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Authors: Lori Avocato

The Stiff and the Dead (28 page)

BOOK: The Stiff and the Dead
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He poured me a glass of water. “No caffeine tonight.”

I saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled, fixed his own dish and sat down. We ate in silence for a good part of the meal. Not unlike Jagger. He wasn't one for small talk.

After my last bite, I wiped a napkin across my lips and said, “I'll have your money next week.”

“The bills haven't even cleared the credit card company.”

“Doesn't matter. I'll get the money from my parents and pay you what you've already charged.”

He looked at me. “You want to owe your parents?”

I groaned.

“Thought so. Don't be so foolish, Pauline. Pay me when you can. I trust you.”

And I knew he did, as I trusted him. What I was more concerned with was having a monetary commitment to
him.
One that would surely continue after our cases were solved.

Did I want that kind of debt?

And did I want it just to be able to hold on to seeing Jagger?

Jagger had cleaned the dishes, changed back into his janitor overalls and washed Goldie's clothes before he and Miles got home and began screeching like two mother hens about my injury. He left after giving them instructions about waking me throughout the night to make sure I hadn't passed away in my sleep. I kept reiterating that Miles was a nurse, which Jagger ignored each time.

Me, I kept thinking about that debt question.

When he'd finally left, I was exhausted and Goldie and Miles tucked me into bed like my two fairy godmothers.

Sleep wouldn't come since I'd taken that nap, but I lay in bed and rested, thinking. That was part of why I couldn't fall asleep.

I had to give Fabio something soon.

I needed to get paid.

And I needed to help Jagger—for all the right reasons.

I would stay on at the clinic and see what I could find out about the Viagra. That meant that I didn't have to dress up like Peggy anymore. I told myself how relieved I was.

Then it dawned on me that if Peggy “disappeared” without a trace, the seniors would call the cops. I had to do Peggy one more time.

Jagger called to check up on me and read me the riot act because I wasn't sleeping.

After a few fake static sounds I told him he was breaking up and put the receiver down.

Then I wished I hadn't.

That's when I shut my eyes and ordered myself to sleep.

“Suga. Suga? Wake up.”

I opened one eye to see Goldie standing there in his royal blue peignoir. It looked great with his skin coloring but a bit eerie at night because he was sans wig and makeup. More like a bald Marilyn Monroe. “I just fell asleep.”

“What day is it?”

I cursed him.

“Suga?”

“Going on Sunday. And don't ask me who the president is unless you want that royal blue thing in shreds.”

After a typical Goldie shriek, he kissed my cheek and left.

He and Miles took turns annoying me all night until I screamed the ultimate threat: redecorating the condo in
my
taste.

The rest of the night, as far as I could remember, went by peacefully.

Ring. Ring.

I heard Goldie yell to Miles to get the phone so it didn't wake me. “Too late, Gold,” I hollered.

Then I could hear Miles on the phone in their bedroom. “Yes, we kept waking her. No, she never was forgetful. Irritable, yes. Of course. Like her usual self.”

I smiled to my pillows and figured it was the ER calling to see how I was. They often did that with patients who were sent home and might develop some kind of complications.

“No, we didn't give her any liquor. For chrissake. I am a nurse, Jagger.”

Jagger!

I sprang up in my bed as if he'd walked into the room and seen me in my red flannel nightie. Whoa, boy. Moving fast was not a good idea. My head pounded. I flopped back. I knew I'd be fine if I moved at a more normal pace. Today I'd have to do Peggy and get that out of the way, since working at the clinic was so exhausting that I wasn't in a mood to go out at night.

Go out.

I remembered my date with Nick and my heart fluttered. I was thankful and impressed that my “friend” Jagger had called out of concern, but I repeated to myself,
Nick likes me!

I heard Miles say a curt goodbye. I smiled again and got out of bed.

When I crossed the hallway to the bathroom, Goldie started admonishing Miles for waking me up by talking too loud.

“Gold, I'm fine. Actually the ringing woke me. If you're going to holler at someone, make it Jagger.”

“Ah!” he yelled.

I laughed to myself at the vision of Goldie going up against Jagger. Too funny.

After I brushed my teeth, had a cup of tea that Miles fixed me and took my shower, I went through my “Peggy” wardrobe. “Hey, Gold. Got a minute?”

From downstairs he yelled, “What's wrong?” Then I heard the pounding of footsteps all the way up the stairs. They flew into my room as if I'd had some kind of attack.

“Take it easy, you two. I'm fine. Jagger has gotten you both too riled up. My head is fine. If it were Monday I'd be going to work.” Ugh.

They sighed simultaneously. Miles settled in my stuffed mauve chair, and Goldie flopped on the bed like some diva.

“So, what is it, Suga?”

“Well, I never got the chance to tell you both that I've finished my case—”

They were up and dancing me around in seconds.

“Wait!” Miles yelled. “We'll make her sick. Are you sick, Pauline?”

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” Goldie looked paler than me.

I laughed. “You two are way too gay sometimes. I'm fine. But even though I have enough to nail Sophie, I can't turn it in yet. I have to . . . shit, stay and help Jagger with his case.”

Miles grinned.

Goldie frowned.

I stood speechless and . . . glad.

They prodded and prodded me for the details, and then I told them about having to be Peggy one more time.

Goldie got up and gave me a gentle hug. “I'm so proud of you. You thought of that all by yourself. Peggy must look fabulous today!”

With that the two set about making me age forty years.

After Goldie combed the last strand of my white wig, he turned me around.

“Damn.” I looked at myself. He'd gone easy on the wrinkles this time, as if Peggy were happy about leaving. Miles made me wear Mrs. Honeysuckle's black shirtwaist dress with white piping. It came mid calf and my “Maciejko” legs looked damned good. He also pulled the hair of the wig up in a French chignon and today's makeup was more natural than overdone.

