Deadly Dosage (31 page)

     “Dear
Lord. You people have enough damn forms around here. Well, don’t just stand
there, bring it in.”

     Donna
looked to me for help. I reached into my trick bag and came up empty. Trick.
Treat. I had it.

     “If
you go with Miss Dombrowki, there are some pastries and donuts in her office.”
Leftovers I remembered seeing from earlier in the day.

     The
kid pulled on his mother’s arm. “I wanna donut, I wanna donut.”

     “Get
up, Karl. We’ll be right back, Dad. Drink your juice.”

     Karl
followed his wife and kid out of the room with Donna in the lead. I walked over
to Mr. Schroeder.

     “Drink
this instead, Mr. Schroeder,” I said pulling the orange juice bottle from the
brown paper bag and unscrewed the top. “I filled it with cold water. I know the
orange juice upsets your stomach.” I carefully screwed the cap back on the
orange juice his daughter brought with her and placed it in the brown paper bag
without touching more than the cap.

     “What
if she finds out? I don’t want her to be mad at me.”

     “She
won’t know, Rodney,” Mr. Harper said. “Just drink it before she comes back.” To
me he said, “Good thinking.”

Mr. Schroeder started drinking the water. I left before she
returned so I could stash the bag in my drawer before she came to my office.

Shantel
ushered the Fosters into my office and the level of oxygen decreased by fifty
percent. Her lavender perfume combined with his musk aftershave into a
nauseating aroma that filled my nostrils and made me wish I had a window to
open. The little brat kept grabbing at my roses, so I moved them to the other
side of my desk, out of his reach.

     She
sat and Karl stood. The brat ran circles around his father.

     “So
where’s the proof you mentioned on the phone.”

     “Here
are the explanation of benefit forms I received from his insurance company
showing that payment was denied. I also made a copy from your father’s Medicare
handbook, explaining about the coinsurance. Here is the daily rate he is being
charged.”

     She
shuffled through the paperwork with little expression on her face.

     “Also,
without his insurance, once his Medicare ends he’ll have to pay the full cost
of any prescriptions he receives. He’s frequently in the hospital, Mrs. Foster.
I’m assuming his insurance covered the majority of the costs there as well.”

     “Sunny,
if you haven’t noticed, my father isn’t well. I don’t expect him to live much
longer. He could be gone any day now.”

     “I
wouldn’t say that. Even if that were the case, he’ll still be losing money. His
debt isn’t forgiven if he dies. You’re responsible for his bills being paid,
since you are controlling his money.”

     “I’m
not responsible for anything.”

     “You
signed the admission paperwork, therefore you are responsible. I would strongly
suggest renewing his insurance.”

     “I’ve
heard enough, Karl. Let’s go.” She stood up. “If you try to send me to
collections, I’ll sue for the crappy care. I’m sure I’ll win when my dad dies
from the incompetence of the staff here. His frequent hospital trips are my
proof you people don’t know what you’re doing.”

     They
left in a huff, but not before the little brat tore off the open buds on three
of my roses and spread the petals on the floor.

     I
dialed Donna.

     “Hey,
what happened?” I asked before she answered.

     “They
ate all the stale donuts! What do you want me to do with the phony form?”

     “Shred
it. It never happened.”

     “Gotcha!”

     “Thanks,
Donna. I owe you a drink Friday night. Oh, by the way, can you give me a lift
home on Friday? Sam’s taking my car in to have the scrape fixed. If you want,
you can get ready at my apartment, that way you don’t have to go home after
dropping me off.”

     “Sure.
I’ll just bring my junk to work with me. Can I hang it up in your office? I
don’t have the room or a hook.”

     “No
problem. I have to watch the phones until I leave, so I’ll talk to you later.”

     I
turned off my computer and straightened my desk. Overall, a rather unproductive
day, but I had the orange juice bottle and I hoped it helped solve the mystery
of Mr. Schroeder’s illness.

