by Lori Avocato
Gulp.
I took the remote, turned on the TV and the VCR and held my breath even longer.
The screen turned royal blue. I figured my lips would soon be that same shade if I didn’t take a deep breath. I did and then the screen flickered, fuzzed and then brightly colored packages of condoms filled the picture. I thought I’d been looking at Leo and Billy—but apparently not.
Jagger turned to me.
I refused to blush. “Hey, I was in a pharmacy, for crying out loud.”
Then Leo and Billy appeared, arguing. Every once in a while a package of Ortho Tri-Cyclen, Nordette or the Ortho Evra patch would show up in the picture.
That’s when I’d swallow so loudly even Spanky looked up.
The camera kept panning in to them, then to the birth control stuff, then back until I thought I’d get seasick. I had to learn not to keep looking away when I had on those glasses.
The screen turned blue after several minutes.
“That’s all you took?”
“I . . . I didn’t want them to see me. Besides, that was good stuff. Maybe Billy killed Leo because he was gouging the price of Viagra. What the hell would a kid his age want with Viagra anyway?” I really didn’t want an answer to that, I realized, when Jagger turned to me. “Something illegal?”
“Kids use it to enhance the effects of Ecstasy. Mostly at Rave parties. Sustains an erection . . .”
I know Jagger was talking. His lips were still moving. But my Catholic-induced conscience had shut down my hearing.
Erections!
I was sitting in my living room with a guy fantasies are made about (at least mine were), and he’s talking erections.
Maybe I should go back to nursing.
Jagger had left last night soon after the viewing of my surveillance tape, but not before a snide comment about seasickness, and the photos weren’t any better. Good thing he’d left, ’cause I couldn’t have sat there staring at him much longer. There was something that tested my self-control each time I was alone with him. Something I wasn’t getting any better at ignoring.
So, I got up early this morning to meet him at Dunkin Donuts. We’d have a few hours before I had to be at the clinic. I couldn’t imagine what work would be like with Leo’s possible murder hanging over everyone.
I had tossed and turned all night worrying about Hildy. I hoped to hell that she didn’t have anything to do with it. After all, she’d never had a good thing to say about Leo. Then again, I’d heard him being short or snappy to several of the pharmacy staff. Leo didn’t seem to have any friends there. It had dawned on me around midnight: my case with Sophie might come to an end—without my help.
If her stepson was killed, would she continue her illegal claim filing? And how would I “get her” on that?
But the real clinker that stole my beauty sleep was, now that Leo was dead, was Jagger’s case over?
I’d called Goldie around one thirty in the morning not a bit worried that I’d wake him. Goldie was an owl. He required very little sleep and had said I could call him anytime. He’d agreed to meet me at lunchtime to go over some things. It was then I’d decided not to ask Nick for help with work.
After all, we were an “us” now, and pleasure came before business when you were still single at my age.
I did my morning routine, kissed Spanky on his little squirrel head and ran out the door. Today was a beautiful sunny winter day. The old snow from weeks ago had melted, leaving golden yellow grass and twigs of trees to hint at spring. I only wished it would come soon—except for the fact that it would then mean my birthday would have come and gone.
Nick was looking better and better.
On the drive to meet Jagger, I allowed myself to wonder if Nick liked kids.
Why? I had no idea, I told myself when I pulled up next to the black SUV and felt a bit Jagger-induced jittery before my first cup of caffeine.
Jagger already had our order in the car and motioned for me to come sit in the passenger’s seat.
I opened the door, inhaled hazelnut mixed with his scent of male. “Smells good,” I said, taking the coffee into my cold hands. I held the cup a few minutes before taking a sip. I noticed my French cruller sat on the dashboard. “What if I wanted jelly today?”
He looked at me.
Damn. I hated him knowing me so well when he was such an enigma.
“I talked to Shatley. He wants your tape and photos.”
“My tape!” Suddenly I felt scared. “My photos!” It made sense that a homicide investigator would want my surveillance stuff, since I might have been witnessing a pre-murder argument.
And the killer was still at large.
If it got out that I had the stuff and had seen them . . .
“Do I have to give them to him?” I took a large bite of donut that I really didn’t want anymore.
“Why wouldn’t you?” He looked at me. With one finger, he wiped a dollop of sugar from my lip.
Suddenly I forgot what we were talking about.
“Look Sherlock, whoever killed Leo, if, in fact he was killed, more than likely murdered Wisnowski, too.”
That’s right. Murder. We were talking murder. “Right. But if that’s the case, the kid Billy might not be the one.”
“Let Shatley deal with the deaths. Your job is nailing Sophie—before someone bumps her off.”
“Whaaaaaaaat?” I started coughing on a piece of donut. “Do you really think someone will kill her too?” I nearly coughed up my coffee and the cruller bites I didn’t want.
“Sherlock, in this business, anything is possible. You have to start thinking that way.”
“Be suspicious until proven not guilty.”
He took his coffee, looked at me over the rim, and swallowed. “We have to go talk to Shatley now.”
I couldn’t eat another bite.
