Lori Avocato - Nip, Tuck, Dead

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Ex-nurse-turned-insurance fraud investigator Pauline Sokol's willing to risk anything to put a bad doc out of business-;even her best friend Goldie's near-perfect proboscis! Her cross-dressing compadre has agreed to get his shnozz bobbed so Pauline can pose as his private nurse and gain entry into Highcliff Manor-;a posh plastic surgery "spa" making an illegal killing with their repeat clientele.
But when a super-rich "frequent flier" is unexpectedly widowed-;and a receptionist who knows too much is given the boot… off a nearby cliff!-;Pauline realizes she's stuck her own nose into something really nasty. Despite the pleasant distraction of the hunky Dr. Neal-;and the unexpected appearance of her sexy cohort, Jagger-;Pauline can't shake the feeling she's being closely watched. And if she's not careful, she'll be the next one who goes under the knife!

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I curled my lips at him. “You’re not talking fraud investigation here. Are you?”

He chuckled and took my hand in his. “Thanks for being you, Suga. I feel a bit better already.”

I figured a little attention-no, make that a lot of attention-paid toward my Gold would take his mind off his pain.

Once I had Goldie comfortably medicated and snoring away, I gently placed the mauve duvet over him, made sure the nurse’s call bell was within reach, and went to get a cup of tea. I knew Goldie would be asleep for hours, and he knew where I’d be.

I headed to the door, took one more look at him and pronounced him recovering splendidly, turned and went down the hallway to the staff’s kitchen.

Mugs hung from racks on the back of the counter, and as long as you rinsed them out and stuck them in the dishwasher, you were free to use them. Sadly I took a mug down, thinking that was Ian’s rule.

“Make sure you wash that out and stick it into the dishwasher.”

For a second I thought Ian was talking to me. I swung around to see Lydia standing in the doorway.

“How’s your patient?” she asked.

“Oh, hey, Lydia. He’s fine. Goldie is a real trouper. And, I will definitely wash out my mug.”

She took one herself and started to fix a cup of Earl Grey tea. “He’s an interesting person. Seems like a real doll. I got to spend some time with him Sunday before his surgery once you’d left.”

“Oh. Yeah, he’s one of a kind.” I wondered how much time Lydia spent around there. A young girl should be out with friends. Sailing. Eating. Talking. Laughing. But poor Lydia, today in a black silken blouse and black trousers, looked way too serious and solemn for a young girl.

She held the milk container out toward me. “Here.”

I chuckled. “You remembered that I take mine with milk. Neat.”

She didn’t crack a smile. “If nothing else, Pauline, I’m observant.”

Yikes! That sounded like some kind of warning. Did Lydia know about me? Who I really was? Naw. No way that she could.

As I sipped my too hot tea, Lydia set hers down on the counter. Only thing was, she didn’t just set it down in any casual fashion. I was talking thud with a splash here.

Anger? Was that anger that had her tea puddling onto the countertop?

Trying to change the subject so she wouldn’t start questioning me, I asked, “So, how do you like your new job? I’m sure it helps your aunt’s peace of mind to know that she has a relative working here.”

Silently Lydia turned toward me. I’d never noticed how dark black her eyes were, or maybe it was the lethal look in them when she said, “Who else can one trust?”

Eighteen

Yikes! Who else could one trust? Did Lydia know some deep, dark secret of Highcliff Manor? Sure seemed that way. Only thing was, as I watched her pick up her mug and take a drink of her tea, I certainly didn’t feel as if she’d willingly share any secrets with me.

Time to review Investigating 101.

And maybe time to meet dear Auntie-outside of this place.

I forced a laugh to lighten the mood and hopefully get Lydia talking more. “I hear you. Family is very important.”

She remained silent for a few seconds as if she were studying me. Slowly she drank her tea then said, “One would think.”

Oh, my. “Lydia, do you go to school?”

One would think dear Lydia imagined me a nutcase by her look. “I graduated from high school.”

