“Are you jealous?”
He took a beat. His answer was soft. Almost whispered. “Yes.”
Okay, I was feeling much better now. I was torturing Morelli. I opened the package and took out a golden two-pound box of Godiva chocolates. The card said Sweets to my sweetie. Kenny.
“I can’t compete with this,” Morelli said. “I can’t afford two pounds of Godiva.”
I blew out a sigh. I couldn’t do it. “It’s not mine,” I said. “Grandma’s been catfishing with my picture, and I’m getting all these stupid presents.”
That got a full-on smile from Morelli. “Your grandmother is awesome. Are you going to give this box to her?”
“No. I’m going to eat them.”
I picked one out and popped it into my mouth, but Morelli declined.
“Watching my weight,” he said.
“You look the same as always.”
Truth is, he was perfect.
“Do you want to know about Mintner?” he asked.
I put the cover back on the box. “Yes. Tell me about Mintner.”
“He was shot with the same gun that killed Getz and Linken. And he had black gunpowder on the soles of his shoes.”
“Do you have a connection?”
“Kiltman. Two alums and a dean. Beyond that, no.”
“Suspect?”
“No one who feels just right.”
“Globovic?”
“Why?” Morelli asked. “Smart kid. Maybe too smart. A little bored. Uses up excess energy planning toga parties and pranks.”
“He’s accused of assault.”
“I’ve read the arrest report, and I’m not convinced. Something happened that night and Mintner ended up with a broken arm. The break wasn’t consistent with someone getting hit with a bat.”
“Gobbles said Mintner tripped over an ottoman.”
Morelli took a beat, his expression changed, and he went into cop mode. “Do you talk to Gobbles a lot?”
“Not a lot.”
“That was an impressive bust you made this morning.”
“I didn’t have much to do with it. Ranger went in and did his thing.”
“They tell me Stanley Stoley checked out the refrigerator and lost his breakfast burrito.”
“I didn’t look. Ranger did the walk-through. Are you sure you don’t want a chocolate?”
“Positive. I have to go. Bob is at home, waiting to go for a walk.”