed his pants as soon as we got into the bank. As a joke, I gave him a map with directions and told him he couldn't show anyone. I said it was top secret and it would take him to the money, but he had to guard it and wait for things to settle down. I told him we'd cut the other guys out and get more for ourselves. It was directions to Starbucks, but Gratelli took it serious. Poor dumb, dead shmuck.“ Oh great. I got dyed over directions to Starbucks. ”Anyway, I'm up shit creek because my nephew is now living in Morelli's house, so I don't want to give away that the keys are in Morelli's basement. I'm afraid these sons of bitches will go in there like World War III. So I'm telling them not to get their shorts in a bunch and they get all pissed off and snatch Loretta.“ ”How did Gratelli get shot?“ ”They had Loretta. So I said I would take them to the keys, but they had to go with me, and we had to wait for a time when I knew the house was empty. So the three of us wait until everybody goes out of the house, and then we all go in and troop into the basement, and I show them the nice, new, perfect concrete floor. It's in that corner, I say. Under six inches of concrete that asshole Morelli laid down. And this is sort of the funny part. I mean, it's not really funny, but... Anyway, Gratelli is sort of freaking because he has a map in his car that I swear leads to the money, and he knows it doesn't take him here. He knows it takes him to Starbucks. And he actually thinks the keys are hidden somewhere at Starbucks. Stan doesn't know what to make of any of it, but he has plans for the money, and he's tired of the whole thing. And I haven't mentioned this before, but Stan has done the occasional job.“ ”Job?“ ”Wet work.“ ”Yikes.“ ”Yeah. So to make an impression, and because Stan has already figured out Gratelli isn't an asset, he pulls his gun and pops Gratelli in the forehead.
We both look at the stairs and decide it's too much of a pain in the ass to get Gratelli out of the basement, so we leave. And on the way out, Stan tells me his friend is getting real restless, and if I'm messing with them and this isn't for real, I'm going to look like Gratelli real soon.“ ”Turned out he was the one who looked like Gratelli.“ ”I don't know what to make of that. I thought they were tight. I guess when it comes to nine million, things change.“ ”So where are we now?“ ”The keys are in the corner by the water heater. You had the cellar dug up.
I'm surprised you didn't find them.“ ”Morelli had the cement broken up, but he didn't dig through all the dirt.“ ”You should be looking happy because you know where the keys are,“ Dom said. ”Why don't you look happy?“ ”Two men broke into Morelli's house last night while Morelli and I were out.
Zook heard them come in the back door and called the police, but it looks like they were in the cellar before leaving.“ ”That's not good news,“ Dom said. ”And now Stan's dead and the fourth partner is left. But at least he don't know how to find the garage where I stashed the van. He still needs me. So he still needs Loretta to be alive. Otherwise, I'd never deal with the prick.“ This was making me feel a little less panicky. We could still bargain for Loretta. We could arrange a
hostage swap. ”This is great,“ I said to Dom. ”We can give your partner the money and get Loretta back.“ ”I don't want Morelli involved. Morelli will never do it. He'll do his cop thing and turn the money in to the bank. He walked away from my sister before, and he'd do it again.“ Dom was agitated. He was pacing around. Obviously, his equipment had dropped back into place, and he wasn't feeling so vulnerable. Not the time to argue paternity, I told myself. Let it slide for now. Just find out where he's got the money. ”Okay, we won't involve Morelli,“ I said. ”We'll do it without him. Where's the money?“ ”I hate Morelli,“ Dom said. ”I've always hated him. Rotten S.O.B. He's not even bald.“ ”Excuse me?“ ”Bald! Go ahead, tell me you didn't notice I'm going bald.“ Oh boy. He'd flipped out. Just like that. One minute normal, and the next minute rabid bald guy. ”Maybe you're a little bald on the top,“ I said, ”but it's not unattractive.“ ”Is Morelli bald?“ ”No.