a beautiful suit.'

His eyes softened. 'Yeah?' His voice pitched low. 'Why don't we skip the wedding. We could still go to the reception.'

'The reception isn't for another hour. What would we do?'

He slid his arm along the back of my seat and twirled a curl around his finger.

'No!' I said, trying to get some conviction behind it.

'We could do it in the truck. We've never done it in the truck.'

Morelli drove a four-wheel drive Toyota pickup. It was pretty nice, but it wasn't going to replace a queen-size bed. And besides, my hair would get mussed. Not to mention I was afraid Bunchy might be watching. 'I don't think so,' I said.

He brushed his lips across my ear and told me some of the things he wanted to do to me. A rush of heat fluttered through my stomach. Maybe I should reconsider, I thought. I liked all of those things. A lot.

A mile-long car pulled to the curb behind us.

'Damn,' Morelli said. 'It's my uncle Dominic and aunt Rosa.'

'I didn't know you had an uncle Dominic.'

'He's from New YorkState. And he's in retail,' Morelli said, opening his door. 'Don't ask him too many questions about the business.'

Aunt Rosa was out of the car and running toward us. 'Joey,' she yelled. 'Let me look at you. It's been so long. Look, Dominic, it's little Joey.'

Dominic ambled up and nodded at Joe. 'Long time.'

Joe introduced me.

'I heard you had a girl,' Rosa said, talking to Joe, beaming at me. 'It's about time you settled down. Give your mother more grandchildren.'

'One of these days,' Joe said.

'You're not getting any younger. Pretty soon it'll be too late.'

'It's never too late for a Morelli,' Joe said.

Dominic made a move like he was going to smack Joe in the head. 'Wise guy,' he said. Then he smiled.

*    *    *    *    *

THERE ARE ONLY a few places big enough to handle an Italian wedding reception in the Burg. Julie Morelli held hers in the back room of Angio's. The room could hold two hundred and was reaching maximum capacity when Joe and I arrived.

'And when is your wedding?' Joe's Aunt Loretta wanted to know, smiling broadly, giving Joe the squinty eye. She shook her finger at him. 'When are you going to make an honest woman out of this poor thing? Myra, come here,' she called. 'Joe's here with his girl.'

'This is such a pretty dress,' Myra said, examining my roses. 'It's so nice to find a modest young woman.'

Oh, great. I always wanted to be a modest young woman. 'I need a drink,' I said to Joe. 'Something with cyanide.'

I spied Terry Gilman across the room, and she wasn't modest at all. She was wearing a dress that was short and clingy, and shimmery gold. Leaving me to wonder where the gun was hidden. She turned and stared directly at Joe for a couple beats, then she blew him a kiss.

Joe acknowledged her with a noncommittal smile and a nod of his head. If it had been more I'd have stabbed him with one of the butter knives.

'What's Terry doing here?' I asked Joe.

'Cousin to the groom.'

A hush fell over the crowd. For a moment there was total silence, and then talking resumed, first with low murmurings and finally building to a roar.

'What was that silence all about?' I asked Joe.

'Grandma Bella's arrived. That was the sound of terror spreading through the room.'

I looked to the entrance and sure enough, there she was . . . Joe's grandma Bella. She was a small woman with white hair and piercing hawklike eyes. She dressed in black and looked like she belonged in Sicily, herding goats, making the lives of her daughters'-in-law a living misery. Some people believed Bella had special powers . . . some thought she was wacko. Even the nonbelievers were reluctant to incur her wrath.

Bella scanned the room and picked me out. 'You,' she said, pointing a bony finger at me. 'You, come here.'

'Oh, shit!' I whispered to Joe. 'Now what?'

'Just don't let her smell fear, and you'll be fine,' Joe said, guiding me through the crowd, his hand at the small of my back.

'I remember this one,' Bella said to Joe, referring to me. 'This is the one you sleep with now.'

'Well, actually . . .' I said.

Joe brushed a kiss across the nape of my neck. 'I'm trying.'

Вы читаете High Five
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