Seven Up - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,62

Valerie said. "When you ripped her pants off she was bald down there!"

VALERIE DROPPED ME off at Morelli's house and waved goodbye.

Morelli opened the door and said the obvious. "You're covered with mud."

"It didn't work out exactly as planned."

"I like the no-shirt look. I could get used to it."

I stripped in the hall and Morelli took my clothes directly to the washer. I was still standing there when he returned. I was wearing the four-inch heels and mud and nothing more.

"I'd like to take a shower," I told him, "but if you'd rather I didn't track mud up the stairs you can just throw a bucket of water at me in the backyard."

"I know this is probably sick," Morelli said, "but I'm getting hard."

MORELLI LIVES IN a row house on Slater just a short distance from the Burg. He'd inherited the house from his Aunt Rose and he'd made it a home. Go figure that. The world is filled with mysteries. His house felt a lot like my parents' house, narrow and spare in luxuries, but filled with comforting smells and memories. In Morelli's case the smells were reheated pizza, dog, and fresh paint. Morelli was little by little working on window trim.

We were at his kitchen table . . . me, Morelli, and Bob. Morelli was eating a slice of raisin-cinnamon toast and drinking coffee. And Bob and I ate everything else in the refrigerator. Nothing like a big breakfast after a night of mud wrestling.

I was wearing one of Morelli's T-shirts, a borrowed pair of sweats, and I was barefoot since my shoes were still wet inside and out and would probably get tossed in the trash.

Morelli was dressed for work in his plainclothes cop clothes.

"I don't get it," I said to Morelli. "This guy is riding around in a white Cadillac and the police aren't picking him up. Why is that?"

"Probably he's not riding around a lot. He's been spotted a couple times, but not by anyone who's been in a position to go after him. Once by Mickey Greene on bicycle patrol. Once by a blue-and-white stuck in traffic. And he's not a priority. It isn't like there's someone assigned full-time to finding him."

"He's a murderer. That's not a priority?"

"He's not exactly wanted for murder. Loretta Ricci died of a heart attack. At this point he's only wanted for questioning."

"I think he stole a pot roast from Dougie's freezer."

"Well, that ups the ante. That'll put him on the priority list for sure."

"Don't you think it's weird that he'd steal a pot roast?"

"When you've been a cop for as long as I have you don't think anything is weird."

Morelli finished his coffee, rinsed his cup, and put it in the dishwasher. "I have to go. Are you going to stay here?"

"No. I need a ride back to my apartment. I've got things to do and people to see." And I could use a pair of shoes.

Morelli dropped me at the door to my building. I walked in barefoot, wearing Morelli's clothes, carrying mine. Mr. Morganstern was in the lobby.

"Must have been some night," he said. "I'll give you ten dollars if you'll tell me the details."

"No way. You're too young."

"How about twenty? Only thing is you'll have to wait until the first of the month when I get my Social Security check."

Ten minutes later, I was dressed and out the door. I wanted to get to Melvin Baylor before he left for work. In honor of the Harley, I'd dressed in boots, jeans, T-shirt, and my Schotts leather jacket. I roared out of the parking lot and caught Melvin attempting to unlock his car. The lock had rusted and Melvin was having a hard time turning the key. Why he bothered locking it at all was beyond me. No one would want to steal this car. He was dressed in suit and tie and, with the exception of dark circles under his eyes, he looked much better.

"I hate to bother you," I said, "but you need to go to court and reschedule your date."

"What about work? I'm supposed to go to work."

Melvin Baylor was a very nice schnook. How he ever got the nerve to take a leak on the cake was a mystery.

"You'll have to go in late. I'll call Vinnie and have him meet us at the municipal building and hopefully it won't take long."

"I can't get my car open."

"Then you're in for a treat, because you get to ride on my bike."

"I hate this