Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(17)

“I remember when we used to spend hours having sex,” I said to Morelli. “What happened?”

“We got better at it,” Morelli said. “Now we can have sex and still have time to watch baseball.” Morelli wrapped his arm around me and cuddled me closer. “This is nice. It was good, right?”

“Yes.” Good was an understatement. It was spectacular.

“We should do this more often.”

“Like tomorrow?”

“Like in about forty-five minutes,” Morelli said.





CHAPTER SEVEN


I woke up smiling, enjoying the feel of a warm body in bed with me. It took a few moments for me to realize it was Bob and not Morelli.

“G’morning,” I said to Bob, and he thumped his tail in happiness.

Morelli sauntered in with a coffee cup in his hand. He hadn’t shaved in celebration of Saturday, and he looked dangerous and sexy. He was wearing jeans and a plaid flannel shirt that was untucked.

“I promised Anthony that I’d help him install a fence in his backyard this morning,” he said. “I should be done around noon, and I thought maybe we could do something together this afternoon.”

“Sounds good. I was planning on working but I’d be happy to cut it down to half a day. Call me when you’re done with the fence.”

Anthony is Morelli’s brother. He’s a fun guy with a big heart and a wandering dick. He has a pack of kids and a wife who keeps divorcing him and remarrying him. I like Anthony, but I wouldn’t want to be married to him.

Morelli and Bob were gone by the time I was showered and dressed. My kitchen is small and unintentionally retro with Formica countertops and inexpensive dated appliances. This is okay with me because I don’t actually cook. I defrost and reheat food from my mom, and I eat a lot of peanut butter. I haven’t got room for a table in the kitchen and my dining room table serves as my office, so most of the time I eat standing at the sink.

I was currently at the sink, enjoying my coffee and leftover chocolate cake, when I heard someone fumbling at my door. Seconds later Diesel walked in.

“You could knock,” I said. “It isn’t necessary to always jiggle my doorknob, or whatever it is that you do to unlock a door.”

He found a fork and tested the cake. “I like to stay sharp with my skills.”

“You just missed Morelli.”

“I passed him on the road. What are your plans for the day?”

“I have a low bond FTA that I’d like to clear off the books this morning and then I’m spending the afternoon with Morelli. What about you?”

“There’s a car show downtown that I thought I’d check out. It sounds like something Oswald would like.”

“When’s the car show?”

“From one o’clock to four o’clock.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said.

“What about Morelli?”

“I’ll catch up with him for dinner.”

Diesel grinned. “Can’t resist spending the afternoon with me?”

“You got it. It would be a missed opportunity.”

The missed opportunity would be capturing Oswald. Diesel was a good guy, but he had his own set of rules and code of conduct. His interests weren’t so much about justice as about protecting the interests of his employer. This was a problem because this was no longer about an FTA who was charged with breaking and entering and assaulting a police officer. The stakes were higher now. It was possible that Oswald killed Clark Stupin. If Diesel immediately whisked Oswald off to Who-Knows-Where, Oswald’s unexplained disappearance could leave Morelli with an open case and no closure for Stupin’s family. Not to mention, I would be cheated out of my capture fee.

“I’ll meet you at the bonds office at one o’clock,” Diesel said. “Are you going to finish this cake?”

I pushed the plate over to him. “I’m done. It’s all yours.”



* * *




Connie was unlocking the office door when I arrived. She had a bakery box in one hand and the keys in the other.

“Looks like the bakery is open,” I said.

“It’s open but there are no cannoli until the new refrigeration case arrives.” Connie crossed the room and set the bakery box on her desk. “I heard about Clark Stupin. My cousin Johnny was one of the EMTs that got called out. He said he saw you there.”

“Johnny Ragucci? I didn’t know he was your cousin.”

Connie opened the box and took a doughnut. “Almost everyone is my cousin.”

Lula shuffled in and went straight to the doughnuts. “Thank God,” she said. “I need a doughnut real bad. I’m trashed. I had the worst night. Melvin doesn’t sleep. Every now and then he naps and then he jumps up wide awake and goes on a rant. Sometimes he shouts ‘eureka!’ and then he rushes over to his computer. What the heck’s with that? And he talks all the time. He talks in his sleep. He mumbles when he’s working. He paces and talks to himself. I got a small apartment. It’s one room and a closet. It’s not like I could get away from him. I tried locking him in the bathroom, but I could still hear him talking and tapping on his computer keys. Click, click, click, click all night long. And then he cracks his fingers. He’s a nightmare. Look at me. I got bags under my eyes. It’s not attractive.”