“Anyone can hire a rabbit and a bear to chop a guy up,” Morelli said. “We aren’t ruling anyone out yet.”
I picked at my croissant. Morelli had his cop face on, and it didn’t give much away. Still, I had a feeling there was more. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“There was a detail we’re not releasing to the press,” Morelli said.
“A gruesome detail?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me make a guess. Soder’s heart was ripped out.”
Morelli looked at me for a couple beats. “This guy is about as crazy as they come,” he finally said. “I’d like to protect you, but I don’t know how. I could chain you to my wrist. Or I could lock you up in a closet in my house. Or you could pack off for an extended vacation. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re going to agree to any of those things.”
Actually, I thought all of those options sounded kind of appealing. But Morelli was right, I couldn’t agree to any of them.
10
I TOOK ANOTHER sip of coffee and looked around the cafe. It had been nicely decorated with new black-and-white tile on the floor and round, wrought-iron soda fountain-style tables and chairs. Morelli and I were the only ones there. It took the Burg a while to warm up to new things.
“Thanks for being so nice to me last night,” I said to Morelli.
He slouched back in his seat. “Against my better judgment, I love you.”
I paused with the coffee cup midway to my mouth, and my heart did a flip-flop.
“Don’t get all excited,” Morelli said. “That doesn’t mean I want a relationship.”
“You could do worse,” I said.
“With who? Lizzy Borden?”
“
“I don’t find dead guys sitting on my couch.”
“Well, I don’t have a knife scar slicing through my eyebrow from a barroom brawl.”
“That happened years ago.”
“So? The dead guy was on my couch
Morelli pushed back from the table. “I have to get back to work. Try to stay out of trouble.”
And he was gone, off to fight crime. I, on the other hand, had no crime to fight. Bender was my only open case, and I was willing to pretend he didn’t exist. I was thinking about a second croissant when Les Sebring called on my cell phone.
“Could you stop by the office?” Sebring asked. “I’d like to talk to you.”
I cut across town and got another call just as I was cruising the street in front of Sebring’s office, looking for parking.
“He’s a nerd,” Valerie said. “You didn’t tell me he was a nerd.”
“Who?”
“Albert Kloughn. And what’s with the hovering? Sometimes I can actually feel him breathing down my neck.”
“He’s insecure. Try thinking of him as a pet.”
