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Takedown Twenty(69)



“About your CR-V,” I said.

“I know about the CR-V. This is almost as good as the time you totaled my Porsche with a garbage truck. Are you okay?”

“Yep. I’m peachy.”

“Good to know,” Ranger said, and he disconnected.

Morelli took a tub of ice cream out of the freezer and began spooning it into three bowls. “What’s the word on Berger? Did you find Venetian blind cord stashed under his mattress?”

“I didn’t look under his mattress. I burned his apartment down before I got to see the bedroom.”

“More happy news.”

“Your Grandma Bella showed up at the shop today.”

“How’d that go?”

“Same old, same old. I’ve been cursed. Yada yada yada. I’m going to hell.” I took a bowl of ice cream from Morelli. “You don’t suppose the broken finger and nose and fire are from Bella, do you?”

“None of those things are from Bella. Let’s face it, Cupcake, you’re a klutz. And if you go to hell it will be your own doing and not Bella’s.”

Bob finished his ice cream in seconds and closely watched Morelli and me in case some ice cream should fall off a spoon and onto the floor.

“Bella bought blood sausage and tongue,” I said to Morelli.

Morelli brightened at the news. “I bet she’s going to make some up for the game.”

“You eat that stuff?”

“It’s great. You should learn how to make it. My mom and Bella cook it up with sauerkraut. The smell could peel wallpaper off a wall, but it tastes fantastic.”

A chill ran down my spine. I had a flashback to the game party with the shrieking kids, and the dog poop, and crazy Bella. And now I find out there’s cow tongue involved in the whole family thing.

“It’s cow tongue,” I said to him. “Have you ever seen one that wasn’t in a stew?”

“I thought you liked tongue,” Morelli said.

“Not cow tongue!”

Morelli grinned. “Guess it’s an acquired taste. I have to go. Early meeting tomorrow.”

I finished my ice cream, took two aspirin, and headed off to the bathroom. I washed my hair twice and stood under the water until the smell of burned steak was just a distant memory.





TWENTY-THREE




I HAD A terrible night. Weird dreams, a dull ache moving around inside my head, and night sweats. I gave up trying to sleep when the sun poured into my bedroom and the world turned into a big red fireball on the other side of my closed eyelids.

So here’s a fast assessment of my situation. I was hungover, unemployed, had no money, no car, no food left in my fridge, and I owed Victor pork chops.

I dragged myself out of bed, dressed in my usual uniform of jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and called Lula.

“I need a ride,” I told her.

“Thank God,” Lula said. “This better be a call telling me you’re coming back, because I’m feeling overworked. The new issue of Star came out, and I haven’t had a chance to read it. It’s ‘Lula, do this,’ and ‘Lula, do that.’ Plus your pervert cousin is saying he’s gonna hire Joyce Barnhardt, and you know how I feel about Joyce Barnhardt. I hate Joyce Barnhardt.”

Joyce Barnhardt has double-D breast implants, a lot of dyed red hair, and a way with whips and paddles that Vinnie finds appealing. She’s also a psycho sociopath and genuinely horrible person.

“First things first,” I told Lula. “A fire truck totaled my loaner CR-V, and I don’t see a replacement in my parking lot. I was hoping you’d give me a ride over to my parents’ house so I could get the Buick.”

“Get out! Are you shitting me? A fire truck totaled Ranger’s car? That’s almost as good as when the garbage truck totaled the megabucks Porsche he loaned you. That car was only one inch thick when they finally got the garbage truck off it. I can’t wait to hear about this. My day is getting better already. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

I went through jacket pockets and four shelved handbags, and searched the bottom of my messenger bag for loose change. I found three tracking units from Ranger plus two dollars and seventy-five cents. I put it all in my messenger bag and took the stairs to the lobby.

I called Ranger while I waited for Lula.

“I cleaned out my closet, and I found three mini tracking units. I assume you want them back?”

“You can return them to me, or you can plant them on yourself. One of those units helped us find you on the bridge.”

“True, but sometimes being tracked twenty-four hours a day feels creepy.”

“Your call,” Ranger said. “I’m guessing you need a car?”