by Lori Avocato
I decided to go for broke, so I told her about Angie, the baby, and no insurance. Before I finished, my mother was making the sign of the cross and saying an Our Father for Angie and her family.
Now I had her.
“So, let me package up mine now. I have to get going.”
“Where?” She took out a plastic container and lined it with several paper towels.
“My date. I told you.” I got out a bag from the cabinet and the applesauce and sour cream from the fridge. Both went great with my mother’s homemade potato pancakes.
“Yes, you did say a date.” She carefully laid one pancake atop the others as if making a gift basket. “But, Pauline, you didn’t say-actually I think you are trying not to say-where.” She swung around and glared at me. “Are you having a man over to your condominium?”
Age seven started to resurface again, but I held my head up and said, “Nope.” Then I stuck the rest of the applesauce and sour cream back into the refrigerator. “Okay, Mom.” I kissed her cheek. “This is great. It all smells great. I appreciate it. Great. Great. Great.”
She grabbed my arm. “His house? You are going to a man’s house?”
Even though I’d never been good at reading body language, mother’s eyes were wild, accusing, sneaky and probing. Before I knew it, I’d be telling her that I’d had sex with ER Dano! So, telling her I was going to his house was mild in comparison. If I stuck around though, she’d have me confessing he also might be a murderer. I had to pull my face away so she couldn’t use her motherly interrogation techniques on me.
“Well, gotta run.” I made it to the doorway, but her voice yanked me back. I swung around just in time to hear her say, “You’re in your thirties, Pauline. For God’s sake, wear a thong.”
Once in my car and on the road, I could barely drive after the verbal shock Stella Sokol had given me.
And yet, I still loved her.
I kept the potato pancakes in the oven on low and hoped to hell they wouldn’t dry out. Mother’s never did, but that didn’t mean a thing, considering my cooking skills.
After my shower, I headed to my room to get dressed. When I opened the dresser drawer, I noticed a thong she’d left there-amid the rest of my undies, which I’d promptly replaced with bikinis and even some briefs that I only wore to work. Hey, I didn’t want any panty lines on my scrubs.
When I went to get a bikini pair, my hand-all by itself, mind you-drifted over and picked up the yellow thong. I held it up to figure out how women actually put the damn things on when from behind me a voice said, “Yellow is your color, Sherlock.”
I shoved the thong behind my back and swung around. “You…what are you-”
Jagger stood in the doorway, looking at my robe, which had now fallen open a tad, revealing some cleavage.
I yanked it shut, but when I did, the thong swung around in my hand. Turning, I threw it into the drawer and decided not to try to explain that my mother had bought it.
“Goldie let me in.” He leaned against the wall, looking oh-so delicious.
“Oh.” I held the robe for dear life. “Wait. Goldie isn’t even home!”
Jagger waved his hand as if he had no intention of explaining how he got in and, frankly, I didn’t care. When I looked at him standing there, my first thought was-he came. He’s going to ER Dano’s with me.
Jagger thinks Dano is guilty.
While hugging my robe, I felt my heart plummet in my chest. Shit. I didn’t want that to be true. “You think Dano is guilty, then?”
Jagger curled his lips. “One of these days you’re going to have to explain how your mind works. I mean, one moment you’re ogling sexy lingerie and the next, you’re making statements out of left field. What the hell are you asking?” He sauntered in and sat on the edge of my bed.
Yeah, I was in real good condition to explain things now. Even I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking. I looked at Jagger and then at the door, hoping Goldie or Miles would come in. After a few seconds, traitor Spanky walked in and directly up to Jagger, who lifted the dog up onto the bed.
What an adorable sight!
But I had work to do and part of that was to get dressed. So, I summoned my logical thoughts and said, “If you come with me to Dano’s, then you must think he’s guilty and are worried about my safety.”
Jagger looked at me. “I don’t think. I do.” With that he scooped up Spanky, and walked out the door. “Get dressed.”
I stuck my hands on my hips and then realized how childish that must look, so instead I stuck my tongue out at his back.
I wore the yellow thong.
That thought stuck in my head as I walked down the stairs in my condo to go to the kitchen. Jagger was seated on the couch, watching CNN. Without looking, he said, “Shatley said the two stabbings are related. Not that we didn’t know that.”
“Did he say anything about Sky?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” I continued on toward the kitchen.
Suddenly I could feel him glaring at me, and I could swear he knew, just knew, that I had on the thong.
“Shut up,” I said and walked by.
He scowled as if genuinely confused. But instead of admitting something like that, he said, “Call me as soon as you’ve found out what you need to know.” He got up, walked to the door and left.
My mouth hung open for a few seconds, I looked at Spanky and said, “Shut up,” and then hurried into the kitchen, where I packaged up our meal. I had fifteen minutes to get to Dano’s or be late. I hated being late and prided myself in being on time.
On the way out the door I had a thought: our meal. I’d thought our meal, but it could be the last if I found anything suspicious in Dano’s cabinets-or if I found out the reason the papers were there.
Then again, Jagger wasn’t coming.