I turned to them. “Do you think I look younger?”

They laughed.

Miles leaned near. “Wait until Helen gets a load of you. The bitch will die of envy.”

Goldie laughed. “Right. Then maybe she won't take Uncle Stash for a ride.”

I groaned at the thought of Helen becoming my step-aunt. Thank goodness they'd live in Florida.

“Okay. I'm off. Good thing it's Sunday and there's a special luncheon at the senior citizens center.”

Goldie said, “You take it easy, Suga,” and Miles added, “Yeah.”

They each kissed one cheek. I couldn't feel a thing with the makeup, but made a smooching sound back at them.

Spanky again barked at me, and I knew today was going to be a fabulous day.

When I passed down Pleasant Street toward the senior citizens center, I saw a spanking-new red Mustang pull out of Olive Street. The female driver, she looked . . . familiar.

My head swung around so fast, I had a moment of dizziness. After a deep breath, I leaned closer to the window.

The driver looked like Hildy!

Maybe my concussion was worse than I'd thought. Maybe I wasn't seeing clearly. Maybe Hildy did make “extra” money illegally and had killed Leo over some tiff.

My heart sank.

There was no way that she could afford that car on her measly salary, I thought.

There was a chance that it wasn't her,
I told myself. I opened my window a bit for a breath of fresh air to revive me and heard a shout.

Apparently a black Toyota had pulled out in front of the Mustang. I was busy processing what the female in the Mustang had yelled.

Hang it!

How many other kids that looked like Hildy used that term? I could barely move. I sat staring at the green light until I heard some annoying honking. I started to move as the light turned red.

I was the last one who made it through.

I turned down Olive to follow her. She headed in the direction of her street. With each turn, I felt horrible. The least of my worries was that she'd see me and recognize me. Then again, if Spanky didn't know me, I don't think an unobservant teen would either.

But what about a murderess?

Where did the car come from?

All the way to her house I told myself that maybe she'd borrowed it. But when she pulled into her driveway, I noticed the old car wasn't there. Hildy got out and bent to lock the door. I pulled up to the curb.

She looked as if she felt better, and why shouldn't she? A deep brown fur jacket, rabbit maybe, covered her. The knee-high boots she wore over her jeans looked brand new—and expensive. Italian leather, I guessed.

How could she afford all that?

I made a mental note to tell Jagger about all of this and added a prayer that there was some other explanation.

Hildy just couldn't be involved in the fraud—or the murders.

On the way back to the senior citizens center I decided I'd get something out of Hildy at work tomorrow. Surely she'd be there, since she didn't look sick anymore.

I, however, felt like crap after seeing her.

The parking lot at the center was quite full. I guessed I'd get to say goodbye to everyone in one fell swoop. Thank goodness. Jagger could have the disguise department. I hadn't even dressed up on Halloween as a kid. Hated it.

I pulled into a space, shut off my engine and put my hand on my car door. It pulled open on its own!

“Ah, Bellisima. How nice you look today.” Joey the Wooer stood with his hand on my door. “Let me help-a you. It is a bit slippery. They really should-a cleaned this pavement better for us folks.”

I wanted to say I survived a slide yesterday, but bit my tongue and smiled. “How nice you are, Mr. Joey.” Peggy's tone had come back without a thought. I was really beginning to wonder if my masquerading was causing some kind of personality split for me. I liked Peggy.

Joey held my arm as we went inside. When we came up to the table, he spoke rather loudly, “You look lovely today, Bellisima. Much younger.”

I hoped my blush showed through my makeup since it seemed the appropriate thing to do after that comment.

Uncle Walt, Uncle Stash and Benny all nodded. Sophie merely stared. Helen kind of growled.

“You sure do,” said Uncle Walt.

Green showed through Helen's makeup. She grabbed his arm rather possessively. And here I thought she had her sights on my other uncle. “Why so dolled up, Peggy?”

“Well—” I sat down after Joey held my chair and was once again sandwiched between him and Sophie. I ignored her lest I yell at her about being a criminal. “Unfortunately . . . it is my goodbye outfit.”

Helen and Sophie perked up.

“Goodbye as you are going on a trip?” Helen asked.

“No, dearie. Goodbye as I am moving away. My mind isn't as clear as it used to be. My darling nephew is taking me to Arizona. I hear it's nice out there.”

Helen beamed.

Sophie looked glad.

Benny said, “Well, we sure are going to miss you, Peggy.”

My Uncle Walt stared at me a few seconds. “Darned if you don't look familiar today. Younger is right.”

Uncle Stash clucked his tongue. “You've seen Peggy plenty, Walt. Of course she looks younger than you. Oh, by the way, everyone, Helen and I have some news to celebrate today.”

I held onto the sides of my chair and watched Uncle Walt.

“We're getting married!”

Uncle Walt flinched.

Benny yelled, “Congratulations!”

Joey looked unreadable, as usual.

I tried to force a smile.

Sophie looked pissed. Jealous was maybe more like it. She probably wanted a man herself. Suddenly I felt sorry for her.

Then I could hear Jagger in my ear. “Don't get emotionally involved, Sherlock.”

I shook my head and grabbed a roll. Joey passed me the butter, looking at me oddly.

“Everything all right, Bellisima?”

I slathered the roll and took too big a bite. “Fwine. Evewething is fwine.”

Thank goodness my teeth were my own, and I didn't choke. Imagine someone doing CPR on me and finding all my padding as I died. My spirit would be too embarrassed to enter heaven.

After the meal, Joey insisted on dancing with me over and over. A few of the other men cut in, but Joey would always come back. I figured he was a bit overprotective, as any “old country” European would be after learning I was leaving. How cute. He held me tighter.

BOOK: The Stiff and the Dead
5.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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