The Stiff and the Dead Page 10

When his kiss moved to my lips, a shimmering inside me sped up like a tiny tsunami. Yikes!

  He didn’t prolong it, but pulled back and said, “We’ll have to go back and look for your keys, hon.”

  Hon? I had to mentally shake my head and tell myself that I was a professional—even if not very experienced. “Yeah, Mary. Wait. I need to go find my purse.”

  “Keys,” Nick said, taking me by the arm and pushing me through the door. He gave Mary one of his “Nick” smiles.

  I figured Mary’s insides were still shimmering when Nick and I got inside the door and shut it so she wouldn’t notice my odd behavior. “Phew.”

  “No problem, Pauline. You need to try and remember you’re working a case. I’m thinking you get so hung up on your nursing, which is totally understandable, that you forget you’re in a new profession.”

  I sighed. “That’s absolutely true. How can I help that?”

  “You probably can’t. Even though you’re working as a nurse under cover, you still have real lives to deal with.” He brushed a kiss across my cheek. “You’re doing it right.”

  The kiss? I touched my cheek and stood like a jerk for a few seconds. Then I managed to snap my mind back into working gear. “Thanks. Come on. The file cabinet is behind the reception desk.”

  He followed me slowly, making sure no one was left in the office. I knew there was an outside answering service that took calls during the lunch break, so no one needed to hang around. Sure enough, not a soul was in sight.

  At the file cabinets, we pulled out the “B” section and thumbed through.

  “There. Banko,” Nick said, pointing to a huge file.

  Before I pulled it out, I felt my heart plummet. “Shit. She looks as if she really might be sickly. That’s a damn big file.”

  “You never know.” He took it out before I could and motioned toward the desk. “Don’t move anything.”

  I readied to ask if he thought I was stupid, but figured if he hadn’t said that, I would have cleared a section of the desk to put down Sophie’s chart. We sat at the same time and opened the file.

  Nick looked at me. “Good thing medicine is your expertise. I’d have no clue about any of this.”

  Pleased, I smiled and leaned in farther to look at Sophie’s chart. After several minutes, a “hmm” snuck out followed by a “damn.”

  “What’s ‘hm’ and ‘damn’ mean?”

  “Well, interestingly enough, Sophie has had some medical problems through the years. The most recent visit was only for her hypertension. Which, by the way, seems to be very much under control. But she has had plenty of problems. Diabetes. Congestive heart disease. Two warts frozen off her fingers last year . . .”

  I looked at Nick.

  “Bingo,” he said.

  “Well, not exactly. I mean she does take medication for those health problems, but mostly maintenance doses. Even with a chart this thick, she doesn’t warrant all the prescriptions she files.”

  He took my hand and said, “Good job.”

  The warmth spreading up my arm had to come from being congratulated on a job well done as an investigator. On the other hand, when a guy looked like Nick, the warmth was a no-brainer.

  “We need to get the hell out of here,” he said.

  “Oh. Yeah.” I took the chart, tried to set it back so no one would notice that it was ever moved and we hurried out, locking the door behind us. I looked at my watch. “Shit. Only thirty minutes left to get something to eat.”

  “That’s why they call it fast food.”

  I laughed as we headed out the door to my car. The parking lot was nearly empty now with the clinic closed, and the pharmacy was probably madly filling all the prescriptions ordered this morning. We went to the closest fast-food restaurant I could find. When we pulled into the lot and got out, Nick looked around.

  “Do you think someone followed us?” I wondered.

  “Not sure. Guess I’m always on the lookout.”

  Which is something I should be, too. I turned to give the lot a once-over. “Hey, wasn’t that black Toyota at the clinic?”

  Nick turned to where I was pointing. “Could be, but there are hundreds of cars like that. You have to start noticing license plates. Make it a habit.”

  I thanked him for the advice as we went inside to the counter. Nick had two Big Macs and chuckled when I ordered a Happy Meal—Chicken McNuggets—for myself.

  “Hey,” I protested, “I’m not too hungry.” Actually, I was watching my diet, hence the children’s portion, but didn’t want to share that info with him.

