Chapter 6
Morelli and I spent our days going to meetings at the FBI office and pouring over the files of the murdered drug dealers, looking for clues we may have missed.
"Someone must know something," I pondered one day while looking through the files at the table in Morelli's kitchen. "Twenty-eight people don't get murdered without someone knowing something."
"Karen says it's a tight operation," Morelli said, eating his sandwich. "Her team has already read over each of these files, contacted everyone who knew the deceased, and searched through every apartment."
I rolled my eyes. I was really getting tired of hearing about Karen O'Reilly and her perfect task force and her perfect hair. Plus, I think I caught Morelli checking her out the other day during one of our meetings.
"Are you jealous?" He asked me.
"Who me?" I said.
"You are such a cupcake," Morelli said, kissing me on the head. "We'll have a lead once the phone records come back."
I stood up from the table and stretched out my legs. "I'm going to take Bob for a walk," I said. Bob was Morelli's shaggy golden retriever and he perked up his ears when he heard me say 'walk'.
"Let me get my shoes," Morelli said. "I'll go with you."
Ever since the shooting at Pino's, Morelli insisted on accompanying me everywhere I went. At the best of times it was moderately irritating and at the worst of times it was a real pain in the ass.
Morelli locked up the house while I clipped Bob onto his leash and we strode down the street with Morelli's arm around my shoulders. At the end of the street, I turned left just as he turned right.
"Ouch," I said. "You stepped on my foot."
"Sorry," Morelli said, "I'm just trying to guard your body. I'm not used to this."
In the past, whenever there was a threat on my life, it was Ranger who watched over me. But instead of staying suffocatingly-close to me like Morelli, he preferred a different approach. He would plant trackers on my car or purse, or have some of his Rangemen follow me, and I swear he hacked my phone too. It was stealthy and an invasion of my privacy, but came in handy when I needed rescuing.
Now without Ranger here, I only have Morelli, Tank's panic button, and my handgun.
We turned the next corner on our walk around the block and I got the feeling I was being followed. I stopped short.
"What is it?" Morelli asked me, wrapping his arms around me protectively.
"Someone's watching us," I said, looking around.
Morelli looked around too. "That's just Mrs. Pederson on her front porch. She watches everyone."
Morelli waved at Mrs. Pederson and we continued home.
I knew deep down that it wasn't Mrs. Pederson. There was someone else following me around, biding their time, waiting for a clear shot to end my life. Until then, my boyfriend was going to stick to me like glue. I needed to solve this case.
That night, we were invited over for dinner at my parent's house. We arrived at six o'clock on the dot and promptly made our way into the dining room. Grandma and her fiancé William were already at the table, along with my father, who was sitting at the head of the table, fork and knife in hand.
"How is it living in sin?" Grandma asked me once we had dished out our food and started eating.
"Mother!" my Mother scolded.
"It what all the kids are doing these days," Grandma continued. "You know, test drive the car before buying it. That's why William and I aren't waiting until after we're married to do it."
"Edna sure knows how to drive stick shift," William commented.
My father choked on his piece of steak. My mother took her glass of whiskey and knocked back the whole thing.
Morelli leaned into me and said, "What's been heard, cannot be un-heard."
The truth was, I was starting to get antsy living with Joe. I missed my apartment and living alone. Early the next morning I tripped over a pair of boxers that Morelli had left on the floor and stubbed my toe on the bed frame.
"Do you always have to leave your underwear on the floor?" I snapped at him.
"You're one to talk," he snapped back. "What about your mess on the bathroom counter? How much stuff do you need?"
"I'm a Jersey girl," my voice rising, "it's my God-given right to have cosmetics and hair products! And would it be too much to ask you to put down the toilet seat?"
"It's my house," he said, "my rules."
"If you want to marry me, it'll be my house too!"
"Geez," Morelli said, "I'm just saying clean up after yourself."
"You too."
On Friday, the results came in from the FBI tech guys and Karen presented the joint task force team with a list of contacts traced from the call log of the cocaine boss's cellphone.
"I've divided up the list into six pages," Karen addressed everyone at the conference table. "Each set of partners will take a page. I want to know who these people are, who they talk to, and how they spend their money and time."
Morelli and I took our page and headed back to his place.
We sat down at the kitchen table and plugged the ten names into the search engine on my laptop.
"This is going to take a while," I said.
"I can think of something to pass the time," Morelli answered, closing the gap between us.
Just as Morelli was getting frisky, a knock sounded on the door and Joe's brother Anthony and his three kids barged in.
"Joe," Anthony called, "you need to clean up the dog poo on your front lawn. Bobby stepped in it again."
"Again? Don't let him track it into the house," Morelli called back.
"What are they doing here?" I asked him. I backed out of his arms since the mood was effectively killed.
Morelli thought about it awhile. "The Mets must be playing tonight," he answered.
That meant Morelli's relatives and cop buddies stopped by to eat and drink and watch the game. It also meant Grandma Bella was going to be there with her lucky hat and casserole.
"Didn't you think to ask me?" I asked Morelli. After all, we were sharing his house, weren't we?
"I forgot," he said. "I can't help it if they show up."
Anthony's girl came up and started tugging on Joe's arm. "Uncle Joe," Angelina said, "where's our candy?"
Joe grabbed a bag of M&Ms out of the cupboard and tossed it into the living room.
"Fetch," he said. And all three kids rushed after the bag.
