“I see you looking at my cookies,' my father said to Morelli. 'Don't even think about it. Go get your own cookies.”

“I finished my soup and bread and helped myself to a handful of cookies from the cookie jar, glancing at Morelli, wondering at his lean body. He’d eaten two bowls of soup, half a loaf of bread slathered in butter, and seven cookies. I’d counted. He saw me staring and raised his eyebrows in silent question. “I suppose you work out,” I said, mores statement than question. “I run when I can. Do some weights.” He grinned. “Morelli men have good metabolisms.” Life was a bitch.”

“He reached out, opened the glove compartment, and took out a gun. It was a Smith & Wesson .38 five-shot special. It looked a lot like my gun."I stopped by your apartment this morning and picked this up for you," Ranger said. "I found it in the cookie jar.""Tough guys always keep their gun in the cookie jar.""Name one.""Rockford."Ranger grinned. "I stand corrected.”

“I don't believe this," Morelli yelled. "I don't fucking believe this. What do you do, sit in bed at night and think about ways to fuck up my life?”

“One of us should stop her," Ranger said to Morelli, his eyes fixed on me."Not going to be me," Morelli said. "Have you ever tried to stop her from doing something she wanted to do?""Haven't had much success at it," Ranger said.Morelli rocked on his heels. "One thing I've learned about Stephanie over the years, she's not good at taking orders.""Has authority issues," Ranger said."And if you piss her off, she'll get even. She ran me over with her father's Buick once and broke my leg."That got a small smile out of Ranger."Nice to see you boys bonding," I said.”

“I was waiting for my body receipt when Morelli walked in. He nodded to Ranger and grinned at me in my whiteness. “I was at my desk, and Mickey told me I had to come out to take a look,” Morelli said. “It’s floor,” I told him. “I can see that. If we add some milk and eggs, we can turn you into a cake.”

“Bob had a dog buscuit stuck to his head. "How does he always get food stuck to him?" I asked Morelli. "I don't know," Morelli said. "It's a Bob mystery. I think stuff falls out of his mouth and he rolls in it. I'm not sure."-Morelli And Stephanie”