Jagger wasn’t coming!
Twenty-One
“You are one hell of a cook, Nightingale,” Dano said as he took another bite of potato pancake. “Damn. I’m impressed.”
My CSIC (Catholic-school-induced conscience) said I should tell him the truth, but for the moment, I reveled in the compliment and thought, hell, he might be lying about something much more serious than potato pancakes, so why not let him believe the cooking was mine?
I really didn’t want to like him. I really didn’t want to think of this as a date. I really didn’t want him to be guilty!
“Thanks,” I muttered and stuffed my mouth with a glob of sour cream. Yuck! I cut a piece of pancake and ate it to wash down the sour cream.
Dano looked at me, rather oddly, I might add. “What’s wrong?”
I waved my hand and took a sip of wine. “Oh, nothing. Just too much sour cream.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
He almost sounded angry. At least he did sound serious. Wow. Suddenly my mind snapped to attention, and I touched my finger to the pink locket-which I’d used once already on this case-hanging around my neck. A Jagger present. A very appropriate, albeit not romantic, present. Pepper spray. The locket contained pepper spray for me to use on my cases. Yes, Jagger did not trust me with a gun. Something about my foot and shots being fired-by me.
But one of these days…
While fingering the locket, I also ran through the self-defense moves Jagger had taught me. I only hoped I wouldn’t have to use them on Dano, since we’d done other moves that were much more pleasant… Geez. Just my luck.
If I didn’t keep reminding myself that Jagger wasn’t here-he actually didn’t come-then I might start to get a bit frightened. When I looked across the table with the handmade crocheted tablecloth, I found it hard to believe this guy could be a criminal, much less a murderer.
“How’s Pansy?” I asked.
Dano hesitated.
Why? What made him do that? I headed into investigative mode and decided no matter how hot he was or how much I liked this guy, I had to find out the truth very soon.
He looked at his food.
“She’s had a setback.”
Damn! “What kind?”
“Fever. The report is that she started talking, but with her temp 103, seemed she wasn’t making any sense.” He took a sip of his wine and looked at me.
To whom? Maybe what Pansy was saying made perfect sense to my case. “Interesting. What was she saying?”
“Jennifer went to visit her and said she kept repeating Sky’s name over and over.”
Gulp. I wished I could share what I knew about Sky and Pansy with Dano. Maybe he even knew about it or knew something that would make sense. “Hmm. That doesn’t make sense to me. Does it to you?”
Dano sipped his wine and shrugged. “Guess it might.”
Bingo. “Might? How’s that?”
“Well, he worked for her. Sky’s only been at TLC a few years, but he used to take Pansy on helicopter rides. She was interested in flying them.”
That’s not all she was interested in.
“Hmm. Maybe she was interested in Sky too.” I forced a chuckle.
Dano didn’t join me, but said, “Naw. Pansy’s not interested in boys.”
“She’s gay?” I nearly choked on my wine. What about the sex chair and the fact that she’d mentioned Sky’s name to Lilla and I?
“Not gay. I think neither. She’s never really had a life outside of work.” He wiped a dollop of applesauce up with the remainder of the potato pancake and stuffed it into his mouth. Stella Sokol would be thrilled to see a guy enjoying her work of art like that.
“Neither? How can you be sure?”
He wiped a napkin briskly across his lips. “I’m not. Just guessing, and frankly, Nightingale, I couldn’t give a shit.”
Well, I certainly could!
Damn, but it was romantic cleaning up after our meal. Dano was cute and said whoever cooked shouldn’t clean, but in my gut I knew I should be helping. So, we did it together and now we sat on the couch in the living room with some soft piano music playing in the background. Romantic? Yeah. Did I wish I didn’t keep noticing that stupid cabinet in the kitchen while cleaning up? Damn it. Yeah.
I had to go check it out soon or my hormones might betray me. Hey, I was human and didn’t feel as if Dano was really a threat. However, I drew the line at making out with a possible criminal, so I had to get myself into gear so I could shift into another kind of gear.
Dano reached over to put his arm around me. With the other hand he touched my cheek very gently, running his finger down to my lips, which he encircled.
Oh, boy…
“Hey, I have to use the little girls’ room.” I removed his hand reluctantly and got up.
“No problem. I have a few phone calls to make anyway.” He got up and walked to the front door.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, this thing doesn’t get very good reception in this old place.” He held out his cell phone. “Gotta go outside each time I want a clear, uninterrupted call. Take your time. Help yourself to more wine too, and feel free to refill mine.”
When he stepped out and closed the door, I looked up to heaven and winked. “If only you’d make each and every case this easy.” With that, I hurried into the kitchen to the cabinet-that could make or break my night.
Or, make that more than just this one night.
I kept looking at the front door to make sure that Dano hadn’t popped back in. Certainly he didn’t suspect me of anything. Of that much I was sure. Because if ER Dano had suspected me of being about to snoop, he wouldn’t have left me alone in the house. Nope. I never got any sense of suspicion on his part.
