Notorious Nineteen (12 page)

Ranger’s low-slung Porsche 911 eased around the corner and glided to a curbside stop. I scooped Tiki up and wedged him into the small cargo area behind the seats.

“Garage sale?” Ranger asked, looking at Tiki.

I buckled myself in. “It’s a Hawaiian wood carving put up for bond. I’m carrying it around because Vinnie thinks it encourages bad behavior and doesn’t want it in the office.”

Ranger’s attention turned to me. “How about you? Is it encouraging bad behavior in
you
?”

“It might be.”

Ranger’s mouth tipped into a smile.

“That’s an evil smile,” I said to him.

“You’re at your best when you’re a little bad, babe.”

I felt a rush of heat remembering times spent with Ranger. “A distant memory,” I said, trying to sound aloof but pretty sure I wasn’t pulling it off. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Kinsey’s warehouse was firebombed last night.”

“I read about it in the paper. The article said one of your men was burned.”

“He was inside, checking on an alarm. Whoever fired off the rocket knew he was in there. The Rangeman SUV was parked at the door.”

“Is your man going to be okay?”

“Yes. It could have been worse. Second-degree burns on his arms. The other burns were superficial.”

“Do you have any idea yet who’s doing this?”

“No. The code was secret but it’s been years since the unit was disbanded. Someone might have had too much to drink and talked too much. Someone might have shared his life story with a woman and not thought anything of it. My instincts tell me one of the men is involved, but it’s not a given fact.”

“It’s someone clever,” I said. “This person knew you were going to be at the dinner. And they knew when your man would be inside the warehouse. Could it be someone inside Rangeman?”

“It’s possible. More likely it’s someone who knows how to listen or hack into a system. Everyone in my unit had access to that technology.”

“Could someone hack into
your
system?”

“Not easily.” Ranger swung into my apartment building lot and parked next to the Buick. “Rehearsal and dinner is seven o’clock on Friday. The wedding is at four on Saturday. You need to be careful. It’s hard for anyone to get past my security, so there’s a possibility this person will go after people close to me who are more vulnerable.”

I wrestled Tiki out of the Porsche. “Understood. Thanks for the ride.”

Ranger leaned across the seat and snagged my wrist. “I’m giving you another opportunity to walk away from this.”

“I can’t do that. I can’t walk away.”

I took Tiki to my apartment and set him on the kitchen counter next to Rex. I gave Rex fresh water and hamster food, added a chunk of carrot, and told him I loved him just in case he was feeling neglected.

I took a shower, dressed in clean clothes, and headed out with Tiki. Lula was already at the bonds office when I arrived.

“What happened to your arm?” she asked.

“Freak accident. Nothing serious.”

“You look annoyed,” Lula said. “Is Tiki getting you into trouble?”

“No. Tiki’s fine. It’s Cubbin. The disappearing thing is gnawing at me. It’s not like he was walking in the woods and disappeared. The guy was in a hospital. There were video cameras. There was limited access. Two nurses were on duty.”

“How about if one of the nurses sneaked him out,” Lula said.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I talked to Norma Kruger, and she didn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling. Problem is, even if Kruger helped him, it doesn’t explain how Cubbin got off the surgical floor, or why he wasn’t picked up on camera. Briggs and the police looked at the tapes.”

“Kruger could be a magician, and she could have given Cubbin the Cloak of Invisibility,” Lula said. “Harry Potter had one of those. I saw it in the movies.”

“That would be a long shot,” I said to Lula.

“Even so, we could go snoop on her,” Lula said.

Connie looked up from her computer. “And you should try Dottie Luchek again. It’s not a high bond but it would be good to clear it.” Her attention shifted to the front window. “It’s Logan again, trying to get into your Buick.”

Connie grabbed a shotgun from the cabinet behind her. Lula whipped out her Glock. And we all ran to the door. Logan turned, went wide-eyed, and took off.

Lula shoved her Glock into the waistband of her spandex skirt. “What we should do is set Tiki out on the sidewalk and give Stephanie a big butterfly net.”

I couldn’t get excited about the butterfly net, but setting a trap for Logan wasn’t a bad idea. I’d think about it after I got Cubbin out of my head.

