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Notorious Nineteen(30)

By:Janet Evanovich


“You’ll be on the payroll,” Ranger said.

“You couldn’t pay me enough.”

“Babe, everyone has a price.”

I locked eyes with him. “What about you? Do you get to be a bridesmaid too?”

“I’m the best man.”

I was momentarily speechless. “Were you always the best man?”

“Yes.”

“Holy cats.”

“Can we get serious? Get past the deal with the dress? Kinsey has asked me to help with security for the wedding. As a professional I agree that it would be a smart move to include you in the bridal party. As someone who is very fond of you and has already gotten you poisoned, I’m not entirely excited about the idea. If you feel uncomfortable doing this for reasons that go beyond the dress I’ll understand. Whether or not you take this assignment has to be your choice.”

“If I get poisoned again I want a bonus.”

“Deal. The wedding is next Saturday.” He handed me a card. “The dress will need to be fitted. Here’s the address of the bridal salon. Sooner would be better than later.”

A text message came in on his phone, he turned on his heel, got into his Porsche, and drove off.

I looked at Tiki in the backseat. “Do not say anything.”

I shoved the card into my back pocket and drove to Norma Kruger’s condo complex. The two-story faux Colonial buildings were originally designed as apartment units. The buildings had been converted to condos when mortgage money was easy to get, and now in a more difficult economy I was guessing a lot of the units were being rented out. From what I could tell each unit had two parking spaces assigned by house number. Most of the spaces were empty. This was a complex of young professionals who were working at this time of day. Except for Norma Kruger, who worked the night shift. A red Jaguar convertible occupied Norma’s parking space. I pulled in next to the Jag and cut the engine. I walked to the door and rang the bell.

Norma Kruger answered with a raised eyebrow. Not overjoyed to see me. Suspicious of my intent. Possibly I looked like I was selling religion door-to-door.

“What?” she asked.

“I’d like to talk to you about Geoffrey Cubbin.”

“Are you a cop?”

“Bond enforcement.”

She gave a bark of laughter. “You mean like Dog the Bounty Hunter? Aren’t you supposed to be decked out in leather?”

“We don’t all dress like Dog,” I said.

“How disappointing.”

Norma Kruger was pretty in a hard-as-nails dominatrix kind of way. She had shoulder-length very blond hair, parted in the middle, tortured into waves, tucked behind her ears. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and she obviously didn’t need a bra to keep her boobs in perfect position and looking perky.

“I’m told you were the night nurse on duty when Cubbin disappeared.”

“Is this going somewhere?”

“I’m trying to get a grip on how he got out of the hospital.”

“You and everyone else. All I know is I saw him at two A.M. and he was gone at six A.M.”

“Did you talk to him when you saw him at two?”

“No. He was sleeping. I didn’t wake him.”

“People don’t just disappear into thin air,” I said. “How many people were working on that floor between two and six?”

“Two nurses. Julie Marconni was with me. She was working the other side of the hall.”

“And she didn’t see anything either.”

“Nope.”

“I understand Cubbin was Craig Fish’s patient.”

“Almost everyone is Dr. Fish’s patient. He keeps busy.”

“Is he a good doctor?”

“He hasn’t personally operated on me, but I’m told he’s excellent.”

I gave Norma my card. “If you think of anything that might be helpful I’d appreciate a call.”

“Sure.”

I returned to the Buick and rolled out of the condo complex.

“That was supremely unhelpful,” I said to Tiki. “She told me nothing new. And I didn’t get any special vibes from her on Craig Fish. This is getting discouraging.”

Tiki had no words of wisdom, so I thought I might find inspiration in a bottle of wine. Or even better I could stop at Mexicana Grill on the way home and have a margarita. Free up the old brain cells, right?

Halfway through the margarita I was thinking a second margarita would be great. And I actually was feeling a little amorous, so I called Morelli.

“Hi there, hot stuff,” I said. “I’m in a bar and I want to get you naked.”

“Exactly how many drinks have you had?”

“One. And one more on the way. And I’m going to order nachos, which I’ll share if you let me see your underwear.”