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“My brain says yes. My gut says no.”
“Not to say anything disparaging about your brain, but I’d go with your gut.”
“Bob is standing in the kitchen looking hungry. How often do you feed him?”
“Twice a day and he gets a treat at bedtime.”
“That’s all?”
“How often have you been feeding him?” Morelli asked.
“It varies. I guess he eats when I eat.”
“Including the doughnuts?”
“Yeah. And then sometimes he eats other people’s food if they aren’t careful.”
“He’s lactose intolerant. Don’t let him eat cheese.”
“Does that include when it’s on pizza?”
“Oh man, did you feed him pizza?”
“We were staking out the Manley house and I didn’t have dog food with me.”
“He’ll be okay, but make sure you get him outside fast when he goes to the door.”
I was outside with Bob when I saw Ranger’s 911 roll into my building’s parking lot. It was the third time in an hour that I’d had to take Bob out and we were now sitting on the curb.
Ranger parked a few feet away and walked over to me. “Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.
“I didn’t know Bob was lactose intolerant and I fed him cheese. We’re waiting to see if he’s empty.”
“I’m on my way to a break-in and robbery in Hamilton Township, and I saw your Cherokee getting loaded onto Sanchez’s flatbed. What happened?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“No,” Ranger said. “I see the Buick parked here. Do you want a loaner?”
“Yes. I can’t sneak around in the Buick.”
“I’ll have something dropped off.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I dragged myself out of bed and shuffled off to the bathroom. The sun was shining, and the day had started without me. I took a fast shower with the hopes of waking up. I got dressed in my usual uniform of T-shirt and jeans. I went to the bed and looked down at Bob. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t moving. It had been a long night for both of us. It had been after midnight when Bob made his final trek down to the parking lot.
“Time to get up,” I said. “We have things to do. You should have breakfast. You’ll feel better.”
Bob plodded after me, into the kitchen.
“Do you have to go out first?” I asked him.
Bob looked at the door and then he looked at me. He didn’t move.
“Okay then,” I said. “I’m going to take that as a no.”
I filled Bob’s bowl with dog kibble, and I stared into the refrigerator for a couple beats. Nothing jumped out at me, so I settled on a frozen waffle with peanut butter. When in doubt, there’s always peanut butter.
