“Always a good sign,” Morelli said. He rinsed his cup and set it in the dish drain. “I’m out of here. I have to get the computer to the lab.” He kissed me on the top of my head. “Be careful. Tank’s outside, doing his thing. Try not to lose him.”

“I owe you,” I said.

“Yeah, I know. I already have plans.”

And he was gone.

Bob was patiently sitting beside me, waiting for his share. I fed him a couple fries, finished up the rest, and drank the Coke. I gave a big burp and felt pretty decent.

I took a shower and got dressed in a short denim skirt, white sneakers, and a white T-shirt. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, applied some lipstick and a single swipe of mascara, and I was ready for the day.

I put a call in to Lula and got her at a truck stop.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Me and Boo are having breakfast. We’re making real good time. We’re traveling straight along Route Forty all the way. This here’s real interesting. I never drove through anything like this before. This is cowboys and Indians country.”

I hung up, dropped a raisin and a small chunk of cheese into Rex’s cage, gave Bob a hug, and told everybody I’d be back. I locked up after myself and waved to Tank. Tank gave me a nod back.

I drove the short distance to my parents’ house and parked in the driveway. My grandmother was at the door, waiting for me, responding to some mysterious instinct embedded in Burg women . . . an early warning signal that a daughter or granddaughter was approaching.

“That big guy is following you again,” Grandma said, opening the door to me.

“Tank.”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind spending some time with him. You think he could go for an older woman?”

Young women, old women, barnyard animals. “Hard to say with Tank.”

“Your mother’s at the store and the girls are off playing somewhere,” Grandma said. “Valerie’s in the kitchen eating us out of house and home.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Looks like she’s going to explode.”

I went in and took a chair across from Valerie. She was picking at a bowl of macaroni and chicken salad, not showing much enthusiasm for it.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I dunno. I’m not hungry. I think I’m in a slump. My life is same old, same old.”

“You’re having a baby. That’s pretty exciting.”

Valerie looked down at her stomach. “Yeah.” She gently rubbed the baby bulge. “I’m excited about that. It’s just that everything else is so unsettled. I’m living here with Mom and Dad and Gram. After the baby there’ll be four of us in that one small bedroom. I feel like I’m swallowed up and there’s no more Valerie. I was always perfect. I was the epitome of well-being and mental health. Remember how I was serene? Saint Valerie? And I adapted when I moved to California. I went from serene to perky. I was cute,” Valerie said. “I was really cute. I made birthday cakes and pork tenderloins. I bought my jerkoff husband a grill. I had my teeth bleached.”