Janet Evanovich - Takedown Twenty

“There’s a Hoover store?”

“It’s part of the tattoo parlor. They sell Hoovers and sewing machines, and you can get a tattoo. I’ve seen some fine tattoos come out of there.”

“Did you know any of the women who were murdered and left in Dumpsters?”

“You mean like Mrs. Fratelli? She came in here all the time.”

“Did you know any of the others?”

“Nope. Don’t think so.”

“You didn’t kill them, did you?”

“Not that I remember.”

I drove two blocks and parked in front of Fancy Dan’s Tattoo Parlor. The front of the store had a vacuum cleaner display, and the back was given over to the tattoo business.

A heavily tattooed guy approached me and introduced himself as Fancy Dan. “I bet you’d like a rose tattooed on your shoulder,” he said to me. “I’m pretty good at knowing these things.”

“Not today,” I told him. “I want a vacuum cleaner.”

“Usually my wife sells the vacuum cleaners,” he said, “but she had to take the dog to the vet for his annual. Do you have carpet or wood floors?”

“Carpet.” I looked at the lineup of display vacuum cleaners and found one that was exactly like my mother’s. “I’ll take that one,” I said.

Ten minutes later I was on the road with my new vacuum. I took it home, plugged it in, and cleaned my apartment, wishing I could have the same success at cleaning up my life. My life was a mess. I had a crappy job, no car of my own, and too many men in my bed… at least mentally.

“I’m going to fix it,” I said to Rex. “I’m going to start with Morelli. I’m going over to his house and talk to him about our relationship. And then I’m going to apprehend the gang guy Connie just gave me, so I have money to buy a car.” I dropped a peanut into Rex’s cage. “I don’t know what the heck I’m going to do about getting a better job. It’s not like I have a bunch of amazing qualifications.”

By the time I got to Morelli’s house I had my speech all worked out. I had a slow cooker and a vacuum cleaner, and I had plans to get some throw pillows for the couch. I was ready to make a commitment. I didn’t want to be almost engaged. I wanted to be really engaged. I might even want to set a date. After all, I wasn’t getting any younger. If we were going to have a family we should get started. Probably Morelli would be relieved to have me force the issue. Probably he was sitting in his house all alone, nursing his gunshot wound. Poor guy. Just Bob and him.

I parked on the street, behind his green SUV. I rang the bell and let myself in. The television was blaring, and Kenny and Leo, two of Morelli’s cop buddies, were on the couch. There were beer bottles and chips on the coffee table.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Leo said. “He’s making up his famous wings.”

Bob was in the kitchen with Morelli, watching him carefully, hoping for a wing to drop on the floor.

“What’s going on?” I asked him.

“Ball game. The Mets are playing.”

I looked at the platter of wings he was holding. “Leo said you were making up your famous wings. I didn’t know you made wings.”

“I buy them at Costco. When I want to get fancy, I put them on a plate.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Go ahead,” Morelli said. “We can talk while I make my famous blue cheese dressing for the wings.”

He took a bottle of blue cheese salad dressing out of the fridge and dumped it into a bowl. I heard the front door crash open and lots of screaming and little feet pounding their way to the kitchen.

“That’s Anthony,” Morelli said. “He’s got the kids today.”

Little Anthony, Angelina, and Bobby ran in and jumped up and down, yelling.

“Uncle Joe! Uncle Joe! Uncle Joe!”

Morelli took a big bag of M&M’s off the counter and threw it into the living room. “Fetch.”

The kids ran out, and Morelli handed me the platter of wings. “Take this out to the guys.”

“I didn’t mean to barge in.”

“You’re not barging.”

I set the platter on the coffee table, and Morelli’s sister and two more kids arrived.

“Your sister is here,” I said to Morelli.

“Yeah, she’s a big Mets fan.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“What?”

“The party.”

“It’s not a party. It’s game day.” He pulled two more bags of chips out of a cupboard.

“Why wasn’t I invited?”

“No one was invited. People just show up. I can’t get them to stop. Anyway, you don’t want to be here.”

“Of course I do. You’re my boyfriend. In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Sure,” Morelli said, putting a bottle of beer in my hand. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“I’ve been thinking about our relationship and how it’s sort of in a holding pattern.”

A pack of kids ran in, grabbed the bags of chips, and ran out. Bob ran after them. A moment later there was a lot of shrieking and screaming.

“Omigod,” I said. “What happened?”

“Bob got the chips,” Morelli said. “It happens all the time. Go ahead. What were you saying?”

“Maybe this isn’t a good time.”

Bob galloped through the kitchen with the bag of chips in his mouth and crashed through the screen door. The kids followed him into the backyard and chased him around in circles.

“I’m listening,” Morelli said. “You wanted to talk about our relationship.”

“Yes. The thing is… I bought a vacuum cleaner today.”

Morelli was hands on hips. “A vacuum cleaner.”

“Yep. And I already used it. And you know I have that slow cooker I won at Bingo.”

Angelina was at the back door. “Uncle Joe, Bobby rolled in dog poop.”

“Again? Don’t let him in the house,” Morelli said. “Anthony,” he yelled. “Your kid rolled in dog poop.”

“Again?” Anthony said. “Why don’t you clean up your damn yard?”

Anthony walked into the kitchen, and Joe handed him a plastic garbage bag, a roll of paper towels, and dish detergent.

“What’s he going to do?” I asked Morelli.

“Turn the hose on him.” He grabbed a six-pack from the fridge and handed it to me. “Take this to Leo and you’ll miss most of the screaming.”

I took the six-pack into the living room, handed it to Leo, and the front door opened and Bella walked in. She was carrying a casserole and wearing a Mets ball cap. I turned on my heel and hustled back to the kitchen.

“Bella’s here!” I said to Morelli.

“Did she bring the casserole? Is she wearing her lucky hat?”

“Yes! What is she doing here?”

“She’s a big Mets fan. I know she’s crazy, but she’s our lucky granny. If she isn’t here with her casserole, she could jinx the Mets.”

Bobby ran in from the backyard and streaked naked through the kitchen, heading for the living room.

“Where is she?” Bella screeched. “I saw demon woman.”

“She’s coming to get me!” I said to Morelli.

“I’ll talk to her,” Morelli said.

“No way. I’m out of here.”

“The conversation …”

I gave him a fast kiss. “Later.”

He grabbed me and kissed me, and his kiss had a lot more passion than mine. “Promise?”

“Yes. Probably. Maybe.”

I bolted out the door, jumped the hedge to his neighbor’s yard, and sneaked through the narrow alley back to my car. I drove around the block, where I would be out of Bella’s voodoo range, and took a moment to pull myself together.

Okay, I thought, so that didn’t go exactly as expected. No problem. I’d just back-burner the commitment speech until Morelli’s house emptied out. In fact, now that I’d had time to think about it, I might have been rushing things. Maybe my self-improvement project should start with the new car and new job, and then I could ease into the family scene. And if I was going to be brutally honest I’d have to admit I liked kids but might not be ready for the toddler-rolling-in-dog-poop experience. And an even more painful truth was that I couldn’t wash away my Ranger lust and expect my hormones to be suddenly regulated by an engagement ring. I was going to have to get a grip on the hormones all by myself. And I would have to do it before I made the big commitment speech.