Lori Avocato - Dead On Arrival

“Well, gotta run.” I made it to the doorway, but her voice yanked me back. I swung around just in time to hear her say, “You’re in your thirties, Pauline. For God’s sake, wear a thong.”

Once in my car and on the road, I could barely drive after the verbal shock Stella Sokol had given me.

And yet, I still loved her.

I kept the potato pancakes in the oven on low and hoped to hell they wouldn’t dry out. Mother’s never did, but that didn’t mean a thing, considering my cooking skills.

After my shower, I headed to my room to get dressed. When I opened the dresser drawer, I noticed a thong she’d left there-amid the rest of my undies, which I’d promptly replaced with bikinis and even some briefs that I only wore to work. Hey, I didn’t want any panty lines on my scrubs.

When I went to get a bikini pair, my hand-all by itself, mind you-drifted over and picked up the yellow thong. I held it up to figure out how women actually put the damn things on when from behind me a voice said, “Yellow is your color, Sherlock.”

I shoved the thong behind my back and swung around. “You…what are you-”

Jagger stood in the doorway, looking at my robe, which had now fallen open a tad, revealing some cleavage.

I yanked it shut, but when I did, the thong swung around in my hand. Turning, I threw it into the drawer and decided not to try to explain that my mother had bought it.

“Goldie let me in.” He leaned against the wall, looking oh-so delicious.

“Oh.” I held the robe for dear life. “Wait. Goldie isn’t even home!”

Jagger waved his hand as if he had no intention of explaining how he got in and, frankly, I didn’t care. When I looked at him standing there, my first thought was-he came. He’s going to ER Dano’s with me.

Jagger thinks Dano is guilty.

While hugging my robe, I felt my heart plummet in my chest. Shit. I didn’t want that to be true. “You think Dano is guilty, then?”

Jagger curled his lips. “One of these days you’re going to have to explain how your mind works. I mean, one moment you’re ogling sexy lingerie and the next, you’re making statements out of left field. What the hell are you asking?” He sauntered in and sat on the edge of my bed.

Yeah, I was in real good condition to explain things now. Even I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking. I looked at Jagger and then at the door, hoping Goldie or Miles would come in. After a few seconds, traitor Spanky walked in and directly up to Jagger, who lifted the dog up onto the bed.

What an adorable sight!

But I had work to do and part of that was to get dressed. So, I summoned my logical thoughts and said, “If you come with me to Dano’s, then you must think he’s guilty and are worried about my safety.”

Jagger looked at me. “I don’t think. I do.” With that he scooped up Spanky, and walked out the door. “Get dressed.”

I stuck my hands on my hips and then realized how childish that must look, so instead I stuck my tongue out at his back.

I wore the yellow thong.

That thought stuck in my head as I walked down the stairs in my condo to go to the kitchen. Jagger was seated on the couch, watching CNN. Without looking, he said, “Shatley said the two stabbings are related. Not that we didn’t know that.”

“Did he say anything about Sky?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” I continued on toward the kitchen.

Suddenly I could feel him glaring at me, and I could swear he knew, just knew, that I had on the thong.

“Shut up,” I said and walked by.

He scowled as if genuinely confused. But instead of admitting something like that, he said, “Call me as soon as you’ve found out what you need to know.” He got up, walked to the door and left.

My mouth hung open for a few seconds, I looked at Spanky and said, “Shut up,” and then hurried into the kitchen, where I packaged up our meal. I had fifteen minutes to get to Dano’s or be late. I hated being late and prided myself in being on time.

On the way out the door I had a thought: our meal. I’d thought our meal, but it could be the last if I found anything suspicious in Dano’s cabinets-or if I found out the reason the papers were there.

Then again, Jagger wasn’t coming.

Jagger wasn’t coming!

“You are one hell of a cook, Nightingale,” Dano said as he took another bite of potato pancake. “Damn. I’m impressed.”

My CSIC (Catholic-school-induced conscience) said I should tell him the truth, but for the moment, I reveled in the compliment and thought, hell, he might be lying about something much more serious than potato pancakes, so why not let him believe the cooking was mine?

I really didn’t want to like him. I really didn’t want to think of this as a date. I really didn’t want him to be guilty!

“Thanks,” I muttered and stuffed my mouth with a glob of sour cream. Yuck! I cut a piece of pancake and ate it to wash down the sour cream.

Dano looked at me, rather oddly, I might add. “What’s wrong?”

I waved my hand and took a sip of wine. “Oh, nothing. Just too much sour cream.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

He almost sounded angry. At least he did sound serious. Wow. Suddenly my mind snapped to attention, and I touched my finger to the pink locket-which I’d used once already on this case-hanging around my neck. A Jagger present. A very appropriate, albeit not romantic, present. Pepper spray. The locket contained pepper spray for me to use on my cases. Yes, Jagger did not trust me with a gun. Something about my foot and shots being fired-by me.

But one of these days…

While fingering the locket, I also ran through the self-defense moves Jagger had taught me. I only hoped I wouldn’t have to use them on Dano, since we’d done other moves that were much more pleasant… Geez. Just my luck.

If I didn’t keep reminding myself that Jagger wasn’t here-he actually didn’t come-then I might start to get a bit frightened. When I looked across the table with the handmade crocheted tablecloth, I found it hard to believe this guy could be a criminal, much less a murderer.

“How’s Pansy?” I asked.

Dano hesitated.

Why? What made him do that? I headed into investigative mode and decided no matter how hot he was or how much I liked this guy, I had to find out the truth very soon.

He looked at his food. “She’s had a setback.”

Damn! “What kind?”

“Fever. The report is that she started talking, but with her temp 103, seemed she wasn’t making any sense.” He took a sip of his wine and looked at me.

To whom? Maybe what Pansy was saying made perfect sense to my case. “Interesting. What was she saying?”

“Jennifer went to visit her and said she kept repeating Sky’s name over and over.”

Gulp. I wished I could share what I knew about Sky and Pansy with Dano. Maybe he even knew about it or knew something that would make sense. “Hmm. That doesn’t make sense to me. Does it to you?”

Dano sipped his wine and shrugged. “Guess it might.”

Bingo. “Might? How’s that?”

“Well, he worked for her. Sky’s only been at TLC a few years, but he used to take Pansy on helicopter rides. She was interested in flying them.”

That’s not all she was interested in.

“Hmm. Maybe she was interested in Sky too.” I forced a chuckle.

Dano didn’t join me, but said, “Naw. Pansy’s not interested in boys.”

“She’s gay?” I nearly choked on my wine. What about the sex chair and the fact that she’d mentioned Sky’s name to Lilla and I?

“Not gay. I think neither. She’s never really had a life outside of work.” He wiped a dollop of applesauce up with the remainder of the potato pancake and stuffed it into his mouth. Stella Sokol would be thrilled to see a guy enjoying her work of art like that.