“ ”Damn right he's not bald,“ Dom said. ”He's the golden boy. Has he got hair on his back? On his ass? Does he have hair on his knuckles? On his toes? No. He's perfect. He's got hair on his fucking head.“ I thought about Morelli. ”Maybe a little on his ass,“ I said. Hell, he was Italian. It was practically required for him to have hair on his ass. We both paused for a moment, our attention caught by high-pitched whining. ”What's that?“ Dom asked. The whining changed to yelps, and the realization hit us. ”Dogs,“ Dom said. The pack rounded the back corner of the house and raced toward us. Five Dobermans with ”killer“ written all over them. ”Run!“ I yelled at Dom. We had a large expanse of rolling lawn between us and the dogs, and an equally large expanse between us and the road. We took off, and I could hear Dom pounding after me, his breath wheezing through his teeth. ”Shoot 'em!“ he was shouting at me. ”Shoot the fuckers.“ I was running with Dom's gun in my hand, and while a small corner of my panicked, terrified brain wanted to stop the beasts in their tracks, the rest of my brain was seeing them as Snoopy. No way could I shoot them. Probably if they caught us, they wouldn't hurt us, I told myself. But just in case, I was running like hell. We reached Dom's car with the dogs at our heels. I scrambled onto the car and perched on the roof, and Dom kept running. He crossed the street and disappeared behind another huge mansion-type house. The dogs stayed with me, surrounding the car, barking and snarling. Lula had been waiting in the Firebird all this time. She rolled out of the car, pointed her Glock skyward, and fired off a shot. The dogs gave one last yip, turned tail, and ran back to the house. I climbed down from the Lexus, walked shaky-legged to the Firebird, and collapsed into the passenger seat. ”That was almost it,“ I told Lula. ”I thought for sure I was going to be dog food.“ ”Where'd you get the gun?“ ”I took it from Dom.“ I dropped the gun into my purse and sat back with my hand over my heart. ”I've gotta join a gym,“ I said. ”I almost died back there.“ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN It was almost eleven when Morelli dragged himself through the front door. I'd sent Mooner home. Gary was tucked away in his camper in the garage. Zook was in bed. Bob and I were on the couch pretending we were watching television when really we were just waiting for Morelli. Morelli gave both of us a kiss on the top of the head and kept going into the kitchen. We followed after him and watched him knock back a beer. He dropped his jacket on the floor and threw his gun on the counter and belched. ”Beer,“ he said by way of explanation. ”Tough day?“ ”Unh.“ He took a tub of deli potato salad out of the refrigerator and forked some into his mouth. ”Did you get anything resolved?“ I asked. ”It's a process.“ His gaze went to the small table. ”What's with the gun in the plastic bag?“ ”Test it out to see if it matches either of the murder weapons.“ ”Where'd you get it?“ I gave him the short version. Morelli tossed the empty potato salad container into the trash. ”Have you looked in the basement?“ ”Yes. Big hole in the corner where the keys were supposedly buried. No keys.“ ”Good riddance. Lets go to bed.“ Morelli was still in the kitchen when I got back from driving Zook to school. Morelli was showered and shaved and looked relatively civilized in a blue button-down shirt and jeans. He had his gun clipped to his belt, the phone cradled against his neck and shoulder, and he was taking notes in a small pad he always carried. I poured myself a second cup of coffee and waited for Morelli to get off the phone. ”You're getting a late start,“ I said when he disconnected. ”I want to talk to you, and I didn't want to do it until Zook was out of the house. There was a padded envelope stuck under my windshield wiper when I went out this morning. I put the contents in the freezer.“ My heart stuttered in my chest. ”I've been talking to Larry Skid and Spanner and the Fed who headed the bank job, and they're going to set up a sting. I doubt Dom will go back to Bugger's house. And it doesn't seem likely he'll get in touch with you, so we're going without him.