“I’m going to do a drive-by on Nurse Norma,” I said to Lula.

“I’m with you,” Lula said. “I bet I could tell from looking at her if she had the Cloak of Invisibility.”

I unlocked the Buick and got behind the wheel. “If we get to talk to her, let’s dial back on the Cloak of Invisibility. It’s a little
out there
.”

“Gotcha. You won’t hear anything about it from me. My lips are sealed. I’m locking them shut and throwing away the key.”

“Good.”

“No way will I say anything about the Cloak of Invisibility. Even if she brings it up I’m not joining in the conversation.”

“Good.”

“You’re gonna have to tell me if you want me to say something, ’cause otherwise I’m not saying nothing.”

I did a U-turn when there was a break in the traffic. “When are you going to start saying nothing?”

“When we get to her door. I’m saving myself for then.”

I turned left at Olden and cut across town. I drove into Kruger’s condo complex and crept past her address. The Jag was in the assigned spot. Curtains were drawn.

“We gonna knock on her door?” Lula asked.

“I don’t think so. She looks shut down. She works the night shift so she’s probably sleeping.”

“We should come by at night when she’s working and see if she’s all locked up. You know, just check on everything for her so she don’t get robbed.”

“It would be our civic duty.”

“Damn skippy,” Lula said.

I made a loop around the parking area and noticed a rust-riddled van parked across from Kruger’s apartment. A blond woman was behind the wheel. It was Susan Cubbin.

I parked next to the van and got out. “Stay here,” I said to Lula. “I’ll only be a minute.”

I opened the door to the van and stuck my head in. The cat was sleeping next to Susan, and I could see the kitty litter on the floor behind the seat.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

“I’m looking for my jerk husband, that’s what’s up. What’s up with you?”

“Pretty much the same thing. Why are you parked here?”

“He’s with the nurse. It’s the only explanation. I don’t know how she got him out of the hospital, but she’s got him squirreled away somewhere. Have you seen her? She’s probably made her powder room into a sex dungeon.”

“So you’re following her around?”

“No. I’m watching her condo. I’m waiting for a sign that he’s in there. As soon as I know for sure, I’m going in like gangbusters.”

“Do you have her condo bugged?”

“No. I bought some stuff, but I don’t know how to use it. It didn’t come with instructions.”

Susan Cubbin was almost as good at snooping as Dottie Luchek was at hooking. Which was to say she was no good at all.

“Lula and I went to see you yesterday,” I said to Susan. “The front door was open and there was a big guy with white hair in your house.”

“A realtor?”

“I don’t think so. He looked more like a maniac.”

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” Susan said. “I put that piece of junk up for sale. I’m sure it was a realtor.”

The cat stood, turned around three times, and settled back down.

“How can you be sure Nurse Norma has your husband on ice here?” I asked her. “Maybe she has him someplace else.”

“She doesn’t go anywhere else. She works all the time. If she’s not here then she’s at the hospital or The Clinic. I followed her there the first day. She’s at The Clinic from four in the afternoon until six o’clock.”

“Is this clinic attached to the hospital?”

“No. She’s moonlighting. It’s a private clinic on Deeley Street, and it’s called The Clinic. At least it says ‘The Clinic’ on the sign, but I didn’t see any patients going in or out. It might be one of those research places. There are a lot of them on that Route 1 corridor going to Princeton.”

I gave her my business card again, and I went back to Lula in the Buick.

“Well?” Lula said.

“It’s Susan Cubbin. She’s hunkered down looking for her husband and the five million dollars. She’s got her cat with her and a sleeping bag in the back.”

“Where’s she going potty?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“That would have been my first question,” Lula said. “I’m interested in stuff like that.”

“Have you ever heard of Deeley Street?”

“No, but I can find it on my cellphone.”

Lula tapped the address in and we watched while the phone searched.

“Here it is,” Lula said. “It’s off Route 1. Looks like it’s just before Quaker Bridge Mall. Are we going there? We could stop at Quaker Bridge and get one of them big salty soft pretzels and a Blizzard.”

“That would be great,” I said. “And we could get a couple cheeseburgers.”

“Don’t forget the fries.”

“Do they still make supersize? I need supersize.”

“Drive faster,” Lula said. “I’m about to have the big O just thinking about the fries.”

