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Grandma turned to my mom. “Isn't it nice to see such a polite young person? Almost no one appreciates things today.”
My mother tried to refill her wineglass, but the bottle was empty. “Darn,” my mother said.
“We cooked up two big chickens,” Grandma said to Joyce. “You could stay for dinner if you want. We have plenty.”
Joyce wedged a chair between Grandma and Elmer so she could look across the table at Ranger. “I wouldn't want to impose.”
“I'll get you a place setting,” Grandma said, scraping back in her chair.
“Eddie Haskell,” Ranger whispered against my ear, leaning in to me.
“What?”
“Joyce is doing Eddie Haskell from Leave It to Beaver. Eddie Haskell was the obnoxious kid who was always sucking up to the Cleavers.”
“You watched Leave It to Beaver?”
“Hard to believe, but I didn't start out at age thirty. I actually had a childhood.”
“Mind-boggling.”
“Sometimes it boggles even my mind,” Ranger said.
“What are you two whispering about?” Joyce asked. “And where's Morelli? I thought this was his gig.” “Joes working,” I told her. “Ranger volunteered to stand in.”
Joyce opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and forked up some chicken.
“I'm going to the kitchen to get some hot gravy,” I told everyone. “Joyce why don't you help me?”
I closed the kitchen door behind us, nuked the gravy boat, and turned to Joyce. “What s going on?”
“I realized I was going about this wrong. We're both looking for Dickie, right? But you have Studman out there working with you. That gives you a real advantage over me. So instead of forcing you to butt out, I'm going to stick to you like glue. You and Studman will find Dickie for me.”
“Ranger won't turn Dickie over to you.”
“I'll worry about that when he finds him. Ranger's a man, and I know what to do with a man. You get them undressed, and they're all basically the same. Scrotum and ego. If you stroke them, they're happy. And I don't see you doing much stroking with Ranger. Looks to me like he's open season.”
I took the gravy boat out of the microwave and carried it back to the table. Rangers chair was empty.
'Where's Ranger?" I asked Grandma.
“He said he had business to take care of, but he left you the keys to the car. They're by your plate. He said he'd catch up with you later.”
I put the keys in my pocket and wondered about Ranger's needs. It wasn't as if I was fulfilling them. And it wasn't as if he was a low-testosterone kind of guy. “That's some outfit you got on,” Elmer said to Joyce. “I bet you put out.”
Stephanie Plum 13 - Lean Mean Thirteen
“Behave yourself,” Joyce said.
“And you got a nice pair of melons there. Are they real?”
Joyce smacked Elmer on the head and his toupee flew off and landed on the table in front of my mother. She jumped in her seat and beat the toupee to death with the empty wine bottle.
“Omigod,” my mother said, looking at the mangled hair. “It startled me. I thought it was a giant spider.”
Elmer reached over, retrieved his hair, and settled it back onto his head. “This used to happen all the time at the home too.”
I made it through the chicken and the chocolate cake. I helped my mom clear the table and do the dishes, and that brought me up to seven-thirty.
