“Yeah, I have a gun,” Briggs said.
“Well, if you get caught you can shoot someone,” Morelli said. “If we hear shooting we’ll call the police.”
“Don’t pay attention to him,” I said to Briggs. “Just be careful and you’ll be fine.”
I went to the drop box and opened it. “Okay,” I said to Morelli, “pick him up and stuff him in.”
Morelli looked at the drop box and looked at Briggs. “You’re not going to tell anyone I did this, right? Blood oath. Sworn to secrecy.”
“Just stuff him in,” I said.
Morelli picked Briggs up and slid him into the drop box. I closed the box, there was some banging, and then there was quiet. I opened the box and looked in. Empty.
“He’s inside,” I said to Morelli.
“This is freaky,” Morelli said. “What do we do now?”
“We wait.”
Morelli wrapped an arm around me. “Want to make out?”
“No! Suppose something goes wrong and the Yeti comes out after us. If we’re making out you might not be able to run.”
“Why not?”
“You know . . .”
“I can run like that,” Morelli said. “I can jump out of second-story windows like that. I had a lot of experience when I was in high school.”
We waited for five minutes but didn’t see any sign of Briggs. Ten minutes. No Briggs.
“I’m worried,” I said to Morelli.
“Do you want me to try to stuff you into the drop box?”
“Try the door. Maybe he opened it before he wandered away.”
Morelli tried the door and it opened.
“This is illegal entry,” Morelli said.
“Only for you,” I told him. “I have rights.”
I stepped inside the dimly lit garage and let my eyes adjust. There were four cars parked. White panel van, black Escalade, silver Lexus, red Jaguar.
“Something’s going down,” I said to Morelli. “All the players are here. Maybe we should call the police.”
“I’m the police.”
“I was thinking it might be better to have guys in uniform.”
“What are you going to say to the guys in uniform? Are you going to tell them I shoved Briggs into the drop box and he didn’t come out so you want them to bust the
door down?”
“Of course not. I’ll think up a fib.”
“I can do better than that.”