“Good to see you again, Pauline,” Lieutenant Shatley said, taking my hand in a firm grip.
I smiled, not being able to shake the nervous feeling from being in the police station.
And being questioned about a possible murder.
Why did I feel guilty?
Had to be that old conscience thing again. Someone who had little, if any, conscience wouldn’t be nervous. I sucked it up and answered all of the lieutenant’s questions and gave him my tape and pictures.
They really didn’t help my case anyway.
Truthfully, they really didn’t help Shatley’s case either.
I had to get back to Sophie. Fabio would be calling me any day now, asking for an update. And what could I give him? Sophie is doing something illegal—but I can’t prove it. Sure. That would go over big with my boss.
We said our goodbyes, and Jagger walked me to the parking lot. I’d taken my own car from Dunkin Donuts.
“You all right to drive?”
I looked at him, kneading my fingers inside my mittens. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The look.
“Stop insinuating that I can’t handle myself. I’m fine.” I looked down to see my watch, but had a hard time reading it since my hand shook so.
Jagger reached over and steadied my hand.
“Eight thirty. I have to leave.”
He didn’t let go yet. “Be careful around the clinic today.”
Like I needed that warning! Before he’d said that, I really wasn’t worried. It was a good thing I’d seen the time earlier, because now my watch might go flying off my shaking arm if I tried to look at it.
“I’ll be fine.” I tried to sound convincing, but even I wasn’t buying it. “Jagger, does this mean your case is over?”
“Nope.”
That was it? Nope? He wasn’t going into any detail of why he still had a case. “Do I really need to stay working at the clinic?”
He just grinned.
“Shit. Then I’ll see you around.”
He nodded.
Now I felt better, knowing he would be there in some disguise—to protect me.
She was out sick today.
Damn it. That didn’t look good, and I didn’t even know her home phone number to call and see if she was all right.
I only hoped that she really was sick and not out—to cover up something.
Not much investigating would get done today.
Once the clock hit noon, I was outta there, to meet Goldie at the diner across from the clinic building. I went inside and looked around.
“Suga!” Goldie sat in the last red booth by the window. He’d worn a silver-blonde wig today with a ski jacket, a paisley pink-and-gold ski jacket and matching neon pink leggings. His size elevens were covered in furry pink boots that hit him mid calf. Despite the heat in the diner, he kept on a gold knitted headband over his ears. Beneath dangled lovely gold and diamond earrings matching the bracelet on his right wrist and the rings on every finger of that hand.
That’s my Goldie.
I gave him a big hug. “You feeling better?”
“Heavenly. I’m going back to work next week.”
“That’s great, Gold. I can’t wait. I’ll clean my stuff out of your office.”
“And go where?”
“Good question.” I laughed.
He leaned near. “You’ll stay put.”
I had more on my mind than to argue with such logic.
The waitress came over with two glasses of water. “Coffee?”
Goldie said, “High octane for me.”
“Decaf,” I said.
She scurried away, a stream of cheap rose-scented perfume hanging in her wake.
“So, tell me everything,” he said.
I looked at my watch—and momentarily cringed. Then I filled Goldie in on the case, on Nick and on Jagger.
The waitress came and left with our order. Goldie, the club sandwich without mayo. Me, the tuna with extra mayo, although one might assume by the smell in there that fried food was all they served.
He looked around and leaned close before the waitress came back. “Don’t forget my Jagger warning.”
“I know, Gold. It’s not easy though.”
He shook his head. “Tell me about it, Suga. If it weren’t for Miles, I’d be hunting and pecking around too.”
Hunting and pecking? I barely remembered that I had a date with Nick tonight. “Gold, what do you think of Nick?”
“Not my type, but a doll for you. He’s not macho or ragged, like Jagger. He’s more suave, movie-star handsome. Yeah, suave handsome. That’s Nick. But, Suga, Nick’ll treat you right. I’ve already told you that.”
“I know. How do I get my emotions to know?”
Goldie laughed as the waitress brought our food, set it down and pulled the check off her order book. She put it on the table, turned and left.
We made some small talk over our sandwiches. Goldie really sounded as if he felt much better, and that made me happy. Maybe today was going to be better than yesterday.
Of course, if there were no homicides the rest of the day, it would be even better.
“So, Suga,” Goldie said, dabbing a paper napkin to his bright pink lips. “We need to get you going on your case. Fabio will shit a brick if you don’t give him something to placate him soon. He call you yet?”
“I’ve been avoiding him.” I took a bite of my sandwich and sip of my decaf. “I really have to get on Sophie’s good side. If she was giving Leo insurance numbers, I need to find the proof before the case is over and done with.”
“Back to Peggy Doubtme.”
I groaned, knowing he was right.
Goldie laughed, very ladylike. “What you planning next, Suga?”
“I figure if Sophie was making money with Leo on the Viagra, she may just keep up that end of the business. Maybe she even was selling on the side, too. I hear one pill sells for twenty-five to thirty bucks on the black market. Imagine?”
“Suga, I can imagine. That stuff’s like gold to some of us.”