There was some screaming and Bob was barking. Bob rushed into the kitchen carrying the bag of M&Ms in his mouth, followed by the kids.
"Uncle Joe," little Anthony yelled, "Bob has our candy!"
"Don't let him eat it," Joe called. "Chocolate is bad for dogs." And he took off chasing Bob along with the kids.
The kitchen door opened and Morelli's sister and her two kids entered.
It was getting loud and I had to get out of the house before Grandma Bella arrived. Morelli himself was freakin' sexy and I enjoyed spending time with him, but his loud, blood sausage-eating, Italian family gave me hives. It was the perfect time to find my last skip, Isiah Malone. I went to the backyard to call Lula.
"Did you want to come with me to Stark Street to take down a skip who tried to rape me?" I asked her.
"Fuck yeah," she said. "We don't stand for that shit."
After a few hours of staking out Isiah girlfriend's apartment building, we finally saw Malone cross the street and enter the building.
"Let's roll," I said to Lula. We got out of the SUV, entered the building, and climbed the stairs.
On the fourth floor we heard shuffling and screaming coming from behind Isiah's door. Lula pulled a short barrel shotgun out of her oversized purse and adjusted the glasses on her face.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"This here's a SWAT gun loaded with lead shavings," she said. She aimed it at the door hinges and pulled the trigger. The hinge blew clean away. She pumped the gun and shot away the second hinge.
I put my boot to the door and kicked it open.
"Bond enforcement," I yelled.
"Freeze asshole!" Lula yelled.
Isiah's girlfriend was lying on the floor, her face swollen and bloody.
"You chicks never learn," Isiah said. And he rushed at me and tackled me to the ground.
We rolled around on the floor while Lula was digging in her purse for a handgun.
"Don't worry I got my glock in here somewhere," she said.
I got in a few good punches and kicks until Isiah pulled a knife and held it to my throat. He hauled me up to standing and used me as a shield between him and Lula, who was aiming her gun at him.
To say Lula wasn't the best shot was an understatement. The fact she was now pointing a gun at me made me nervous.
"One move and your friend is dead," Isiah said. He pushed the knife against my neck and the blade sliced my skin. I gasped and Lula pulled the trigger.
Isiah went down. I opened my eyes and found myself unharmed.
"Holy shit," Lula said, her eyes wide. "I got him in the knee."
I pulled out my cuffs and put them on Isiah with shaking hands. "How did you miss me?" I asked Lula.
"I must've needed glasses this whole time," she said.
Sirens wailed in the distance. Lula hid in the SUV while I gave my report to the police and the paramedics patched up my neck. Isiah was taken away by an ambulance accompanied by a police officer. I thanked Lula and dropped her off at her place.
When I got back to Morelli's house, I could feel the adrenaline still pumping from my encounter with Isiah. Joe was in the kitchen, standing with his hands on his hips.
"You went to Stark Street after dark to catch a rapist knowing that there's a hit out on you? Are you insane or just plain stupid?" He asked.
"I had backup," I loudly replied.
"And to top it all off, I didn't even know," he continued, his voice rising. "I had to find out from one of the guys at the station."
"I don't have to tell you everything."
"We're partners, we're supposed to be a team" Morelli yelled at me. He took the cocaine boss's contact list off the kitchen table and waved it at me. "You have to talk to me. Get used to it cupcake."
I grabbed the list out of his hand and tore it into two. I shoved half of the list into his hand.
"Our partnership is over," I spat out. "You take half and I'll take the other."
"That's just great," Morelli waved his hands in the air. "You can't go rogue. That's something I would expect from someone like Ranger, but not you."
"Excuse me?!" I yelled.
"Ranger was a loose cannon," Morelli yelled back. "He didn't give a shit about the law. I'm just glad that when he got killed he didn't take you down with him! He deserved to die!"
I saw red and punched Morelli square in the face. I hit him hard and I think I might have broken his nose. His hands went up to his face to stop the blood coming out of his nostrils.
"What the fuck?!" he yelled.
I was mad. And just for good measure, I kneed him in the balls. He crumpled to the floor into a fetal position. I shoved my laptop into my handbag, grabbed my keys and Rex and left.
I got into the Rangeman SUV and drove around for a while. Who the hell did Morelli think he was?
I drove around aimlessly for a while until I finally got my thoughts in order and headed back to my apartment. Dillon, my building manager, had called earlier in the day and told me that my apartment was ready for occupancy again.
It was after midnight by the time I walked into my apartment. I dropped my handbag, keys, and panic button at the door and walked into the living room. I kept the lights off to match my dark mood. I needed a movie and junk food.
Suddenly, a pair of arms grabbed me from behind. I steeled into action and everything Tank had taught me came flooding back into my mind. I flipped my assailant onto the floor and started kicking him. He got a hold of my leg and pulled me down on top of him. I tried to land a few punches, but his hands held my wrists. My knee was halfway to his groin when he spoke.
"Babe."
I froze. Only Ranger called me babe.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" He asked.
"Tank," I managed to say in my shocked state.
Ranger chuckled. "I should have known. He's the only one that can take me down."
"They told me you were dead," I said in a quiet voice.
"I almost was," he replied.
"I went to your funeral."
"I know."
"I cried for days," I continued. "And I punched Morelli in the face when he said you deserved to die."
"Babe."
"But you're alive."
"Yes."