Morelli was wearing a blazer over a black knit shirt, He took a seat, and his jacket swung wide, exposing the gun at his hip.”Nice piece!” Grandma said. “What is it? Is that a forty-five?””It’s a nine- millimeter.””Don’t suppose you’d let me see it,” Grandma said. “I’d sure like to get the feel of a gun like that.””No!” said everyone in unison.”I shot a chicken once,” Grandma explained to Morelli. “It was an accident.””Where did you shoot it?” he finally asked.”In the gumpy,” Grandma said. “Shot it clear off.



