LOGAN CARRIED TIKI into the hall, I grabbed my messenger bag, and Ranger carried Rex’s hamster tank. By the time we reached the parking lot, emergency vehicles were rumbling in. A fire truck, an EMT truck, two police cars. Morelli in the Buick.
Morelli parked and jogged over to us. He stood hands on hips, his expression grim.
“Are you okay?” he asked me.
“Except for my ponytail,” I said. “And some minor burns on my neck.”
He looked up at my apartment windows. “What’s going on?”
“The rocket guy blew himself up,” I said. “He needs to be checked out to make sure he’s not still booby- trapped.”
“Are you on the job?” Ranger asked Morelli.
“No,” Morelli said. “I’m off today. Jean Matson was working dispatch and called me when Rangeman asked for police assistance.”
“I’m going to see this through,” Ranger said. “It’s not necessary for anyone else to stay. I’m sure Stephanie will have to give a statement, but she can do that downtown some other time. I have the explosion and events immediately preceding it recorded.”
Morelli took Rex from Ranger. “Where do you want to go first, my house or a hair salon?”
I gave up a sigh. “Your house,” I said. I glanced at Logan, and thought he looked lost, cradling Tiki, unsure of his place. “Can we take Logan with us?”
“Sure,” Morelli said, slinging an arm around me. “Let’s go home.”
We piled into the Buick and chugged out of the lot. Minutes later we were in Morelli’s nice normal neighborhood, and the explosion seemed far away.
“I thought you were taking me to jail,” Logan said when we parked.
“It’s not at the top of my list,” I told him. “I want to change out of this wet shirt, zone out on Morelli’s couch, and let it sink in that the nightmare is over.”
I went upstairs, swapped my shirt for one of Morelli’s T-shirts, trudged into the bathroom, and looked at my hair. Any other time I would have burst into tears, but right now I was happy just to be alive. It’s hair, I told myself. It’ll grow. I crawled into Morelli’s bed and woke up hours later in a panic. The wedding! I’d forgotten all about the wedding.
I ran downstairs and found Morelli, Logan, Tiki, and Bob on the couch watching television.
“Did Ranger call? Did I miss anything?” I asked.
“We got the bullets out of Tiki, filled him in with wood putty, and colored it with a brown Magic Marker,” Logan said. “He’s feeling a lot better.”
Morelli had his hand in a bag of chips. “Ranger called and I told him you were sleeping. He’s coming by at two o’clock with the dress. Since the original maid of honor didn’t think she could lose thirty pounds in time to fit the altered dress she relinquished the gig to you. And apparently Amanda really wanted you to still be in the wedding. Ranger said if you needed anything from your apartment you should call him.”
“It’s almost two now,” I said. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I went up to look in on you and you were out like a light. I thought you needed the sleep.”
I felt around the back of my head for the burned-off ponytail. “I need to do something with my hair.”
“Cupcake, that’s a lost cause. I can cut the singed ends off if you want.”
The doorbell rang and Ranger walked in, carrying the plastic-bagged dress. He was in his tux, with a five o’clock shadow and dark circles under his eyes.
“You look like you could use a beer,” Morelli said, getting to his feet.
“It’s been a long day,” Ranger said, handing the dress over to me.
I carried the dress upstairs, took a fast shower, and pulled what was left of my hair into a ponytail again. I searched in Morelli’s medicine chest for aloe ointment and smeared some on my blistered neck. I slipped the acres of pink taffeta over my head and struggled to get it zipped. What had originally been a dress from the Little House on the Prairie collection was now straight out of the Little Whorehouse on the Prairie collection. It was so tight and cut so low in the bodice that my boobs were all popped out. If the material hadn’t snagged on my nipples they’d have been popped out too. I smashed myself in as best I could and went downstairs.
I marched into the living room in my dress and sneakers. “Do not say
“I like it,” Morelli said.
“You’re skating on thin ice, mister,” I told him.
Ranger set his empty beer bottle on the coffee table and stood. “Let’s get this done.”
I followed him out and stood looking at the 911 Turbo. “I’m not going to fit,” I said. “How am I going to get all of this dress into this little car?”
“Get in and I’ll do the rest,” Ranger said.
I swiveled around, dropped into the seat, and Ranger beat the dress into submission and stuffed it in. He was laughing when he got behind the wheel.
“Now what?” I asked.
“You’re wearing sneakers. I hope the bridal shop lady never finds out.”
“You didn’t notice in the house?”
“My eyes never got lower than your nipples. If it wasn’t for the fact that Morelli would shoot me I would have taken you on his front lawn.”
Perfect, I thought. I have half my hair burned off, I’m wearing the dress from hell, and all I have to do is show a little nipple and I’m a sex goddess. Something to remember.
Ranger rolled out of the lot and headed for Hamilton Avenue. “Your apartment is relatively clean and your door is fixed. I have another cleaning crew coming in the morning. I wouldn’t advise going back there tonight. It’ll be fine after tomorrow.”
“Orin?”
“Defused and taken away.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Ranger said. “I want to let it rest.”
“When you’re ready to talk about it I’ll tell you what he told me before he set my hair on fire. He was very, very sick.”
“I know he was sick. And maybe someday I’ll want to know his reasoning and his inner demons, but right now I’m moving on.”
He parked in the church lot and we walked to the side door. We were originally supposed to be with Kinsey and Amanda prior to the wedding, but circumstances had of course changed that. The other ushers were already collected in the vestibule. Guests were beginning to arrive. A room had been reserved for the bride and her bridesmaids. Ranger dropped me there and went to wait for Kinsey.
Everyone was there but Amanda. She was coming with her parents. None of the other women were popping out of their dresses and no one else had hair styled by a Bic lighter. They were relatives of the bride, college roommates, and best friends. They were all good people, including me in their pre-wedding excitement. No one mentioned my hair, but it was the elephant in the room.
“It was set on fire,” I finally said. “I had an episode with a crazy person, and he set my hair on fire.”
Everyone went bug-eyed.
“What happened to the crazy person?” one of the women asked.
“He blew himself up.”
“Get out! You mean like guts all over the place?”
“Not
Ranger called on my phone and asked me to come into the hall. I went out and found him smiling.
“They eloped,” he said.
“Seriously?”
“Kinsey just called. They’re on a plane for Paris.”
“Gee,” I said. “I’m all dressed up. I was looking forward to walking down the aisle in my sneakers.”
“You can wear your sneakers to the reception. They’re going ahead with it.”
