"Will you look at this," Grandma said. "Closed casket. Isn't this a fine howdy-do. I get dressed up and come out to pay my respects, and I don't even get to see anything."
Martha Deeter was shot and autopsied. They'd taken her brain out to get weighed. After she was put back together she probably looked like Frankenstein. I was personally relieved to see a closed casket.
"I'm going to check out the flowers," Grandma said. "See who sent what."
I did another crowd scan and spotted Terry Gilman, Hello! Maybe my father was right. It was rumored that Terry Gilman worked for her uncle Vito Grizolli. Vito was a family man who ran a dry cleaning business that laundered a lot more than dirty clothes. What I heard from Connie, who was connected in a nonparticipating sort of way, was that Terry had started out in collections and was moving up the corporate ladder.
"Terry Gilman?" I said with more statement than question, extending my hand.
Terry was slim and blond and had dated Morelli all through high school. None of which endeared her to me. She was wearing an expensive gray silk suit and matching heels. Her manicure was to die for, and the gun she carried in a slim-line shoulder holster was discreetly hidden by the line of her jacket. Only someone who had worn a similar rig would notice Terry's.
"Stephanie Plum," Terry said, "nice to see you again. Were you friends with Martha?"
"No. I'm here with my grandma. She likes to come to scope out the caskets. How about you? Were you friends with Martha?"
"Business associates," Terry said.
That hung in the air for a moment.
"I hear you're working for your uncle Vito."
"Customer relations," Terry said.
Another silence.
I rocked back on my heels. "Funny how Martha and Larry died from gunshots one day apart."
"Tragic."
I lowered my voice and leaned a little closer. "That wasn't your job, was it? I mean, you weren't the one to, uh—"
"Whack them?" Terry said. "No. Sorry to disappoint you. It wasn't me. Anything else you want to know?"
"Well, yeah, actually my uncle Fred is missing."
"I didn't whack him either," Terry said.
"I didn't think so," I said, "but it never hurts to ask."
Terry glanced at her watch. "I've got to give my respects, and then I'm out of here. I have two more viewings tonight. One at Moser and one across town."
"Boy, sounds like Vito's business is booming."
Terry shrugged. "People die."
Uh-huh.
Her eyes focused on something beyond my shoulder, and her interest shifted. "Well, well," she said, "look who's here."
I turned to see who put the purr in Terry's voice and wasn't all that surprised. It was Morelli.
He draped a proprietary arm around my shoulders and smiled at Terry. "How's it going?"
"Can't complain," Terry said.
Morelli cut his eyes to the casket at the end of the room. "You know Martha?"
"Sure," Terry said. "We go way back."
Morelli smiled some more.
"I think I'll go find Grandma," I said.
Morelli tightened his hold on me. "Not yet. I need to talk to you." He nodded at Terry. "Will you excuse us?"
"I need to be moving on anyway," Terry said. She sent Joe a smoochy air kiss and went off in search of the Deeters.
Joe dragged me out to the lobby.
"That was very friendly back there," I said, trying hard not to narrow my eyes and grind my teeth.
"We have a lot in common," Morelli said. "We both work in vice."
"Hmm."
"You know, you're kind of cute when you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
"Liar."
Now my eyes were definitely narrowed, but I was secretly thinking it'd be nice if he'd kiss me. "Did you want to discuss something?"
"Yeah. I want to know what the hell went on today. Did you really beat the shit out of that poor little Briggs guy?"
"No! He fell down the stairs."
"Oh boy," Morelli said.
"He did!"
"Honey, I say that all the time, and it's never true."
"There were witnesses."
Morelli was trying to look serious, but I could see the grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Costanza said you tried to shoot the lock off, and when that didn't work you took an axe to the door."
"That's totally wrong . . . it was a tire iron."
"Christ," Morelli said. "Is it that time of the month?"
I pressed my lips together.
He tucked a clump of hair behind my ear and trailed a fingertip down my cheek.
"Guess I'll find out tomorrow."
"Oh?"
"A woman's always an easy mark at a wedding," Morelli said. I thought about the tire iron. It'd be really satisfying to clonk Morelli on the head with it. "Is that why you invited me?"
Morelli grinned.
Yep. He definitely deserved to get smacked with the tire iron. Then after I smacked him I'd kiss him. Run my hand down his chest to his flat hard stomach to his nice hard . . .
Grandma materialized at my elbow. "How nice to see you," she said to Morelli. "Hope this means you're going to start paying attention to my granddaughter again. Things are pretty dull since you got cut out of the scene."
"She broke my heart," Morelli said.
Grandma shook her head. "She don't know much."
Morelli looked pleased.
"Well, I'm ready to go," Grandma said. "Nothing to see here. They've got the lid nailed down. Besides, there's a Jackie Chan movie coming on at nine o'clock, and I don't want to miss it. Eeeya!" she said, making a kung fu-type move. "You could come over to watch it with us," Grandma said to Morelli. "We've got some pie left from dessert, too."
"Sounds good," Morelli said, "but I'm going to have to take a rain check. I'm working tonight. I have to relieve someone on a stakeout."
* * * * *
BUNCHY WAS NOWHERE in sight when we came out of the funeral home. So maybe the way to get rid of him was to feed him. I dropped Grandma off and continued on to my apartment. I circled the parking lot once, looking between cars, making sure Ramirez wasn't waiting for me.
Rex was running on his wheel when I came in. He stopped and twitched his whiskers at me when I flicked the light on.
"Food!" I said to Rex, showing him the brown grocery bag that always accompanied me home from a dinner at my parents. "Lamb leftovers, mashed potatoes, vegetables, a jar of pickled beets, two bananas, a quarter pound sliced ham, half a loaf of bread, and apple pie." I broke off a chunk of pie and dropped it into Rex's food dish, and Rex almost fell off his wheel in excitement.
I would have liked a piece of pie, too, but I thought about the little black dress and had a banana instead. I was still hungry after the banana, so I made myself half a ham sandwich. After the sandwich I picked at the lamb. And finally I gave in and ate the pie. Tomorrow morning I'd get up first thing and go for a run. Maybe. No! Definitely! Okay, I knew how to do this. I'd call Ranger and see if he wanted to run with me. Then he'd be over here first thing tomorrow and make me go out and get some exercise.
"Yo," Ranger said, answering the phone. His voice was husky, and I realized it was late and I'd probably awakened him.
"It's Stephanie. I'm sorry to be calling so late."
He took a slow breath. "No problem. Last time you called me late at night you were naked and chained to your shower curtain rod. I hope this isn't going to be disappointing."
That had happened when we'd first started working together and I barely knew him. He'd broken into my apartment and released me with clinical efficiency. I suspected he'd act differently now. The thought of him coming upon me naked and chained now gave me a hot flash.
"Sorry," I said. "You only get one call like that in a lifetime. This call's about exercise. Um, I could use some."