Notorious Nineteen

market.”
    “Why were you in Cubbin’s house?” I asked him.
    “Looking for his money. He said he had money hid there but I couldn’t find it.”
    “He was trying to buy his way out of donating his heart?”
    “Something like that,” the Yeti said.
    “Let’s move this along,” Sunshine said. “We’re all going down to the garage now. Hands on your heads. Single file. If anything bothersome happens John will shoot you.”
    So the Yeti’s name was John.
    We followed instructions and walked down the hall to the lobby. We shuffled into the elevator and lined up against the wall. The Yeti was steely-eyed with the assault rifle trained onus. Morelli was wearing his cop face. No emotion. Watching the Yeti. Waiting for his moment.
    I was still wearing Ranger’s GPS watch. I had my hands on my head, one hand over my wrist, and I pushed the audio button. No one seemed to notice. I couldn’t see the watch face, but I hoped I was sending.
    The elevator doors opened onto the garage and we exited, hands still on our heads. The white van and a black Mercedes were parked side by side, noses to the wall.
    “You’re going to turn and walk to the far side of the garage,” Sunshine said. “Walk very carefully. John is known to have a short fuse when he feels threatened.”
    I knew this to be true. He’d zapped me with the stun gun, and I hadn’t seen it coming.
    We got to the end of the garage, and I realized there was a door that I hadn’t noticed before. It had another of the number-sequenced locks on it, and it looked like a door to a vault.
    Sunshine punched in six numbers, the door released, he pulled it open, and cold air rushed out at us. I sensed Morelli shift foot to foot. He wasn’t liking what he saw.
    “What is this?” I asked, hoping Ranger was listening.
    “It’s a freezer,” Sunshine said. “Convenient for storing bodies until we can arrange disposal. Because we’re short-staffed right now and can’t sedate the three of you, we’ll slow your respiration for a few hours. When Dr. Fish returns you’ll be barely alive, but hopefully some of your organs will be usable.”
    He flipped a switch and a light went on in the freezer. It was commercial grade. Possibly originally designed as a morgue or maybe a walk-in for Shop n Bag. Sunshine took the rifle from the Yeti and motioned for him to go into the freezer.
    “Haul them out,” Sunshine said.
    The Yeti went in and came out with a black plastic body bag. Whatever was in it was frozen solid and about 5'10". The Yeti lifted the bag and carried it to the van. He got a second frozen bag, struggled a little under the weight, and shoved it into the back of the van as well.
    “Pitch and Cubbin?” Morelli asked.
    Sunshine didn’t answer. He handed the rifle over to the Yeti. “In you go,” Sunshine said to Morelli.
    Morelli lunged for the rifle, and the Yeti shot him in the leg.
    I screamed, the Yeti hit me in the stomach with the rifle butt, and I crumpled to the ground unable to breathe.
    “I don’t want to go in there,” Briggs said. “I’m too young. I’m not ready. I’m diseased. I’ve got everything. Herpes and warts. My liver’s crap.”
    The Yeti herded Morelli and Briggs in and slammed the door shut. I was still lying on the cement floor.
    “Get up,” Sunshine said. “You’re going with us in case we need a hostage.”
    “Why would you need a hostage?” I asked.
    “Your boyfriend is a cop. I don’t know if he was stupidly acting alone or if this was a planned operation.”
    The Yeti dragged me up to my feet and prodded me with the rifle. “Move.”
    We reached the van and Sunshine bound my hands at the wrist with electrician’s tape. I couldn’t stop from rolling my eyes. Jeez Louise, I thought, how many times in one day can this happen?
    We all got into the van, Sunshine driving and the Yeti holding the gun on me. We motored out of the garage and down the driveway. I didn’t see any Rangeman cars.
    “Where are we going?” I asked.
    “The cemetery, of course,” the Yeti said. “It’s not like we’re animals. We give everyone a decent burial.”
    Sunshine went north on Route 1 for about a mile and then turned in to what I saw from a sign was the Sunshine Memorial Park. The cemetery gate opened, Sunshine drove through, and the gate closed behind us.
    “One of my many holdings,” Sunshine said. “This used to be farmland but I got it for taxes. Turns out there’s more money in death than in cows.”
    I’d