Notorious Nineteen

TWENTY-ONE

I WAS SHOCKED out of sleep by someone banging on my apartment door. I rolled out of bed and padded to my small foyer. The sun was pouring into my living room. The day had started without me. I looked through the peephole and didn’t see anyone. There was more pounding and I realized it was low on the door. I looked through the peephole again, this time down toward the floor. It was Briggs. I opened my door and he rushed in.

“A person could grow old standing out there,” Briggs said. He squinted at me. “Are you still in pajamas? It’s the middle of the day.”

“It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”

“Well, it feels like the middle of the day. I’ve been up since three. I can’t sleep. This disappearing patient thing is driving me nuts. And I think the hospital is interviewing security people. They’re gonna fire me over this.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Are you kidding? It’s worse than that bad. They didn’t want to hire me in the first place.”

“Because you’re short?”

“No. Because I’m incompetent. I have no qualifications. All I’ve got going for me is the short card.”

“Better than nothing.”

“Yeah, go figure.”

I walked into the kitchen and got the coffeemaker working. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to find these guys.”

“I’ve been trying,” I said to Briggs. “Do you want coffee?”

“Yeah. You got any eggs?”

“No.”

“Toast?”

“No.”

“Cereal?”

“No.”

“What have you got?” he asked.

“Coffee.”

“How do you live like this?”

I took two coffee mugs from the cabinet and set them on the counter. “I keep forgetting to stop at the store.”

I gave Briggs his coffee, set him in front of the television, and brought Tiki in to keep him company while I took a shower. I wanted to help Briggs but I had nowhere to go. I was out of ideas.

I took as long as possible in the shower, drying my hair, applying makeup. I wasn’t eager to start my day.

“Hey,” Briggs yelled from the living room. “Did you die in there? Let’s go!”

I ambled out. “Where do you want to go?”

“The Clinic. I think you should bust in there and search the place. Dollars to donuts Pitch is in there.”

“How am I supposed to bust in? No one answers the door.”

“Break a window. Kick down the door. What the heck do I care? Just get in.”

“Why don’t you go in? You’re the only one with a way to get in.”

“I’m afraid I’ll get caught trespassing or something. And then I’ll for sure lose my job. You and Fatso break into places all the time. It don’t matter with your job. And you got a cop for a boyfriend.”

“I’ll drive us out there, and we’ll take a look, but I’m not breaking in.”

“How about if something’s going on?”

“Like what?”

“Like a helicopter landing. Or Pitch looking out a window? Or attack dogs patrolling the property.”

“If we see any of those things I’ll call Morelli.”

“I guess that’s okay,” Briggs said. “I just don’t want Pitch getting away.”

I parked within sight of The Clinic, and Briggs and I watched the building for three hours.

“I’m hungry,” I said. “And nothing’s happening. I’m giving up on this.”

“He’s gotta be in there,” Briggs said. “Where else would he be?”

“Switzerland?”

“There’s a car coming,” Briggs said. “Duck down!”

The car sped past us and turned in to the driveway to The Clinic’s garage. We sat and waited and an hour later the car left The Clinic and drove down the road. I followed at a distance.

“This is big,” Briggs said. “This is a new car. It’s a silver Lexus. It wasn’t in the garage that night. And it doesn’t belong to Nurse Cokehead.”

The Lexus left Route 1, cut across North Trenton, and pulled into the parking lot of the medical center where Craig Fish had his practice.

It was Craig Fish.

“This isn’t earthshaking, since he’s supposed to work at The Clinic,” I said to Briggs.

“Yeah, but why would he go there if there were no patients? He must be checking on someone.”

I drove across town, hit the drive-through window of Cluck-in-a-Bucket, ordered too much food, and stopped off at the office with a tub of assorted chicken parts and a bag of artery-clogging biscuits.

“Hey,” Lula said. “It’s Shortstuff.”

“Hey,” Briggs said. “It’s Fatso.”

I put the food on Connie’s desk and got a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Anything new?” I asked.

“Vinnie’s in a state over Elwood Pitch.”

“He’s not the only one,” Briggs said. “My job’s on the line.”

I took a piece of chicken. “Morelli’s working on it.”

My phone rang. It was Ranger.

“Babe,” Ranger said. “The bridal salon woman called me again. Why is she calling me and not you?”

“Because she doesn’t have my number?”

“I’ll get even,” Ranger said.

I actually was loving it. “What did she want?”

“She wanted me to remind you to pick up your dress.”

Lula, Connie, and Briggs were watching me when I dropped my phone back into my bag.

“Who was that?” Lula wanted to know.

“Ranger.”

“That explains the smile,” Lula said. And she selected another piece of chicken.

I ate a piece of chicken and a biscuit, and I was thinking it might be a good idea to stop at the bakery on the way to the bridal salon. A donut would be the perfect ending to a really deliciously crappy lunch.

I loaded Briggs into the Rangeman SUV, we made a quick stop at the bakery, and I left him eating donuts in the car while I ran into the bridal salon.

Mary DeLorenzo brought the dress from the back room. “Let’s just try it on to make sure everything is perfect,” she said.

“No time,” I told her. “Things to do. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“You really should try it on,” Mary said. “It’s such an important occasion.”