Since the coast looked clear, I hurried into the kitchen, propping the swinging door open a crack in order to hear the front door open. The whiteness of the place gave an eerie feeling, whereas when I first saw it, it looked as if it belonged in a featured article of House Beautiful.
Had to be my CSIC acting up, but since I had a job to do, I pretended I’d gone to public school as a kid and was Lutheran. That helped a bit as I walked to the cabinet where the papers had been stashed.
When I touched the cabinet’s door handle, I half expected the papers to be gone when I opened it.
But there they sat. All in a messed-up pile, but still there. Dano really hadn’t suspected me of anything and must not have known that I’d already seen them.
I looked toward the door and listened for a few seconds. Nothing except the grandfather clock’s gongs signaling the hour. It had been dark outside for a bit, so I realized that anyone walking by the bay windows could clearly see inside the kitchen. Realizing that gave me pause, but I turned back to the matter at hand, deciding I had to take chances in this business.
The papers on the top were all about overcharged payments made by TLC. Things like extra charges for oxygen or nurse transport when other documentation showed that these were not the case. Plus, I knew the ambulance charge was a flat rate and it was against the law to charge for some things individually.
I read through several more papers and found out that Sky’s flights were making much more money than they should. Hmm. Insurance companies were being charged for ground miles, which included every twist and turn through the streets, instead of air miles, which were direct shots through the air.
Yep. A big difference.
Sky’s signature was on several of these forms.
I leaned against the counter to digest this information. My potato pancakes started to rise in my throat. Was Sky somehow involved? Did he fall in love with Pansy and then decide he wanted to get ownership of TLC by using her-and she found out?
Jilted lovers again.
They made great suspects.
A few of the other papers had notes in the margins. Handwritten notes that I would bet my life were in Dano’s handwriting. I’d read some of his daily run sheets, and the writing looked the same, as far as I remembered. Only on these, he’d explained how medications could be double charged. When the paramedic cracked open the glass vial of a medication to give to a patient, the half-full vial was to be turned in to the ER nurse for replacement.
But Dano’s note said some of the medication could have been replaced with saline and when the nurse went to discard it, she’d never know. The patient would be charged for the medication, and the paramedic could have used the rest on him or herself or sold it in one of the crack houses over on Lincoln Street. Lord knew those poor souls would buy just about anything.
After going through everything that I read, I really wasn’t convinced of anything. As a matter of fact, I was more confused. Dano’s notes almost sounded as if he were-
“What the hell are you doing with those?” he said from behind. “Geez. Damn. Now what, Pauline?”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. My heart started to race. In the glass of the cabinet door, I could see the serious, almost threatening face of a very pissed ER Dano. And in his hand was a shiny metal object.
A knife. A knife!
Twenty-Two
“No!” I screamed and swung around to defend myself against the knife-wielding ER Dano. Although my instincts had been wrong about him, I wasn’t going to let my feelings get in the way.
My life depended on it.
After all, he’d killed Payne, stabbed Pansy and hidden the fraud evidence in his house!
Without another thought and in only a few seconds, I had the pink pepper spray locket in my hands, aimed and sprayed.
“Aye!” he screamed and dropped his knife.
I went to kick it to the side, but Dano grabbed me by the shoulders.
“What the hell? That feels like a freaking Habanera pepper in my face! Goddamn! Even my ears burn. Jesus! What the hell are you-” He nearly shook me so hard I was about to knee him in the groin when I caught a glimpse of the knife near the kitchen table.
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
Cell phone.
Dano’s cell phone lay on the floor.
He’d let me go and hurried to the sink to run water over his face.
Between breaths and gurgles, he cursed at me and asked over and over why the hell I sprayed him.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the phone.
Dano didn’t have a knife. But did that make him any less guilty of something else?
I hurried to his side and grabbed the water sprayer to help. “I thought you…you had a knife. I thought you were going to…what the hell are you doing with all those papers, Dan?” I kept spraying until he pushed my hands away, grabbed a towel and stood up.
His face was brighter than a boiled lobster.
“You’re gonna have to explain that one, Nightingale. That is, if I live. My eyes are crying like a damn baby’s. My mouth is drooling like a freaking waterfall!”
“Oh, geez. And your nose is running like a sick kid’s. I am so sorry!” Despite the look he tried to give me through his pain, I said, “Get your shirt off. The effects won’t be as bad.” I grabbed his shirt and tugged.
“Yeah, not as bad,” he muttered.
The spray obviously caused the mucus membranes of his nose and throat to swell, which made it difficult for him to breathe. His eyes had swollen shut, and I knew beneath the reddened lids they were as bloodshot as if he’d drunk a case of tequila.
He kept cursing and mentioning my name over and over.
“Get to the shower!” I yelled, half pushing him toward the downstairs bathroom that did, in fact, have a shower hose attached to it despite the claw-foot antique tub.
“Did you kill Payne?” came flying out of my mouth as I undid Dano’s belt buckle.
Dano managed to open one tiny slit of his left eye and somehow glared at me. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight? No, I didn’t kill anyone.” He stood closer to me, probably to see me better. “But the thought did cross my mind this very second.”