Probably the webmaster took the computer after he shot Klein. Paressi's computer was missing. Rosen's computer was missing. By the time the police got to Howie's apartment, his computer was missing."

"Klein slipped up somehow when he took out Singh. He didn't get Singh's computer," I said.

"He was probably waiting for Lu to leave, but you and Connie and Lula were in place by then."

Bob stopped, hunched in front of old Mr. Galucci's house, and conversation was momentarily suspended while we watched Bob poop. How embarrassing is this? Poop is not something I feel comfortable sharing with Ranger. Actually, I'm not comfortable sharing poop with anyone. I'm not even comfortable with it when I'm alone.

When Bob was done I scooped the poop up in a sandwich bag. And now the horror continued because I had a bag of poop and no place to put it.

"Babe," Ranger said.

Hard to tell if he was horrified or impressed by my poop scooping. "I don't suppose you have a dog in the Bat Cave?" I asked him.

"The Bat Cave is dog free."

Bob pulled at the leash and we continued walking.

"Everyone involved had a laptop," I said. "Did they have anything else in common?"

"Singh, Howie, Rosen, and Klein were all computer geeks and loners. Paressi doesn't entirely fit the profile, but she became a computer junkie when she broke up with Scrugs. Probably there's a connection between her and Rosen. Maybe Paressi talked to Rosen about the game and Rosen came on board after Paressi was killed. They were all between the ages of nineteen and twenty-seven. Rosen was the oldest. None were especially successful."

"Bart Cone doesn't fit the profile, does he?"

Ranger was looking ahead at houses and cars. "Not entirely, but he fits better than Andrew." Ranger turned at the sound of a car a block behind us, traveling in our direction. He had his hand resting on his gun and his eyes stayed steady on the car. The car passed without incident and Ranger dropped his hand off the gun.

"Andrew lives in a nice midrange house with his wife. It's a stable relationship. They like to cook. They vacation at the Jersey shore. They have two kids.

"Clyde lives in a rental house on State Street. He shares the house with two other guys. I'm guessing he's known them forever. I found a photo of the three of them when they were in high school. The house is pretty much a wreck inside and out. Thrift shop furniture, broken blinds, refrigerator filled with beer and take-out boxes."

"So Andrew and Clyde aren't loner computer geeks."

"They aren't loners. I don't know how much time they spend on the computer."

We turned the corner and headed for home. "You've been busy using your breaking and entering skills," I said.

"I just enter. I don't usually break."

"You broke down Pitch's door."

"Lost my temper."

Bob hunched again.

"Oh, for crissake," I said.

Morelli was sitting on his front step when we got back with Bob. "Lucky you," he said. "A two-bag day."

"I think we should stop feeding him."

"Yeah," Morelli said. "That would work." He stood and took Bob's leash and looked over at Ranger.

"It's been quiet," Ranger said. "No shooting. No one tailing us. No death threats or poison darts."

Morelli nodded.

"Your watch," Ranger said to Morelli. And he left.

"The bodyguard thing is getting old," I told Morelli.

"Did you tell that to Ranger?"

"Would it do any good?"

Morelli followed me into the house. "I have some bad news and then I have some bad news," Morelli said.

"Let's start with the bad news first."

"I checked your email account this afternoon just before I left work. You have another carnation letter. It's on the sideboard. I printed it out for you."

I looked at the email.

It will happen soon. Nothing can stop it. Are you excited?

"This guy's turning out to be a real pain in the ass," I said. "Now what's the bad news?"

"Grandma Bella's on her way over."

"What?"

"She called just as you were coming down the street with Bob. She said she had another vision and she had to tell you."

"You're kidding!"

"I'm not kidding."

"Why didn't you tell her not to come? Why didn't you tell her I wasn't home?" All right, maybe I sounded a little whiney, but this was Grandma Bella we were expecting. And whiney was better than flat-out hysteria, right?

"She's coming with a dish of my mother's manicotti. Have you ever tasted my mother's manicotti?"

"You sold me out for manicotti!"

Morelli grinned and kissed me on the forehead. "You can have some, too. And by the way, your hair is cute."

I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn't feeling cute. In fact, I'd decided I didn't like cute. Cute wasn't a word anyone would use to describe Morelli or Ranger. Cute implied a degree of helplessness. Kittens were cute.

