Notorious Nineteen

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.”
    “How could I pass up a deal like that? Where are you?”
    “Mexicana Grill.”
    Ten minutes later Morelli pulled up next to me and snitched some of my nachos.
    “Hey,” I said, “you can’t have any of those until I get a look.”
    Morelli grinned at me. “You’re trashed.”
    “It’s all Tiki’s fault. He told me to do this.”
    “Who’s Tiki?”
    “He’s a sacred carving from Hawaii. It’s a long story.”
    “And Tiki told you to stop at a bar and get trashed?”
    “Yes! He made it sound like a good idea.”
    Morelli paid my tab, wrapped an arm around me, and hauled me off my bar stool. “Where’s Tiki now?”
    “In my car. He wanted to come into the bar with me but I thought that was too weird.”
    Morelli walked me to my car and looked in at Tiki. “This is the guy who suggested the bar?”
    “I know he looks innocent enough, but he’s diabolical.”
    “He’s a chunk of wood.”
    I unlocked the Buick, unbuckled Tiki, and handed him to Morelli. “He’s also my ticket to Brody Logan. Logan wants Tiki back. So instead of trying to chase down Logan, all I have to do is wait for him to come for Tiki.”
    “Clever. Did Tiki tell you that?”
    “No. I thought of that all by myself.”
    Morelli unlocked his SUV. “We’ll pick the Buick up tomorrow morning. Who thought about ripping my clothes off, you or Tiki?”
    “It might have been me. And you still haven’t let me look at your underwear.”
    Morelli held the door for me. “As soon as we get in the car.”
    “Do I get to touch things?”
    “Oh yeah. Touching is encouraged.”

ELEVEN
    IT WAS SUNDAY morning, and Morelli and I were at his little kitchen table enjoying a leisurely breakfast of coffee and leftover Chinese takeout. Morelli isn’t opposed to sleeping over in my apartment, but truth is, it works better for us to be in his house. My hamster, Rex, is self-sufficient with his water bottle and cache of food. Bob, not so much. Morelli has a yard for Bob plus a twenty-five-pound bag of dog kibble. Morelli also has a toaster and food in his refrigerator.
    Morelli was always the bad boy wild child, and I was always the mostly good girl. Not to say I didn’t have my moments in high school. And I for sure was never as good as my sister, Valerie. Still, an odd reversal took place when I wasn’t looking,