I blushed, knowing my color made me look like a Raggedy Ann doll. “Gold, you don’t mean—”
He waved his hand. “Not anymore. Not needed with my Miles. Speaking of Miles, Suga . . .” He touched my hand.
“Oh . . . my . . . God, Goldie. What is the matter?”
He squeezed my hand. “Nothing is wrong, Suga. It’s just, well, I promised Miles I’d wait to tell you together, but . . . I just can’t wait!”
My hand turned numb from the pressure. “What is it? You’ve got me all excited!”
“Miles and I are moving in together. He asked me to live at your place.”
Which meant I was now homeless—with no solved case to get paid for—and two dead bodies.
Thirteen
“Suga,” Goldie said with concern in his eyes. “Now don’t you go fretting. You don’t have to move—”
“Gold, I do. You and Miles deserve your privacy. To be together. Alone.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’m thrilled for both of you. And don’t you worry about me.”
I’ll worry enough for the both of us.
And worry I would. I really couldn’t afford a place of my own, didn’t have any other friends I’d care to share a condo with, and knew in my logical mind that the only place I really could go to live was . . .
“I’m so thrilled!” my mother yelled when I went over there after work—and asked for my old room back.
This was the worst day of my life.
Daddy leaned over, setting the morning newspaper to the side, even though it was nearly five. “Pączki, that is nice. It is nice that you’ll be back here with us.”
Uncle Walt looked over from his seat near the television. He winked.
I knew he thought we’d be working on the case of Mr. W’s death together.
This truly was the worst day of my life.
“I have to go.”
“Dinner is almost ready. It’s nearly six.” Mother jumped up, ready to blockade the door.
I decided I wouldn’t put myself through eating any meals here—until the fateful day when I moved back in. “Can’t stay, Mom.”
“Why not?”
I edged past her, bumping into the coffee table, sending a statue of the Blessed Mother careening to the floor. Thank goodness deep shag provided such a nice cushion.
“Look out, Pauline!” Mom tried to catch the statue but without avail. “You could have broken it.”
“Not intentionally. I really have to go.”
“Why the hurry?”
My father had gone back to reading his paper. Uncle Walt’s eyes had shut. And Mom stepped closer.
Shoot. She had some kind of mental telepathy with us kids. She knew when we were lying or at least trying not to tell her something. It was no use. I blurted out, “I have a date to get ready for.” I spun around, hurried to the other side of the table, and tried to make a dash for the door.
She grabbed me as if her arm was rubber, like Stretch Armstrong’s. “A date? A date? And you didn’t tell us? Walt, Michael, did you hear that? She has a date!”
Uncle Walt let out a long snore.
Daddy looked up from his paper and nodded. “That’s nice.”
I sighed. “It’s not like it’s some earth-shattering news, Ma.” She hated when I called her “Ma.”
“That’s Mother, Pauline. And yes it is, when you have a date.”
“Thanks.”
She eased up on her grip. “I didn’t mean it that way. Just that, well, it’s nice to know you are dating some nice man.” She had some of the same skills as Jagger with her eyes. They locked onto yours and wouldn’t let go. You really couldn’t even turn your head. And, you had to tell the truth. “It is a ni
ce young man. Isn’t it?”
I know my mother had her moments of thinking I might be gay, and, believe me, I was tempted to lead her on a few times for the hell of it, but decided, how pathetic was that?
With my dating history, it really wasn’t my mother’s fault that she thought that. “Yes, Mom. He’s a nice man. A good-looking man. Even a dynamite investigator.”
“Jagger?”
Speechless, I shook my head, waved to everyone in the room whether they were looking or not, and yanked myself away from my mother’s staring.
Okay, she’d never met Nick, and she had met Jagger. That’s why she assumed I was dating him. They’d met a few months ago and consequently he came for Christmas Eve, and she egged him on to kiss me under the mistletoe.
Don’t get me started on that night.
But damn if it wasn’t hard to hear her talk about Jagger.
All the way home, I could hear my mother asking if I was dating Jagger. And, all the way home I kept telling myself how great Nick was. How handsome. How debonair. How smart. How . . . he wasn’t Jagger.
When I pulled into my parking lot, I sat in my car a few minutes, looking at the front door of our condo. I wouldn’t be living here much longer, I thought. My heart sank.
Once I’d pulled myself out of the car and gone inside, I grabbed Spanky and sat with him for a good ten minutes, knowing that I wouldn’t have as much time to get ready. But depression had set in.
Who would Spanky live with?
Damn. This was like getting a divorce. Both Miles and I loved him equally. I looked into his gigantic dark eyes, “Shit. What are we going to do?”
“Don’t leave.”
Again I thought the dog had talked to me. Then I sat back and told myself that maybe I really wouldn’t have to move to 171 David Drive, home of the Sokol family. Maybe I could stay here and keep out of Miles and Goldie’s way.
I kissed Spanky on the head and hurried to go shower. At least a night out with Nick might take my mind off my problems. Possible murder. Possible moving. Possible never finishing my damn case.
Finally ready in record time, I ran to answer the bell on the third ring.