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“Okay, second question. Why doesn’t someone walk into his apartment and shoot the alligator and take the drugs and the money?”
Morelli stopped eating and looked at me. “You aren’t thinking of doing that, are you?”
“Of course not. It was a hypothetical question. Honestly, do you really think I’d shoot an alligator?”
“No,” Morelli said. “But Lula might.”
“Lula couldn’t hit an alligator if it was three feet from her and already dead. I shoot with my eyes closed, and I’m a better shot than Lula.”
Morelli’s phone buzzed and he looked at the readout. “I have to go,” he said.
“Something bad happen?”
“I’m a homicide detective. If they’re paging me, it’s never good.” He stood and dropped a couple twenties on the table. “That should cover it,” he said. “Call me if you get lonely.”
“What kind of an invitation is that?” I asked.
“I was going for friendly without being pushy.”
I shoved back from the table and stood with him. “You succeeded.”
EIGHT
I STOPPED HOME to change my shirt, and at the last moment, I decided to take my bottle. I mean, it couldn’t hurt to carry it around, right? I left my apartment, and I drove past the bonds office toward the arena. I cruised the area around the arena, looking for Chopper’s Lexus, checking out the fast-food places Morelli’s source had listed. I hung there until two o’clock without seeing a single black Lexus SUV. I took Broad to Cotter and drove the alley behind Chopper’s loft. The black SUV was parked in Chopper’s small backyard. Chopper was at home with Mr. Jingles.
I returned to Broad, and I was almost at Hamilton when Chet called.
“Gritch left the 7-Eleven and drove across the river. I have him at an isolated house a half mile off Lower Buck’s Road. He’s been there for ten minutes now. I’m programming it into your nav system.”
“Thanks. I’ll check it out.”
“Do you need back up?”
“Do I have a choice?”
There was a long pause. “No,” Chet finally said.
It used to bother me that Ranger monitored my every move, but I’ve gotten used to it, and for the most part, I’m able to ignore it. Truth is, I’m not all that good at being a bounty hunter, and Ranger’s over protectiveness has saved my life more than once.
I stopped at the bonds office to get Lula, and I ran into Walter Moon Man Dunphy coming out of the used-book store next to the bonds office. Mooner is my age, but he lives on an entirely different planet. He’s slim, with light brown shoulder-length hair, parted in the middle. He was wearing a vintage Metallica T-shirt, jeans with holes in the knees, and black-and-white Chucks.
“Dudette,” Mooner said to me. “Long time no see. How’s life?”
“It’s good,” I told him. “What’s new with you?”
“I got a new casa. It’s el loco mobile casa.”
It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the rusted-out motor home at curbside.
“You’re living in this RV?”
“Affirmative. Totally cool, right? And the feng shui is excellent. Like, if I’m getting bad vibes, I just park this sweetheart in a different direction. And I have a dish, so I didn’t have to give up my position on the Cosmic Alliance.”
I had no clue what he meant by the Cosmic Alliance, and I didn’t want to take the time to ask.
“That’s great,” I said. “I have to go to work now.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
