“You find out what Mo has to trade?”
“Information.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“That's all I can tell you,” Morelli said.
Morelli was screwing me over again. “Thanks for nothing.”
“It's the best I can do.”
“Your best isn't very good, is it?”
“Depends.” His eyes darkened. Bedroom eyes. “You thought I was pretty hot last night.”
“I was drunk.”
Morelli curled his fingers into my jacket collar and dragged me closer. “You wanted me bad.”
“It was a low point in my life.”
His lips skimmed mine. “How about now? Are you at a low point now?”
“I will never again be that low,” I said haughtily.
Morelli kissed me like he meant it and released my collar. “Got to get back to work,” he said. He crossed the street, angled into his 4x4 and drove off without looking back.
After a moment I realized my mouth was hanging open. I snapped my mouth shut, whipped out my cell phone and called Connie. I told her about Mo and Dickie, and I asked to talk to Lula.
“Hey girlfriend,” Lula said.
“Hey yourself. How's it going?”
“It's a little slow. It's more than halfway through the day, and the body count is zip.”
“Got a job for you.”
“Oh boy. Here it comes.”
“Not to worry. It's very tame. I want you to meet me at the entrance to the Shuman Building.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
Twenty minutes later we were in the elevator.
“What's going on?” Lula wanted to know. “What are we doing here?”
I pushed the button for the third floor. “Mo's hired himself an attorney. The attorney's name is Dickie Orr, and we're on our way to talk to him.”
“Okay, but why do you need me? Is this guy dangerous?”
“No. Dickie Orr isn't dangerous. I'm the one who's dangerous. Dickie Orr is my ex-husband, and your job is to keep me from strangling him.”
Lula made a low whistle. “This day's just getting better and better.”
The offices of Kreiner and Kreiner were at the end of the hall. There were four names lettered in gold on the office door: Harvey Kreiner, Harvey Kreiner Jr., Steven Owen, Richard Orr.