  When we sat down, we talked a bit more about the case, deciding we needed more information on Sophie. The chart wasn’t really good enough to help convict her of prescription insurance fraud. I’d shared with him my “Peggy Doubtme” persona. He loved it and thought I needed to go to Bingo tonight and get chummier with Sophie. Already feeling exhausted, I groaned.

  Nick chuckled and pulled me close. His breath brushed across my cheek. Wow.

  I didn’t have to look in any mirror to know my face was redder than Ronald McDonald’s hair.

  I should pull away, but suddenly I had a vision of my mother, staring at me. I know, on the tip of her tongue, were the words, “You are not getting any younger, Pauline. He is a nice man. And handsome. What are you waiting for?”

  “Pauline?”

  “Hmm?” My motherly vision disappeared. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

  He smiled. “I asked if you wanted to go out for coffee after Bingo tonight.”

  My eyes widened. Nick was asking me out. All I could think as I turned to look at him was that my “imaginary” mother must have done something to make him ask me out. I stared straight ahead to see if she’d appear again.

  And, in my peripheral vision, I saw Jagger.

  Nine

  I slowly pulled away from Nick, with Jagger a haze in the background.

  Nick stared at me. “Pauline, you all right? You look as if you’ve seen a—”

  “Ghost?” Jagger said.

  Nick spun around. “Christ. A ghost would be a welcome sight.”

  I sat motionless. Silent. Scared.

  What the hell should I do? Where was my figment of a mother when I needed her? Or at least needed her advice.

  Jagger sat himself down, right next to me. I felt like the water boy between two fullbacks.

  Jagger started to say something, but Nick waved his hand. “Hold on. Pauline was just about to answer my question.”

  My mouth was as dry as the Sahara.

  Nick continued, with a rather unflattering shit-eating grin: “My question of going out tonight for coffee. With me.”

  Unfortunately he looked directly at Jagger and not me.

  If I had a magnifying glass, I might have been better able to tell if Jagger had even flinched—a minuscule amount. I squinted to see better. Naw. I’d need more than reading glasses to see a reaction from him. More like a magnifying glass or one of those telescopes used to see outer space.

  I’d give him this; the guy had disguises, brains and control down pat.

  He sat there like some gorgeous manly mannequin. Damn, but I wished he’d have shown a bit of jealousy.

  What the hell was I thinking? It wasn’t as if Jagger and I were an item. Ha! Jealous indeed. With his reaction of steel, he obviously didn’t have one iota of interest in me.

  I wished I didn’t care.

  I had to snap out of this infatuation and concentrate on work, and the fact that I should have a life outside of investigating. So, I turned to Nick and said, “I’d love to go for coffee.”

  My head spun around toward Jagger like the little girl’s in The Exorcist. Damn. Still nothing.

  Nick smiled. “Great. I’ll pick you up at your place around ten.”

  Ten? I was usually in bed by ten. Thinking how pathetic that was, I decided to graciously agree and not mention my bedtime in front of these two.

  Interesting two.

  I wondered i
f, over coffee tonight, I might get more info from Nick about their past. Then I told myself to be honest and admit the only reason I wanted that info was because of my Jagger infatuation.

  I’d keep my mouth shut.

  Nick scooted closer to me.

  I fought the urge to move closer to Jagger. He looked at us, but again, nothing.

  “So, what brings you here, Jagger?” Nick asked.

  My intuition told me Nick was going to drape his arm around my shoulder at any minute.

  Bingo.

  Not bad. It felt damn good to have a man’s arms around me. Especially some gorgeous guy like Nick Caruso. I stayed put and looked at Jagger. “Aren’t you going to eat something?”

  He looked at my food. “What’s the toy this week?”

  For a second he’d lost me. Then I felt my face flush and said, “Some little horse from a Disney movie. I er . . . get the Happy Meal so I can give the toys to my nieces and nephews.”

  He wasn’t buying that but remained silent for a few seconds. “Find out anything today?”

  Work. Investigating. I’d nearly forgotten all about it, just as most of the women who entered the restaurant and noticed Jagger and Nick must have forgotten why they were there. I’ve never seen so many females staring at once.