Hang the scarf in the window and tell the fourth partner you talked to Dom and you know everything. Tell him you want to swap what you know for Loretta. Let the partner suggest how to make the exchange. He'll be less suspicious of a trap if he sets it up. The Feds have a garage in place.“ Morelli handed me a page from his notebook. ”This is the address. Make sure he passes you Loretta before you give him this information.“ ”Was it another toe?“ ”Yeah.“ He poured coffee into a travel mug, and took two bubble-wrapped packages from the freezer and dropped them into a plastic bag. ”I'm taking these in with me, along with the gun. Don't call me on your cell phone if you want to talk about this. Call me on something that's secure.“ He kissed me and left. I gave him twenty minutes and hung a red scarf in the window. It was cashmere and had been a Christmas present from Morelli's mom two years ago. He'd never worn it. He wasn't a red scarf kind of guy. I got a call on my cell phone ten minutes after I hung the scarf. ”Who hung the scarf?“ he said. I recognized the voice. Slight rasp. Flat. ”I did,“ I told him. ”And?“ ”I know everything. I had a conversation with Dom yesterday. He wants to make a deal for Loretta.“ ”Why isn't he talking to me?“ ”Afraid, I guess.“ ”But you're not afraid?“ ”I'm not involved like Dom.“ ”What about Morelli?“ ”He's not part of it.“ I sat out a full sixty seconds of silence. I suppose he was debating whether to go forward. Or maybe he was waiting to see if I'd get nervous and start blabbering. ”Here's the deal,“ he finally said. ”You tell me where the van is located, and I give you Loretta.“ ”I need Loretta first.“ ”Not gonna happen, sweetie.“ I hated this guy. I hated his voice. I hated his arrogance and his ability to kill and maim in cold blood. And I hated that he called me sweetie. ”You're going to have to come up with a plan we can both live with,“ I told him. ”I'm a reasonable guy,“ he said. ”I'll call you back in twenty minutes.“ By the time he called, my eye was twitching and my stomach was clenched in a knot. The phone rang and I jumped in my seat. I took a moment to breathe and steady my voice, and I answered the phone. ”The keys are taped to the underside of a bench in front of the train station,“ he said. ”Look for the bus stop with the Nike ad. When you get the keys, you can use them to get the van. After you've secured the van, you can call me. The phone number is in the envelope with the keys. You need to remember two things. If anything goes wrong, I'll kill Loretta. Then I'll kill her son. And then I'll kill you. And don't doubt for a moment that I won't.“ ”What's the second thing?“ ”Be careful not to set off the detonation device.“ Oh boy. ”Dom didn't tell me about the detonation device.“ There was a moment of silence. ”Allen booby-trapped the van. Allen loved doing that sort of thing. In this case, it wasn't a bad idea, since none of us could really be trusted. The key is necessary to disarm the mechanism. So, while Dom has always known where the van was located, he had no access to the money without the key. Allen probably could have bypassed his system, but he didn't know the location of the van. Once Zero was convinced he knew where the key was located, he eliminated Allen. And then, of course, I eliminated Zero after we retrieved the keys. Nine million is much better than four and a half. And I'm telling you this so you will be careful when inserting the ignition key, and also so you understand that I'm ruthless.“ I didn't respond. ”Well?
“ he said. ”I'll get the van.“ ”No police. If you bring the police in on this, I'll know. And it won't be good for Loretta.“ ”I have to make sure she's okay.“ ”She's as okay as anyone could be who just had two toes removed, and that's as close as you're going to get to her.“ My newly washed car was at the curb. No more Zook decorations. Just rust and faded paint and a bunch of dings and dents. I drove to the office and got there just as Connie was unlocking the door. No sign of Lula. I called Morelli on the office phone, and he called me back from a landline. ”He's left the keys on a bench at the train station. I'm to pick them up and get the van. When I have the van, I'm supposed to call him. His number will be with the keys.“ ”We can do this,“ Morelli said. ”We have video of the van. We can duplicate it and have it in the garage. Get the keys and I'll get back to you when we're ready.