“I’ve already got it on my calendar. I figure if I’m there, I’ll have a head start at solving whatever homicides go down.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about Angie. I’m pretty sure she’s got a broken trigger finger.”
“Angie is the least of it. There are rumblings that something was lost besides Jimmy’s life, and there’s a lot of panic and finger-pointing going on by the La-Z-Boys. Jimmy was known as the Keeper of the Keys. And the keys seem to be missing.”
“This is a big deal?”
“Apparently,” Morelli said.
“How hard would it be to find keys? Did they look in his house?”
“My source tells me they looked everywhere. Jimmy’s house, his office, his car, and the box he was flown home in.”
“Jeez.”
“I’m thinking sooner or later the search committee is going to get to your grandmother.” Morelli looked over at the pizza box on the coffee table. “Do you want that last piece?”
“Yes.”
“What would it take for you to give it up?”
“Make a suggestion.”
Morelli smiled.
“I know what that smile means,” I said. “And it’s not going to get you that last piece of pizza. That smile is a promise of something I’ll get no matter who eats the pizza.”
“Okay,” Morelli said. “You make a suggestion.”
I had nothing. My mother was already doing my laundry. Morelli couldn’t afford to buy me a new car. And at some time in the very near future Morelli was going to get me naked and make me happy. I suppose I had one or two requests I might make regarding the road to my happiness, but it felt awkward to say them out loud in front of the pizza.
Bob jumped off the couch, stuck his head in the pizza box, and ate the last piece.
“Problem solved,” Morelli said, sliding his arm around me, cuddling me close to him. “Now let’s discuss dessert.”
CHAPTER TWO
MORELLI AND BOB left my apartment at sunup. I dragged myself out of bed a couple hours later. Unlike Morelli, I’m not required to attend early morning briefings. Plus, Morelli looks forward to a day of fighting crime. Me not so much.
I took a fast shower, got dressed in my usual uniform of sneakers, jeans, and a girly T-shirt, and ambled into the kitchen. Morelli has a big dog for a roommate and I have Rex. I love Bob, but I think I made the better pet selection. I don’t have to walk Rex, and he has very small poop. I filled Rex’s water bottle, gave him some hamster food, dropped a couple Froot Loops into his dish, and he was good for the day.
I grabbed a handful of Froot Loops for myself, and shrugged into a black sweatshirt. It was the end of September, and the morning was cool. I hung my messenger bag on my shoulder, locked my apartment door behind me, and trudged off to my car. Fifteen minutes later I was at the bail bonds office.
Connie is the office manager, and she’s also a niece to the late Jimmy Rosolli. She’s a little older than me, a little shorter, a little more voluptuous, and 50 percent more Italian.
“Omigod,” Connie said when I walked through the door. “I can’t believe I missed the viewing last night. I knew it would be a mob scene, so I stayed home. Big mistake. Everyone’s talking about it. Did Grandma really break Angie’s fingers? Angie has her hands so bandaged up they look like basketballs. Louise Felati sent me a picture.”
“Angie had a grip on the casket, and the lid let go and fell down on her fingers,” I said. “It was an act of God.”
Lula was sitting on one of the two uncomfortable plastic chairs that had been placed in front of Connie’s desk. Lula is a plus-sized woman whose bounty runneth over in a size 8 minidress. The bounty would still be running over in a size 12 minidress, but Lula managed to pour it all into an 8. She’s a former ’ho who kept her wardrobe but changed her profession. She works for Vinnie now and mostly does whatever she feels like doing. Usually she hangs with me. I suspected she was sitting in the uncomfortable chair, rather than the faux leather couch against the wall, because the chair was closer to the box of donuts on Connie’s desk.
“No doubt it was an act of God,” Lula said. “God works in mysterious ways. You never know when bad juju is gonna catch up to you. Lucky I only got good juju. That’s on account of I live a righteous life.”
“You were a hooker,” Connie said.
“Yeah, but I was a damn good hooker,” Lula said. “I gave people their money’s worth. I never scrimped on anything. Everybody knew you come to Lula, and she gets the job done.”
I took a donut from the box and went to the coffee machine at the back of the office. “Did anything new come in for me this morning? I’m running low on scumbags I have to find.”