Connie looked at the sticker on the bottom of a plate. “We’ve had these dishes for a year and a half.”

“It don’t matter. They’re mine.”

“Where’s your nephew?” Connie asked.

“Tennessee.”

The first woman handed Connie a twenty and started stacking up her dishes.

“Police!” the second woman yelled. “There’s a robbery going on here.”

Lula ran in with her gun. “Did someone say robbery?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” I told Lula. “Don’t shoot anyone.”

“It was no misunderstanding,” the second woman said. “Those are my dishes. This old lady here was gonna walk out with them.”

“Old? Excuse me,” the first woman said. “You’re not exactly a spring chicken. And these are my dishes. I saw them first.”

They both had hold of a plate, and they were nose to nose, eyes narrowed.

Mooner strolled over with a plate of brownies. “Ladies, have a bite of a Moon Man brownie. We’re selling them out front, but these are free samples. I made these brownies in my very own test kitchen in the Love Bus.”

We all took a time-out so the ladies and Lula could have a brownie.

“These are real good brownies,” Lula said. “These are doughnut-quality brownies.”

“I changed my mind,” woman number one said. “I don’t want the dishes. I’m buying brownies.”

“I don’t want the dishes, either,” woman number two said. “I never liked them anyway.”

Lula took a second brownie and went back to patrol the sidewalk.

“If she keeps eating brownies, we’re going to have to take her keys away,” Connie said. “I don’t know exactly what’s in Mooner’s brownies, but my guess is they’re at least sixty percent controlled substance.”

“I’m surprised Sunflower wouldn’t take what you offered for Vinnie.”

“He was in a vicious mood. He said we were lucky he was holding at a million three. And we have until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Did you discuss how the trade-off was going to work?”

“No. He didn’t want to talk. He was really cranky. He gave me his demand and hung up on me.”

“Guess things aren’t going good in Sunflower Land.”

Lula pushed her way back to us.

“Watch out. Comin’ through. Outta my way,” she was saying. “I just sold all our guns,” she said to Connie. “We got any more?”

“No, that was it,” Connie said. “I saved the good stuff for our personal use. I have them locked down in the back room.”

“Too bad,” Lula said. “There’s a couple guys buying up everything. I sold them a case of cuffs Vinnie got at that fire sale. And they bought the box of dynamite that got wet when the roof leaked in January.”

“Local guys?”

“Nope. They were from Idaho. They said they were part of some militia, here on a recruiting drive.”

“Uh-oh,” Connie said, looking past me. “Morelli’s at the door, and he doesn’t look happy.”

“Probably, he wanted some of them guns,” Lula said. “That’s what happens when you don’t get here early. You miss out on all the best stuff.”

Morelli made his way back to us and clamped a hand around my wrist. “We need to talk.”

“Howdy,” Lula said. “You’re lookin’ fine today, Officer Morelli.”

Morelli made a half-hearted attempt not to smile. “You’re going to have to cut her off from the brownies,” he said to Connie.

“I’d chain her to the street light, but she sold all my handcuffs,” Connie said.

Morelli pulled me past the file cabinets to the back door.

“What the hell’s going on?” he said. “I was driving by on my way to the station, and I saw a couple neo-Nazis loading guns into the back of their van.”

“They were neo-Nazis?”

“And there’s a line halfway down the block to buy Mooner’s brownies. I don’t suppose you checked the ingredients?”

“Chocolate, eggs, flour…” I said.

“There’s not a person in that line who’ll be able to pass a drug test.”

He leaned close to me, nuzzling my neck, his lips brushing my ear. “You smell nice again.”

“You, too. You smell like… brownie!”

Morelli grinned down at me. “I don’t know where he’s getting it, but he’s got some really good shit in those brownies.”

“Are you going to shut him down?”

“No. By the time I get back to him, he’ll have sold out, and the problem will be solved.”

“How’d it go with the dead lawyers?”

“Complete cluster fuck. I didn’t get home until four in the morning. I’ve had four hours of sleep. The feds had to come in and do their thing. The crime-scene truck broke down and was two hours late. It took forever to get the bodies released to the ME. And now I’ve got extra paperwork.”

He looked to the front of the office. “This is a zoo. It’s like vultures fighting over a dead cow.”

I looked around. “Yeah, getting to be only bones left. It’s amazing what Connie’s sold in two hours.”

“The brownies helped.”

“Do you like being a cop?” I asked him.

“Sometimes. Why do you ask?”

“I’m not sure I like being a bounty hunter anymore.”

“What would you rather do?”

“That’s the problem,” I said. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a passion for anything. I went into retail after college because I like to shop, but I didn’t especially like my job. And I’m not sure I was good at it. And then I became a bounty hunter because I couldn’t get anything else. And I know I’m not the world’s best bounty hunter.”

“You make a lot of captures,” Morelli said.

“Wow, are you being supportive of my job?”

“No. I hate your job, but you’re not horrible at it.”

“That’s the problem. I’m not horrible at it. I want to be wonderful at something.”

“I know a few things you’re wonderful at.”

“Good grief.”

Morelli hooked a finger under the shoulder strap on my tank top. “Would you like me to list them?”

“No!”

“Tonight?”

“Maybe tonight,” I said.

Morelli leaned into me and kissed me lightly on the lips. “You’re such a cupcake.”

I supposed that was good, but I wasn’t sure. I watched Morelli walk away, and I had a rush of tenderness, and then I got a rush of lust. Morelli was flat-out handsome, and I knew a few of his talents, too.

I went back to Connie. She was packing the service for eight in a box while a woman waited. She gave the woman the box and she left, elbowing her way through the crowd.

“I’m going to cut this off at noon,” Connie said. “We only have junk left. Nothing that’s going to bring any real money.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, you can get food. When I shut this down, we’ll count everything up. Lula’s either going to be passed out or have the munchies real bad by then.”

TWENTY

WHEN I RETURNED to the office a little after noon, the tables were gone from the sidewalk and the cars and trucks were also gone. Mooner’s RV was still parked in front of the bookstore, but Mooner wasn’t in sight. Most likely, he was inside the Love Bus planning out Hobbit Con. I carted the bags of food into the office and set it all out on Connie’s desk.

Connie was working with a calculator, adding in money she’d arranged in stacks on the floor. She had a Glock on the desk beside her phone. Lula was asleep on the couch. Lula woke up when she heard the food bags rustling.

“Is that food? God bless whoever brought food. I’m starved.”

“I have meatball subs and potato salad and macaroni from Pino’s,” I told her.

Connie took a sub and kept working, plugging numbers into the calculator.

“How are we doing?” I asked her.

“I think we’re going to make it. The guns and the motorcycle helped a lot.”

“That whole back room is just about empty,” Lula said. “Only thing left is dust bunnies.”

I sat back and ate my lunch and watched traffic move past the bonds office. The rhythm on the street was normal again. I imagined the militiamen were on their way back to Idaho with their dynamite, and some woman in the Burg was setting her new service for eight in her china closet.