“ The door to the bonds office banged open and shut and Lula stormed in. ”I swear,“ she said. ”I have a mind not to get married. That man came to my house stinking drunk last night. I opened the door, and he called me Charlotte. Who the hell is Charlotte? He said it was his mother, but I don't believe it for a minute. And then when I said I wanted to meet his mother, he said she was dead. And I don't think that's true. I think he don't want me to meet his mama.“ ”We've got a stack of filing,“ Connie said. ”Are you up to filing?“ ”I'm up to murder. I'm in a vicious mood. I was ready for a good time, if you know what I mean. And he fell asleep in the bathroom. I thought he was getting ready. You know how sometimes men need to get ready?“ I didn't have that problem. The men in my life were always ready. In fact, I could do with a little less ready. Connie looked confused by it, too. ”Ready for what?“ Connie asked. ”Whatever,“ Lula said. ”How the hell do I know what they do in there? Anyway, he's not coming out and he's not coming out, and finally I go in and he's asleep on the floor. So I said to him, Hey! And he never even twitched. And then I pushed him around. And that didn't do nothing. So I watched some television and went to bed, and when I got up he was gone. Good thing, too, because I wasn't happy. I'm not marrying no alcoholic.“ I couldn't imagine Tank or Ranger drunk. They were always in control. They ate vegetables. They exercised. They didn't eat butter, and they ate whole wheat bread. What on earth could drive Tank to drink? The answer was clear. The answer was... Lula. Big, tough Tank was no match for Lula. ”I have an errand to run,“ I said. ”I'll be back.“ The train station wasn't far away, and the bench was easy to find. There was only one with a Nike ad. I illegally parked, ran over, and sat on the bench. I had my choice of feeling around or bending over and looking. Neither was appealing, considering what might be stuck there besides the keys. I went with the looking and had good luck. The keys and the phone number were in an envelope held to the seat with electricians tape. I shoved the envelope into my pocket and motored back to the office. Connie was on the phone and Lula was filing when I walked in. I sunk into the couch and paged through one of Lula's bride magazines. Connie got off the phone and looked over at me. ”Vinnie's coming home on Wednesday, and he's not going to be happy about the number of skips out there,“ Connie said. ”We have a stack of low-money losers that adds up to a lot of money.“ I knew she was right. I had a list in my purse. Loretta had been taking precedent over the job. ”Susan Stitch would be a good place to start,“ Connie said. ”No way,“ Lula said from behind a file cabinet. ”That's the monkey lady. I'm not going back there. I hate monkeys. And I especially hate that monkey. That monkey is the spawn of the devil.“ ”It was Brenda's fault for letting him out of the bathroom,“ I said. ”I'm sure he'll be fine as long as we don't drag Brenda and a film crew along with us.“ Truth is, I was nervous about the ransom sting, and I wouldn't have minded a diversion while I waited for Morelli's phone call. I stood and hung my bag on my shoulder. ”I'm off to North Trenton,“ I said to Connie. I cut my eyes to Lula. ”Are you coming with me?“ ”I guess I am,“ Lula said. ”Someone's gotta go along and protect your skinny ass.“ ”You didn't do a lot of protecting yesterday. You sat in the car when I chased down Dom.“ ”Dam right. I knew there was gonna be dogs. These people got dogs and all kinds of security shit. Did you think of that? No. You chased Dom into that yard, and next thing, there was a pack of killer dogs running after you.“ We got out on the sidewalk, and Lula looked at my car. ”No more Zook,“ she said. ”I thought the Zook was an improvement.“ ”It was too recognizable with Zook on it.“ ”Yeah, Connie and me always knew when you were trying to sneak past the office.“ I drove to North Trenton and parked in Susan's lot. We took the stairs, and I knocked on her apartment door. No one answered, but the door eased open. ”Uh-oh,“ Lula said. ”There's always dead bodies inside when this happens.“ She stuck her head in and sniffed. ”I smell monkey,“ she said. I rapped on the open door. ”Anyone home?“ I yelled. No one answered, but I could hear a television squawking somewhere. I stepped into the apartment and scanned for the monkey. No monkey in sight. Lula was pressed tight behind me. ”I better not get attacked by no monkey,“ she whispered. ”I'm gonna be mad at you if I get a monkey on my head. There was lots of other losers we could have gone after.