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“Olives.”

He opened the sandwich and looked inside. “Where's the jelly?”

“No jelly.”

“I think I need another beer.”

“Just eat it!” I yelled. “What do I look like, Betty Crocker? I didn't have a great day, either, you know. Not that anybody asked me about my day!”

Morelli grinned. “What about your day?”

I slumped onto the couch. “Found Maxine. Lost Maxine.”

“Happens,” Morelli said. “You'll find her again. You're the bounty hunter from hell.”

“I'm afraid she's getting ready to bolt big time.”

“Can't blame her. There are some scary guys out there.”

“I asked her mother what this was all about, and she said it was about money. Then she laughed.”

“You saw her mother?”

I filled Morelli in on the details, and he didn't look happy when I was done.

“Something has to be done about Barnhardt,” he said.

“Any ideas?”

“Nothing that wouldn't get my shield taken away.”

There was a moment of silence between us.

“So,” I said, “how well do you know Joyce?”

The grin returned. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“You want a full accounting of my sex life up to this moment?”

“That would probably take days.”

Morelli slouched a little lower in his chair, his legs stretched in front of him, his lips curved into a smile, his eyes dark and dreamy. “I don't know Joyce as well as I know you.”

The phone rang, and we both gave a start. Morelli had the cordless on the table beside him. He answered and mouthed “Your mother.”

I was making no, no, no signals, but Morelli continued to smile and handed the phone over to me.

“I saw Ed Crandle this afternoon,” my mother said. “He said don't worry, he'll take care of everything. He's going to drop the forms off here.”

Ed Crandle lived across the street from my mother, and he sold insurance. I guessed this meant that I had some. Ordinarily I could look in my desk drawer to check. That wasn't possible now that my desk drawer and everything in it was smoke.

“And that nice superintendent, Dillon Ruddick, called and said your apartment was sealed for security right now, so you can't get in. But he said he was going to start work on it next week. Also, a woman named Sally would like you to call her back.”

I thanked my mother and again declined dinner and the use of my room. I hung up and called Sally.

“Shit,” Sally said, “I just heard about your apartment. Hey, I'm really sorry. Is there anything I can do? You need a place to crash?”


Tags: Janet Evanovich Stephanie Plum Mystery