A car stopped in front of the house and I took a deep breath. Calm down, I thought. Don't want to be rude. Don't want to let them sense fear. There was a knock at the door and Joe reached for the handle.

"Touch that handle and you die," I said. "She's coming here to see me. I'll let her in."

The grin returned. "Woman in charge," Morelli said.

I opened the door and smiled at the two women. "How nice to see you again," I said. "Come in."

"We can't stay," Joe's mother said. "We're on our way to church. We just wanted to drop this manicotti off."

I took the casserole and Grandma Bella fixed her scary eye on me.

"I had a vision," Bella said.

I looked down at her and screwed my face into an expression that I hoped conveyed mild interest. "Really?"

"It was you. You were dead. Just like the last time. You went into the ground."

"Uh-hunh."

"I saw you in the box."

"Mahogany? The model with the scroll work?"

"Top of the line," Bella said.

I turned to Joe. "Nice to know."

"A comfort," Joe said.

"So was there anything different about the vision this time?" I asked Bella.

"It was the same vision. But last time I forgot to tell you . . . you were old."

"How old?"

"Real old."

"We have to go now," Joe's mother said. "It wouldn't hurt you to come to church once in a while, Joseph."

Joe smiled and gave her and Bella a kiss on the cheek. "Be careful." He closed the door after them and took the manicotti from me. "Way to go. That was impressive."

"I'm fearless."

"Cupcake, you are not fearless. But you can bluff with the best of them."

"What gave me away?"

"You had a death grip on the manicotti. Your knuckles were turning white."

Bob and I followed Morelli into the kitchen.

"I was old in Bellas vision," I said to Morelli. "I guess I can stop worrying about the carnation killer now. And I definitely don't need a bodyguard."

"I can hardly wait for you to explain this to Ranger," Morelli said.

I woke up to sun streaming in through Morelli's bedroom window. Morelli was long gone and Bob was asleep in his place, head on the pillow, one eye open and watching me.

I got up, went to the window, and looked out. There was a shiny black Ford Explorer parked two houses away on the opposite side of the street. Not Ranger. Ranger never drove the Explorer. Not Tank. Tank was sitting somewhere in the Bat Cave with his leg elevated. Probably Cal. Hard to tell at this distance.

I took a shower, dressed in a tank top, jeans, and sneakers and wrinkled my nose at my hair. I had a tube of hair gunk that was a combination of wallpaper paste and mustache wax. I pulled a big glob of it through my hair with my fingers and my curls stood up at attention. I was a couple inches taller with the gunk in my hair and I wasn't a real good judge, but I suspected I was no longer cute.

A half hour later, I rolled into the office.

"Whoa," Connie said at my hair. "What happened to you?"

"I got a haircut."

"I hope you didn't give him a tip."

"Am I cute?"

"That's not the first word that comes to mind."

Vinnie stuck his head out and grimaced at me. "Holy shit. What'd you do, tag yourself with the stun gun? I wouldn't show that hairdo to your mother if I was you." And he went back into his office.

"I didn't think it was that bad," I said to Connie.

"You look like you soaked your head in liquid starch and then stood in a wind tunnel."

Vinnie jumped out of his office. "I got it! I know who it is that you look like . . . Don King!" And Vinnie jumped back inside and slammed and locked his door.

I felt my hair. It was pretty stiff. Maybe I overdid the hair gunk.

"Omigod," Connie said, looking out the big front window. "Its Lula!"

Sure enough, the red Firebird was parked at the curb and Lula was at the door with Boo under her arm.

"What did I miss?" Lula wanted to know, coming over to the desk. "What's going on? Did I miss anything?"

I didn't know where to begin. There'd been death, birth, sex, and hair loss.

Lula shifted Boo on her hip. "Are you still looking for that carnation guy?"

"Yep," I said. "Haven't found him yet. I tried calling you, but your phone wasn't working."

"I stopped to take a break, got out of the car, the phone fell on the ground, and the dog peed on it."

"You made good time," Connie said.

"That is one motherfucker long trip," Lula said. "I was in the car for eight hours and my ass was asleep when I hit Little Rock and I said, 'Stick a fork in me, 'cause I'm done.' So I handed the rental car in and I hooked up with a couple truckers who drove day and night. And here I am. They dropped me off late last night."

Connie took a closer look at Lula. "Did you lose weight?"