“ The living room and kitchen area was unoccupied. The television was blaring from the bedroom. ”Hello,“ I yelled again. ”Anyone home?“ ”Who could hear over that television?“ Lula said. ”Sounds like one of them music video stations.“ We cautiously crept to the bedroom and peeked through the open door. Susan was naked on top of some guy with a cast on his leg, and she was going to town on him, grinding and pounding away in time with the music. ”Oops,“ I said. ”Sorry.“ Susan paused for a moment and covered her breasts with her hands. ”We made up,“ she said. I was telling myself not to look, but my eyes weren't cooperating. ”Great, but you still have to get your bond straightened out.“ ”It was for Carl,“ she said. ”He was unhappy.“ ”Un-hunh.“ I could hear Lula making choking sounds behind me. ”We'll wait in the hall until you're done,“ I said to Susan. ”Okay,“ she said. ”It never takes long.“ ”Cripes,“ the guy said. ”What's that supposed to mean?“ Lula and I almost knocked each other over trying to get out of the bedroom. ”I gotta get outta here before I bust from trying not to laugh out loud,“ she said. ”I didn't want to be rude, but I was a 'ho for a bunch of years, and I never seen anyone bouncing around on a wanger like that. That woman still got some anger left in her. He's lucky if she don't bend something and do permanent damage.“ Lula was looking at me and not paying attention to what she was doing. She opened the powder room door instead of the front door and Carl lunged out at her and grabbed her face. ”Eeeeee,“ she squealed. ”I got a monkey on my face. Help! Do something.“ Carl backflipped off her and ran around the room. ”Get me out of here,“ Lula said. ”Where's the door? Someone open the door!“ She found the door, yanked it open, and Carl scampered out. He ran down the hall, jumped up, and punched the elevator button. The elevator doors opened, Carl leaped inside, and the doors closed. ”I didn't see that,“ Lula said. ”I had nothing to do with it, and I never was here.“ I didn't want to go back into the bedroom, so I yelled as loud as I could. ”Susan! Your monkey just got into the elevator.“ ”Oh yes“ Susan shouted. ”Yes, yes, yes. Yippie-ki-yay, cowboy!“ ”I'm gonna pretend she heard,“ Lula said. ”I did my best to tell her.“ Lula nodded in agreement. ”Nobody could ask for anything more from you.“ The racket was still going on in the bedroom. ”Probably we shouldn't wait for Susan to get done,“ I said. ”Yeah. I just remembered I got something to do.“ We hurried down the stairs and slunk through the lobby to the lot. We didn't see Carl. ”I hope Carl's okay,“ I said to Lula. ”Carl's probably on his way to stick up a 7-Eleven.“ CHAPTER NINETEEN I dropped Lula at the office and went to my apartment to check on Rex. I leaned over his cage and told him about my day so far. He was in his soup can and probably wasn't listening, but I talked to him anyway. I gave him an olive and a corn chip, and I called Susan Stitch. ”Did you find Carl?“ I asked her. ”Yep. He escapes like that all the time. He's such a clever little dickens. He was on the first floor visiting with Mrs. Rooney. H
e likes to play with her beagle.“ ”Would this be a good time to get rebonded?“ ”It's perfect, but you don't have to worry about it. Ron and I are going to the courthouse together. We're meeting his lawyer there, and hopefully this can all be worked out.“ ”That's great,“ I said, assuming Ron was the guy with the leg cast and stiffy. ”Good luck.“ I hung up, and I took a moment to enjoy being in my own space. Morelli's house had ice cream sandwiches, but my apartment was home. My apartment was quiet and sane and was free from liberelves and bank robbers. My cell rang, and I saw on the screen that it was Morelli. I was tempted not to answer, but I knew he'd keep calling until I connected. ”Hola,“ I said to him. ”Do you have a landline?“ ”Yes. I'll get back to you on my kitchen phone.“ ”Here's the deal,“ he said when we reconnected. ”The address I gave you earlier is actually a storage facility down by the river. The lockers are big. Garage-size. People keep furniture and boats and ATVs in them. It's not a stretch to drive a van into one. It's locker number twenty-four, and it's rigged with a lock that will open with any key. Inside is an exact replica of the van used in the robbery. The key is in the ignition. We've got nine million in dummy money in the back of the van. All you have to do is go along with the deal.“ ”How am I going to communicate?“ ”I'll put a wire on you. Give me twenty minutes.