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I studied him for a moment. It would be good to confide in him and tap in to his expertise. He was smart. And he had more experience than I did. Unfortunately I was about to do something not entirely legal, and I’d compromise his cop ethics if I told him. Not that Morelli didn’t sometimes bend his ethics to suit the occasion. It was more that I never knew when he would bend and when he’d handcuff me to the bedpost to keep me from committing a crime.
“I need to get into a building,” I said. “And it’s locked except for a large drop box for mail.”
“How large is the drop box?”
“About as big as Randy Briggs.”
Morelli’s face creased into a grin. “You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“Why is this building so important?”
“I think Geoffrey Cubbin might be in there.”
“You have reasons for thinking this?”
“Yep.”
“Then why don’t you just break in and announce yourself? You have that privilege as a bail bonds agent.”
“If he’s not in there I want to be able to snoop around.”
“I didn’t hear any of this,” Morelli said. “And I want you to call me when you get home.”
“Deal.”
FOURTEEN
I WAS THE first to get to the FedEx lot. Lula arrived a few minutes after me. Randy Briggs drove up a few minutes after Lula. We all had penlights and pepper spray. We were all dressed in black, just like in the movies. And we all felt sort of stupid. Okay, maybe not Lula, but definitely Briggs and me.
“We’ll go in Lula’s car,” I said. “We’ll park in Myron Cryo’s lot and cut through the band of trees. I drove around the cul-de-sac when I first got here and there are no cars parked in front of The Clinic and no lights shining from any of the windows.”
Lula killed her lights at the entrance to the Cryo lot and glided to a stop close to the greenbelt. We all piled out and crept through the trees and shrubs to the blacktopped driveway that led to The Clinic’s underground garage. There was a single light shining over the garage entrance. And there was a light in a room at the far end of the second floor.
The drop box was next to the roll-down door. The metal fire door was to the other side of the drop box. I opened the drop box door, clicked my penlight on, and took a look inside. It was going to be a tight fit for Briggs.
“I’
m not crazy about this,” Briggs said. “What if I get stuck? What if I get caught?”
“If you get caught just tell them some college kids kid-napped you and put you in the box for fun,” Lula said. “Probably happens all the time to you little people.”
“I got a gun,” Briggs said to Lula. “I could shoot you.”
“You don’t scare me,” Lula said. “My gun’s bigger than your gun.”
“Oh yeah?” Briggs said. “Haul it out and we’ll see who’s got the bigger gun.”
“Jeez Louise!” I said. “Here we go with the gun stuff again. Stop the gun stuff! There’s no gun stuff!”
“She don’t understand the joys of shooting,” Lula said to Briggs.
“She hasn’t got enough rage,” Briggs said. “She needs more rage.”
“You’re going to see rage if you don’t stop talking and get in the box,” I said to Briggs.
“Alley-oop,” Lula said, lifting Briggs up and sliding him in feetfirst.