Chapter
37

Lloyd
pulled to the curb, two blocks down from Loco Gato Mexican Restaurant. Years of
poverty and neglect turned the neighborhood into near slum conditions. Windows
were boarded up and wood siding held the scars of previous fires caused by
faulty wiring or careless cigarettes. My expression mimicked my lack of
enthusiasm for exiting his car.

     “Looks
worse than it is,” offered Lloyd, holding the passenger door open.

     “Un huh.
Are cockroaches a side dish?” I said uneasily. I detested all types of bugs but
cockroaches make my skin crawl.

     He
laughed. “Honestly, it’s a clean and respectable establishment. And I promise
you won’t get knifed on the way in.”

     “What
about on the way out?” I asked wearily.

     He
laughed again. “I’ll steal a knife from the restaurant for protection.”

     This
earned him a grin and I got out of his car, clenching my handbag tightly.

      We
walked arm in arm the short distance to the restaurant. The one-story building’s
pitted, cream-colored bricks, known as Cream City bricks, were darkened from
years of pollution. Like an old storefront, two large windows protruded on
either side of a narrow entrance leading to the door. Each window’s border
displayed chipped, hand-painted vines with pink and orange hibiscus blossoms.
Nothing could be seen from the dimly lit interior.

Mexican music spilled outside when Lloyd opened the door.
With such a dreary exterior, I wasn’t expecting much. However, unlike many
restaurants that exhibit campy or flamboyant decorations, Loco Gato possessed
elegant, understated Spanish charm, with wrought iron trim, highly polished
walnut wood, and huge terra cotta planters with hibiscus plants.

     A
waiter led us to a small booth towards the rear of the restaurant in a quiet
corner. Small lamps sat on each table giving off a soft, romantic yellow hue.
He placed two menus down and left.

Lloyd helped me remove my coat and placed it on the supplied
coat hook. He gazed down the length of my dress.

“What?” I said.

“Did you know you have a scorched iron print on the back of
your dress, right here,” he said slapping my butt.

I turned my head and pulled my dress forward trying to see.
“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

I quickly sat down to hide it. “I’m going to kill her! This
is the first time I’ve worn this and she’s already ruined it! She could have at
least told me about it.”

Lloyd sat across from me. “Who are you talking about?”

“Brandi, that’s who. I let her borrow this for her interview
and she ruined it. Damn it. It cost me plenty too. I wanted to look nice
tonight.”

“You still look pretty,” Lloyd said diffusing my anger. He
handed me a large menu displaying a black cat wearing an orange sombrero on the
front.  

     I
pointed to it. “Looks like Rufus.”

     “Si,
Rufus es un gato loco,” he replied in perfect Spanish.

“Usted habla
español?” I asked, showing off the only Spanish I remembered from high
school.

“Un poco,” he replied.

“And that means?”

     “A little. Sometimes helpful in my line of work. I pick up a word
here and there.”

     “So gringo, what do you suggest?” I asked opening the menu.

     “Well, their specialty tonight is fajitas but I prefer the
enchiladas myself. If you’re not sure, they have combination platters. This is
authentic Mexican food, so the entrees might taste different than you’re
accustomed to at other restaurants.”

     I scanned the extensive menu. While I was deciding, Lloyd
ordered a pitcher of regular margaritas. The waiter took his order and returned
with a basket of chips and an assortment of salsas, guacamole dip, and jalapeno
cheese dip.

     “Ready?” he asked when the waiter returned with our margaritas.

     “Yeah. Um, I’ll have the beef and cheese enchilada platter with
rice.” I closed the menu and handed it to him.

     “And for the gentleman,” the waiter asked.

     “I’ll have the same but with extra sauce.”

      The waiter took his menu and nodded, leaving us alone.

     “If I remembered correctly, you like margaritas?” he asked
pouring into the glasses on the table.

     “My favorite.” I threw caution to the wind and took my first
sip. Fantastic. I licked my salty lips.