“ I put the phone down and went back to talking to Rex. ”I hate this,“ I said to him. ”I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not the hero type. I wanted to be Wonder Woman when I was a kid. Now that I'm an adult, I think kicking ass leaves a lot to be desired. For one thing, I'm not that good at it. And wearing a wire makes my stomach feel squishy. I'm always afraid I'll get found out, and I'll end up with a bullet in the head like Allen Gratelli.“ It was a sobering thought when said out loud. ”Not that it would happen,“ I said to Rex. I refilled Rex's water bottle and gave him an extra bowl of hamster food, just in case. And then Rex and I waited in silence in the kitchen for Morelli to arrive. Ten minutes later, Morelli knocked and opened the door. He had a key. ”I'm not supposed to be doing this,“ he said. ”I'm still working the gang thing, but I didn't want anyone else feeling you up when they taped the wire.“ ”If something happened to me, you'd take care of Rex, wouldn't you?“ ”Nothings going to happen to you.“ ”Yes, but if it did.“ ”If anything happened to you, I'd be so destroyed they'd have to strap me to a bed and feed me through a tube. After five or six years, I might be capable of taking care of Rex. In the interim, you should assign a guardian.“ Morelli had his hands under my shirt and supposedly was installing the wire, but his thumb kept tracing a line across the tip of my breast. I was starting to lose focus. ”If you're trying to get my mind off the ransom, it's working,“ I told him. ”Yeah, sometimes I love my job,“ he said, giving me a whole-hand fondle. He took a small receiver out of his pocket, put the attached earbud into his ear, and stepped back. ”Push the button and switch it on.“ I felt along the battery pack and pushed the button. ”Testing,“ I said. ”Mary had a little lamb. Yada, yada, yada.“ ”Perfect,“ Morelli said. ”You're going to be transmitting to the Fed.
Unfortunately, he won't be able to talk to you, so you'll have to run with it.
If you feel like you're in trouble, do whatever you have to do. It's okay if you abort.“ ”I'm a little weirded out,“ I said. Morelli looked down at me. Serious. ”You don't have to do this.“ ”Yes, I do.“ He kissed me on the forehead. ”You'll be fine.“ I went to the window and watched him cross the lot to his car. He opened the driver's side door, stood for a moment, and then slammed the door shut without getting in. My window was closed, so I couldn't hear what Morelli was saying, but clearly he was talking to himself. He was waving his arms and pacing and his face was getting red. He punched the car and stood hands on hips, staring down at his shoes. I've seen him do this a million times. Getting a grip. I called him on my cell. ”I'll be fine,“ I told him. ”This really sucks,“ he said. And he got in his car and drove away. The storage facility chosen by the Feds was down by the river, off Lamberton Road. I took Hamilton and passed by the bonds office and the hospital. I turned at the junction of South Broad and felt my way around until I hit Lamberton. I was watching my mirror for a tail, but I didn't pick one up. I turned onto a private road leading to a small industrial park, and kept driving until I saw the sign for the storage facility. The facility itself was about a half acre in size and protected by a chain-link fence. The gate to the fence was open. There was a one-room cinder-block building that served as office. So far as I could see, the office was vacant. Beyond the office were rows of storage lockers, each the size of a single-car garage. I drove down the second row of lockers and stopped at number 24. I got out of my car and looked around. Very quiet. No sign of the fourth partner. No indication of police presence. I had the wire switched on, but I wasn't saying anything. I walked to the garage door, took a deep breath, and shoved the key in. The door rolled up to reveal a dark maroon Econoline van with Pennsylvania plates. I looked in the driver's side window. The key was in the ignition, as promised. I wrenched the door open and climbed in. I was feeling calmer now that everything was in motion. Piece of cake, I said to myself. Cool as a cucumber. Wonder Woman on board. I cranked the engine over, backed the van out, put my car in the garage, and rolled the garage door down. I carefully drove the van out of the storage facility, parked on the side of the road, and dialed the number the fourth partner gave me. ”Long time no hear,“ he said. ”I had things to do. I had to look in on a skip.