“Of course you woke us,” I said. “It's two in the morning. What the heck are you doing?”
“I felt lucky,” Grandma said.
“I don't think the money is buried in the backyard,” Morelli told her.
“That's okay,” she said. “I still feel lucky. It isn't everyday I get to see a man in his underwear.”
“How did you get here?” I asked her.
“I drove the Buick.”
“You're not supposed to drive,” I told her.
“I'm old. I've got rights,” she said.
That could be true, but Grandma Mazur was the worst driver ever. She knew only one speed. Foot to the floor.
“I'll drive Grandma home,” I said to Morelli.
I dropped Grandma off at the door and locked the Buick up in my father's garage. Morelli was waiting curb-side in the SUV when I got to the front of my parents' house. I slid onto the passenger seat and looked over at him. He was only wearing the boxers.
“I thought you might have changed your mind about the SUV,” Morelli said.
I checked out his underwear, which was imprinted with pictures of bunnies.
“Where did you get those shorts?” I asked.
“Wal-Mart. They came in a pack.”
I blew out a sigh. Morelli was irresistible in his bunny boxers. “I haven't changed my mind about the SUV, but I've changed my mind about your bedroom.”
Morelli is at his best on a Saturday morning. His body temperature is a little higher and his blood pressure is a little lower than on a Monday. Everything about him is a little softer, a little more sensual. He was at the kitchen table in faded navy sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt that had the sleeves cut short. I suspected he was commando under the sweatpants. He'd showered, but he hadn't shaved, and he looked like he could give a dead woman an orgasm.
He glanced up from his paper and smiled at me. “Shazam.”
I smiled back at him. It had been a multiple shazam morning.
I sipped my coffee. “What's going on today?”
“I'm getting someone to demo the basement floor. And I'm going door-to-door looking for Dom. I think you're right. He's nearby.”
It was a little after eight, and Zook was still sleeping. Mooner and Gary hadn't yet appeared on Morelli's front doorstep. The sound of car doors slamming shut and people talking carried in from Morelli's backyard.
“Its Saturday morning,” Morelli said. “Don't these people take a day off?”
I peeked out the window. “Brenda is in the yard with the film crew.”
Morelli took his coffee to the door and stepped out.
“Hell-o!” Brenda said, eyeballing Morelli. “You are hot. Hold me back!”
Morelli turned and looked at me. “Is she for real?”
“Yes. And you want to keep arm's distance, or she'll give you a pat-down.”
“You're trespassing on private property,” Morelli said. “And you've ignored the crime scene tape.”
“We didn't ignore it,” the cameraman said. “We got a real good shot of it.”