him to the locker room.
“This is the ladies’ locker room,” the attendant said. “You can’t bring him in here.”
“Wait here,” I said to Lula.
I went to our locker and got dressed in record time. I took twenty dollars out of my purse, gave it to the attendant, and she happened to be looking the other way when we dragged Beasley into the locker room.
Lula got dressed, and we stood there looking at Beasley. We couldn’t take him out onto the boardwalk or through the casino naked, and we didn’t want to go into the men’s locker room to get his clothes.
“Only thing we got here is towels,” Lula said. “We could make him a diaper but I don’t know how to hold it together.”
“Garbage bag,” I said. “Have the attendant open the broom closet and give you a big green trash bag.”
Lula came back with the garbage bag, we tore a hole in the top, got Beasley up on his feet, and pulled the bag over his head. It came to about two inches below his privates.
“Lucky for us he’s not hung like some of the old folks out there,” Lula said. “Some of them would need a bag that comes to their knees.”
We walked Beasley to the car and strapped him in next to Tiki.
“I got sand in my lady parts,” Lula said. “Whoever thought a naked beach was a good idea never sat in one.”
NINETEEN
I BROUGHT BEASLEY into the police station and ran into Morelli.
“I was just going to call you,” Morelli said.
“I’ve been busy.”
“So I see. Your FTA’s dressed in a garbage bag, you have sand in your hair, and you smell like a pina colada.”
“The guy I just handed over was a bartender at a nudie beach, and he threw a drink at me.”
“You took him down on a nudie beach?”
“Yeah. Lula and me.”
Morelli grinned. “Did you and Lula join in the fun?”
“We didn’t have much choice. They wouldn’t let us on the beach with our clothes on.”
“Both of you full monty?”
“Yep.”
“I’m a little turned on,” Morelli said.
“I hate to disappoint you but it wasn’t all that sexy. I have sand
Someone stuck his head out of a room down the hall and yelled for Morelli.
“Coming!” Morelli yelled back. “I’ll pick you up at your apartment at six o’clock,” he said to me. “We can catch a fast burger and then talk to Mickey Zigler.”
I dropped Lula at the office and continued on home. I brought Tiki into the apartment with me, set him on the couch, and turned the television on. I got into the shower and realized I’d turned the television on for a chunk of wood.
At a little before six I went downstairs to wait for Morelli. I stood in the lobby, where I felt relatively safe, and I called Ranger.
“Just checking in,” I said. “I got another note tacked to my door this morning. Anything new with you?”
“More messages. This freak has a lot of anger.”
“Me too,” I said. “I tried my bridesmaid dress on today. It’s pink. And it has a big bow over my ass.”
I could sense Ranger’s smile over the phone. “Looking forward to seeing it.”
And he hung up.
After a couple minutes Morelli rolled into the lot, and I ran out to his SUV.
“Do you want to eat first or talk to Zigler first?” Morelli asked me.
“Let’s get Zigler out of the way.”
Morelli pulled out of the lot and drove toward Hamilton Avenue. “That would be my choice too.”
“How did it go with the nurses?” I asked him.
“Julie Marconni is a zombie. She’s a single mother who works the night shift and then goes home to take care of her three kids.”
“Who’s with the kids at night?”
“She has a roommate who teaches eighth grade. On the surface it sounds like a good arrangement, but Julie Marconni is a burnout. She was cleaning the house when I got there and she was dead on her feet. I suspect she sleeps a lot on the job. She’s responsible for half the patients on the fourth floor, and none of her patients have gone missing.”
“All the missing patients were Kruger’s?”
“Yeah. Three years’ worth of missing patients.” Morelli stopped for a light. “I asked Kruger if she worked other jobs, and she said once in a while she took on a private client. I asked her if she worked at The Clinic and she said she spent a couple hours there five days a week but she really didn’t do anything. She said if The Clinic ever got up and running she would be guaranteed a supervisory position.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Yes, but I also think there’s something bad going on, and Kruger’s up to her armpits in it. She has a defensive posture when she’s questioned, and things aren’t adding up in her favor.”
“Did she offer to give you a back rub?”
“No. She wasn’t friendly. It was a short conversation.”
“I would have given you a back rub,” I said to Morelli. “I like the way your jeans fit. And I like your shirt when it’s open at the neck a little like this.”
I leaned in and kissed him just below his ear and above the shirt collar.
Morelli dragged me across the console and kissed me. Lots of tongue. His hand under my shirt. The driver behind us leaned on his horn, and Morelli broke from the kiss and moved forward.
“We could turn around and go back to your apartment,” he said.
I retreated to my seat and stuffed myself back into my bra. “Is Zigler expecting you?”
“Yeah,” he said on a sigh. “And Briggs is waiting for us.”
“Then let’s get the job done.”
“My jeans aren’t fitting all that great right now,” Morelli said.
I noticed.
Briggs was in his office waiting for us with Mickey Zigler. Zigler was in his fifties. Gray hair in a buzz cut, barrel-chested, bloodshot eyes.
“Sit,” Morelli said.
We all sat.
“What’s your routine on the night shift?” Morelli asked Zigler.
“I make the rounds every hour. Between the rounds I watch the monitors. We got them all over the building and in the parking areas.”
“That’s a lot of monitors to watch,” Morelli said.
“Not so much at night,” Zigler told him. “Nothing happens. Once in a while we get something coming into the emergency room but usually they go to St. Francis. Especially if it’s a shooting. St. Francis specializes in gunshot wounds. Mostly what I see is pigeons walking around in the lot. And sometimes kids making out in the parking garage.”
“Who watches the monitors when you’re making the rounds?” Morelli asked him.
Briggs answered. “No one. It’s like that during the day too. There’s no money in the security budget for two guys on a shift.”
“So if someone knows when security is on the second floor and the nurses are sleeping on the surgical floor,
