'Any brothers?'
'One.'
'And you have a daughter,' I said.
Ranger swung the truck onto the paved road. 'Not many people know about my
daughter.'
'Understood. Do I get to ask more questions?'
'One.'
'How old are you?'
'I'm two months older than you,' Ranger said.
'You know my birthday?'
'I know lots of things about you. And that was two questions.'
It was five o'clock when we pulled into the garage.
'How's Morelli doing?' Ranger asked.
'Good. He's going back to work tomorrow. The cast won't come off for a while, so he's limited. He's on crutches, and he can't drive, and he can't walk Bob. I'm going to stay until he's more self-sufficient. Then I'll go back to my apartment.'
Ranger walked me to the bike. 'I don't want you going back to your apartment until we get this guy.'
'You don't have to worry about me,' I said. 'I've got a gun.'
'Would you feel comfortable using it?'
'No, but I could hit someone over the head with it.'
The bike was a black Ducati Monster. I'd driven Morelli's Due, so I was on familiar ground. I took the black full- face helmet off the grip and handed it to Ranger. I took the key out of my pocket, and I swung my leg over the bike.
Ranger was watching me, smiling. 'I like the way you straddle that,' he said. 'Someday . . .'
I revved the engine and cut off the rest of the sentence. I didn't have to read his lips to know where he was going. I put the helmet on, Ranger remoted the gate open for me, and I wheeled out of the garage.
It felt great to be on the bike. The air was cool, and traffic was light. It was just a few minutes short of rush hour. I took it slow, getting the feel of the machine. I cut to the alley and brought the bike in through Morellis backyard. Morelli had an empty tool shed next to his house. The shed was locked with a combination lock, and I knew the combination. I spun the dial, opened the shed, and locked the bike away.
Morelli was waiting for me in the kitchen. 'Let me guess,' Morelli said. 'He
gave you a bike. A Due.'
'Yeah. It was terrific riding over here.' I went to the fridge and studied the inside. Not a lot there. 'I'll take Bob out, and you can dial supper,' I said.
'What do you want?'
'Anything without sugar.'
'You're still on the no-sugar thing?'
'Yeah. I hope you took a nap this afternoon.'
Morelli poked me with his crutch. 'Where are your clothes? You weren't wearing this when you left this morning.'
'I left them at work. I didn't have a way to carry them on the bike. I could use a backpack.' I still had the wind breaker zipped over the shirt. I thought it was best to delay the short-shirt confrontation until after we'd eaten. I clipped Bob to his leash and took off. I got back just as the Pino's delivery kid was leaving.
'I ordered roast beef subs,' Morelli said. 'Hope that's okay.'
I took a sub and unwrapped it and gave it to Bob. I handed a sub to Morelli, and I unwrapped the third for myself. We were in the living room, on the couch, as always. We ate, and we watched the news.
'The news is always the same,' I said. 'Death, destruction, blah, blah, blah. There should be a news station that only does happy news.'
I collected the wrappers when we were done eating and carted them off to the kitchen. Morelli followed after me on his crutches.
'Take your jacket off,' Morelli said. 'I want to see the rest of the uniform.'
'Later.'
'Now.'
'I was thinking I might go back to work just for a couple hours. I started a search and didn't get to finish it.'
Morelli had me backed into a corner. 'I don't think so. I have plans for tonight. Let's see the shirt.'
'I don't want to hear any yelling.'
