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“Ditto,” Lula said. “Me and Thor are going home, too. I promised him we could watchAquaman.”
I was soaked by the time I got back to Hamilton Avenue. I didn’t want to ruin the seats on Ranger’s Discovery, so I hitched a ride with the Rangemen. They dropped me at the back door to my building. I ran inside and dripped all the way to my apartment.
I kicked my shoes off in the kitchen and my phone buzzed. It was a text and a photo forwarded from Connie.This is just the beginning, the text said. The photo was a bloody hand missing two fingernails. I went light-headed and threw up in the sink. Thank heaven for garbage disposals.
I felt better after a shower. There was still anxiety about Vinnie but at least my stomach wasn’t churning. I got dressed in a soft blue V-neck sweater and my nicest jeans. I dried my hair, swiped some mascara on my lashes, and applied lip gloss. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. “It’s important to give the illusion of normalcy,” I said to reflected Stephanie. “That’s how you keep going when things are tragic.” I had two black eyes and I was finding it hard to smile. I couldn’t do anything about the eyes, but I could make more of an effort at smiling. If I allowed the horror of Vinnie’s nails to overwhelm me, I would be useless at tracking down the kidnappers.
I grabbed my messenger bag and a sweatshirt, went downstairs, and crossed the small lobby to the back door. The Rangeman SUV drove up to the building when I stepped out. I asked to be taken back to the Discovery and fifteen minutes later I was in my carand on my way to my parents’ house. The rain had cut down to a misty drizzle. Hopefully the bus was drying out. I arrived ahead of Morelli. I said hello to my dad but I’m not sure he heard me. He was in front of the TV, slumped in his chair, eyes closed. The dining room table was set and the smell of burned rump roast was overwhelming. That was my mom’s secret. Cremate the rump to get super-dark gravy. Some people might have thought the gravy tasted a tad burned, but we were Plums and we liked it that way.
“Can I help?” I asked.
“Drain the potatoes,” my mom said. “I’m ready to mash them.”
I took the huge pot to the sink, poured the potatoes and boiling water into the colander, and returned the potatoes to the pot. When I stepped back my face was bathed in steam and my hair had frizzed. My mom took over adding milk and butter. Lots of butter.
I heard Morelli at the door and went to greet him. He gave me a quick kiss and stepped back to take a look at me.
“Steam bath?”
“Potatoes,” I said.
The six o’clock news came on and my dad woke up and stood. “Where’s dinner?”
“It’s on the table,” my mother said, setting the carved pot roast in front of his seat.
Grandma brought the potatoes and gravy. The vegetables and wine followed. Dinner was a perfectly orchestrated event that had occurred every night for as long as I could remember. Grandma was a relatively new addition, and my sister, Valerie, had her own family meals now in her own house, but the basic ritual here was still the same. It was both comforting and disturbing.
“What did you do today?” Grandma asked Morelli. “Did you arrest a killer?”
“No,” Morelli said. “I almost never arrest killers. In this town they’re usually killed by other killers before I get to them.”
“The circle of life,” Grandma said.
Everyone thought about that for a moment. The moment was broken by my dad yelling for gravy.
“Jeez Louise,” he said. “Pass the gravy. My meat’s getting cold.”
Morelli poured a glass of wine for himself and one for me. I took a sip and put it back on the table. Best not to guzzle wine two days in a row.
“How about an autopsy?” Grandma asked. “Have you seen any of them lately? I’d like to see an autopsy. Especially the part where they weigh the brain. It’s a shame you have to be dead before you can find out how much your brain weighs.”
My mom chugged half her Big Gulp of iced tea, which we all knew to be whiskey. I couldn’t blame her.
“How’s your knitting going?” I asked my mom.
“I started a new skein today,” she said. “Purple.”
“I bet it’s pretty.”
“It’s not as vibrant as I hoped it would be,” she said. “It knits out to be more lavender.”
I didn’t know where to go from here. I’d just made my best stab at polite conversation, and now I had nothing. It was easier eating with Rex. I ate over the sink, and he didn’t expect a lot from me.
“How’s Bob?” Grandma asked Morelli.
“He’s good,” Morelli said. “He’s out in the car. I thoughtStephanie and I could take him for a walk after dinner if it stops raining.”
“Are you sure he’s okay in the car?” Grandma asked. “I thought you weren’t supposed to leave kids and dogs in the car.”
