Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(23)

We waited for Melvin to gather his things and we returned to Morelli’s car. The fire truck had already rumbled away and the EMTs were getting ready to leave.

“I have Andy’s Hemingway library in my backpack,” Melvin said. “I figure the parks department will come in and clean out his campsite. I didn’t want him to lose his books.”

“I’ll make sure he gets them,” I said.

We put Melvin in the backseat with Bob, and we left the park.

“Are you getting any closer to tapping into Oswald’s network?” I asked Melvin.

“I’m making progress but it’s slow.”

“Have you been able to contact the other five hackers in Baked Potatoes?”

“No. I haven’t been able to get past the block. I’ve been looking on IRCs we originally met on, too.”

“I don’t suppose we could just take you home to your parents’ house,” Morelli said to Melvin.

“They sort of kicked me out,” Melvin said. “And they converted my room into a home gym.”

“Sisters or brothers or cousins?” Morelli asked.

“None in the area,” Melvin said. “We’re a small dysfunctional family.”

Morelli parked in my building’s lot, walked Bob around a little so he could lift his leg, and we all trooped up to my apartment.

“Have you had anything to eat today besides cookies?” I asked Melvin.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Not that I can remember.”

“We have leftover Chinese, Froot Loops cereal, and peanut butter. Does any of that interest you?”

“The peanut butter.”

“Good choice,” I said. “You can’t go wrong with peanut butter.”

I put the bread, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of strawberry jam, pickles, olives, and potato chips on the kitchen counter. I looked for Melvin and found him at my dining room table, setting up his computer. No problem, I thought. I can’t cook but I’m a master at making peanut butter sandwiches. I made peanut butter and jelly, peanut butter and olives, peanut butter and pickles and potato chips, and peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I set them next to Melvin with a can of soda and left him to eat and work. Morelli, Bob, and I settled on the couch and found a ball game to watch.

At ten o’clock the sandwiches were all eaten, and Melvin was pacing and mumbling. The ball game was over, Bob had gone out for his last leg lift of the night, and Morelli handed me the slim strip of paper from his fortune cookie that told him he was going to get lucky. I put an extra blanket and pillow on the couch for Melvin, but I suspected it wouldn’t get used.

“Melvin,” Morelli yelled from the bedroom door, “we’re going to bed.”

“Okay,” Melvin said.

“If you come into the bedroom, I’ll shoot you.”

“Okay,” Melvin mumbled back.

I crawled into bed wearing panties and a T-shirt.

“I was hoping you’d be looking a little sexier than this,” Morelli said “What did you have in mind?”

“Nakedness, but it’s not a problem. I can work with the T-shirt.” He slipped in next to me and ran his hand over the shirt.

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” I said. “It’s uncomfortable.”

“Is it that time of the month?”

“No! Melvin is in the next room.”

“I can lock him out. He can wait in the hall.”

“He would know we were doing it.”

“And?”

“It’s awkward,” I said. “It’s like doing it with people watching.”

“And?”

“Wouldn’t that bother you?”

“It would depend on the people. If they were a couple hot women…”

“Omigod!”

Morelli grinned. “We could be quiet. He would never know.”

“Yes, but I know!”

“You do realize that for eons people have performed this activity with other people in close proximity. Sometimes those other people were in their very own family.”

“Melvin isn’t family. He’s Melvin.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Morelli said, “but it’s bad juju to screw with a fortune cookie.”





CHAPTER TEN


I woke up to rain on Sunday morning. “Do you think it’s the fortune cookie telling us something?” I asked Morelli.

“It’s not too late to set things right,” he said. “I’m ready to do whatever it takes.”

Morelli was always ready. He had testosterone oozing out of his pores.

I sat up in bed. “I hear Melvin. He’s stomping around in the living room.” I got out of bed, pulled on jeans, and went to see what Melvin was doing.

“My leg fell asleep,” he said. “I was sitting on it, and I fell asleep, and when I woke up my leg was dead.” He stomped from one side of the room to the other. “It’s feeling better. It’s pins and needles now. That’s a good sign.”

Morelli ambled out of the bedroom. “I’m going to let Bob check out some tires in the parking lot and then we’re heading home.” He gave me a friendly kiss. “I’ll pick you up at three o’clock for the disaster.”