stomped up the stairs. I brushed my teeth, got into my nightshirt and crawled into bed. I laid there for a half hour in the dark, feeling cranky and lonely, wishing Rex wasn't in the kitchen, wondering what ever possessed me to make that stupid bet. Fear, I thought. That's what possessed me. Fear of being dumped again. Fear of getting screwed over. Fear of defective condoms. Finally I got out of bed and stomped back down the stairs.
Morelli was in the living room, slouched in his favorite chair, watching television. He gave me a long, considering look.
"I came to get Rex," I said, swishing past him.
Morelli was still watching me when I returned carrying the hamster cage. The look was speculative and quietly unnerving.
"What?" I said.
"Nice nightshirt."
SUNDAY MORNING I opened my eyes and thought about Maxine Nowicki. I'd been on the case for a week. It felt like three. I dressed in shorts and T-shirt, and without even bothering to comb my hair, carted Rex to the kitchen.
Morelli glanced up from the paper when I padded in. He took in my hair and smiled. "Trying to help me win the bet?"
I poured out a mug of coffee and looked at the white bakery bag on the table. "Doughnuts?"
"Yeah. I was going to go to church, but I decided to get doughnuts instead."
I sat across from him and selected a Boston creme. "I've been on this Nowicki case for a week, and I don't think I'm making any progress."
"Imagine how the merry mutilator-murderer feels. He's hacking people up and making no progress."
"There's that." I reached behind me for the portable phone and dialed Kuntz. "No answer."
Morelli gave a chunk of doughnut to Rex and topped his cup. "Maybe we should take a ride over there this morning."
This caught my attention. "You have one of those cop feelings, don't you?"
"Feels funky."
I agreed. It felt funky. I ate two doughnuts, read the funnies and went upstairs to take a shower. I left the door unlocked, but Morelli didn't traipse inside. Good, I told myself. This was much better. Yeah, right.
Morelli was waiting for me when I came down the stairs. "Ready," I said.
Morelli looked at the big black leather tote bag draped over my shoulder. "You have a gun in there, don't you?"
"Christ, Morelli, I'm a bounty hunter."
"You have a permit to carry concealed?"
"You know I don't."
"Then get rid of the gun."
"You're wearing a gun!"
"I'm a cop."
I screwed up my mouth. "Big deal."
"Listen," Morelli said, "this is just the way it is. I'm a cop, and I can't go out with you when I know you're carrying concealed illegally. Besides, the thought of you with a gun in your hand scares the crap out of me."
As well it should. "Fine," I said, taking the gun out of my bag. "Just don't come running to me for help." I looked around. "So where do I put this?"
Morelli rolled his eyes and put the gun in a drawer in the sideboard. "You only had one, right?"
"What do I look like, Hopalong Cassidy?"
THE FIRST THING Morelli and I noticed was that Eddie Kuntz's car was nowhere to be seen. The second was that no one was answering the door. Morelli and I looked in the front window. No lights burning. No bodies on the floor. No sign of struggle. No Kuntz.
We were standing there with our noses pressed to the glass when the Lincoln Town Car pulled up.
"What's going on?" Leo wanted to know.
"I'm looking for Eddie," I said. "Have you seen him?"
Betty joined us on the porch. "Is something wrong?"
"They're looking for Eddie," Leo said. "When did we see him last? Yesterday?"
"Last night," Betty said. "He went out a little after eight. I remember because I was watering my flowers."
"Was his car here this morning?"
"Now that you mention it, I don't remember seeing it," Betty said.
"Saturday night," Leo said. "You know how it is with a young man."
Morelli and I looked at each other.
"Could be," Morelli said.
I gave them my card with my phone and pager numbers. "Just in case," I said.
"Sure," Leo said, "but don't worry. He's just partying."
They disappeared into their cool, dark house and the door clicked closed. No cake invitation.
Morelli and I went back to the truck.
"So?" I said.
"It would make sense that the note was personal and not from Maxine. It would explain the fact that it wasn't in code."
"You really believe that?"
Morelli shrugged. "It's possible."
I stared into the Glick front window. "They're watching us. I can see them