Notorious Nineteen

parked in the church lot and we walked to the side door. We were originally supposed to be with Kinsey and Amanda prior to the wedding, but circumstances had of course changed that. The other ushers were already collected in the vestibule. Guests were beginning to arrive. A room had been reserved for the bride and her bridesmaids. Ranger dropped me there and went to wait for Kinsey.
    Everyone was there but Amanda. She was coming with her parents. None of the other women were popping out of their dresses and no one else had hair styled by a Bic lighter. They were relatives of the bride, college roommates, and best friends. They were all good people, including me in their pre-wedding excitement. No one mentioned my hair, but it was the elephant in the room.
    “It was set on fire,” I finally said. “I had an episode with a crazy person, and he set my hair on fire.”
    Everyone went bug-eyed.
    “What happened to the crazy person?” one of the women asked.
    “He blew himself up.”
    “Get out! You mean like guts all over the place?”
    “Not all over the place,” I said. “He was pretty well contained, all things considered.”
    Ranger called on my phone and asked me to come into the hall. I went out and found him smiling.
    “They eloped,” he said.
    “Seriously?”
    “Kinsey just called. They’re on a plane for Paris.”
    “Gee,” I said. “I’m all dressed up. I was looking forward to walking down the aisle in my sneakers.”
    “You can wear your sneakers to the reception. They’re going ahead with it.”
    “I’ll pass on the reception.”
    Ranger kissed me on the top of the head. “Good choice.”
    Morelli, Logan, Tiki, and Bob were still in front of the television when I returned. Logan and Bob were asleep. Tiki was ever vigilant. Morelli looked bored.
    “Short wedding,” Morelli said.
    “They eloped at the last minute.”
    Morelli looked at Logan. “What am I supposed to do with him? Are we adopting him?”
    “No. Give me a minute to get out of this monstrosity and I’ll take him off your hands.”
    I ran upstairs, shucked the dress, and got back into my jeans and Morelli’s T-shirt. I went into Morelli’s upstairs office and sat at his desk. I pulled up an online travel site on his computer, searched for tickets to Hawaii, and booked Logan and Tiki on a red-eye leaving from Newark. I returned to the living room and grabbed my messenger bag.
    “I need the keys to the Buick,” I said to Morelli. “I’m taking Logan for a ride.”
    “You’re not going to drop him off in a field like a stray cat, are you?”
    “No. And I wouldn’t do that to a stray cat either.”
    I woke Logan, gave him a granola bar, and told him we were heading out.
    “Are we going to jail?” he asked.
    “No,” I told him. “I’m going to get you and Tiki back to Hawaii.”
    “I haven’t got the moola,” Logan said. “I only saved up enough for half a ticket.”
    “My treat,” I said.
    “This could be construed as helping a fugitive to flee,” Morelli said.
    I rolled my eyes at Morelli. “He bashed in a police car. That’s everyone’s fantasy.”
    Morelli turned back to the television. “I didn’t hear anything. This conversation never took place. Do you want me to ride along with you?”
    “Not necessary,” I said, “but thanks.”
    I got Logan and Tiki buckled into the Buick and I made my way to the highway. Route 1 wasn’t bad at this time of evening on a Saturday, and once I got on the Turnpike I flew. I pulled into short-term parking and walked Logan to the terminal. I waited while he and Tiki sailed through check-in with their e-tickets for two seats and went through securitywithout a hitch. I walked back to the Buick feeling good. It had been a really weird day, but it was ending happy.
    I got a mental message from Tiki a few minutes before seven that they were about to take off, and he wanted to thank me. Minutes later I got a text message from Morelli telling me to pick up a pizza on my way home.

TWENTY-FIVE
    MORELLI AND I were halfway through the large pizza, extra cheese, extra pepperoni, when Grandma called me.
    “I cracked the case,” she said. “I got it all figured out. Millie Debrowski and I went to the diner on Livingston for dinner tonight because Millie was hankering for their rice pudding. That’s the diner the old coots went to when it turned out they couldn’t rough up Geoffrey Cubbin. Well, we’re walking in and I notice they got business hours on the door