Lori Avocato - Nip, Tuck, Dead

Oh, great.

The horrible thought that Ian might not be my best snitch going sprang from my brain.

I was about ready to get up and order an entire ten layer chocolate cake when dear Ian finally made my offer of lunch pay off.

“There are some frequent fliers at Highcliff.”

I put chocolate thoughts on hold. “Frequent fliers?” I knew he had to be talking about repeat customers but wanted to hear it from him. Another thing I’d learned in this business was to get clarification when a snitch told you something. Could save face and your salary in the future.

“Yeah,” he said and looked at Goldie.

Darling Gold smiled, took a sip of his Perrier and said, “Tell us about them, Ian.”

Poor Ian seemed to melt into a puddle of male receptionist with a foible for surgery viewing.

“Well,” he said with a mouthful of wrap. “There’s a couple. I guess about seven patients that keep coming back. I can’t get over how much they have had done, and the next thing I know they are back.”

Seven? Wow. I couldn’t imagine seven patients being hooked on plastic surgery or suffering from BDD in such a small town and small clinic. Then again, Newport was not exactly the boonies. These patients probably came from all over the world to the posh, world-renowned expensive clinic. I’d done my homework before allowing Goldie to volunteer as a patient-and all the docs were superb and all board certified in plastic surgery.

I leaned closer to Ian. “Seven? That sounds like a lot. How can they afford to keep coming back?” Yes, I did feel stupid saying that when I knew these ladies probably could buy and sell Hope Valley. Still, I often had to swallow my pride-and sometimes my sanity-in this job.

Ian looked at Goldie who nodded. Geez. They both were acting as if I were invisible.

“Silly Pauline,” Ian said.

I rolled my eyes but kept my mouth shut. I did have a great comeback but didn’t want to slow down his pace. We only had about five more minutes before he’d have to get back to work. Instead of telling him to get bent, I merely giggled.

Geez again. Pauline Sokol giggling.

Thank goodness Jagger wasn’t around to hear. I’d never live it down.

“Clients that come to Highcliff Manor are filthy rich,” Ian said.

His eyes darkened and that last word seemed to be forced through his clenched lips. Very interesting. Old Ian was making my day and lightening the fact of my coughing up the dough for this meal.

“Oh, I see. Lucky you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked while still looking at Goldie.

“I mean that you don’t have to deal with insurance companies.”

It was only a slight sign, and I wasn’t even certain I noted it correctly. But when Goldie’s eyes met mine in a look of “Ah-ha,” I knew that I’d read little Ian correctly.

He’d momentarily tensed when I mentioned insurance companies.

The rest of the day I spent hanging out at the reception desk, more than likely causing Ian to suffer roast beef wrap indigestion. But I had to find out more about these frequent fliers. If they could afford all their surgery-no problem, and I was stuck in a corner as far as my case was concerned.

But if for some strange reason one or more couldn’t-then maybe we were talking about a fraud investigation break in the case.

I said a silent prayer to my favorite saint, Theresa, that I was talking case break. I could sure use a bonus.

“Pauline?”

“Hm?” My head swung up to see Ian standing above me at the reception desk and looking as if he wanted to smack me. I know for sure that look said he really wanted to get rid of me. “Oh, hey. Yeah?”

“Is there something else I can do for you?”

Something else? He hadn’t done a thing for me yet. “Er…let’s see. Tell me more about Daphne Baines.” Oh…my…God. How’d that sneak out?

Ian glared at me as if he wondered how I knew Daphne Baines. If he asked, I had nothing. But just then my darling Goldie walked into the reception area-and I gave him a wink, a smile, and mouthed, Help!

Being the professional and doll that he was, Goldie came closer to the reception desk, leaned over and said, “Hi.”

Ian never took his eyes off of Goldie but said, “Daphne Baines is the queen of frequent fliers. She’s been here more times than me, and I get paid to come here daily. When she’d get to a point where she looked fabulous-”

He stared harder at Goldie, who had on a bright pink velour jogging suit that looked perfect with his blond wig-ponytail and all. Silver earrings dangled from his earlobes and a silver necklace sparkled on his neck. Good old Goldie looked sophisticated and hot all at the same time. He winked at Ian. “And?”

“…and, when she looks fabulous, she comes back for more.”

“Must get expensive,” I interjected in a soft tone so as not to break the “Goldie spell.”

Worked too since Ian continued, “Her hubby owns half of New England. But he doesn’t pay for her cutting anymore.”

Yes!

I had to get Ian to continue, but he looked as if he might snap out of his twilight infatuation at any moment. That’s when I noticed Goldie smile and bat his false eyelashes. What a guy.

“Is she independently wealthy?” I asked.

Ian shook his head. “Insurance covers her…now.”

Bingo!

Why would insurance cover her now after her husband spent thousands on nipping and tucking? It didn’t make sense.

“Interesting, Ian. Why does she file for insurance now?” No point in beating around the bush. Sure it was a long shot, but the Goldie spell hadn’t worn off yet.

“Her husband got fed up with her obsession for surgery. He refused to pay anymore.” He laughed. “Said she was obsessed and starting to look like a freaking mannequin. I heard he even threw all her credit cards into the ocean.” He laughed.

So the doctors had to come up with some medical reason why she should be nipped and tucked again. That had to be it!

Very interesting indeed.

And the Talbot’s bag had not been my imagination.

Once it seemed as if we wouldn’t get any more info out of Ian, Goldie made an excuse to talk to me about his surgery. We politely said goodbye since Ian would be off duty soon. I followed Goldie down to his suite where we both collapsed into salmon stuffed chairs and hugged silken pillows simultaneously.

“Well, that seems like a start. Huh?” I leaned back and shut my eyes. Sometimes I thought nursing was a piece of cake compared to investigating, but then again, this was much more fun-and I got to be my own boss so to speak.

Goldie flipped off his pink sneakers and set his legs over the arm of the chair. “A start. But we need to find out how these women get the insurance to cover their surgery. And why would someone with so much money deny his wife her beauty?”

I looked at him. “Gold, these are obsessive cases. They look gorgeous as it is, but are not happy. Actually, never happy and suffer the pain of-”

His eyes widened.

I waved my hand. “Oh, shoot. You won’t be having too much pain, Gold. I’ll make sure of it. I swear.”

He smiled. “I trust you, Suga. I do.”

He grabbed the remote control and pushed the power button. The local news had just started, and they were about to do the weather. Goldie pressed the mute button, leaned back and sighed.

I did the same but when I shut my eyes all I could do was think. Thinking was good, I told myself. I had to think since I was really working a case and not just doing private duty nursing for Goldie. Every so often I’d have to remind myself of that. Seemed as if going back to nursing was like riding a bike-you never forgot.

There had to be some analogy about remembering how to have sex after a long…break, but since it’d been a while, I wasn’t qualified to come up with that one. Back to work, Pauline, I thought, and thank goodness Jagger hadn’t popped into my mind.