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“Probably made in China,” Grandma said.

My mother cut the cake and passed pieces around.

“All that technology is a bunch of crap,” my father said. “You can’t beat a baseball bat.”

“Or an iron,” Grandma said.

Just because I’d had three glasses of wine didn’t mean that I was stupid. I didn’t like that the medallions weren’t working.

“What did Ranger say about the medallions?” I asked Morelli.

“I didn’t talk to Ranger.”

I was on my second piece of cake when Ranger came in. He sat in the chair next to Grandma and unhooked her necklace. He pressed it and spoke to his control room through an earbud. He dropped the necklace into his shirt pocket.

“It’s not working,” he said.

“Would you like a piece of cake?” my mother asked. “Coffee? Wine?”

“No. I need to get back to work. I’m going to leave a Rangeman car with you for tonight.” He stood and looked at me. “I’d like to talk to you for a moment, outside.”

I followed him out to the porch and punched him in the arm. “You wanted that piece of cake, didn’t you?”

He grinned at me. “How much wine have you had tonight?”

“Thwee.”

I attempted to lean against the porch railing, misjudged the distance, and went over the railing into a hydrangea bush. Ranger picked me out of the bush and set me on my feet.

“We can talk tomorrow,” he said.

I smiled at him. “Okeydokey. Do you want to kiss me?”

“Not here,” he said. “I don’t want to risk a shootout with Morelli.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

IT WAS MORNING. I was in Morelli’s bed, and I was loving the luxury of sleeping late. Morelli came in with coffee and my laundry basket. He was dressed in sweats and a T-shirt.

“I told the guys I’d play ball with them this morning,” he said. “Bob’s been walked and fed. And your mom dropped your laundry basket off on her way to church.” He handed me the coffee, kissed me on the top of my head, and left.

I sat up in bed and drank my coffee, thinking this was nice. This was the way life should be. Drinking coffee in bed on a Saturday morning. I finished my coffee, took a shower, and went downstairs. I allowed myself the extra treat of toasting my frozen waffle, had a second cup of coffee, and was ready to start my day. I also had an epiphany. Maybe the reason I didn’t have a work-related passion was that I actually didn’t want to work at all. I had a passion for doing nothing. Now that I realized this, I just had to find a way to get paid for it.

I drove past my parents’ house on my way to the office. The Rangeman SUV was parked at the curb, and I didn’t see any crazy old Italian men skulking around. It was all good.

Lula and Connie were listening to police chatter when I walked in.

“Richie is on another roof,” Connie said. “They’re trying to get him in the bucket, but he says he’s waiting for his dragon to return.”

“I’ll say it again,” Lula said. “That boy needs a more reliable dragon.”

Connie and I looked at Lula.

“You don’t really think he has a flying dragon, do you?” Connie asked Lula.

Lula leaned forward and cocked her head, eyebrows up. “Have you got a better explanation?”

“No,” Connie said.

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