  Wow. Pauline Sokol, the envy of Hope Valley.

  Amid bites of my nuggets, I filled Jagger in on Sophie Banko’s chart and her ailments.

  “Not enough to go on,” he said as if Nick and I hadn’t already come to that conclusion.

  Miffed, I felt Nick’s muscles tighten and figured he felt the same as I did.

  “You need to get closer to her. Go to Bingo tonight.”

  Like a boa constrictor, Nick’s arm tightened around me, causing a little sound to come out of my mouth. Sounded like some squeaky kid’s toy. Nick released, apologized to me and then looked at Jagger. “We already have it taken care of.”

  Jagger looked at a loss for words, but I knew, just knew, that couldn’t be possible. Not Jagger.

  “I already have that little horse,” he said.

  Before I knew it, he was up and out the door faster than the breeze that blew in from the cold.

  On the way back to the office, Nick and I were silent despite the gnawing feeling in my brain to question him about Jagger.

  Back to work, I thought. Back to reality. Back to hooking up with Sophie.

  It dawned on me that since I’d be wearing my Peggy Doubtme clothes tonight, I’d have to give Goldie a call. When we entered the office, Nick stopped at the door.

  “I have something to take care of. I’ll be around, though. Try to get over to the pharmacy if you can. At least make contact with Hildy. I’ll be on the lookout for Sophie.”

  I’d almost forgotten about Hildy, but I had told Nick about her this morning so as not to leave any part of the case out. “Will do. See you later.”

  “If not, see you tonight at your place.” He leaned near.

  He’s going to kiss me!

  And he did. Soft, gentle on my lips. Wow. I touched my upper lip after he turned and walked out. One lady patient asked, “Did you bump your lip, honey?” Three others came through the door and looked at me oddly.

  “Hmm? Oh. No. I . . . no bump.” Bumbling idiot. I smiled and hurried into the nurses’ station, where I looked to see I had four minutes left before I had to call in the first patient. So, I dialed Goldie’s number. “Hey, Gold.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, shit. Did I wake you?”

  After a few mumblings, he said, “Yeah, but for you, Suga, I’d wake up at midnight. What’s happening?”

  I gave him a two-minute update, leaving time to discuss Peggy’s wardrobe. He said he’d take care of me. Before I hung up, the words flew out of my mouth. “I’m going on a date with Nick tonight!”

  “Sheeeet! And don’t you hang up, girl.”

  I held the receiver. “Have to get to work in a minute.”

  “Tell me a minute’s worth.”

  I gave a synopsis of the luncheon events.

  Goldie howled. “Damn. That hurt my throat, but it was worth it. Only thing better would have been to see it all in person.” He paused to cough.

  “You all right, Gold?”

  “Fine. Look, Suga,’ member what I done told you about Jagger. He’s like cocaine. He’ll make you feel wonderful, then like shit. Stick with Nick. Nick’s got class.”

  “Jagger has—”

  “Jagger has your hormones all in a tizzy. Try to think with your mind on this one, Suga. You’re a smart cookie. As mysterious and fabulous as Jagger appears, go with Nick. Nick’s a done deal.”

  “You know something about Jagger you’re not telling me.”

  He shrieked. “Ouch!”

  I reminded myself this was Goldie that I was talking to. My second best friend. “I’m sorry, Gold. Didn’t mean to imply that you were holding back on me. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” I looked at my watch. “Hey, I really have to run.”

  As I went to set the receiver down, I could hear him mumbling, “I know what’s gotten into you. Jagger’s mesmerized you. That’s what’s gotten into you . . .”

  The receiver clicked into place—and so did my heart.

  I took the prescription from Dr. Handy and hurried over to the pharmacy. Mrs. Wentworth needed some Zoloft to deal with her teenage daughter and being as upset as the dear lady was, she wasn’t in any condition to get the meds herself. I came up behind Hildy, who was waiting on a man at the counter.

  “Hey, Hildy. How are you?”

  She didn’t look up from the cash register. I wondered if all the piercing metal had been weighing down her head. “Fine. Great. Usual shit. Hang it!”

