knife… undoubtedly wondering how much damage he could do. Good thing the carving knife was in the kitchen.
'It usually takes Kloughns years to get pregnant,' Albert said.
'Historically we have a low mobility. Our guys can't swim. That's what my father always said. He said, Albert, don't expect to be a father, because Kloughns can't swim. And look at this. My guys could swim! It's not like I was even trying. I just couldn't figure out how to get the thingy on. And then once I got it on, but I think it had a hole in it, because it seemed like it was leaking. Wouldn't it be something if that was the time? Wouldn't it be something if my guys could swim through the thingy? Like I had Superman guys!'
Poor Snuggy Uggums was motoring down the road to doom, gaining momentum, out of control with no idea how to stop.
'Do something,' I said to Joe. 'He's dying.'
Morelli was still wearing his gun. He took it off his hip and pointed it at Kloughn. 'Albert,' he said, very calmly. 'Shut up.'
Thank you,' Kloughn said. And then he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirttail.
'What about dessert?' my father wanted to know. 'Isn't anyone going to serve dessert?'
It was close to nine when Morelli and I staggered through the front door to his town house. Bob-the-Dog came galloping from the kitchen to greet us, attempted a sliding stop on Morelli's polished wood floor, and slammed into Morelli. This was Bob's usual opening act, and Morelli had been braced for the hit. Bob was a big goofy orange- haired beast who ate everything that wasn't nailed down and had more enthusiasm than brains. He shoved past us and bounced out the door, in a rush to tinkle on Morelli's minuscule front yard. This was always Bob's first choice of bathroom, and as a result the grass was scorched brown. Bob returned to the house, Morelli closed and locked the front door, and we stood there for a moment sucking in the silence.
This wasn't one of my better days,' I said to Morelli. 'My car was destroyed, I was involved in a shooting, and I just sat through the dinner from hell.'
Morelli slung an arm around me. 'Dinner wasn't that bad.'
'My sister talked cuddle umpkins to Kloughn for two hours, my mother and grandmother cried every time someone mentioned the wedding, Mary Alice whinnied nonstop, and the baby threw up on you.'
'Yeah, but aside from that-'
'Not to mention, Grandma got completely snookered and passed out at the table.'
'She was the smart one.' Morelli said.
'You were the hero.'
'I wouldn't actually have shot him,' Morelli said. 'Not to kill, anyway.'
'My family is a disaster!'
Morelli grinned. 'I've called you Cupcake for as long as I can remember, but I'm rethinking it after listening to the two hours of cuddle umpkins.'
'Just exactly what is a human-type cupcake?'
'It's like a cream puff but not as squishy. It's dessert. It's soft and sweet… and it's good to eat.'
The eating part gave me a rush that went straight to my doodah.
Morelli kissed me just below my earlobe and told me a few things about the right way to eat a cupcake. When he got to the part about licking the icing off the top, my nipples shrunk to the size and hardness of steel ball bearings.
'Boy, I'm really tired,' I said. 'Maybe we should be thinking about going to bed.'
'Good idea, Cupcake.'
I've been living with Morelli for several months now, and it's been surprisingly easy. We still like each other, and the magic hasn't gone out of the sex. Hard to imagine it ever would with Morelli. He's nice to my hamster, Rex. He doesn't expect me to make him breakfast. He's neat without being freaky about it. And he remembers to close the lid on the toilet… most of the time. What more can you ask from a man?
Morelli lives on a quiet street in a small, pleasant house he inherited from his Aunt Rose. The house mirrors my parents' house and every other house on Morelli's street. When I look out his bedroom window I see neatly parked cars and two-story redbrick attached town houses with clean windows. There are small trees and small shrubs in small yards. And behind the front doors are frequently large people. Food is good in Trenton.
The bedroom window in my apartment looks out at a blacktop parking lot. The apartment building was constructed in the seventies and is totally lacking in charm and amenities. My interior decorating style is one step away from college dorm. Decorating takes time and money. And I have neither.
So it's a mystery why I would miss my apartment, but the truth is, sometimes I felt homesick for the depressing mustard and olive-green bathroom, the hook in the entrance area where I hang my jacket, the cooking smells and television noise from the neighboring apartments.
It was nine in the morning and Morelli was off, ridding the city of bad guys, protecting the populace. I rinsed my coffee cup and set it in the dish drain. I tapped on Rex's cage and told him I'd be back. I hugged Bob and told him to be good and not eat any chairs.
After I hugged Bob I had to use the lint roller on my jeans. I was rollering my jeans when the doorbell bonged.
'Howdy,' Grandma Mazur said when I answered the door. I was out for a walk, and I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd stop by for a cup of coffee.'
'That's a long walk.'
'Your sister came over first thing with her laundry, and the house got real crowded.'
'I was just going out,' I told Grandma. 'I have some people to pick up this morning.'
'I could help! I could be your assistant. I'd be good at it. I can be real scary when I try.'
I grabbed my shoulder bag and denim jacket. 'I don't actually need anybody scary, but you can ride along if you want. My plan is to stop at the office to say hello. And then I'm going to get Sally so he can reschedule.'
Grandma followed me out the front door, to the curb. This sure is a pip of a car,' Grandma said, taking the Buick in. 'I feel like one of them old-time gangsters when I ride in this car.'
I feel poor when I ride in the car, since I'm the one buying the gas. No car in the history of the world guzzled gas better than the Buick.
Lula was at the door when I parked in front of the bonds office.
'Don't bother trying to get that boat docked just right,' she said.
'We got an emergency call. Remember the chip lady? Well, she's having some kind of a breakdown. Connie just got off the phone with the chip lady's sister, and Connie said we should go over there and see what's happening.'
Sometimes part of my job falls under the category of preventive care. If you know something's going wrong in a bondee's life it's best to check in with him from time to time rather than wait for him to flee.
'Hell-o,' Lula said, peeking in the car window. 'We got Grandma on board.'
'I'm helping Stephanie this morning,' Grandma said. 'What's a chip lady?'
'Its some woman held up a Frito-Lay truck,' Lula said. 'And then she ate the chips.'
'Good for her,' Grandma said. 'I've always wanted to do that.'
Lula climbed into the back seat. 'Me, too. You read those adult magazines and they're always talking about sex fantasies, but I say chip fantasies are where it's at.'
'I wouldn't mind combining them,' Grandma said. 'Suppose you had some good-looking naked man feeding you the chips.'
'No way,' Lula said. 'I don't want to be distracted by no man when I'm eating chips. I'd rather have dip. Just get out of my way when I see the chips and dip.'
'It's good you have priorities,' Grandma said.
'Know thyself,' Lula replied. 'Someone famous said that. I don't remember who.'
I took Hamilton to Klockner, passed the high school in Hamilton
Township, and turned into Cantell's neighborhood. A woman was standing on Cantell's front porch. She took a startled step back when she saw the three of us emerge from Big Blue.
'Guess she's never seen a '53 Buick before,' Grandma said.
'Yeah,' Lula said, hitching up her fuchsia and black animal print spandex pants. I'm sure that's it.'
I approached the porch and handed the woman my business card. 'Stephanie Plum.'
