Eleven on Top
Ryan Laski crossed the yard and found Morelli. “I'm seeing a disturbing pattern here,” Laski said. “Was anyone hurt... or vaporized?”
“Just property damage,” Morelli said.
“I've sent some uniforms off to talk to neighbors. Hard to believe no one ever sees this guy. This isn't the sort of place where people mind their own business.”
A mobile satellite truck for one of the local television stations cruised into the alley.
Laski cut his eyes to it. “This is going to be a big disappointment. I'm sure they're hoping for disintegrated bodies.”
There's something hypnotic about a disaster scene, and time moves in its own frame of reference, lost in a blur of sound and color. When the first fire truck rumbled away I looked at my watch and realized I had ten minutes to get to Marsillio's.
“The rehearsal dinner!” I said to Morelli. “I forgot about the rehearsal dinner.”
Morelli was blankly staring at the charred remains of his garage and the blackened carcass of his SUV. “Just when you think things can't get any worse...”
“The rehearsal dinner won't be that bad.” This was a blatant lie, but it didn't count since we both knew it was a blatant lie. “We need a car,” I said.
“Where's Laski? We can use his car.”
“That's a department car. You can't borrow a department car to go to a rehearsal dinner.”
I looked at my watch. Nine minutes! Shit. I didn't want to call anyone in the wedding party. I'd rather they read about this in the paper tomorrow. I didn't think Joe would be excited about getting a lift from Ranger. There was Lula, but it would take her too long to get here. I searched the crowd of people still milling around in Morelli's yard. “Help me out here, will you?” I said to Morelli. “I'm running down roads of blind panic.”
“Maybe I can get someone to drop us off,” Morelli said.
And then it came to me. Big Blue. “Wait a minute! I just had a brain flash. The Buick is still sitting in front of the house.”
“You mean the Buick that's been sitting there unprotected? The Buick that's very likely booby-trapped?”
“Yeah, that one.”
Now Morelli was seriously looking around. “I'm sure I can find someone...”
I could hear time ticking away. I looked down at my watch. Seven minutes. “I have seven minutes,” I said to him.
“This is an extreme circumstance,” Morelli said. “It's not every day someone blows up my garage. I'm sure your family will understand.”
“They won't understand. This is an everyday occurrence for me.”
“Good point,” Morelli said. “But I'm not getting in the Buick. And you're not getting in it either.”
“I'll be careful,” I said. And I ran through the house, locking up behind myself. I got to the Buick, and I hesitated. I wasn't crazy about my life, but I wasn't ready to die. I especially didn't like the idea that my parts could be distributed over half the county. Okay, so what was stronger... my fear of death or my fear of not showing up at the rehearsal dinner? This one was a no-brainer. I unlocked the Buick, jumped behind the wheel, and shoved the key into the ignition. No explosion. I drove around the block, turned into the alley, and parked as close as I could to Morelli. I left the motor running and ran to retrieve him.
“You're a nut,” he said.
“I looked it all over. I swear.”
“You didn't. I know you didn't. You didn't have time. You just took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and got in.”
“Five minutes!” I shrieked. “I've got five friggin' minutes. Are you going with me or what?”
“You're unglued.”
“And?”
Morelli blew out a sigh and hobbled over to the Buick. I put the crutches in the trunk and loaded Morelli into the car with his back to the door, his casted leg stretched flat on the backseat.
“I guess you're not that unglued,” Morelli said. “You just spared a few seconds to look up my pants leg again.”
He was right. I'd taken a few seconds to look up his pants leg. I couldn't help myself. I liked the view.
I got behind the wheel and put my foot to the floor. When I reached the corner the Buick was rolling full-steam-ahead and I didn't want any unnecessary slowdowns, so I simply jumped the curb and cut across Mr. Jankowski's lawn. This was the hypotenuse is shorter than the sum of two sides school of driving, and the only thing I remember from high school trigonometry.
Morelli fell off the backseat when I jumped the curb, and a lot of creative cursing followed.
“Sorry,” I yelled to Morelli. “We're late.”
“You keep driving like this and we're going to be dead.”
I got there with no minutes to spare. And there were no parking places. It was Friday night, and Marsillio's was packed.
“I'm dropping you off,” I said. No.
“Yes! I'm going to have to park a mile away, and you can't walk with that cast.” I double-parked, jumped out, and hauled Morelli out of the backseat.
I gave him his crutches, and I left him standing on the curb while I ran inside and got Bobby V. and Alan. “Get him up the stairs and into the back room,”
I told them. “I'll be there in a minute.”
