A Dose of Murder (14 page)

He was sitting across from the doorway against the opposite wall, tea mug in hand. He looked up. “I'm calling Hammy at the furniture store. Investigating is not the career for you.”

I held out my hand, which he used to pull himself up. “No you are not. You're calling Goldie.”

His hand tensed. “What?”

“He misses you, Miles. I don't know what went down between you two—”

“Besides me?” He laughed, but it was a nervous laugh and it was not like Miles to use gay jokes.

“I'm serious. You should have seen him when he came to give me a ride. I promised myself I wouldn't interfere, but the way he looked . . . Please call him once. Then I'm out of it.”

He nodded and let it go.

I followed him down to the kitchen, where he fixed two more mugs of tea. I'd be up all night peeing, but the Sleepy-time hit the spot. I really needed tea tonight and was on the verge of asking for the caffeinated variety.

Miles sat at the counter and motioned for me to sit too. “I met Goldie at Mardi Gras one year.”

I sat and kept my mouth shut—for a change.

“He was adorable. . . .” Miles looked off toward the garden. Earlier he must have turned on the walkway lights that led around the tiny brick path.

I could only imagine that he was thinking of their first meeting.

“Goldie was dressed as a lion. But he looked like Marilyn Monroe in drag, dressed as a lion. Adorable,” he repeated. “We spent the rest of my vacation down there together. Three glorious weeks. When I had to come back to work here, Goldie came too. He'd planned to be a PI, but it didn't work out.”

I took a sip of tea and decided to let it cool more. I could use a few Oreos with it, but didn't want to interrupt Miles by getting up.

“We moved in to that apartment I had on Dearborn near Saint Greg's before I bought this place. Goldie worked nights as a bartender, days in a Dunkin Donuts, where he met this undercover narc. They hit it off, but Goldie and I were tight.

“Least I thought we were. The cop taught Goldie all he knew about being a PI. Goldie was going to try to get a job as one so I sent him over to Fabio. He hired him, and he's been there ever since.” He stopped to finish his tea. Then he stood, took the mug to the sink, rinsed it and stuck it into the dishwasher.

I remained silent and a bit confused. Who was the cop, and what happened between Miles and Goldie?

Miles turned around. “Turned out the cop was a jerk. He tried to get between us—and actually did. But not 'cause he cared for Goldie. The jerk used him 'cause he had just been dumped.

“Once he'd gained Goldie's confidence through all that he taught him, Goldie was mesmerized. He left me for the jerk, then
he
left Goldie when his ex came back. Goldie's and my relationship hadn't really cemented enough yet. That's why he left me. Goldie had a problem with trust and commitment.

“He didn't have great self-esteem at the time either. That's partly why he dresses the way he does. He's a good-looking guy, you know. So, 'cause of the cop, we both ended up hurt. You know me, Pauline. I don't do forgiveness well 'cause of my mama. So, I refused to take Goldie back. He was embarrassed that he left, and we haven't seen each other in three years.”

“Are you ready to now?”

He looked back at me. “Yes. I've never met anyone like Goldie.”

I smiled. “Neither have I.”

The next day, Adele let me into Goldie's office and I helped myself to a cup of chicory coffee. She said she did that every morning, and he expected it. When she hurried out to answer her phone, I sat on the faux fur couch and took a sip. Perfect. The coffee was delicious and was a good omen for my day—at least that's what I told myself.

“Hellooooo, suga!”

I looked up to see Goldie waltzing in. And waltz he did, in red spike heels, black chino pants and a skintight red-and-black-striped long-sleeve shirt. Slung over his arm was a raccoon coat. I couldn't tell, but it sure looked real to me.

“You walk in the snow with those on?” I looked down at my climbing boots that fit snugly around my leggings. I wore black ones today with an oversized black-and-white tweed sweater. I thought I'd better start paying attention to my wardrobe in case I had a day like yesterday.

He laughed. “I believe I walked
over
the snow today.”

I smiled. “What's got you in such a good mood?”

He came near and yanked me up from the couch and planted a kiss on my forehead. “You really don't know?”

“Finished your case?”

He waved a hand. “They'll be paying back sixty Gs, but that's not it.” He let me go and looked me in the eyes. “You really don't know?”

“No, Gold, but you're killing me with suspense.”

“My Miles called.”

I let out a whoop. He grabbed me and danced around. Adele rushed in with her arms flailing.

“What? What's the excitement about? Don't let Adele miss out on a thing!”

“Got my man back, Adele.”

“Miles?” She hooted and kissed him on the cheek. Good thing she wore such high navy heels in order to reach.

Fabio stood in the doorway. “When all the excitement is over, I'd like to see some fucking work get done around here.”

I felt the urge to defend my friends. “Goldie finished his case.”

Fabio ran his fingers along his chin. “Fabulous, Ms. Sokol. And what about yours?”

Ack.

“I'm helping her wrap it up today, Boss,” Goldie said.

Fabio held out a manila folder. “No, you're not. Here's your next one.” He turned toward me. “Probation means you do your goddamndest, lady, if you want to be made permanent.” With that he turned and walked out.

In unison, Goldie and Adele said, “Cocksucker extraordinaire.”

Something told me they'd used that term for Fabio before.

