“I want the long version.”
I gave him the long version while we ate pizza and drank beer.
“At the risk of being insensitive… you’re a disaster,” Morelli said.
“No offense taken. You’re right. I’m a disaster. I’m thinking about getting a different job.”
Morelli set the pizza box out for the trash and got the ice cream from the freezer. “The world will be relieved to hear that.” He got two bowls from the cupboard. “Do you have any good possibilities?”
“Possibilities? Yes. Good possibilities? No.”
We ate ice cream in front of the television, and then Morelli watched a showing of The Godfather, and I sat next to him with cold packs over my eyes.
“I hope I look okay by tomorrow,” I told him. “I have things to do.”
“Cupcake, you’re going to look like a train wreck tomorrow.”
“We might not get to use all the items you got at the drugstore.”
“No problem. They have an expiration date of 2023.”
TWENTY-ONE
I COULDN’T BREATHE through my nose, and I didn’t sleep well. Halfway through the night Morelli and Bob moved to the couch, and at six in the morning Morelli came in to check on me.
“I’m going to take Bob for a walk, and then I’m leaving for work,” he said. “Can I do anything for you?”
“I’m beyond help.”
He kissed me on the forehead. “You look better this morning. The swelling is down. Hardly any purple, and already you’re turning green. Green is always a good sign.”
“You should know.”
“Yeah, I’ve been known to smash my nose into a fist from time to time.”
I listened to the door click and lock behind him, and I went back to sleep. It was after nine by the time I finally dragged myself out of bed and stared into the bathroom mirror. Morelli was right about the swelling. My eyes weren’t normal, but they were much better. Dark glasses and some concealer, and I wouldn’t be too scary-looking. Not much I could do about the big adhesive bandage across my nose. That would have to stay in place for a while.
Truth is, I’d gotten off lucky. If Antwan had been two inches more to the right I might have killed an unarmed man. That’s the sort of thing that can get you an orange prison jumpsuit. The bruising on my face would go away in days, but I could have been in the jumpsuit for years. And even beyond that I wouldn’t have wanted Antwan’s death on my hands. Bad enough I shot off his ear.
I did the best I could with makeup. I left my hair long and curly, letting it partially fall across my face. And I wore a scoop-necked red sweater, hoping to focus attention on my cleavage and not on my nose. I went to my living room window and looked out at the parking lot. The little black Honda CR-V was waiting for me. It had all its wheels and side mirrors. Ranger had obviously rescued it before the chop shop went to work.
First stop of the day was the office. Connie gasped when I walked in, and Lula leaned in for a closer look.
“I expected you to look a lot worse than this,” Lula said. “Hard to tell with the bandage, but I’m guessing your nose isn’t taking a right turn no more. And you look green under the makeup, which is much better than purple. Except you sort of got a zombie thing going on.”
I went to the coffeemaker and poured myself a cup. “So I’ve been told.”
“I checked the hospitals and emergency clinics,” Connie said. “Antwan showed up at a clinic attached to Mercy Memorial. It sounds like you reconfigured most of his outer ear, and gave him a permanent part in his hair on the side of his head, but no further damage. His chart listed ‘fall down stairs’ as cause of injury.”
“You think he gonna be playing basketball today?” Lula asked.
“I don’t care if he’s playing basketball today,” I said. “I’m done. Antwan is someone else’s problem.”
“What do you mean, ‘done’?” Lula asked.
“Done being a bounty hunter, fugitive apprehension agent, bail bond enforcer,” I said. “Done, done, done.”
“Oh boy,” Connie said.
Vinnie stuck his head out of his office. “What do you mean, ‘done’? Who’s going to get Sunucchi?”
“You,” I said to Vinnie. “You’re up.”
“I’ve got things to do here,” he said. “I’ve got responsibilities.”
“Is this about blowing off that idiot’s ear?” Lula asked. “Because it was his fault anyways. And besides it was only an ear. Not to mention he ruined my Brakmin. And as far as your nose goes, it could happen to anyone with that gun. That gun’s not normal.”