“How many times have I told you not to hit people in the face. You kick them in the body where it doesn't show.”
“Almost everybody I know has died,” Grandma said. “Bunch of wimps.”
“I need mood music. I gotta get myself ready to kick butt."
Lula - High Five”
“I wasn’t a fabulous cook. I didn’t have a boyfriend, much less a husband. And I wasn’t a big financial success. I could live with all those failings as long as I knew that once in a while I looked really hot.”
“Fine. Let Ranger get someone else. Trust me, you don't want to be out looking for a parking place on Sloane in the middle of the night."
"I won't have to look for a parking place. Tank's picking me up."
"Your working with a guy name Tank?"
"He's big."
"Jesus", Morelli said. "I had to fall in love with a woman who works with a guy named Tank."
"You love me?"
"Of course I love you. I just don't want to marry you.”
“Last time you called me late at night you were naked and chained to your shower curtain rod. I hope this isn't going to be disappointing.”
“He squinted at me. "What are you wearing? Is that some new form of birth control?”
“You're not looking for a partner," Ranger said. "You're looking for an enforcer. You hate to run. You must be worried about getting into that black dress. What did you eat just now? Piece of cake? Candy bar?"
"Everything," I said. "I just ate everything.”
“Aren't you something," Grandma said. "I never saw a midget up close."
"Little person," Briggs said. "And I never saw anyone as old as you up close, either.”
“You gonna take the case?"
It's not a case. It's a missing person. Sort of."
You're gonna have a devil of a time finding him if it was aliens," Grandma said.”
“I stuck my tongue out at him because I was feeling exceptionally mature.”
“My father hired you to protect me," Ahmed said, "not to go off chasing men."
Grandma leaned forward, keeping her eye on the Taurus. "We think this guy killed Fred."
"Who's Fred?"
"My uncle," I told him. "He's married to Mabel."
"Ah so you're avenging a murder in the family. This is a good thing.”
“My mother came into the kitchen. "Whose car is that parked in front of our house?"
"That's Stephanie's new car," Grandma said. "Isn't it a pip?"
One of my mother's eyebrows raised in question. "Two new cars? Where are these cars coming from?"
"Company cars," I said.
"Oh?"
"Anal sex is not involved," I told her.
My mother and grandmother both gasped.
"Sorry," I said. "It just slipped out."
"I thought only homosexual men did anal sex," Grandma said.
"Anybody with an anus can do it," I told her.
"Hmm," she said. "I got one of them.”
“That's one of the things I like about Mary Lou. She's willing to believe the worst about anyone.”
“At the other end of the room, Grandma had the lid up on Larry Lipinski. She was standing one foot on a folding chair, one foot on the edge of the casket, and she was taking pictures with a disposable camera.”
“I don't think his elevator went all the way to the top anymore, if you know what I mean”
“The note wasn't signed, but I could tell it was from Morelli by the way my nipples got hard.”
“He smiled when he saw me . . . and it was the nice smile that included his eyes.”
“Ranger shrugged. “Things turn up.” He reached behind him and came up with a gun. My gun. “Found this in the lobby, too.” He tucked the gun under the top edge of my towel, wedging it between my breasts, his knuckles brushing against me. My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment I thought my towel might catch fire. Ranger smiled again. And I did more eye narrowing. “I’ll be in touch,” Ranger said. And then he was gone.”
“And Grandma spooned in some beans. “We need one of them psychics,” Grandma said. “I saw on television where you can call them up, and they know everything. They find dead people all the time. I saw a couple of them on a talk show, and they were saying how they help the police with these serial murder cases. I was watching that show, and I was thinking that if I was a serial murderer I’d chop the bodies up in little pieces so those psychics wouldn’t have such an easy job of it. Or maybe I’d drain all the blood out of the body and collect it in a big bucket. Then I’d bury a chicken, and I’d take the victim’s blood and make a trail to the chicken. Then the psychic wouldn’t know what to make of it when the police dug up a chicken.” Grandma helped herself to the gravy boat and poured gravy over her pot roast. “Do you think that’d work?” Everyone but Grandma paused with forks in midair.”
