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“The windows are cracked and the temperature is okay,” Morelli said. “He’s comfortable.”
“You should bring him in,” Grandma said. “I’d like to see him. He would make it a party. I could give him a bowl of water.”
My dad didn’t say anything. He was shoveling in mashed potatoes and gravy. My mom raised her glass and smiled. “To Bob,” she said.
“It’s okay with me,” I said.
Morelli left the table and came back with Bob. Bob was beside himself, doing his happy dance. Bob was a people dog. Bob made his way around the table, sniffing everyone. He got to my dad, gave him a sniff, and snatched two slabs of rump roast off his plate.
“Hey!” my dad said to Bob. “That’s rude. What the hell!” He looked over at Morelli. “Don’t you feed this dog?”
My mom and Grandma were laughing, and I was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Morelli looked conflicted between thinking Bob was cute and being completely mortified.
“Sorry,” he said to my dad. “I should have kept him on the leash. Bad, Bob!” Morelli said to Bob.
Bob came over and settled down between Morelli and me.
“Well, don’t everyone just sit there like a bunch of dopes,” my father said. “Someone pass me the meat.”
My mom brought the chocolate cake to the table and Morelli’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the number and stood. “I have to take this,” he said, moving into the living room. He returned a couple minutes later and sat down. “I need to go to work but I’m not leaving until I have cake.”
“Is it someone dead?” Grandma asked.
“I’ll know when I get there,” Morelli said.
He finished his cake and left. I stayed to have a second piece. Bob didn’t get any because dogs shouldn’t eat chocolate.
I helped clear the table and put the food away, and Bob positioned himself in the kitchen. Grandma hand-fed him chunks of rump roast and gave him a bowl of vanilla ice cream since he couldn’t have cake.
It had stopped raining, so I clipped the leash on Bob, and Grandma and I took him for a walk. The Rangeman SUV crept along behind us.
“I feel like a movie star,” Grandma said. “They have bodyguards following them everywhere just like this.”
I felt like an idiot. I felt conspicuous. When the walk was done, I collected my bag of leftovers, including half the chocolate cake, loaded Bob into the Discovery, and went home to my apartment. I texted Morelli that Bob and the cake were with me. Morelli texted back that he was going to be late. Save him some cake.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ifell asleep on the couch and woke up at midnight. I shuffled off to my bedroom and crawled under the covers. When I woke up in the morning, Bob was sprawled next to me, and Morelli was on the edge of the bed next to Bob.
I got up and took a shower. I got dressed and went to the kitchen for coffee. Morelli came in a couple minutes later.
“I smell coffee,” he said. “How long have you been up?”
“Not long,” I said. “When did you get home last night?”
“Around three o’clock. Bob was in my spot in the bed and wouldn’t give it up.” Morelli got a mug and filled it with coffee. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Chocolate cake.”
“That works for me.”
We stood in the kitchen eating cake and drinking coffee.
“I have to go back to work this morning,” Morelli said. “I need to follow up on a couple things from last night, and then I’m taking my rotation at babysitting Bella.”
“Must have been a riot last night.”