“ ”Is that all you had to do?“ ”Pretty much.“ ”What about waiting for the police to set the trap?“ ”Nope. Didn't do that.“ ”I told you I would know. I know everything.“ ”Not everything,“ I said. ”I know you've got phony money in the back of that phony Econoline. I know you got the van out of a phony garage off Lamberton. I know you're wired. Now, here's the deal. Hang the scarf in the window when you're ready to make a trade without police involvement. If I don't see the scarf by noon tomorrow, I'm cutting Loretta's hand off.“ ”But I don't...“ He was gone. ”He knew,“ I said into the wire. ”He knew the whole deal. You need to clean house. He's on the inside.“ I retraced MY route back to the garage and traded the van for my car. Still no one walking around, but I knew police were planted somewhere. I drove out of the industrial park and went straight to Morelli's house. School was still in session. Just me and Bob at home. I took the red scarf from the upstairs window and set it on Morelli's desk. All the way home, I'd been boiling inside, seething mad that this had gotten screwed up. I wanted it over and done. I wanted Loretta to be safe. I was angry at Dom for running away from me, and I was angry at the police that they couldn't manage a secure operation. I sat in Morelli's chair and forced myself to think. Who is this fourth partner? A cop? A computer whiz? A professional crook? I looked at the red scarf. He wanted it hung from the second-floor window. Why the second floor? Wouldn't it be easier to see it from the first floor if you were walking or driving past the house? I swiveled around and stared out the window. The houses on the opposite side of the street were all two-story, like Morelli's. Easy to see into their bedroom windows from here. The convenient assumption would be that the partner lived in one of these houses, but Morelli had already gone door-to-door in his neighborhood and hadn't found anything odd. I called Morelli, but got his voice mail. I called my mother, and got my grandmother. She said my mother couldn't come to the phone because she'd taken a pill and fallen asleep after seeing me wrestling with the chicken on News at Noon. I called the office and was transferred to Connie's cell. She was at the courthouse trying to help resolve the Susan Stitch mess. My modus operandi when investigating is, if you have no ideas... eat something. It doesn't help to get ideas, but it passes the time. So I trekked downstairs and nuked a tray of mac and cheese. This got me to feeling very mellow, because it's impossible to stay upset while eating mac and cheese. Here's the positive side, I told myself. You continue to make little inroads on the fourth partner's identity. If you can't find Dom and get your hands on the money, maybe you can find the fourth partner. He's kind of full of himself, and that confidence could be his undoing. I called Ranger. ”I want to get into Stanley Zero's apartment again,“ I told him. ”That's a sealed crime scene,“ Ranger said. ”And?“ ”It would be safer if we went in at night.“ ”I can wait.“ ”I'll meet you in his apartment parking lot at eleven.“ I reached the school just as it was letting out. Zook ambled over to the car with his usual cluster of misfits and pulled the passenger-side door open. He slouched into the seat, dropped his backpack on the floor between his feet, and looked over at me. ”The kids at school are talking.“ I gave the Sentra some gas and moved into the stream of traffic. ”What are they saying?“ ”They're saying my mom cut out on me. Like maybe she found the nine million and took off with it.“ ”They're wrong.“ ”I sort of wouldn't blame her. That's a lot of money.“ ”Your mom is okay. She's just not... accessible right now.“ ”What's that mean?“ ”I can't tell you, but we're trying to work it all out.“ He pushed his backpack around with a foot that seemed way too big for his slim frame. He was like a puppy that hadn't grown up to his feet yet. ”I'm not some dumb little kid,“ he said. ”I deserve to know what's going on with my mom.“ I turned onto Hamilton and slid a sideways glance at him. He wasn't dumb, and he wasn't a little kid. He was a big kid. And he had a point. He needed to know what was going on with his mom. ”You're right,“ I said. ”You deserve to know. But you can't tell anyone. No one at school. Not Mooner. Not Gary. No one.“ He nodded his head. ”Three men robbed the bank with your Uncle Dom. Two are dead, and your uncle is in hiding. The fourth partner has your mom and is holding her for ransom.
