We both jumped when the phone rang.
“I'm giving you another chance,” DeChooch said. “You screw this one up and your grandmother's gone.”
“Is she okay?”
“She's driving me nuts.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“You can talk to her when you deliver the heart. Here's the new plan. Take the heart and your cell phone to the diner in Hamilton Township.”
“The Silver Dollar?”
“Yeah. I'll call you tomorrow night at seven.”
“Why can't we make the swap sooner?”
“Believe me, I'd love to make the swap sooner, but it don't work out for me. Is the heart still in good shape?”
“I've got it on ice.”
“How much ice?”
“It's frozen.”
“I figured you'd have to do that. Just make sure you don't chip a piece off. I was real careful taking it out. I don't want you messing it up.”
He disconnected and my stomach felt sick.
“Ick.”
Morelli put his arm around me. “Don't worry about your grandmother. She's like that '53 Buick. Frighteningly indestructible. Maybe even immortal.”
I shook my head. “She's just an old lady.”
“I'd feel a lot better if I honestly believed that,” Morelli said. “But what I think we have here is a generation of women and cars that defy science and logic.”
“You're thinking of your own grandmother.”
“I've never admitted this to anyone before, but sometimes I worry she can actually give people the eye. Sometimes she scares the hell out of me.”
I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. Morelli had always been so casual about his grandmother's threats and predictions.
I slipped my number 35 jersey on over my T-shirt, and Morelli and I watched the Rangers game. After the game we walked Bob, and crawled into bed.
Crash. Scratch, scratch. Crash.
Morelli and I looked at each other. Bob was foraging, knocking dishes off the kitchen counter, looking for crumbs.
“He's hungry,” Morelli said. “Maybe we should lock him in the bedroom with us so he doesn't eat a chair.”
Morelli got out of bed and returned with Bob. Morelli locked the door and got back into bed. And Bob jumped into bed with us. Bob turned in a circle five or six times, scratched at the quilt, turned some more, looked confused.
“He's kind of cute,” I said to Morelli. “In a prehistoric way.”
Bob did a few more turns and then wedged himself between Morelli and me. He laid his big dog head on a corner of Morelli's pillow, gave a sigh of contentment, and instantly fell asleep.
“You need to get a bigger bed,” Morelli said.