“Not interested in college?” With her financial backing, I would have thought Lydia could get away from her aunt and Devin, with college being a godsend.

Tears welled in her eyes, making me feel horrible. “I’m sorry I brought that up. So, any plans for tonight?” I asked.

Lydia’s eyes cleared, then darkened. “Don’t try to change the subject. Ian must have told you about me.”

Yikes! “No. No, Lydia. He never said a word. Are you talking about college?”

Robotically, Lydia stood, set her mug, gently, on the counter and turned toward me. “I was accepted to Yale. In New Haven, Connecticut.”

I nodded. “I know where Yale is.” Who didn’t? But she was young and probably felt the need to explain.

“My grades weren’t that good, but I was accepted because of who I am. My father had gone there.”

All sounded great to me. A little nepotism didn’t hurt anyone.

“But…here I am.” She turned to walk toward the door.

Here I am? That was it? “Er, Lydia, I don’t get it. Why didn’t you go to college?”

When she turned to look at me, tears spilled out of her eyes, she sniffled and wiped her sleeve across her face-then spun around and walked out.

Oh…my…God.

Lydia couldn’t get away from Newport. But why? And why not go to Yale like her dad?

I finished my tea, all the while watching the door as if I half expected Lydia to come bouncing back to explain.

What the hell had made that child so unhappy?

“What’s that noise, Pauline?” Miles asked into my cell phone as I turned toward the window in Goldie’s room.

“That’s our boy snoring his way through La La Land.”

After a pause, Miles asked, “How is he?” in the softest, most concerned tone.

Someday I wished some guy would ask about me like that.

“He’s doing great. I’m about to take my lunch break so the staff nurses will keep an eye on him.”

“I know you need to leave to eat, and I’m so glad I got to meet a few of them. Kerie Cetin on today?”

“I think the second shift. Jackie Wisherd will cover me in a few-”

The door opened and Jackie stuck her head in. I waved for her to come in. “She’s here now, Miles. I’ll call you later. Love ya.”

“Love ya too and thanks.”

I smiled and flipped my phone closed then walked toward the door. “Hey. He’s doing fine. No more drainage. No more swelling. And I medicated him about twenty minutes ago. Should sleep the entire hour.”

“Great. I’ll be in and out, Pauline. And take your time. There’s no need to rush back in an hour. Sometimes the lines at The Market can be long. Oh, I assume that’s where you go for your lunch?” She smiled.

Hm. Why did my worst-case scenario mind suddenly wonder if Jackie had been spying on me. Had she coincidently seen me at The Market, or innocently assumed I’d eat there since it was so good?

“Yeah. I’m getting their clam chowder. May I get you something?”

She shook her head. “I always bring lunch. Can’t afford that place on a regular basis.”

Interesting.

I smiled, blew a kiss to Sleeping Beauty Perlman and walked out after making sure Jackie knew my cell phone number even though it was on every chart and document around.

When I stepped into the elevator, I told myself I wasn’t that hungry at the moment, and if Jackie wasn’t going to time me, I might have to make one teeny, tiny stop first.

I stood near the elevator on the main floor and watched until Lydia had walked away from the desk and out the door. She stuck a little plastic clock on the counter that said she’d be back in fifteen minutes. After looking around to make sure the coast was clear, I nonchalantly walked toward the reception area, praying no one would come around.

Surely everyone was dining on caviar and champagne for their usual lunch. That was, except Lydia and me.

All clear, I thought, and moved in for the kill.

Hoping my stomach wouldn’t suddenly growl from hunger pangs, I walked around the desk as if I belonged there. The more innocent one looked, the more innocent they’d appear.

At least that was my motto as I snooped around-and constantly prayed.

The computer files apparently had been cleaned out, as evidenced by the new file names. No more cutesy names from poor Ian. Damn. Even the “frequent flier” title was gone, so it was going to take some time for me to find it. I looked at the clock. My stomach did in fact growl, and I told myself that I’d have to pass on computer nosing around. I clicked the mouse until the screen was back to its original desktop-so Lydia would not be the wiser.

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