Lori Avocato - Nip, Tuck, Dead

When I got to the door and had to fiddle around in my pockets for my key, I felt something-no, someone-behind me.

I swung around.

No one.

Now my hand started to shake. The damn key kept falling back into my pocket. And the presence cast a cool breeze on my now sweat-covered top. Was I just skeptical now?

With shaky hands, I managed to shove the key in the lock, told myself I was getting paranoid for no reason, and kicked the door with my foot to swing it open.

And then I screamed.

My eyelids fluttered. For several seconds I fought the urge to open them or to just lay there and sleep or maybe die. But I didn’t feel as if I’d been sleeping peacefully. Confusion had me wondering what the hell had happened, and then I felt something cool and damp run across my forehead and realized I was lying down.

My eyelids flew open.

“You’re gonna make it, Sherlock.”

Samuel Freeman himself couldn’t have startled me more than…seeing…“Jagger?”

Suddenly I was wide-awake and sitting up. “What the hell…you nearly scared me to death. Again! You do that on all my cases.”

He grinned.

I melted inside, but held my own-although barely-since it took a hell of a lot to gain control.

“What? You thought I was old Sam Freeman?” He laughed and threw the damp washcloth he’d been using on my forehead into the bathroom sink.

He was trying to revive me. How sweet. Then again, he’d shocked me into passing out-how Jagger-like.

I looked at him staring down at me. Maybe there was something in my eyes that he misread, but soon he’d seated himself on the bed next to me.

Now that was just plain too much excitement for my night.

I swallowed hard despite my desert-dry throat. “Hey, I’ve felt Samuel Freeman around here. I’m not altogether sure there aren’t things like ghosts or spirits of some sort. We’d be pretty conceited to think we’re the only creatures on this planet.”

He looked at me as if I were nuts. With Jagger, I’d long ago learned to ignore those looks.

“What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

Jagger leaned against the wall, lifted one foot on the side of the bed and said, “Coincidently, I’m rooming here for R and R.”

Now I couldn’t even swallow. Having a mysterious, hunky fine specimen of eye candy sitting so close on my bed made any sensible thoughts jumble. For several seconds I let the letters R &R settle in. Sure I knew what they meant, but Jagger? In Newport?

“How’d you get into my room?” I asked-not sure if I really wanted to know or cared.

He grinned at me.

“Yeah right. Housekeeping must have let you in.”

Seemed as if my mind was clearing.

I gave talking a shot with, “R and R? In Newport? You?”

He shrugged. “I like sailing.”

Maybe it was the nonchalant shrug. Maybe it was the dim lighting, closeness of male, and tone of his voice. Or maybe it was because I was so shocked at having him sitting on my bed, but whatever the reason, I bought his explanation.

“Wait a minute. Okay. I buy that you are here to rest up, and I’m sure you deserve it. And, I also buy that you like sailing, and sure, Newport is the closest fabulous harbor to Hope Valley, but what I don’t get or buy is why the Samuel Freeman Lodge? Where I’m staying?”

Jagger chuckled, leaned near…and kissed my cheek.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Sherlock. This is an annual for me. Merely coincidence that you got a case here in town.” With that he pushed himself up, walked to the door, and over his shoulder said, “Get some rest. I’ll see you at breakfast. Wednesday’s savory dish is eggs rancheros. My favorite. I’m next door.”

Next door!

Guess he’d said that in case I needed him-for protection.

I think I sat frozen in my bed for hours before falling asleep in my scrubs.

“Sweet or savory?” Arlene asked. I hadn’t noticed before but she was petite, brunette, and weighed a bit more than she should. But no one could argue that she wasn’t pleasant and sweet, and besides, she’d told me that she’d worked there for over ten years.

My head pounded from a night of tossing and turning and knowing that Jagger was only a wall away. Why me? I had thought half the night. Then why him? The other half. At least I’d managed to tell the cops about the guy who knocked me over last night. I really couldn’t say that he’d attacked me, so they didn’t sound too interested.

“Oh, sorry, Arlene. Sav…sweet.” I had no idea what she’d just rattled off as the choices, but ordering Jagger’s favorite didn’t seem like a good idea to me.

I still couldn’t get over that he had come here for R &R. What were the odds? And how much deviousness had gone into Jagger’s R &R plans?

A few guests bustled in and out, helping themselves to coffee on the mahogany sideboard that offered homemade bakery delicacies as well as yogurt, fruit and dry cereal. Fresh floral arraingements decorated the room in pastels, and the silverware in front of me probably needed to be polished on a daily basis. It shone like it was very expensive.

Before long Arlene brought my pancakes with pecans, apples and raisins swimming in Vermont maple syrup on top. I knew it was real Vermont maple by the aroma. Delicious. She set the dish in front of me and soon I was salivating. I took my fork and sliced off a section. When it hit my tongue, my entire body shivered. “Wow. Delicious.” I took a sip of tea as Arlene stood and asked a couple who’d just arrived last night whether they wanted sweet or savory.

It took all of my control to not take another bite, but I wanted to ask Arlene a question, but not with my mouth full. “Oh, Arlene, have you met the new guest who is staying in the room next to mine?”

She seemed to hesitate. Wait. Make that pause. Arlene looked deep in thought (maybe trying to figure out who was in the room) but when her eyes widened, her tongue ran over her lips and she grinned like the freaking Cheshire cat-obviously Arlene had a great memory.

“He’s come here for years…”

With that she was gone as if in a dream. Geez. Maybe old Samuel had snatched her away. Or it could be having tasty Jagger coming to your establishment for years was something to drool over. Even for married Arlene.

So it was true.

I tucked that thought into the back of my head and decided to finish up and leave before he came down. I’d never get to work if I got hung up on the fab breakfast and even fabber company of one Jagger-last name unknown.

Suddenly I wondered how much Arlene knew about him. Coming here for years might have been a good sign-a break for me to find out more about the mysterious guy. Yeah, right. Hopefully he’d slipped somewhere throughout his visits, revealing something, and maybe she could tell me more about him than I could ever find out in Hope Valley.

“Morning.”

I jumped, knocking my green tea over and soaking my delicious pancakes. “Damn it, Jagger. Stop sneaking up on me!”

He pulled out the chair opposite me. At first I was disappointed that he didn’t choose the one next to me, but then again, now I could see him. Seeing him would be easier on my libido than having him sit next to me.

Shoulders touching.

Scent-inhaling pheromones.

And maybe, God forbid, brushing knees.

“Pauline, wake up. I asked you a question.”

I looked up to see Jagger, holding his coffee cup in his hands and glaring at me. Oops.

“What?” I figured if I sounded annoyed he wouldn’t question my trip to La La Land -on his behalf.

He took a long slow sip while the other couple chatted about going on a tour of the mansions with a nice elderly woman who sat across from them. “I asked you about Goldie.”

Goldie? Why the hell? Oh, yeah. My best friend and patient. “Right. I knew that. Gold is fine. We’re going to find out when his surgery is-”