Lori Avocato - Nip, Tuck, Dead

Footsteps took my attention. I looked up to see one of the patients walking into the living room, her face a veritable ball of bandages. It was a wonder she could find her way around. Figured she wasn’t interested in me as she sat down and leaned back in the brocade chair. Probably taking a snooze sitting up was easier on her breathing. I’d seen her around before, and she never paid me any attention. Good thing.

I got up and went into the back room. Things were neatly arranged on the two desks and the bookshelves surrounding the room. Ian must have set it up like that, since Lydia didn’t strike me as the neatest teen on the block.

I walked behind one desk to find a black metal file cabinet with only two drawers. When I yanked on the top one, nothing happened. Locked. Damn. Yet good. Regular patient files weren’t locked up around there so whatever was inside this gem might be of help.

I flopped down into the chair and decided I needed to find the key. In order for that miracle, I needed to think like Jagger. The guy had such a knack for things like this! Slowly I looked around the desk area. Not much except a picture of Cliff Walk, a sailboat in a bottle (go figure) and a pen holder next to a little box that held letters. I assumed outgoing mail.

There was a tiny drawer in the bottom of the box.

Bingo? Maybe?

Gingerly I opened it. Two Cross pens that looked expensive, a black comb (probably left from Ian since Lydia didn’t look like a teen fashionista who cared about her hair) and a key. But my heart didn’t leap in my chest since it was the old-fashioned kind-long, slender, brass, actually an antique skeleton one that opened old-fashioned doors.

However, I picked up the key and twisted it in my hand, kinda hoping to get some positive vibes from it or even a premonition.

After several minutes I started to set it back in the box when I noticed that part of the built-in shelving had a pull-out section. Much like a roll-top desk cover, only flatter and in the center of the shelves.

As if it had called to me, I got up, took the key and held it toward the lock part. An exact match. When I stuck the key in, my heart did in fact leap in my chest as the lock clicked, and I eased the cover down like a makeshift desk.

Two papers flew to the floor. The rest of the inside had what looked like personal letters stacked and tied in blue ribbon and a few photographs. Old ones. I lifted one up. A handsome man holding a toddler-who looked very much like she’d grow into the teen Lydia-stared out at me. Had to be her late father. Wow. Olivia was definitely the lady in the next picture, holding the baby. Lydia? This time her hair looked too light. Then again, Lydia could have dyed it or her hair had darkened with age.

“Ah choo!”

I swung around to see the bandaged patient standing at the desk. “May I help you, ma’am? Oh, and God bless you.”

“Where’s Lydia?”

I nonchalantly picked up the papers, put them back, then eased the desk closed, locked it, and set the key back in the box-but not before “borrowing” the stack of letters. I would return them tomorrow.

“At lunch.” I looked at the clock as I stuffed the letters into the pocket of my scrubs. “I’m sure she’ll be-” As I made my way around the reception desk, Lydia walked in the front door.

Saved by the sneeze.

“Oh, here she is, ma’am. See you later,” I said to both of them and hurried out, ignoring the odd look on Lydia’s face.

I had to ignore it or-with my damn honest conscience-I might spill my guts about what I’d been doing, or at the very least spill the letters.

Wow. I couldn’t wait to look at them!

Even though the letters were burning a hole in my pocket, I couldn’t risk taking them out in a public place like The Market nor could I take too much longer since I needed to get back to my Goldie.

“Next?” Sheila said in her nifty brogue.

“Hey, Sheila. Guess I’m next. Clam chowder, to go. Please.”

As she fixed my chowder, I touched the stack of papers, pulling my pocket back just enough to read the address.

Mrs. Olivia Wheaton. No Chandler yet.

Great. There might be something very useful for me in these correspondences. I only hoped they weren’t some steamy love notes from Devin. Then again, Devin looked as if he didn’t know how to write.

After grabbing a stack of napkins, plastic spoon and package of oyster crackers, I paid for my lunch and hurried back the several blocks to Highcliff Manor.

Neal’s car wasn’t in the parking lot, which made me relax a bit. Not sure if I was up to seeing him after last night when he’d seen me-all of me. I smiled to myself and went inside.

Lydia was at the computer, so I quickly said hi and went to the elevator. It felt as if she was staring at me. At my pocket. As if she knew I had “borrowed” the letters. Yikes! Quickly I got onto the elevator that seemed to open its doors just in time as I heard Lydia call my name.

I stepped inside the elevator, pretending that I didn’t hear. Hey, I knew myself well enough to know that lying about taking personal property was not up my alley. I would have spilled my guts to her even if she had no suspicions at all.

When I opened the door to Goldie’s room, I was relieved to hear him snoring away. Thank goodness. Jackie was bustling about the room and stopped to look up when she heard me.

Hm?

Had she been snooping around Goldie’s personal belongings? Did she suspect us or was she more of a thief, since I recalled her making that comment about not being able to afford eating out for lunch.

Damn it. My mind was reeling out of control. Had to be guilt eating away at me. I walked in and smiled at her. “Hey. How is he?”

“Sleeping like a baby since you left. I was just straightening out the place.” She lifted a pillow from the chaise lounge, fluffed it and set it back.

I looked around. “The place looks perfect.” As it had when I left.

Seemed Jackie needed watching.

I let out a breath and wondered if I was overly suspicious of everyone around there. They all couldn’t be involved!

Or could they?

Goldie moaned.

Jackie and I swung around in his direction. I hurried to his side and leaned over. “Hey.”

“Suga?”

“None other. How you doing, Gold?” Before he could answer, I looked up to see Jackie gone-without a word. Hm again. Weird if nothing else.

“Do you need anything?” I asked, sitting down on the chair next to him.

“Water. Maybe water.”

“Sure, hon.” I poured some fresh ice water into a cup and held it out toward him. “Take it slow.”

He did, then leaned back and sighed. “Hell of a dream after taking those narcs, Suga.”

I laughed. “Oh yeah? Spill. Was I in it?”

“Ouch. Don’t make me laugh. Yes, you were in it-” He looked around the empty room. “And you and you and even Toto.”

“Oh, stop. Hey, Gold, listen to this.” I proceeded to tell him about my snooping, the letters, and whatever I’d learned about Lydia. Not wanting him to worry, I left out my suspicions about Jackie. I’d keep my eye on her myself.

“Wow. Read me the letters.” He lifted himself up on his elbows then flopped back down.

“You’re still too high on your meds, silly, and besides, I wouldn’t want someone walking in or listening outside the door. For several reasons, Gold, I don’t trust too many folks around here.”

“I hear you, but what about the good doc?” He chuckled then said “Ouch” again.

“Well, I trust him,” I said.

Goldie looked at me, whistled and said, “Good for you.”

“Stop trying to get my mind off delicious Jagger.”

“Touché.” He rolled over and moaned.

“Get some more rest, Gold. I’ll be in the chair by the window if you need me.”