“Thanks,” I said, “but I’d rather not get involved with potions.”
“They’re perfectly safe,” Annie said. “We’re very high tech in our potion making now. I’m even a member of the APMA. American Potion Makers Association.”
“Maybe I should take up making potions,” Grandma said. “I’ve been thinking about coming out of retirement. Potions might be a good business to get into. How do you join that APMA?”
“You can join online,” Annie said. “Just go to their website.”
“Is it just love potions?” Grandma wanted to know. “Or can you make all kinds of potions?”
“I specialize in love potions,” Annie said. “But potions can solve a wide range of issues.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Grandma said. “I want to have a good specialty.”
• • •
By the time Grandma and I got dropped off at my parents’ house, it was after five o’clock, and I could smell chicken frying all the way out to the street. My original intention had been to zip into the house, get the key to the Buick, and track down Buggy. Now that I was smelling my mom’s fried chicken, I was having second thoughts. I could stay for dinner and go after Buggy later. In fact, the heck with capturing Buggy today. Better to go after him tomorrow with a fully charged stun gun.
Grandma hustled into the house and went straight to the kitchen. “We found Stephanie at the mall,” she said to my mother. “She’s going to have dinner with us.”
My mother was at the stove, turning pieces of chicken in her big fry pan. “I’m trying a new recipe. I found it in a magazine. And there’s mashed potatoes and green beans. And before I forget, there were two men here looking for you. They said they were FBI.”
My heart stopped beating for a moment. “Did they give their names?”
“One was named Lancer and the other was Slasher,” my mother said. “They seemed nice. Very polite. I told them I didn’t know where you were, and they went away.”
“What’s that about?” Grandma asked. “Are you tracking down some famous criminal? I bet it’s someone on the Ten Most Wanted list.”
“It’s a misunderstanding,” I said. “If there was someone in the area on the Ten Most Wanted list, Ranger would get that job, not me. I’ll catch up with them tomorrow.”
I set the table and wandered into the living room to say hello to my dad.
“Look at this,” he said, gesturing to the television. “There’s more on that guy who got stuffed into the garbage can. They’re saying now they think he was drugged before he was snuffed and stuffed into the can. It’s not official or anything, but that’s what a security guard said. And I guess there’s a woman involved.”
“A woman?”
“They’re referring to her as a person of interest. You know what that means. The kiss of death. The person of interest is always the killer.”
I hated to think that was true, since I might be the person of interest.
My grandmother joined us. “Are you talking about the garbage can killer? I heard the dead guy was a doctor in the army, and he might have been a spy when he was over there in Afghanistan.” She sucked on her dentures. “That spying catches up to you. One minute you’re a spy, and next thing, you’re dead in a garbage can. Unless you’re James Bond. Nothing stops him. He’s balls to the wall.”
My father hunkered deeper into his chair and turned the volume up on the television.
“Shut the television off!” my mother yelled from the dining room. “It’s too loud, and dinner’s ready.”
I took my seat at the table, and my phone rang.
“I’m at the junkyard,” Morelli said. “The dog found a body, but we haven’t been able to view it. We haven’t got a big enough can opener.”
“Only one body?”
“So far. The dog’s still working. Where are you?”
“I’m having dinner at my parents’ house. My mom made fried chicken.”
“Oh man, that’s cruel. I love your mom’s fried chicken.”
“I’ll bring some back to my apartment for you.”
“This could take a while,” Morelli said.
“Whatever.”
“Who was that?” Grandma asked when I hung up. “Was that Ranger?”
“No. It was Morelli.”
“It’s hard to keep up with it all,” Grandma said. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re married, and then you’re not married, and then you’re saving chicken for Morelli.”