My mother set the tray table back upright and picked the plate and napkin up off the floor. “Good thing you were done with lunch,” she said to my father. “Would you like fruit or ice cream for dessert?”
“Ice cream,” he said.
“Chocolate. And then I’m going out with the cab.”
My mother went to the kitchen to get the ice cream, and Grandma and I went out to the front porch to watch the car burn. Two cop cars were the first to arrive. A couple fire trucks and an EMT truck were close behind.
I got a call from Ranger. He decided a while ago that my safety was his responsibility, so he keeps tabs on me by installing tracking devices on my cars. Initially I was annoyed, but the truth is they come in handy every now and then. Obviously, he was just notified by his control room that his bug went dead.
“Babe,” he said.
“I sort of firebombed my car,” I said, “but no one was in it, so it’s all okay.”
“Good to know,” he said. And he disconnected.
Morelli called next.
“I just heard from dispatch that there’s a fire at your parents’ house,” Morelli said.
“Someone pitched a Molotov cocktail through the living room window. It didn’t break because it landed on the rug, and I was able to toss it back out the window before it exploded. Unfortunately, I accidentally pitched it at my car that was parked in front of the house.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No. We’re all okay. The fire trucks are here.”
“I assume this was meant as a message to Grandma.”
“I assume you’re right. Are you still looking for body parts?”
“Yeah. I think I just found a nose.”
“Boy, you really know how to have fun.”
“Gotta go,” Morelli said. And he disconnected.
My phone rang again. It was Connie.
“There’s black smoke coming from the vicinity of your parents’ house,” Connie said.
“It’s my car.”
“Again?”
“Someone tossed a firebomb into my parents’ house, I tossed it back out, and it exploded my car.”
“Bummer.”
“You have any idea who might have done this?”
“It would be a long list,” Connie said.
Another fire truck pulled up with lights flashing and sirens screaming, and I ended the conversation with Connie.
“This is going to put a crimp in my plans,” Grandma yelled at me. “I was hoping you’d give me a ride to bingo. I usually go with Evelyn Malinowski, but she has hemorrhoids and doesn’t want to go to bingo with her whoopee cushion.”
“You should give up bingo tonight,” I said. “Someone just tried to firebomb you.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Grandma said. “They could have been after you. You get firebombed all the time.”