“I’ll try it on at home. Promise.” I grabbed the massive zippered bag and rushed to the door. I couldn’t resist the opportunity and turned back toward Mary DeLorenzo. “Be sure to call Ranger and tell him I picked the dress up,” I told her.

I tossed the heavy plastic bag into the backseat and slid behind the wheel.

“Did you ever check the morgue and the funeral homes to see if either of these guys turned up?” Briggs said. “Maybe we should take a walk along the river and make sure they’re not washed up and lying there.”

“I’m sure Morelli’s checked the morgue. And Grandma would know if they were in a funeral home.”

“What about the river?”

I glanced at him. “Do you want me to drop you off so you can check it out for yourself?”

“You’d drive away and leave me there, and I’d get mugged.”

This was all true. “I’m going to take you back to your car, and my advice is to go home and take a nap. If I get any breaking news I’ll call you. Promise.”

A lot of skip tracing is done on the phone and computer. For the most part Connie does the phone and Internet work and I do the legwork. I have some search programs on my computer, but Connie’s programs are better. For lack of something better to do I ran Geoffrey Cubbin and Elwood Pitch through the system on my computer to see if anything new showed up. I got a big zero, and I was surfing Pinterest when Morelli dropped in.

“I got off work and thought I’d stop by to see if I’d missed any rocket or firebomb events,” he said.

“You missed a bucket of fried chicken. It was the high point in my day.”

Morelli sat across the table from me. “I went deeper on Franz Sunshine and found some interesting things. He has similar clinics in four other states. He owns two midsize jets. And he’s the primary on seven different holding companies.”

“Success isn’t a crime.”

“He’s operating five businesses at a loss, but he can afford to keep two jets in the air.”

“What about FS Financials?”

“It’s in the black but it doesn’t show the kind of profit that would offset his other expenses and losses.”

“Creative bookkeeping?”

Morelli shrugged. “Hard to say, but it’s one more reason to suspect The Clinic.”

“Do you want me to go in with guns blazing? Briggs thinks Pitch is in there. It’s probably enough justification for me to enter.”

“No! Let me see if I can dredge up a search warrant.” He looked at his watch and stood. “I have to get home to let Bob out. Do you want to do something for dinner tonight?”

“I have the rehearsal dinner tonight.”

“That’s still on?”

“Unfortunately.”

Morelli looked like he was contemplating cuffing me and locking me up somewhere. “And the wedding is tomorrow?”

“Yep. What are you doing tomorrow?” I asked him.

“Shopping for a new car,” Morelli said.

“That’s almost as bad as being in a wedding.”

Morelli opened the front door to leave and Brody Logan was there. Logan shrieked and ran away down the stairs.

“What the hell was that?” Morelli said.

“Brody Logan. He wants Tiki.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“Define a lot.”

Morelli dragged me up against him and kissed me.

“Was that a lot of a kiss?” I asked.

“Not as a lot as I’d like it to be.”

I watched Morelli walk down the hall, and I closed and locked my door. Moving on to the next activity, I thought. Dinner with Ranger.

Ranger let himself into my apartment a little before seven o’clock. He was wearing black slacks, a black blazer, and a black dress shirt. He was perfectly tailored and pressed, and the cut of his blazer hid the black Glock at the small of his back.

I was pretty much matching in a black skirt, white silky blouse, and black jacket.

“I was told you picked your dress up from the bridal salon,” Ranger said.

“I thought you’d want to know.”

He smiled at me. “It made my day.”

Ranger doesn’t smile all that often so it’s always either really wonderful or stone cold scary. This smile was a mixture of both.

I had a little black leather purse hanging from my shoulder. Ranger hooked his finger under the strap, tested the weight, and returned it to my shoulder. It was heavy enough to hold the Ruger.

I told Rex and Tiki I’d be back in a little while. I got to the door and hesitated.

“They’ll be fine,” Ranger said. “He’s not going to hit your apartment again. He’s already done that. Orin is going to kick i t up a notch. He was the kind of guy who tortured bugs, pulling their legs and wings off one at a time. It was like foreplay for Orin, leading up to the kill. We were all thrill junkies but Orin was pathological. He got his thrills from the fear and suffering of his victims. He liked the kill but it was almost anticlimactic for him.”

“Are you sure it’s Orin?”

“Yes. He left a message on my phone this morning. I recognized his voice. He said it was time for him to come out of the shadows. He laughed his crazy Orin laugh, and he said I would see him soon.”

“Did he say why he wasn’t dead?”

“No. It wasn’t part of the message.”

“Do you want to tell me the rest of the message?”

“You’d rather not know.”

I was sure this was true. I didn’t even want to know what I already knew. I could have done without the whole ripping-wings-off analogy.

“Did he say why he was doing this now?”

“Only that the road here wasn’t easy but he’d finally made it.”

“Was he this crazy when you were serving together?”

“There were signs. Orin was a good man to have on your side and a very bad enemy. We all slept with one eye open, not just for whatever was out there but for Orin.”

“The life you have now must seem tame compared to that.”

“It has its moments. I had to talk to the bridal salon lady twice today.”

He had his hand at my back, guiding me down the hall to the elevator and out of the building to his Porsche 911 Turbo. I suspected the car was brand-new. Hard to tell since it was identical to the last one, but its paint was unmarred, and it was lacking the aroma of horked-up cocktail wieners and meatballs.