He wants the nine million dollars. Problem is, we don't have it, and we don't know where it's located. The police are involved, and we're making progress at getting your mom back, but you have to be patient.“ ”That is so sucky,“ he said. ”You're right,“ I said on a sigh. ”It is totally sucky.“ Mooner and Gary were waiting on Morelli's front steps when I pulled to the curb with Zook. They were dressed in Army fatigues, and they stood and saluted when I parked the car. Zook and I burst out laughing. ”I know they're goofy,“ I said to Zook, ”but I like them. They're in the moment.“ I unlocked Morelli's front door, and Bob rushed out and ran around in circles. He did some yelping and grunting, and then he hunched and pooped out my underwear. ”Whoa,“ Mooner said. ”Victoria's Secret colonic, dude. Far out.“ Bob ran back into the house the instant he was done, and we all followed. Eventually, I'd come out in rubber gloves and contamination suit and scoop up the deposit, but for now I was walking away from it. ”Where did you get the clothes?“ I asked Mooner. ”Army surplus. We got some for the Zookster, too.“ ”We changed the patches,“ Gary said. ”We made them say “Homegrown Security.”“ I got everyone settled in the living room with chips and pretzels and sodas. I phoned for pizza. I asked about Zook's homework. How bizarre was this? It was like running a day-care facility. Makes you wonder, doesn't it? I mean, who am I? I was raised to have traditional values, but I screwed up on my first marriage big-time, I took an odd job, and now I love two men. One is definite husband-and-father material. The other ... I don't know what to think of the other. And now here I was, doing my ”mother cat“ impersonation. The doorbell rang and I went to answer it. I opened the door and didn't bother to hold back the grimace. It was Brenda and her film crew. ”How about it?“ she said. ”Have you thought of anything?“ ”No.“ ”Make something up. You've got an imagination, right? This is the news. It doesn't have to be real.“ ”I thought that was the whole purpose of the news... to report real stuff.“ ”Oh puhleeze. You don't actually believe that crap. You think we could get ratings with real stuff? The news people make up entire wars. Listen, all you have to do is find something sexy to say about the money. Like, “Tall, dark and handsome Morelli was taking a nap, and he woke up and thought he heard a noise in the yard, so he rushed out naked and tackled some guy who was digging with a shovel, and Morelli saw a couple hundred-dollar bills sticking out of the ground.”“ Brenda smiled. ”See? It's easy."
“I'd like to help you, but I don't think I could pull that off.”
“Of course, you can. Look at me. I can do it, and I'm not that good. I'm just motivated. I've got a three-million-dollar house in Brentwood with a mortgage big enough to choke a horse.” She looked at the guys on the couch. “Is that Gary?”
Gary waved at her. “I'm lurking.”
“No shit,” she said. “What's with the uniform? Did you join the Army?”
“Homegrown Security,” Gary said. “I'm a gunnery officer.”
“Great,” Brenda said. “Perfect. A gunnery officer. That makes me feel real safe.”
“Yeah, but you still have to watch out for the pizza,” Gary said.
Brenda's face brightened. “Maybe I could do a feature on stalkers. We could film you stalking me,” she said to Gary.
“I appreciate the offer, but no, thanks,” Gary said. “I haven't got time to stalk right now. I promised the guys I'd lurk, and I'm on standby with Homegrown.”
Brenda narrowed her eyes at Mooner. “You stole my stalker.”
“No way, the Mooner doesn't steal. He, like, borrows sometimes, but he's got a code. He's protecting his oneness.”
“Oneness, my ass,” Brenda said. “I could own you like a cheap suit.”
“Whoa,” Mooner said. “Have you been talking to the wood elves?”
The soundman was standing behind Brenda. “If we don't get film to the studio soon, we'll miss our spot.”
“I'm not missing my spot,” Brenda said, turning from me and storming off the porch.
I closed the door and peeked out the living room window at her. She was standing over Bob's poo while the cameraman zoomed in for a closer look.