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Lula was a car length ahead of us, en route back to the office.
'I feel like a movie star in this car,' Grandma said. 'It's like a big limousine. Not everybody can afford a car like this, you know. It must have belonged to somebody special.'
A gangster or a pimp, I thought.
'And it rides real smooth,' Grandma said.
I had to admit the ride was smooth. The car was about the same size as Sally's bus and took two lanes to make a corner, but the ride was smooth.
Lula and I parked in front of the bonds office, and we all got out to reorganize.
'Now what?' Lula said. 'Are we going after Harold Pancek?'
'Yeah,' Grandma said. 'Are we going after Harold Pancek?'
'Lula and I are going after Harold Pancek,' I said. 'I should take you home first.'
'No way! What if you need an old lady to quiet him down?'
My mother would cut me off from pineapple upside-down cake for the rest of my life if she knew I took Grandma on a bust. Then again, I'd just driven Grandma down Stark Street, so I was most likely screwed already.
'Okay,' I said. 'You can go with us, but you have to stay in the car.'
I felt obligated to say this but it was an empty demand because
Grandma never stayed in the car. Grandma was always the first out of the car. I was taking her along because I really didn't think we were going to find Pancek at home. Pancek had been here for a couple years but hadn't seemed to put down roots. According to
Connie's background search, Pancek's relatives and longtime friends were in Newark. I was guessing that after last night Pancek skipped back to Newark.
A gray late-model sedan drove by, hooked a U-turn in the middle of traffic, and parked behind the purple Lincoln. Morelli.
'Uh oh.' Lula said to me. 'You got that look.'
'What look is that?'
That oh shit look. That's not a look from a woman who got some last night.'
'It's complicated.'
'I've been hearing that a lot lately,' Lula said.
Morelli got out of the car and walked over, looking like a cop who'd just gotten rear-ended. The anger was tightly controlled, and the gait was deceptively relaxed.
Isn't this a nice coincidence,' Grandma said to Morelli. 'I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow nig
ht.'
Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow, nor shoe sale at Macys could get me out of Saturday dinner with my parents. Like a spawning salmon, I was expected to return to my birthplace. Unlike a salmon, I didn't die, although sometimes I wished I could, and the migration took place weekly.
'I need to talk to Stephanie,' Morelli said with his best effort at a pleasant smile, his hand at my neck, his fingers curled into the back of my shirt to discourage escape.
'Gee, we were right in the middle of something,' I said. 'Can it wait?'
'Afraid not,' Morelli said. 'We need to talk now.'
I followed him to his car, and we stood with our backs to Lula and Grandma to keep them from eavesdropping.
'Gotcha,' Morelli said.