     I spooned some of each dip on my plate and tried the guacamole
first. A tad spicy but very yummy.

     “My sister has one of those,” he said reaching for my dangling
charm bracelet.

     “Present from my dad.” I ate another chip as he looked at the
charms.

     “Jefferson Memorial…”

     “Trip to DC with my family when I was eleven.”

     “Ah, Cave of the Mounds, I’ve been there.” He went on to the
next charm. “Book?”

     “I like reading.”

     He nodded and went on. “Ballet shoes. Are you a dancer?”

     “Long story,” I said eating another chip, this time with the
cheese dip.

He looked interested, so I continued.

“Let’s just say I didn’t have enough patience
to pursue that dream but I loved the shoes.”

He smiled and sipped some of his margarita.

     “Two broken hearts?” he looked at me for an explanation.

     “Autumn and Spring each have a half. Like friendship hearts,
only sister hearts. They don’t have charm bracelets. They wear theirs on a
chain.”

     “This is your birthstone?” he said holding up the charm with the
pearl.

     “Yes, June 21
^st
.”

     “Beginning of summer. Mine’s January 15th.”

     “Capricorn. I’m a Gemini. Astrologically speaking, we’re a good
pair.”

     “Is that so?” He moved on to the next charm and my heart
momentarily stopped.

     “This is familiar,” he said, glancing up. “I bought one of these
for grandmother’s birthday around Valentine’s Day. She actually thought it was
a real diamond and it took me an hour to convince her it was only cubic
zirconia. She doesn’t like expensive gifts—grew up in the depression.”

     I nearly choked on my chip. He proposed with a charm Lloyd gave
his grandma? No diamond! That cheap S.O.B.!

     He shifted the top heart and read out loud, “Summer, your heat
consumes me.” He paused and swallowed. “I need you always. Will you marry me?
Sam.” He put my hand down on the table and finished half of his margarita.

     I did the same and he refilled our glasses.

     He gave a short laugh. “I don’t know why guys even bother buying
real diamonds when women are so easily fooled with a fake,” he said, attempting
a joke.

     I didn’t feel like laughing.

     “I take it, no engagement ring?” he said, putting his tongue in
his cheek. He made a clicking sound. “Sunny, most guys who are serious propose
with a ring. The way Sam bragged about how much money he made, I thought for
sure he selected at least a one karat solitaire for you.”

     I shook my head and crammed a loaded chip into my mouth. I
swallowed and suddenly it felt necessary to defend Sam.

     “Well, it’s the thought that counts. Besides, the engraving is
romantic.” So there. “I’m sure,” I started. But I wasn’t sure of anything
anymore so I let it drop. I swallowed more of my margarita and our meals
arrived.

     “You’re sure what?” Lloyd wasn’t going to let it drop.

     “Let’s just forget it. I didn’t come out with you to talk about
Sam. I only wore the bracelet because it looked good with my burnt dress.”

     He laughed merrily and then captured my eyes with his. In a
serious tone he said, “Maybe your heat consumed the dress.”

     This time I started laughing and nearly choked on my margarita.
This made him laugh more.

     I managed to cough out, “Smart-ass.”

     “Need some water?”

     “No, I’m okay.”

     We chatted while we ate. The meal put Bella Mementos to shame.
The margaritas went down smoothly and soon I began feeling frisky as a kitten.

     I ran my fingers across his chin. “I like that five’o clock
shadow. Very sexy.”

     “I think you’ve had enough margaritas. How much did you drink
anyway?”

     “Lloyd, poyd, moyd…hey, nothing rhymes with Lloyd. Now with me,
there’s sunny, bunny, funny…”

     “I think you need some coffee.”

     “I think I need a real diamond to replace this cheap piece of
shit!” I yelled, dangling the Sam charm in his face.

     “Shush, Sunny.” He laughed and motioned for the waiter. “Two
coffees,” he yelled over. The waiter nodded and retreated to the kitchen.