Lori Avocato - Nip, Tuck, Dead

Even though I knew, just knew, that it was going to be a waste of my breath, I couldn’t help ask, “How the hell did you know about Goldie being here?”

For once Jagger didn’t give me a “how the hell do you think?” look. Maybe since he was on vacation, things would be different. He set down his cup as Arlene put his eggs in front of him, and he gave her a Jagger-smile. She melted. Then he looked at me. “Fabio told me.”

Fabio? A logical explanation but one that I was hesitant to believe. Then again, Fabio was clearly afraid of Jagger. I’d often wondered what kind of power or control Jagger had over Fabio. Now that Jagger was here and not working-maybe I’d do a little snooping about him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t do the same about me.

Okay. Okay. A girl could hope.

I’d left Jagger at the breakfast table chatting with Arlene about her kids and hubby and made it to Highcliff. Yes, I could see that Arlene knew Jagger fairly well. One of these days she and I were going to chat over tea. Soon.

“Morning,” I said to Ian as I passed by.

“Wait!” he shouted and stood.

I swung around. “What’s wrong?” Ian had a long scratch on the side of his neck that I hadn’t noticed yesterday. Hm. I walked closer and tried to use every investigative technique I had about something that suddenly interested me. “How’d you scratch your neck, Ian?” flew out of my mouth before decorum and tact could even get a shot at me.

He touched his hand gently to his neck, which looked as if he wore liquid foundation. “Oh, this. I guess shaving.” He hurriedly restacked a pile of records over and over on his desk.

Ian was nervous.

“What is it that you wanted?” I leaned over the desk to get a closer look.

Fresh wound. Not fully scabbed over. Lighter pink than an old cut would be.

Ian was the guy running through the topiary butterflies last night and the one who’d knocked me down!

“Oh, Dr. Neal is going to see Gold…Mr. Perlman today. Change in schedule. The appointment is in a half hour. His office is next to Dr. Cook’s.” He shoved the files to the side and scurried away from the desk-and away from my gawking.

I stood there for several seconds, but he never came back, so I hightailed it down to Goldie’s room. He had to be my number one concern until post-op. After all, Gold was making a huge sacrifice for my case.

After I knocked on the door, Goldie yelled to come in. When I opened it, I nearly laughed. He sat on the chaise lounge with some young woman at his feet, giving him a pedicure. Only my Gold.

“Morning.” I nodded to both of them.

“Hey, Suga. This is Marilee. She’s almost done. Does a bitchin’ job on feet.”

Marilee laughed. It didn’t take much to become friends with dear Goldie. He motioned for me to sit.

“Want some tea?” he asked.

I thought of my soggy pancakes. “No,” I said then sighed. “Hey, Gold. Guess who is staying at the Samuel Freeman Lodge?”

He touched his nail to his tooth and tapped a few times as if that would give him the answer. Then he turned toward me, shook his head, rolled his eyes and glared.

“How’d you know? That is uncanny!”

“He comes here every year to get away. Long time ago I’d heard about how Jagger was on some sailing team out here. Guess he likes the water.” With that he shivered.

I too had fears of drowning, so I was with Goldie on this one. “How come you never told me this?”

Goldie’s forehead wrinkled. “Guess it never seemed pertinent to the conversation, Suga. When would I have worked in, ‘Oh yeah, Jagger heads to Newport every year for some sailing and seafood’?”

“R and R he calls it.” I slumped back in my seat. “Actually let’s drop Jagger-”

Goldie waved his hands. “No problem for me, Suga.”

“Stop that. He’s not like cocaine for me. He’s not going to make me feel wonderful and then make me crash and burn. On to my case-”

Marilee caught my eye. Damn, I had to watch what I said, although she looked engrossed in finishing her job.

“Case of poison ivy. Any good cures, Gold?” I lied.

He winked at me. “Calamine lotion. Give it a try.” He settled back to enjoy the rest of his pedicure, and I sat with my mouth shut until Marilee left with a polite goodbye.

I hurriedly told Goldie about his appointment (which Ian had already sprung on him, I’m sure just to come visit Goldie earlier) and quickly segued into last night and the scratch on Ian’s neck.

“Jesus, Suga. You think Ian killed Mr. Baines?”

“No! I really don’t, but I’m guessing our little Ian does know something that could help my case. I just feel it in my female premonition gut.”

Goldie and I never did figure anything out about last night, and before I knew it we were seated in the office of one Dr. Neal Forsyth-a real looker if I ever saw one.

I told myself that Jagger was here, in town, in Newport, but then the doc gave me a big smile and I melted much like Arlene.

I gave him a smile back and noted that his teeth were perfect, whiter than the proverbial snow-hey, he was a plastic surgeon for crying out loud and probably traded favors with the dentist. His hair was a deep black with more than specks of silver. Although there wasn’t a sign of age on the guy, he was graying before his time-and looked delicious.

“So, Goldie. May I call you Goldie?”

“Go for it.” Goldie leaned back in his chair.

I had to smile to myself because it sure looked as if Gold was very comfortable with this doctor-as opposed to old Doc Cook, who was, in fact, not any older than Neal…Dr. Neal or myself. Thirtysomethings filled the room, although I will say, he acted older. More mature. Good for him. It was good that Goldie trusted him. That would make my conscience ease a bit.

And, I had to admit, I didn’t mind working with this doctor-only because he was so much nicer than Cook!

“Fine. We work as a team around here and divide up everything evenly. I hope it’s all right with you that I’ll be performing your surgery.”

I think I moaned some kind of sexual tone.

The way Goldie and the doc looked at me, I was sure that I had. I cleared my throat and chose to ignore that the guy made me hot. After all, Jagger was in town!

Then again, that was such a long shot; I decided I’d be a wee bit friendlier with this Neal Forsyth. Why reach for the stars when you have a gimmee right in front of you. Pauline! What the heck was I thinking? I didn’t even know if he was married. I decided to look at the prospect of the good doctor as attainable.

I scanned the room for family photos and, phew, there were none. No ring. Which was not unusual for a doctor. Many that I knew didn’t wear them because of surgery.

The décor of the place said bachelor. Leather. Glass. Chrome. No wife in her right mind would let a guy decorate his office in a way that would make the female patients think single.

“Is that all right with you, Nurse Sokol?”

“Hm?” I looked up. Neal and Goldie were looking at me. “Call me Pauline,” flew out of my mouth.

Neal merely smiled. Nice.

Goldie winked.

And I swallowed so loudly to buy myself time that the entire room shook. Okay, it didn’t but it sure felt as if it did. With all the decorum I could muster, I said, “I’m sorry? I didn’t get what you said before.” Because I was gawking at you.

“I’d like Goldie to take a few more days of our healthy diet, which is very high in protein, exercise and take more advantage of the use of all the pampering of our facility to make sure he’s in excellent shape-although I have no doubt that he is.”

I’m sure Goldie only heard “pampering.”

“Is that all right with you, Gold? It will prolong your stay here.” I leaned forward.