Lori Avocato - Dead On Arrival

“Neither? How can you be sure?”

He wiped a napkin briskly across his lips. “I’m not. Just guessing, and frankly, Nightingale, I couldn’t give a shit.”

Well, I certainly could!

Damn, but it was romantic cleaning up after our meal. Dano was cute and said whoever cooked shouldn’t clean, but in my gut I knew I should be helping. So, we did it together and now we sat on the couch in the living room with some soft piano music playing in the background. Romantic? Yeah. Did I wish I didn’t keep noticing that stupid cabinet in the kitchen while cleaning up? Damn it. Yeah.

I had to go check it out soon or my hormones might betray me. Hey, I was human and didn’t feel as if Dano was really a threat. However, I drew the line at making out with a possible criminal, so I had to get myself into gear so I could shift into another kind of gear.

Dano reached over to put his arm around me. With the other hand he touched my cheek very gently, running his finger down to my lips, which he encircled.

Oh, boy…

“Hey, I have to use the little girls’ room.” I removed his hand reluctantly and got up.

“No problem. I have a few phone calls to make anyway.” He got up and walked to the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, this thing doesn’t get very good reception in this old place.” He held out his cell phone. “Gotta go outside each time I want a clear, uninterrupted call. Take your time. Help yourself to more wine too, and feel free to refill mine.”

When he stepped out and closed the door, I looked up to heaven and winked. “If only you’d make each and every case this easy.” With that, I hurried into the kitchen to the cabinet-that could make or break my night.

Or, make that more than just this one night.

I kept looking at the front door to make sure that Dano hadn’t popped back in. Certainly he didn’t suspect me of anything. Of that much I was sure. Because if ER Dano had suspected me of being about to snoop, he wouldn’t have left me alone in the house. Nope. I never got any sense of suspicion on his part.

Since the coast looked clear, I hurried into the kitchen, propping the swinging door open a crack in order to hear the front door open. The whiteness of the place gave an eerie feeling, whereas when I first saw it, it looked as if it belonged in a featured article of House Beautiful.

Had to be my CSIC acting up, but since I had a job to do, I pretended I’d gone to public school as a kid and was Lutheran. That helped a bit as I walked to the cabinet where the papers had been stashed.

When I touched the cabinet’s door handle, I half expected the papers to be gone when I opened it.

But there they sat. All in a messed-up pile, but still there. Dano really hadn’t suspected me of anything and must not have known that I’d already seen them.

I looked toward the door and listened for a few seconds. Nothing except the grandfather clock’s gongs signaling the hour. It had been dark outside for a bit, so I realized that anyone walking by the bay windows could clearly see inside the kitchen. Realizing that gave me pause, but I turned back to the matter at hand, deciding I had to take chances in this business.

The papers on the top were all about overcharged payments made by TLC. Things like extra charges for oxygen or nurse transport when other documentation showed that these were not the case. Plus, I knew the ambulance charge was a flat rate and it was against the law to charge for some things individually.

I read through several more papers and found out that Sky’s flights were making much more money than they should. Hmm. Insurance companies were being charged for ground miles, which included every twist and turn through the streets, instead of air miles, which were direct shots through the air.

Yep. A big difference.

Sky’s signature was on several of these forms.

I leaned against the counter to digest this information. My potato pancakes started to rise in my throat. Was Sky somehow involved? Did he fall in love with Pansy and then decide he wanted to get ownership of TLC by using her-and she found out?

Jilted lovers again.

They made great suspects.

A few of the other papers had notes in the margins. Handwritten notes that I would bet my life were in Dano’s handwriting. I’d read some of his daily run sheets, and the writing looked the same, as far as I remembered. Only on these, he’d explained how medications could be double charged. When the paramedic cracked open the glass vial of a medication to give to a patient, the half-full vial was to be turned in to the ER nurse for replacement.

But Dano’s note said some of the medication could have been replaced with saline and when the nurse went to discard it, she’d never know. The patient would be charged for the medication, and the paramedic could have used the rest on him or herself or sold it in one of the crack houses over on Lincoln Street. Lord knew those poor souls would buy just about anything.

After going through everything that I read, I really wasn’t convinced of anything. As a matter of fact, I was more confused. Dano’s notes almost sounded as if he were-

“What the hell are you doing with those?” he said from behind. “Geez. Damn. Now what, Pauline?”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. My heart started to race. In the glass of the cabinet door, I could see the serious, almost threatening face of a very pissed ER Dano. And in his hand was a shiny metal object.

A knife. A knife!

“No!” I screamed and swung around to defend myself against the knife-wielding ER Dano. Although my instincts had been wrong about him, I wasn’t going to let my feelings get in the way.

My life depended on it.

After all, he’d killed Payne, stabbed Pansy and hidden the fraud evidence in his house!

Without another thought and in only a few seconds, I had the pink pepper spray locket in my hands, aimed and sprayed.

“Aye!” he screamed and dropped his knife.

I went to kick it to the side, but Dano grabbed me by the shoulders.

“What the hell? That feels like a freaking Habanera pepper in my face! Goddamn! Even my ears burn. Jesus! What the hell are you-” He nearly shook me so hard I was about to knee him in the groin when I caught a glimpse of the knife near the kitchen table.

I blinked.

Then blinked again.

Cell phone.

Dano’s cell phone lay on the floor.

He’d let me go and hurried to the sink to run water over his face. Between breaths and gurgles, he cursed at me and asked over and over why the hell I sprayed him.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the phone.

Dano didn’t have a knife. But did that make him any less guilty of something else?

I hurried to his side and grabbed the water sprayer to help. “I thought you…you had a knife. I thought you were going to…what the hell are you doing with all those papers, Dan?” I kept spraying until he pushed my hands away, grabbed a towel and stood up.

His face was brighter than a boiled lobster.

“You’re gonna have to explain that one, Nightingale. That is, if I live. My eyes are crying like a damn baby’s. My mouth is drooling like a freaking waterfall!”

“Oh, geez. And your nose is running like a sick kid’s. I am so sorry!” Despite the look he tried to give me through his pain, I said, “Get your shirt off. The effects won’t be as bad.” I grabbed his shirt and tugged.

“Yeah, not as bad,” he muttered.

The spray obviously caused the mucus membranes of his nose and throat to swell, which made it difficult for him to breathe. His eyes had swollen shut, and I knew beneath the reddened lids they were as bloodshot as if he’d drunk a case of tequila.