Ten minutes later I rechecked the peephole. Dave was still there. I retreated to my bedroom and folded the clean laundry that had been sitting in my laundry basket all week. I made my bed. I brushed my teeth. I went back and looked out the peephole. Dave was still there. Criminy. What did it take to get rid of this guy?
I very quietly made myself a peanut butter sandwich and washed it down with a beer. I checked my email. I admired my toes. I fell asleep at the dining room table and awoke with a start when the phone rang.
“Thank goodness you’re home,” Grandma Mazur said. “This is an emergency. I was supposed to go to the funeral parlor tonight with Lucille Ticker, and she just called and said her hemorrhoids were acting up, and she’s staying home. I need a ride real bad. Your mother is at some church function, and your father is at the lodge doing whatever it is he does there. The viewing starts in ten minutes, and it’s going to be the event of the year. Lou Dugan is laid out.”
Viewings weren’t high on my list of favorite things to do, but Lou Dugan’s viewing could be worthwhile. There was a chance Nick Alpha would be there. What better place to confront a killer than at his victim’s viewing?
“I’m on my way,” I told grandma.
I ran into my bedroom and made a quick wardrobe change into black heels, a black pencil skirt, and a white wrap shirt. God forbid my mother found out I went to a viewing in jeans and a T-shirt. Dave was still in the hall when I burst out the door.
“Omigosh,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I knocked, but no one answered.”
“I must have been in the shower. Sorry, but I have to go. I’m late picking Grandma up.”
“I could go in and cook,” Dave said.
“Here’s the thing, Dave. This isn’t working. You need to find a different twirler.”
“I don’t want a different twirler.”
I rolled my eyes, grunted, and locked my door. “Gotta go,” I said. And I hustled down the hall and into the elevator.
He took the stairs, and we reached the lobby at the same time.
“It’s Morelli, right?” Dave said. “Morelli doesn’t want you spending time with me.”
I crossed the lot and unlocked the Shelby. “Morelli doesn’t care. You’re not a threat. And besides, Morelli would trade me in for a lamb chop.”
“New car?” Dave asked.
“Yeah. Someone dumped a dead guy in my SUV.”
“It’s hard to keep up with your cars.”
I got behind the wheel, locked my doors, waved good-bye to Dave, and drove out of the lot. I felt kind of bad leaving him standing there with his wine and his grocery bag, but honestly I didn’t know what else to do with him. He wasn’t paying attention.
Grandma was waiting for me at the curb. She was wearing a cherry red dress with a matching jacket, little black heels, and a pearl necklace, and she was holding her big black leather purse. Grandma carried a .45 long barrel, and it didn’t fit into a more dainty purse. Her lipstick matched her dress, and her hair was perfectly curled.
I pulled up next to her, and she got in.
“This is a beaut of a car,” she said, buckling her seat belt. “I bet this car belongs to Ranger.”
“Yep.”
“It’s a shame he doesn’t want to marry you. He’d get my vote. He’s sexy as all get out, and he’s got badass cars.”
“Do you like him better than Dave?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I like Dave okay, but I’d take sex over cooking any day of the week. You can buy a burger, but it’s not every day you find a man with a package like Ranger. And I’m not talking about what you’re thinking, although I noticed, and it looks pretty good. I’m talking about the whole package from his sideburns on down. He’s hot. And I think he’s smart. He’s made a success of himself.”
“He has baggage,” I said. “He’s not willing to take on more.”
“Then I guess I’d go with the guy who can cook.”
“What about Morelli?”
“He’s okay. He’s hot, too, but I don’t see you making much progress there.”
I pulled into the funeral home lot, but there were no spaces left. I let Grandma out and found a parking place a block away. Everyone was here to see Lou Dugan. I walked back to the funeral home and made my way through the crush of people on the porch, through the open doors, and into the lobby. I worked my way through the crowd, head down to minimize social contact, breathing shallow to minimize the smell of funeral flowers and senior citizens.
Someone snagged my elbow, and I was forced to pick my head up. It was Mrs. Gooley. I went to school with her daughter Grace.