I reached the mall in record time, parked, and Lula and I jumped out of the car and ran to the food court.

We hit the burger place first, and Lula pulled a wad of money out of her purse. “I want two of everything on your menu,” she said to the girl behind the counter. “And hurry up because I have to put in my order at Dairy Queen and Dunkin’ Donuts.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said. “I want the same.”

The counter girl stared at us. “Am I getting punked?”

“Say what?” Lula said.

“Omigod,” I said to Lula. “What are we doing?” I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the counter. “We’re out of control.”

“I don’t feel out of control,” Lula said.

“Have you ever ordered everything on a menu before?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

“I’m going to the sandwich place and I’m getting a turkey club.”

“That don’t sound like a lot of fun.”

“You can eat whatever the heck you want, but I have to get into a bridesmaid dress on Saturday, and I don’t want to look like a whale.”

Lula tagged after me to the sandwich shop. “Who’s getting married?”

“Ranger’s client. The same one we did security for last Friday.”

“So this is a bridesmaid job? You’re like a undercover bridesmaid. Like in
Miss Congeniality
. Remember that movie? Sandra Bullock was a FBI agent that they made into a beauty queen. I loved that movie.”

I got a turkey club and a bottle of water, and Lula got ham and cheese, a bag of chips, and a soda.

“I think it was Tiki sitting in your backseat that made us crazy for all that food,” Lula said. “You might want to think about giving him back to Logan, on account of he’s going to make us fat.”

Tiki fell into the same category for me as Grandma Bella and Catholicism. I couldn’t bring myself to be a true believer and have complete faith, but I had fear. There was the irrational possibility of the existence of a power beyond my comprehension.

“I can’t give him back. I need the recovery money.”

“Yeah, but Tiki might be more trouble than he’s worth. Money isn’t everything.”

“The only people who say that are people who have enough money to pay the rent.”

We finished eating and went back to the Buick and Tiki.

“Look at him,” Lula said. “He’s smirking. I know smirking when I see it.” She pulled attitude and leaned in to him. “Well
ha ha
on you, because we didn’t eat all that food. We had a nutritious meal of a sandwich.”

“That’s telling him,” I said. “Buckle up and we’ll try to find The Clinic.”

THIRTEEN

IT WAS THE
middle of the day and Route 1 wasn’t especially challenging. No gridlocked traffic. No nutso drivers weaving in and out of lanes trying to cut three minutes off their drive time. No one giving everybody the finger because they had a crapola day at the office. I cruised along, following Lula’s directions.

“It’s coming up,” she said. “Take the next light and you’ll be on Willow, and then turn onto Deeley.”

We were in one of the many light industrial complexes that line the highway. Most of the buildings were medical arts. A plumbing supply company. A FedEx facility. And The Clinic was off by itself at the end of a cul-de-sac. It was a medium to large two-story stucco building painted a sick green. There were no cars in visitor parking. No lights shining from any of the windows. No signs indicating what sort of clinic it might be. I parked to the far side and we sat looking at the building.

“According to Susan Cubbin, Nurse Norma spends two hours a day here,” I said to Lula.

“It’s kind of out of the way of the hospital.”

I called Connie and gave her the address. “See if you can find something called The Clinic.”

Five minutes later Connie called back. “It’s a private clinic for surgical recovery. Usually that means it’s a spa type facility where wealthy men and women can hang after cosmetic procedures like face-lifts and liposuction. Two doctors are listed on staff. Abu Darhmal and Craig Fish.”

“Anything else?”

“I did a superficial search. Do you want me to go deeper?”

“Yes, but there’s no rush.”

I pulled the key out of the ignition. “Let’s go say hello.”

“Okay, but if I get one whiff of hospital cooties I’m out of there.”

I walked to the door and looked inside. Small vestibule. Dark. The front door was locked. I couldn’t see beyond the vestibule.

“You sure Nurse Norma comes here?” Lula asked. “Don’t look like nobody’s home.”

I rang the bell and waited. I rang a second time. Nothing. We walked around the building, but the blinds were drawn and we couldn’t see in any of the windows. An underground garage entrance in the back was sealed off by a roll-down door. There was also a metal fire door in the back. It too was locked.