Janet Evanovich - Notorious Nineteen

“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 THEmiddle 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.

“Guess there aren’t a lot of ladies getting their fat sucked out today,” Lula said. “Business doesn’t look all that good.”

We went back to the car and sat there.

“What are we waiting for?” Lula asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m waiting for something to happen.”

“Looks to me like that could take a while.”

“I’d like to see what’s in this building.”

“You thinking it could be Cubbin? Like they could have him in here hanging by his thumbs until he tells them where he’s got the money stashed?” Lula said.

“It’s a possibility.”

“I bet I could get us in.”

“Yes, but you’d break something. There’s a keypad on the front door. At four o’clock Nurse Norma is going to show up and punch in her code.”

“And all we have to do is watch and get the code.”

I turned the key in the ignition. “I’m going to move the car to the next lot so Norma doesn’t see it, and then I’m going to come back and find a place where I can see the keypad.”

“You got binoculars?”

“Yep.”

I parked around the corner and left Lula with Tiki. It wasn’t quite two o’clock, so Lula had time for a nap and I had time to investigate some of the other buildings in the area and ask about The Clinic.

I went to FedEx first.

“I’m looking for The Clinic,” I said. “I was told it was in this park but I can’t find it.”

“It’s all by itself at the end of the street,” the woman behind the counter said. “If you go out of our lot and turn left and keep going you’ll find it. I’ve never been in it myself, but they drop off here once in a while.”

“I’m applying for a job there and the ad was vague. What kind of a place is it? The ad just said they were looking for a med tech.”

“I don’t know what they do. They won’t ship anything for months, and then they’ll send out a bunch of cold packs and that’ll be it. Probably they use other shipping companies.”

Myron Cryo Industries was The Clinic’s closest neighbor. Myron was in a large sleek black glass cube, separated from The Clinic by a clump of trees and shrubs. The lobby was high-gloss onyx and polished chrome. The guy working the reception desk was in a suit that had me thinking he moon-lighted at a Holiday Inn.