“I’ll call him tomorrow,” Connie said. “I can’t imagine him not taking one million two.”

I looked at the pile of money heaped on Vinnie’s desk. “What are we going to do with this until tomorrow? It’s not going to fit in Vinnie’s safe.”

“We’ll put the stacks of high-denomination bills in the safe,” Connie said. “The rest can get hidden from view under his desk. I’ll lock Vinnie’s office door and set the alarm when we leave.”

I STOPPED AT the all-night supermarket on the way home and got everything on my list but bullets. I parked in the lot behind my apartment building, grabbed the grocery bags from the backseat, turned, and bumped into a rock-solid guy. Morelli.

“Jeez!” I said. “You scared the heck out of me. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I didn’t sneak. You parked next to me and didn’t even notice.”

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“Want to share it?”

I paused for a minute, hugging the bags to me, debating. “No,” I said. “I can’t.”

“You smell really bad,” Morelli said. “Like a stink bomb.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Where were you tonight?”

“I went out for dinner with Lula and Connie.”

“Someone set a stink bomb off in Bobby Sunflower’s funeral home,” Morelli said.

“And?”

“The only one I know who can build a stink bomb of that magnitude is Connie. She was in my graduating class in high school, and she was famous.”

“Why would Connie set off a stink bomb in Sunflower’s funeral home?”

“You tell me.”

Our eyes locked for a moment before I turned away. “Don’t know,” I said.

Morelli took the bags from me and walked me to the building. “That’s a fib.”

“It’s my story,” I said, “and I’m sticking to it.”

He held the door for me and followed me through the foyer and into the elevator.

“This could be a romantic moment if you smelled better,” he said.

I found it hard to believe a little stink would deter Morelli’s libido. Since becoming a bounty hunter, I’ve smelled like dog poop, garbage, blown-up funeral home, and monkey. It’s hard to believe stink bomb was any worse. The elevator doors opened, and Morelli tagged behind me.

“Here’s what’s confusing me,” he said. “I know Connie’s stink bombs pretty well, and you’re definitely smelling like a stink bomb, but there’s also a hint of fried chicken.”

“Cluck-in-a-Bucket,” I said. “Extra crispy.”

Morelli stopped in the middle of my hall. “Omigod. You’re the one who turned Mr. Jingles loose.”

I plugged the key into my lock and opened the door. “It wasn’t me, I swear.”

Morelli set the bags on my counter and helped himself to a beer. “Lula?”

“I’m not saying. Was anyone hurt? Did any dogs or cats get eaten?”

Morelli chugged some beer. “Negative. Mr. Jingles got caught without incident. Animal control went to serve Chopper with a ticket, and they said his door was open and there were grease stains all over his apartment and it smelled like fried chicken and alligator.”