“Jeez, Steph,” he said, “didn't you sleep on the plane?”
“I never sleep on a plane. I have to be ready in case it crashes.” I heaved myself off the seat and shuffled up the sidewalk. Morelli opened the door and I braced myself for the Bob attack. We heard him thundering through the house, coming from the kitchen. He reached the small foyer and Morelli held up a giant dog biscuit. Bob's eyes got wide, Morelli threw the biscuit over Bob's head down the hallway, and Bob turned in mid-?gallop and followed the biscuit.
“Pretty smart,” I said.
“I should take him to obedience training, but I never seem to get to it.”
What Morelli meant was that he should try obedience training again. Bob had flunked out twice before.
Morelli set the bag on the floor at the foot of the stairs and removed the computer. “I'm not going to open this. I'm going to turn it over to the experts first thing tomorrow.”
That had been my thought, too. I hadn't fooled with the computer.
“Have you told Vinnie about Singh?” Morelli asked.
“I left that for Connie. She stayed behind to clean some things up.”
“Vinnie'll put a good spin on it. You found Singh. That's the important part. The system worked.”
“I need more sleep,” I said. “Wake me up when it's time for dessert.”
“Bad news,” Morelli said. “Dessert will be too late. We're expected for dinner at my mom's house. We accepted this invitation two weeks ago,” Morelli said. “It's Mary Elizabeth s birthday.”
I'd totally forgotten. Mary Elizabeth is Joe's great-?aunt. She's a chain-?smoking booze hound and she's a retired nun. And no party for Mary Elizabeth would be complete without Grandma Bella because Mary Elizabeth is Bella's younger sister. I got a sharp pain in my right temple and my blood ran cold. I was having dinner with Grandma Bella.
“Are you okay?” Morelli asked. “You look sort of white.”
“I'm having dinner with Grandma Bella. My life is passing in front of my eyes. I'm as good as dead. I should just stand outside and let the carnation killer shoot me.”
“You have to have the right attitude about Grandma Bella.”
“And that would be what?”
Joe shrugged. “She's crazy.”
I slept until late afternoon. When I woke I was in Joe's bed, still dressed in my travel clothes, partially tangled in a lightweight summer patchwork quilt. The sheets were rumpled under me and the pillowcase was damp with sweat and humidity. Aunt Rose's gauzy curtains hung limp against the open window. The air was heavy, but the light was soft. The room felt like Joe and good sex. There were mental imprints of time spent here that didn't get smoothed away with new sheets. If I closed my eyes in this room, even if I was alone, I could feel Morelli's hands on me.
And today the room smelled like popcorn.
The popcorn aroma was drifting up from the living room where Joe and Bob were watching a ball game. I shuffled downstairs and looked in the popcorn bowl. Empty. I checked out the game. Not interesting.
Joe looked over at me. “I could call and cancel.”
“You can't do that. It's a birthday!”
“I'd come up with something good. I'd say you broke your leg. Or you had an appendix attack. Or you insisted we stay home and have a lot of sloppy sex.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the thought, but I don't think any of those would work.”
“The sex would work.”
I smiled at him and took the empty popcorn bowl back to the kitchen. “Nice try.”
I toasted a bagel, smeared it with too much butter, and ate it with the butter dripping down my arm. Do I know how to eat a bagel, or what? I went back upstairs, took a shower, and got dressed for dinner.
I was halfway through makeup when Morelli appeared in the bathroom doorway. He leaned a shoulder against the jamb, hands in pants pockets. “We're late,” he said. “How's it going?”
It wasn't going good. Dinner with Joe's family had me in a state. I'd accidentally poked myself in the eye with the mascara wand and almost gone blind. “It's going great,” I said. “Give me another minute.”