“[Stephanie] 'You see, Mrs. Mayer was going on about George's lodge, and how he wanted to be buried with his ring, and so Grandma had to check the ring out, and in the process broke off one of George's fingers. Turns out the finger was wax. Somehow Kenny got into the mortuary this morning, left Spiro a note, and chopped off George's finger. And then while I was at the mall tonight with Mary Lou, Kenny threatened me in the shoe department. That must have been when he put the finger in my pocket.'[Morelli] 'Have you been drinking?”

“Stephanie: “I have a list of Kenny's friends. I'm going to run through it.”Morelli: “Where'd you get this list?” Stephanie: “Privileged information.”Morelli: “You broke into his apartment and stole his little black book.”Stephanie: “I didn't steal it. I copied it.”Morelli: “I don't want to here any of this. You're not carrying concealed, are you?”Stephanie: “Who, me?”Morelli: “Shit, I must be crazy to work with you”

“I want to give you something.” He slid the ring off his finger. “Up until this week, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to wear this ring. Not as a piece of jewelry, but because I thought I could find meaning in saving others, in being a hero. But the meaning I’ve finally found in my life is from meeting you.” He set the ring on the palm of his hand and held it out. “I want you to have it.”

“They’re promise rings,” he whispered. Picking up the woman’s, he lifted my right hand. Sliding it on my finger, he softly said, “You wear one,” he slipped the man’s on the ring finger of his right hand, “and I wear one.”

“You sure you don't want to go?” Grandma Mazur asked my mother.“I didn't know Moogey Bues,” my mother told her. “I've got better things to do than to go to a viewing of a perfect stranger.”“I wouldn't go either,” Grandma Mazur said, “but I'm helping Stephanie with this here manhunt. Maybe Kenny Mancuso will show up, and Stephanie will need some extra muscle. I was watching Television, and I saw how you stick your fingers in a person's eyes to slow them down.”“She's your responsibility,” my mother said to me. “She sticks her fingers in anybody's eyes I'm holding you accountable.”

“Married?" she practically screeched, not sounding all that pleased, which left him feeling a little offended. "We're not getting married."He snorted at that. "I may have let you have your naughty little way with me for the past couple of months, but that doesn't mean I'm going to allow you to keep treating me like some dirty little boy toy. If you want to live with me then I expect you to put a ring on my finger," he said, holding up his left hand and wiggling his ring finger to punctuate his words.”