“Tonight.”
“I’m in,” Lula said. “I don’t want to miss this.”
I stopped at the hospital on the way back to the office. Lula waited in the car and I ran in to see Briggs.
“Are you nuts?” Briggs said when I explained my plan. “I’m not doing that. And by the way it’s demeaning. How would you like to be stuffed into a drop box?”
“I wouldn’t fit,” I said.
Briggs narrowed his eyes at me. “I bet I could get you in.”
“Let’s not get nasty over this. You lost a patient, and I’m offering to help you.”
Briggs took a moment. “And you think Cubbin is in The Clinic?”
“It’s possible.”
“Okay. I’ll do it, but I swear if you ever tell anyone you stuffed me into a drop box I’ll shoot you.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you in the FedEx parking lot at nine o’clock.”
I returned to the car and plugged the key into the ignition.
“Well?” Lula asked. “What did he say?”
“He’s going to do it.”
“Wow, just like that?”
“He said he’d shoot me if I told anyone we stuffed him into a drop box. What’s with all this shooting stuff? Have you noticed there’s a lot of shooting going on? Something should be done about it.”
“Like what?”
“We should stop shooting people! There has to be a better way to solve a problem.”
“I guess,” Lula said. “But personally, I like shooting someone once in a while. Nothing serious. Like maybe just shooting someone in the little toe. I’ve done that a couple times.”
I cut my eyes to the rearview mirror and glanced at Tiki. He was still strapped in and he looked benign, but I didn’t trust him. I thought he might be encouraging thoughts of shooting.
Connie was packing up to leave when we got back to the office. “The black Escalade belongs to Abu Darhmal, the second doctor listed at The Clinic. Darhmal is forty years old and has a Ph.D. in biochemistry from the University of Maryland. No medical degree that I could find. He’s originally from Somalia. Looks to me like he has a green card but isn’t a U.S. citizen. I could find no address other than The Clinic. He taught at college level before settling in at The Clinic four years ago. No wife or other dependents. He was accused of human trafficking four years ago but was acquitted. Probably why he left academia.” Connie handed me the report.
“Maybe Nurse Norma is doing Dr. Darhmal,” Lula said.
“She’d have to do him fast,” I said. “He left immediately after she got there.”
“The Clinic is even sketchier,” Connie said. “It’s listed as a medical recovery facility, but that’s it. No hours of operation. A phone number that goes directly to voicemail. It’s owned by a holding company. Franz Sunshine Enterprises. Franz Sunshine is the president. He’s also president of FS Financials. Sunshine bought the Clinic building at auction four years ago. Its assessed assets come to just under five hundred thousand dollars. That’s not a lot for a viable business.”
Connie gave me that file as well. “I’m out of here,” she said. “There’s a glass of wine waiting for me somewhere.”
“I’m out of here too,” Lula said.
I checked my watch. It was almost six o’clock. Too late to try the bridesmaid dress on for size. I’d have to do it tomorrow. I left the bonds office and drove to my parents’ house.
“Just in time for dinner,” Grandma said when I strolled into the kitchen.
“That was my plan,” I said, setting Tiki onto the kitchen table.
My mother was spooning mashed potatoes into a bowl. “What is that?” she asked. “It looks like a totem pole.”