  “Hildy, it’s me. Pauline.”

  She swung around and a faint smile crossed her purple lips. “Oh, hey. It’s you.”

  I looked around. “Busy?”

  She shrugged. “What’s new?”

  As she said that, Sophie Banko came into the pharmacy. Yikes! I wished I’d had my camera glasses. “I need this filled. I’ll add it to the pile on your desk and wait over there.”

  Perfect. I could legitimately sit there and study Sophie. With my decent 20/15 vision I could even see what she was here to get.

  I aimed my beeper camera at her and pressed the button.

  Hildy handed the man at the counter his white bag of medicine, spun around and nearly ran toward me. She snatched the prescription off the top of the pile. “I’ll get Leo right on this!”

  Then she was gone, and I was pissed. Oh, not at her, but at life. Here I was, making a friend to help my case and her in the process, and now I got preferential treatment, which would get me out of the pharmacy too fast to see the comings and goings of one Sophie Banko.

  Pauline Sokol was not born under the brightest lucky star.

  I was, however, born determined. So, I got up from Hildy’s desk and headed up to the counter. Sophie had a paper in her hand. I looked at her and smiled. “Can I help you?”

  Hopefully Leo or the other pharmacist wouldn’t come out of the back and ask me what the hell I thought I was doing. I could say I was helping Hildy, but she hadn’t returned yet. I pictured her standing over mousy Leo with a whip and a chair until he filled my prescription. Then they’d ask me why I was hanging around here so long. Most of the nurses dropped off the prescriptions, ran back and came to get them later or let the more able-bodied patients come get theirs themselves.

  I’d use the excuse that poor Mrs. Wentworth was so stressed that she needed the Zoloft now.

  Sophie gave me the once-over and said, “No. I’m waiting for the pharmacist.”

  I worried that she recognized me.

  “We ever met?” she said.

  “Er. Nope. Okay, then. I’ll let you wait.” I stood there, moving a box of carob bars back and forth to look busy. All I could see on her paper was that it looked like a list. What kind it was, I couldn’t see. But I kept trying to stand on tiptoe to
film her with my beeper.

  Didn’t think I got much though.

  An elderly lady came over and started to chat with Sophie. Perfect. I moved the carob box closer to Sophie’s list. Her meaty hand covered most of it, and she held it with a death grip.

  The carob bars moved closer.

  I heard a noise from behind. Leo was coming! My hand went to grab for the box, but instead, I pushed it.

  Carob bars flew off the counter, pelting Sophie’s side. The other lady screamed as if the bars would kill a woman of Sophie’s size.

  “Oh! I’m sorry!” I shouted, still trying to look at the paper, but also reaching for the rest of the bars at the same time.

  Leo started to yell.

  Hildy hurried over and yanked me away from the chaotic counter. “Get out of here,” she said into my face while shoving Mrs. Wentworth’s meds into my hands.

  I could only grab the medicine and take one last look at the list. Upside down, I could read the letters.

  M,A,C,I,E.

  My uncle Walt’s name?

  I sat in the restroom of the clinic on the toilet seat cover, my cell phone in hand. Problem was, I didn’t know whom to call.

  Jagger?

  Nick?

  My logical mind said to call Nick. After all, he was supposed to be helping me on my case. But then again, to be fair, I was helping Jagger. I knew my film from the beeper was lousy. A real waste.

  I punched in #1. Jagger’s cell phone number.

  Now, Jagger’s phone number was not only unlisted, but I’m sure even the FBI couldn’t find it. He was that elusive. But, on my last case—my first case that is—Jagger had trusted me with his number—once people had been murdered.

  I know he wouldn’t be upset to have me call now.

  “Yeah.”

  I jolted back on the commode when I heard his voice. My voice, on the other hand, wouldn’t work worth a damn.

  “Look, Sherlock, I’m in the middle of something here. You all right?”

  My first thought was to listen to the background noise to see if I heard some woman sighing, moaning, or . . . never mind. My second thought was to snap out of it, and I said, “I saw Sophie bringing a list to the pharmacy.”