“Here’s something else to worry about,” he said. And he kissed me—his hand at the nape of my neck and his mouth on mine, soft at first, then serious and demanding. He drew me closer and kissed me again and desire washed over me, hot and liquid and scary.
“Oh boy,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he said. “Think about it.”
“What I think ... is that it’s a bad idea.”
“Of course it’s a bad idea,” Ranger said. “If it was a good idea I’d have been in your bed a long time ago.”
“Okay so I fibbed a little about the kids. I didn't want her to feel bad. I mean we can't all be lucky enough to have a hamster.”
“My fear was that I’d oversleep, and when Ranger broke into my apartment to wake me up, I’d drag him into bed with me. And then what would I tell Joe?”
“What's he doing?" Mary Lou asked. "What's he doing?"
"Getting a spoon. I was was right-he went out to buy ice cream."
The light blinked out, and Morelli disappeared. Mary Lou and I scuttled across Morelli's backyard and squinted into his window.
"Do you see him?" Mary Lou asked.
"No. He's disappeared."
"I didn't hear the front door open."
"No, and he's got the television on. He's just out of sight somewhere."
Mary Lou crept closer. "Too bad he's got the shades pulled on his front windows."
"I'll try to be more considerate next time," Morelli said, standing inches behind us.
Mary Lou and I yelped and instinctively sprang away, but Morelli had both of us by the back of our jackets.”
“You in a hurry?” Ranger said, looking amused.
“Things to do.” I moved to get out of the car, and he grabbed me by the scruff of my neck.
“You’re going to be careful,” he said.
"Y-y-yes.”
“And you’re going to carry your gun.”
“Yes.”
“Loaded.”
“Okay, loaded.”
He released my neck. “Sweet dreams.”
“Will you look at this," Grandma said. "Closed casket. Isn't this a fine howdy-do. I get dressed up and come out to pay my respects, and I don't even get to see anything."
Martha Deeter was shot and autopsied. They'd taken her brain out to get weighed. After she was put back together she probably looked like Frankenstein. I was personally relieved to see a closed casket.”
“Ranger leaned closer and lowered his voice.”
“I’d call Ranger and see if he wanted to run with me. Then he’d be over here first thing tomorrow and make me go out and get some exercise. “Yo,” Ranger said, answering the phone. His voice was husky, and I realized it was late and I’d probably awakened him. “It’s Stephanie. I’m sorry to be calling so late.” He took a slow breath. “No problem. Last time you called me late at night you were naked and chained to your shower curtain rod. I hope this isn’t going to be disappointing.”
“...Rule three, never underestimate nosy neighbors. Mrs. Rupp called and wanted to know why you were standing in the alley, looking into her windows, and she was wondering if she should call the police. I explained it was most likely *my* windows you were looking in and reminded her that *I* was the police, so she needn't bother with another phone call.”
“A light rain had started to fall. He pulled my jacket hood up and tucked my hair in. His finger traced a line at my temple, our eyes met, and for a terrifying moment I thought he might kiss me. The moment passed, and Ranger pulled back.”
“...I thought, breaking into a sweat, I'd better call Saul. I owe Kate an apology... Damn damn damn.”
“This is going to happen."
"What?" I ask, my eyebrows drawn together in confusion. His finger comes up and skims down the center of my face, forehead to chin.
"You and I, , we're going to happen.”
“only the dead could afford oblivion.”
“What’s the difference between poo and poop anyway?”
“Poo is what goes in the toilet; poop is what you find on your front lawn.”
“So is poo determined purely by its maker, or does it refer to its semiaquatic state?”
“Uh . . . all I got is poo. You’ll have to ask Felix about the details.”
“He is the poomeister.”
“Is he?”
“Naw, I just liked the way it sounded.”
“Oh dear," said Sarah anxiously, "I do wish he wouldn't do these silly things."
I'm sure we all wish that, Sarah," said Marcia sternly. "But unfortunately he has progressed rather further than the silly stage. Evil-minded-scheming stage is more what I would call it.”
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