This caught my attention. 'You have one of those cop feelings, don't you?'
'Feels funky.'
I agreed. It felt funky. I ate two doughnuts, read the funnies and went upstairs to take a shower. I left the door unlocked, but Morelli didn't traipse inside. Good, I told myself. This was much better. Yeah, right.
Morelli was waiting for me when I came down the stairs. 'Ready,' I said.
Morelli looked at the big black leather tote bag draped over my shoulder. 'You have a gun in there, don't you?'
'Christ, Morelli, I'm a bounty hunter.'
'You have a permit to carry concealed?'
'You know I don't.'
'Then get rid of the gun.'
'You're wearing a gun!'
'I'm a cop.'
I screwed up my mouth. 'Big deal.'
'Listen,' Morelli said, 'this is just the way it is. I'm a cop, and I can't go out with you when I know you're carrying concealed illegally. Besides, the thought of you with a gun in your hand scares the crap out of me.'
As well it should. 'Fine,' I said, taking the gun out of my bag. 'Just don't come running to me for help.' I looked around. 'So where do I put this?'
Morelli rolled his eyes and put the gun in a drawer in the sideboard. 'You only had one, right?'
'What do I look like, Hopalong Cassidy?'
* * * * *
THE FIRST THING Morelli and I noticed was that Eddie Kuntz's car was nowhere to be seen. The second was that no one was answering the door. Morelli and I looked in the front window. No lights burning. No bodies on the floor. No sign of struggle. No Kuntz.
We were standing there with our noses pressed to the glass when the Lincoln Town Car pulled up.
'What's going on?' Leo wanted to know.
'I'm looking for Eddie,' I said. 'Have you seen him?'
Betty joined us on the porch. 'Is something wrong?'
'They're looking for Eddie,' Leo said. 'When did we see him last? Yesterday?'
'Last night,' Betty said. 'He went out a little after eight. I remember because I was watering my flowers.'
'Was his car here this morning?'
'Now that you mention it, I don't remember seeing it,' Betty said.
'Saturday night,' Leo said. 'You know how it is with a young man.'
Morelli and I looked at each other.
'Could be,' Morelli said.
I gave them my card with my phone and pager numbers. 'Just in case,' I said.
'Sure,' Leo said, 'but don't worry. He's just partying.'
They disappeared into their cool, dark house and the door clicked closed. No cake invitation.
Morelli and I went back to the truck.
'So?' I said.
'It would make sense that the note was personal and not from Maxine. It would explain the fact that it wasn't in code.'
'You really believe that?'
Morelli shrugged. 'It's possible.'
I stared into the Glick front window. 'They're watching us. I can see them standing a few feet back from the window.'
Morelli rolled the engine over. 'You have plans?'
'I thought I might visit Mrs. Nowicki.'
'Isn't that a coincidence? I woke up this morning thinking it would be a good day to go to the shore.'
The temperature was in the eighties. The sky was the color of putty. And the humidity was so high I could feel the air lying on my face. It wasn't a good day to go anywhere . . . unless it was out of Jersey.
'You aren't going to play Buddy Holly all the way to Point Pleasant, are you?'
'What's wrong with Buddy Holly?'
I grimaced. He probably liked the Three Stooges, too.
