Notorious Nineteen

window of Cluck-in-a-Bucket, ordered too much food, and stopped offat the office with a tub of assorted chicken parts and a bag of artery-clogging biscuits.
    “Hey,” Lula said. “It’s Shortstuff.”
    “Hey,” Briggs said. “It’s Fatso.”
    I put the food on Connie’s desk and got a bottle of water out of the fridge.
    “Anything new?” I asked.
    “Vinnie’s in a state over Elwood Pitch.”
    “He’s not the only one,” Briggs said. “My job’s on the line.”
    I took a piece of chicken. “Morelli’s working on it.”
    My phone rang. It was Ranger.
    “Babe,” Ranger said. “The bridal salon woman called me again. Why is she calling me and not you?”
    “Because she doesn’t have my number?”
    “I’ll get even,” Ranger said.
    I actually was loving it. “What did she want?”
    “She wanted me to remind you to pick up your dress.”
    Lula, Connie, and Briggs were watching me when I dropped my phone back into my bag.
    “Who was that?” Lula wanted to know.
    “Ranger.”
    “That explains the smile,” Lula said. And she selected another piece of chicken.
    I ate a piece of chicken and a biscuit, and I was thinking it might be a good idea to stop at the bakery on the way to the bridal salon. A donut would be the perfect ending to a really deliciously crappy lunch.
    I loaded Briggs into the Rangeman SUV, we made a quick stop at the bakery, and I left him eating donuts in the car while I ran into the bridal salon.
    Mary DeLorenzo brought the dress from the back room. “Let’s just try it on to make sure everything is perfect,” she said.
    “No time,” I told her. “Things to do. I’m sure it’s fine.”
    “You really should try it on,” Mary said. “It’s such an important occasion.”
    “I’ll try it on at home. Promise.” I grabbed the massive zippered bag and rushed to the door. I couldn’t resist the opportunity and turned back toward Mary DeLorenzo. “Be sure to call Ranger and tell him I picked the dress up,” I told her.
    I tossed the heavy plastic bag into the backseat and slid behind the wheel.
    “Did you ever check the morgue and the funeral homes to see if either of these guys turned up?” Briggs said. “Maybe we should take a walk along the river and make sure they’re not washed up and lying there.”
    “I’m sure Morelli’s checked the morgue. And Grandma would know if they were in a funeral home.”
    “What about the river?”
    I glanced at him. “Do you want me to drop you off so you can check it out for yourself?”
    “You’d drive away and leave me there, and I’d get mugged.”
    This was all true. “I’m going to take you back to your car, and my advice is to go home and take a nap. If I get any breaking news I’ll call you. Promise.”
    A lot of skip tracing is done on the phone and computer. For the most part Connie does the phone and Internet work and I do the legwork. I have some search programs on my computer, but Connie’s programs are better. For lack of something better to do I ran Geoffrey Cubbin and Elwood Pitch through the system on my computer to see if anything new showed up. I got a big zero, and I was surfing Pinterest when Morelli dropped in.
    “I got off work and thought I’d stop by to see if I’d missed any rocket or firebomb events,” he said.
    “You missed a bucket of fried chicken. It was the high point in my day.”
    Morelli sat across the table from me. “I went deeper on Franz Sunshine and found some interesting things. He has similar clinics in four other states. He owns two midsize jets. And he’s the primary on seven different holding companies.”
    “Success isn’t a crime.”
    “He’s operating five businesses at a loss, but he can afford to keep two jets in the air.”
    “What about FS Financials?”
    “It’s in the black but it doesn’t show the kind of profit that would offset his other expenses and losses.”
    “Creative bookkeeping?”
    Morelli shrugged. “Hard to say, but it’s one more reason to suspect The Clinic.”
    “Do you want me to go in with guns blazing? Briggs thinks Pitch is in there. It’s probably enough justification for me to enter.”
    “No! Let me see if I can dredge up a search warrant.” He looked at his watch and stood. “I have to get home to let Bob out. Do you want to do something for dinner tonight?”
    “I have the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
    “That’s still on?”
    “Unfortunately.”
    Morelli looked like he was contemplating cuffing me and locking