I roared away, circling blocks, looking in vain for a place to park. I looked for five minutes and decided parking wasn't going to happen. So I parked in front of a fire hydrant. It was very close to Marsillio's, and if there was a fire I'd run out and move the car. Problem solved.
I rolled into the back room just as the antipasto was set on the table. I took my seat beside Morelli and shook out my napkin. I smiled at my mother. I smiled at Valerie. No one smiled back. I looked down the line at Kloughn. Kloughn smiled at me and waved. Kloughn was wasted. Drunk as a skunk.
Grandma didn't look far behind.
Morelli leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Your ass is grass. Your mother's going to cut you off from pineapple upside-down cake.”
“This is the big day,” Morelli said.
I was slumped in a kitchen chair, staring at my mug of coffee. It was almost eight o'clock, and I wasn't looking forward to what lay in front of me. I was going to have to call my mom and tell her about the cello. Then I was going to have to give her the fire details. Then I was going to dress up like an eggplant and walk down the aisle in front of Valerie.
“Your big day, too,” I said. “You're Albert's best man.” “Yeah, but I don't have to be a vegetable.” “You have to make sure he gets to the church.”
“That could be a problem,” Morelli said. “He wasn't looking good last night. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don't think he's hot on marriage.”
“He's confused. And he keeps having this nightmare about Valerie smothering him with her wedding gown.” Morelli was looking beyond me, out the back window to the place where he used to have a garage.
“Sorry about your garage,” I said. “And your SUV.” “Tell you the truth, it wasn't much of a loss. The garage was falling apart. And the SUV was boring. Bob and I need something more fun. Maybe I'll buy a Hummer.”
I couldn't see Morelli in a Hummer. I thought Morelli was more suited to his Due. But of course, Bob couldn't ride on the Due. “Your Ducati wasn't in the garage,” I said.
“Where's the Ducati?”
“Getting new pipes and custom paint. No rush now. By the time I get the cast off it'll be too cold to ride.” The phone rang and I froze. “Don't answer it.” Morelli looked at the caller ID and handed the phone over to me. “Guess who.”
“Stephanie,” my mother said. “I have terrible news. It's about your sister. She's gone.” “Gone? Gone where?” “Disney World.”
I covered the phone with my hand. “My mothers been drinking,” I whispered to Morelli.
“I heard that,” my mother said. “I haven't been drinking. For goodness sakes, it's eight o'clock in the morning.”
“You have too been drinking,” Grandma yelled from the background. “I saw you take a nip from
the bottle in the cupboard.”
“It was either that or kill myself,” my mother said. “Your sister just called from the airport. She said they were all on a plane... Valerie, the three girls, and cuddle umpkins. And they were going to Disney World, and she had to disconnect because they were about to take off. I could hear the announcements over the phone. I sent your father over to her apartment, and it's all locked up.”
“So there's no wedding?”
“No. She said she didn't lose enough weight. She said she was sixty pounds short. And then she said something about cuddle umpkins having an asthma attack from her wedding gown. I couldn't figure out what that was about.”
“What about the reception? Is there a reception?” “No.”
“Never?”
“Never. She said if they liked Disney World they were going to live there and never return to Jersey .”
“We should get the cake,” I said. “Be a shame to waste the cake.”
“At a time like this, you're thinking of cake? And what's wrong with your new cell phone?” my mother asked. “I tried to call you, and it's not working.”
“It got blown up in Joe's garage.”
“Be sure to give me your new number when you replace your phone,” my mother said. “I'm sorry you didn't get to play the cello for everyone.”
“Yeah, that would have been fun.”
I disconnected and looked across the table at Morelli. “Valerie's going to Disney World.”
“Good for her,” Morelli said. “Guess that leaves the rest of the day open. It'll give you a chance to look up my pants leg again.”
Here's a basic difference between Morelli and me. My first thought was always of cake. His first thought was always of sex. Don't get me wrong. I like sex... a lot. But it's never going to replace cake.
Morelli topped off our coffee. “What did your mother say when you told her about your cell phone?”
“She said I should tell her my new number when I got a new phone.”
“That was it?”
“Pretty much. Guess your garage wasn't big news.”
“Hard to top the Mama Macaroni explosion,” Morelli said.
Last night, Morelli's garage had been cordoned off with crime-scene tape, and men were now carefully moving around inside the tape, gathering evidence, photographing the scene. A couple cop cars and crime-scene vans were parked in the alley. A few neighbors were standing, hands in pockets, watching at the edge of Morelli's yard.
I saw Laski cross the yard and come to the back door. Laski let himself in and put a white bakery bag on the table. “Doughnuts,” he said. “You got coffee?”
Two uniforms followed Laski into the kitchen.
