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“I’m pretty sure you hit some cars,” Chuck said.
“I might put the eye on you if you don’t watch out,” Bella said.
“Have you been drinking?” he asked her. “Maybe a glass of wine with dinner?”
“Everyone has wine with dinner,” Bella said.
“I’d like you to step over to the squad car,” Chuck said.
“Good,” Bella said. “You can drive me home.”
This wasn’t going to end well, I thought. He wasn’t going todrive her home. He was going to test her alcohol level. And she was going to flunk the test.
I called Morelli. No answer. I left a message. “I have a situation here with your grandmother. She’s about to be arrested for driving without a license, driving under the influence, and destruction of private property. Call me when you get this message.”
I tried calling Morelli’s mom. No answer. There were now four cops arguing with Bella. I didn’t know any of them. They didn’t look angry. They looked like they were trying hard to calm Bella down and get her into a squad car. I walked over to see if I could help.
“What’s going on?” I asked Chuck.
“She blew a point eighteen. I don’t know how she’s still standing. And she’s talking crazy talk.”
“That’s normal,” I said.
“We need to bring her in for evaluation, but she’s not cooperating.”
“You!” Bella said, turning to me. “This all your fault. You give me bad car.” She stuck her arms out at Chuck. “Here. Put me in handcuffs, too. Put the sick old lady in handcuffs. See where that get you. Take me away to jail.”
Chuck looked at me.
“Been here, done this,” I said. “Don’t leave her alone in the car or she’ll drive off with it.”
I answered a few more questions for Chuck and waved goodbye to Bella. She looked at me from the backseat of the squad car and stuck her tongue out at me.
I loved Joe Morelli, but did I really want to marry into thisfamily? Honestly? Not that it was a current issue because Morelli wasn’t showing signs of desiring marriage. So as long as I didn’t get pregnant I figured it was all good.
I saw a Rangeman SUV and a black Porsche Cayenne arrive on the scene and park a short distance from the first-responder vehicles. Ranger got out of the Cayenne and walked over to me. He put an arm around me and kissed me on the top of my head.
“You smell like cooked Porsche,” he said. “I assume that’s my car smoldering, skewered on what used to be someone’s maple tree.”
I could feel myself choking up. It had really been an awful day. “Yep,” I said.
“I’m always amazed at how you never destroy my cars the same way twice. This one is especially clever the way it’s impaled on the tree.”
“I can’t take credit for it. I wasn’t driving.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No.”
“Ready to go home?”
“Yes.”
Frequently Ranger comes to my rescue. It doesn’t usually feel like a rescue, because I almost always know that I could rescue myself. Ranger knows this as well. It’s kind of like killing a spider. I could kill a spider if I had to, but I’m perfectly happy to have a big, strong, sexy guy do it for me. Especially if he gets off on killing the spider. And of course, I’d be happy to rescue Ranger if he everneeded rescuing. In this case giving me a ride home wasn’t much of a rescue. It was more of a chance to talk business.
He drove out of the Burg and paused at Hamilton Avenue. If he turned right, the road would take us to my house. If he turned left, it would lead to Rangeman. I wanted to go to Carpenter Beedle’s house on Maymount Street.
“I haven’t been able to question Beedle about the coin,” I said. “Lula and I covered all his known haunts, and we didn’t see him. Let’s drive past his house to see if his car is there.”
