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Shempsky hadn't told me that part. “Why didn't Shempsky just replace the money?”
“He'd spent it on venture investments that didn't pay off. I think it was just something that got away from him, and it got worse and worse, until it was so bad it was out of control. There were a couple banking irregularities, too. Shempsky knew it was dirty money.”
I felt hot breath on my neck. Morelli looked at the person doing the breathing and gave a grunt of disgust.
It was Bunchy. “Nice collar, Cutie Pie,” he said.
His hair was cut and clean and his face was freshly shaved. He was wearing a button-?down shirt, crewneck sweater, and tan slacks. If it wasn't for the eyebrows I might not have recognized him.
“What are you doing here?” I said. “I thought the case was over. Don't you go back to Washington now?”
“Not all of Treasury works in Washington. I happen to be a Jersey Treasury guy.” He looked around the room. “I thought Lula might be here since you two are such good friends.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Lula?”
“Yeah. Well, you know, she looked like she might be fun.”
“Listen, just because she used to be a hooker—”
He raised his hands. “Hey, it isn't like that. I just like her, that's all. I think she's okay.”
“So call her.”
“You think I could? I mean, would she hang up on me because of that tire thing?”
I dug a pen out of my bag and wrote Lula's number on the back of Bunchy's hand. “Take your chances.”
“How about me,” Morelli said when Bunchy left. “Do I get a number on the back of my hand?”
“You have enough numbers to last you a lifetime.”
“You owe me,” Morelli said.
A thrill skittered through my stomach. “Yes, but I didn't say when I'd pay off.”
“The ball's in your court,” Morelli said.
I'd heard that before!
Grandma was waving to me from the other end of the room. “Yoo-?hoo,” she called, “come here a minute.”
“I have to go,” I said to Morelli.
He took the pen from my bag and wrote his number on the back of my hand. “Ciao,” he said. And then he left.
“The viewing is almost over,” Grandma said. “We're all going over to Mabel's house to see her new bedroom set and have some coffee cake. Do you want to come with us?”
“Thanks, but I think I'll pass. I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you for everything,” Mabel said to me. “I like this new garbage company you got me much better.”
I PARKED THE Buick and took a moment to enjoy the night. The air was crisp and the sky was starless and black. Lights were on in my building. The seniors were watching TV. The bombers and rapists were gone, and this little part of Trenton felt safe again. I walked into the building and went to the bank of mailboxes to collect my mail. A credit card bill, a dental reminder, and an envelope from RangeMan. The RangeMan envelope contained a check for the chauffeuring job. A note was included with the check. It was hand-?written from Ranger. “Glad the Lincoln survived, but locking it in a garage is cheating.” I remembered his kiss, and I got another one of those skittery thrills.
I ran up the stairs, let myself into my apartment, locked the door behind me, and took stock. My apartment was nice and neat. I'd spent the weekend cleaning. No dishes on the counter. No socks on the floor. Rex had a clean cage, and the pine shavings smelled foresty. It all felt welcoming. And safe. And private. And intimate.
“I should invite someone over,” I said to Rex. “After all, the apartment's all cleaned. I mean, how often does that happen, right? And my legs are shaved. And I have this great dress that I've never worn.”
Rex gave me a look that told me in no uncertain terms he knew exactly what I was after.