“Was that a bakery bag I saw come in here?” one of them asked.
I started a new pot of coffee going and excused myself. The house was going to be filled with cops today. Morelli wasn't going to need Nurse Stephanie.
I took a shower, pulled my hair back into a half-assed ponytail, and dressed in black jeans, a black T-shirt, and the Pumas. I grabbed the black sweatshirt and the keys to the Buick and returned to the kitchen to give the good news to Morelli.
“I'm going to work,” I told him. “I wasn't able to get through everything yesterday.”
Our eyes held and I guess Morelli decided I was actually going in to work and not going in to boff Ranger. “Are you taking the Buick?”
“Yes.”
“Let Ryan go over the car before you touch it.”
That worked just fine for me. I wasn't in the mood to get exploded.
I had three complete files in front of me. Barroni, Gorman, and Lazar. I had Runion running on the first of the search programs. I had my pad half filled with notes, but so far, nothing had added up to anything resembling a clue.
I knew by the sudden silence that Ranger was in the control room. When the men were alone there was constant low-level chatter. When Ranger appeared there was silence. I rolled back so I could see into the room. Ranger was standing, quietly talking to Tank. He glanced my way and our eyes met. He finished his conversation with Tank, and he crossed the room to speak to me.
His hair was still damp from his shower, and when he entered my cubicle he brought the scent of warm Ranger and Bulgari shower gel with him. He leaned against my desk and looked down at me. “Aren't you supposed to be in a wedding?”
“Valerie took off for Disney World.”
“Alone?”
“With Albert and the three kids. It's almost ten o'clock. Aren't you getting a late start? Have a late night?”
“I worked out this morning. I understand you had an interesting evening. You stopped sending signals abruptly at six-oh-four. We heard the fire and police request go out on the scanner at six-ten. Tank reported to me at six-twelve that there were no injuries. Next time call me, so I don't have to send a man out.”
“Sorry. My phone went with the garage.”
Ranger flipped my top drawer open. I'd left my gun and stun gun and pepper spray in the drawer overnight.
“I forgot to take them,” I said.
“Forget them again, and you don't have a job.”
“That's harsh.”
“Yeah, but you can keep the key to my apartment.”
TWELVE
Ranger took my pad and read through my notes. He looked over at the thick printouts on my desk. “Files on Barroni, Gorman, and Lazar?”
“Yes. I'm running Runion now. I think he fits the profile. If you haven't got anything better to do, you might go over the files for me. Maybe you'll see something I missed.”
Ranger slouched in the chair next to me and started with Barroni.
I finished Runion a little after noon. I printed him out and pushed back from my station. Ranger looked over at me. He was on the third file.
“How long are you staying?” Ranger asked.
“As long as it takes. I'm going to the kitchen for a sandwich.”
“Bring something back for me. I want to keep reading.”
“Something?”
“Anything.”
“You don't mean that. You have all these rules about eating. No fat. No sugar. No white bread.”
“Babe, I don't keep things in my kitchen that I don't eat.”
“You want tuna?”
“No. I don't want tuna.”
“You see!”
Ranger put the file aside and stood. He crooked an arm around my neck, kissed the top of my head, and dragged me off to the kitchen. We got chicken salad on wheat, bottles of water, and a couple apples and oranges.
“No chips,” I said. “Where are the chips?”
“I have chips upstairs in my apartment,” Ranger said.
“Are you trying to lure me to your apartment with chips?”
Ranger smiled.
“Okay, tell me the truth. Do you really have chips?”
“There are some things a woman should find out for herself,” Ranger said.
I thought that was as far as I wanted to go under the present circumstances. Going upstairs with Ranger, chips or no chips, was a complication I didn't think I could manage right now. So I returned his smile and carted my food back to the cubicle.
I was almost done rereading Runion when it hit me. The one possible thing that would tie the four men to each other. I looked over at Ranger and saw that he was watching me. Ranger had seen it, too. He was a step ahead of me.
“I haven't read Runion yet,” Ranger said. “Tell me he was in the army.”
“He was in the army.”
“Thirty-six years ago he was stationed at Fort Dix .” Bingo.
“A lot of people pass through Fort Dix ,” Ranger said. “But it feels good.”
I agreed. It felt good. “I'm tired of sitting,” I told him. “I think we need a field trip.”
“Babe, you're not going to make me go to the mall, are you?” “I was thinking more along the lines of doing some B and E on Anthony's house.”
“I thought you were out
of the B and E business.”
“Here's the thing, someone keeps blowing up my cars, and it's getting old.”
Ranger's cell rang. He answered it and passed it over to me. “It's Morelli,” he said.