We both mumbled some ripe curses after Fabio left.

“We probably should do some work before Fabio comes back in,” I said to Goldie after we sat silently for what seemed like an hour, then I filled him in on the rest of yesterday. He had the same reaction as Miles, and gasped when I told him that Tina had two houses.

Adele had followed Fabio, and I heard her chiding him all the way down the hallway. I only hoped he didn't fire her. She was a gem, a friend, and I'd miss her terribly. That was if I kept my job.

Goldie stirred. “You're right, we'd better get to work.” He opened the file Fabio had given him. “Shit. I won't be able to help you today, suga. This one's going to be a bitch. I'll be up at night following this jerk around. Night watchman. Sheeeet.”

I stood up and pulled my sweater down. “Thanks for the coffee. Good luck with Miles, too.”

He winked at me. “Want me to see what Nick is up to?”

“No! I mean, no thanks. I have to start out on my own sooner or later.”

“What about Jagger?”

“Thanks for
that
reminder.”

He smirked at me. “Now don't go getting your panties all in a knot over that guy, suga. I told you about him.”

“Yes, but is he FBI? I mean I wouldn't have cooperated with him if I thought he wasn't.”

Goldie tapped a black nail against his tooth. “I can't rightly say, suga, but that's still my best guess. Either way he won't physically hurt you, as I said, but he is one hell of a mysterious guy. I'd be tempted to lock lips with him myself—”

“You think he's gay!” I've never heard my voice sound so horrified, even when Doc Taylor suggested we get married about a hundred years ago.

Goldie laughed. “You didn't let me finish. I was going to say, if he swung my way. He doesn't. I can tell these things.”

I wondered if someone who looked like Marilyn Monroe could really tell about another man. Then again, this was Goldie, and he'd proven to be quite knowledgeable about everything else. “You think I should have told him who I am? What I do for a living?”

“I think he already knew, suga. That's Jagger.”

“What? You're kidding me!” But I knew he wasn't. It did seem as if Jagger wasn't surprised when I told him. Damn. I liked him not knowing since I didn't know about him.

“Maybe a good idea to take that temporary job Tina mentioned. You could see her at the office if she goes there.” He shoved the file folder closed.

“I don't know. It might help, yet I'd hate to take a nursing job. Seems counterproductive to my sanity.”

Goldie laughed. “But Fabio hired you for your background. You of all people should be able to tell if someone is faking.”

“She's faking, all right. If I had a decent video camera last night, one that worked in the dark, I could prove it.” I walked to the door, not really certain where I was going but knowing I'd better do something fast. “You think Fabio will fire me if I don't finish this case soon?”

Goldie hurried over, took me into his arms and held me.

“Shit,” I mumbled to his chest.

This day had started out wonderfully with the chicory coffee, but it was taking a downward spiral to hell, I thought as I drove out of the parking lot—in no particular direction. I could head over to Tina's, but which house? They were on opposite ends of town and it wasn't as if I could run back and forth between the two to try and catch her.

I turned left onto Hillside Avenue and got stuck at the light. The road ahead was backed up to the intersection and there were no side streets to take.

Okay, this was getting to be a not so good day.

Chime. Chime
.

Great. My cell phone. Who would be calling me here? I grabbed my purse and dug around until I found it. I pushed the green button and held it to my ear. “Hello.”

“Package here for you.” It was Miles's sleepy voice.

“Really?”

“No. I got up early on my day off to fool you.”

“Speaking of having a late night, I heard about your phone call. Well, not any details.”

“I wasn't speaking of any late night, but yeah. Goldie and I talked for hours.”

“I'm glad. Now tell me more about the package.”

“Geez. Such concern for my love life.” He laughed. “It's sitting right here on the counter.”

My hand started to shake and my heart did a three sixty in my chest. “Is it from Parker and Smith Inc.?”

“That'd be the one.”

“Oh Miles! That's my equipment.”

I heard him shuffling around and guessed he was getting himself some coffee. “Great. Now you can do the job like the consummate professional that you are.”

“I'm not really that professional—yet. I will be though. Give me a few cases under my belt, and I'll be giving Goldie a run for his money.”

“You go, girl. I'm off to the tub. Lavender bubbles to celebrate—”

“The arrival of my equipment?”

“My late-night phone call.”

“You go, guy.” We laughed. “I'm stuck in traffic, but will be there as soon as this bottleneck clears.” I hung up and shoved the phone into my purse. Damn. Traffic stretched out for miles in front of me. Maybe I could back up into some driveway and get going in the other direction. I looked into my rearview mirror.

About five cars behind me was a black Suburban.

“Damn it!” My good day had had an upswing, and now it was cascading downward again. The guy must have better things to do than follow me around.

I didn't do anything illegal!

I decided to ignore him and motioned for the car behind me to move back a bit. The driver, a woman in a red Dodge Caravan, obligingly eased back a few inches. It was enough for me to back into the driveway of a white colonial. I eased through the space in the line and turned left, away from the congestion.

As I got near the Suburban, I floored it without a glance.

I wasn't sure, but I thought I might have seen a woman at the steering wheel out of the corner of my eye. If it was, she'd given me a hell of a look. I'd have to check out Jagger's license plate next time I saw the Suburban.