“Yeah. It’s been a long time since we did it in a car.”
“We never did it in a car.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. You must be thinking of the hundreds, maybe thousands, of women you did in a car.”
“We almost did it in a car.”
“Yes. Almost.”
He leaned across the gearshift and kissed me. His hand slid under my T-shirt and found my breast. His touch was warm and gentle. The first kiss was soft. The second kiss was pure passion. He unsnapped my bra, and his phone rang. We both froze. The phone kept ringing. Morelli yanked the phone out of his pocket and threw it out the window. The ringing stopped for a moment and then resumed.
“Probably you should answer it,” I said. “It sounds official.”
Morelli got out of the car and retrieved his phone. He had a short conversation and got back into the car.
“Well?” I asked.
“That was dispatch. Some woman claims she was chased out of her house by a zombie.”
“Is this for real? Are you sure you aren’t being punked?”
Morelli shrugged and rolled the engine over. “I’ll know when I get there. She’s on Surrey Street. That’s two blocks from the Morley Street cemetery . . . the epicenter of zombie activity.”
“I feel like I’m in a Ghostbusters movie.”
“Yeah, this is a ten on the weird-o-meter. I find myself feeling nostalgic for the good old days when I was sticking to blood-soaked floors, investigating gang killings.”
“After you talk to her, are you going to come home?”
“Yep.”
“And then?”
“And then I’m going to make you happy,” Morelli said.
“You’re going to give me a back rub?”
“I’m going to rub every square inch of you.”
Oh boy.
• • •
Morelli left me at his house and drove away. I didn’t expect him to return anytime soon. He’d interview the woman and then get stuck at the station doing paperwork. I went to the kitchen and got a soda out of the fridge. I turned and bumped into Diesel.
“Jeez Louise,” I said. “What the heck?”
“How’s it going?” Diesel asked.
When I found my voice, it was an octave higher than normal. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d stop in to say hello.”
“You can’t just pop into Morelli’s house.”
“Sure, I can. It’s easy. His locks are crap.” Diesel looked in the fridge. “There’s nothing to eat in here.”