The Stiff and the Dead (11 page)

I watched her go, wondering how and why she'd chosen to wear such gigantic platform shoes with her long skirt. I mean, someone could fall off those things and get hurt. As I was pondering Hildy's clothing, I couldn't believe my luck. Something caught my eye at the pharmacy counter.

Well, not something, but
someone.

Someone you'd have to be legally blind to miss. One Sophie Banko, standing there, big as, well, to be charitable, I'd go with the cliché big as
day,
knowing
house
would be more appropriate. But, I'd decided, in my new line of work I needed all the help from above that I could get, and insulting someone, even just in my thoughts, surely couldn't do me any good.

I leaned forward to try and hear what Sophie was saying to the pharmacist. It wasn't Leo, I assumed, but someone else. An older gentleman with graying hair, stocky build and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Then I saw Sophie give a wave to another man who I guessed was Leo. Back in my floor-nursing days, I'd been known as “psychic Sokol” because I could almost predict when a patient's condition was going to go into the toilet. Not literally. But more like when they were going to have some complications.

Gut feeling.

And I had that right now as Sophie waved again.

Hmm.

When Hildy got back and sat down, I looked at her and was about to ask a question about Sophie. A nonchalant question so as not to arouse any suspicion. Then she yawned and I got a load of her tongue. Biggest tongue ring I've ever seen. Had to be the size of a sourball. A big silver sourball, which jiggled a bit when she yawned. I couldn't stop myself from staring, and noticed Hildy had more artificial holes in her body than a piece of Swiss cheese. Ears—about ten earrings between the two—nose—both sides—and two on each eyebrow. When I looked down toward her chin, she said, “Yep, bellybutton and nipple rings.”

I gasped. “Ouch.”

“You have to suffer to be beautiful.”

I sensed little Hildy was trying to cover up a lack of self-esteem by trying to show the world she didn't care. But I doubted that when I looked into her green eyes. There was a sadness there, and, my old nursing skills had me wanting to help the poor kid. Besides, I could be helping Jagger and myself too.

“Suffer to be beautiful. Who's the moron who came up with that one?” I laughed.

She hesitated and then joined me. From behind, a ghost of a man appeared. Again I gasped.

Hildy turned. “Shit. What?”

“This isn't a social, Jones. Get these passed out.” He threw a handful of white-bagged prescriptions onto her desk.

I didn't know what to say as I watched his beady eyes give me the once-over, then he turned to reveal a “monk-style” balding head. He'd spoken with a lisp, and I believe I'd noted a pocket protector in his white shirt. A nerd with attitude.

“Who was that?”

Hildy curled her lip. I thought the silver sourball had to hurt in that position. When she uncurled, she said, “Leo ‘The Shit' Pasinski.” She grabbed the bags. “Gotta go.”

“Let me help you.” I stood.

She looked at me oddly. “No one's ever offered to help me.”

A bit saddened, I touched her arm. “I'm off duty now and free. Let me help.”

“What about the patient that needs the prescription?”

Caught up on observing Hildy and Leo, I'd forgotten about “Lance.” “Well, I guess he'll come get it himself. You're right. It isn't a life-saving medication. Maybe he skipped out without it.”

Fat chance, I told myself. But I also told myself that Jagger would come get it on his own terms.

I called patients' names while Hildy worked the cash register and insurance info.
That
I was interested in. I gazed down at one clipboard Medicaid patients had to sign when they got their medicine. Another was for all other insurances. The second list was minute compared with the Medicaid one, although I'd noted a lot of seniors had supplemental insurance since they didn't qualify for Medicaid. So, Leo dealt with the elderly more. No great surprise though, since this entire conglomerate catered to the elderly. Who else used doctors and medicine more?

A line had formed with everyone waiting for his or her name to be called. I'd found out from Hildy that the pharmacy stayed open a few hours after the clinic closed. When that tidbit had come out, I excused myself and ran back to get my purse and jacket before the doors to the clinic section were locked.

Now, with no date to hurry home to, I planted myself in the pharmacy to “help” Hildy. Another pharmacist came for her shift, which made more work for Hildy. I hadn't seen that pharmacist before. She had dark hair and seemed to keep to herself.

Jagger never showed, so his medication was put in the bins. I actually noticed there were a lot of bags left in there. Nothing unusual about that. Lots of times doctors called in medications or patients left the prescription and came back later. I knew that much without asking.

Hildy reached into the bin after a patient came to the counter. She rifled through the bags and then cursed.

“Something wrong?” I came closer.

She stuck her finger into her mouth. “Thupid shit. He always screws up with the thapler.”

At first I could only stare. Then the words sunk in as my mind translated Hildy's finger-in-the-mouth-talk. “Oh, here. What are you looking for?”

With her finger still in place and sucking, she said, “Fwed Fwanklin.”

Fred Franklin. “Let me.” I gingerly reached into the bin marked
E-F.
I lifted a few bags. Hm. Several felt too light. I scowled and turned to look at Hildy. Caught up in her injury, she wasn't looking. So, I looked down to read the bag I held in my hand. Erythromycin. A prescription should feel a bit heavier. I examined the bag and did feel the round plastic bottle. Then, taking one more look at Hildy, I shook it. Nothing. Sounded empty. The pharmacist who had “filled” it was Leo.

Hmm, again.

“I don't have all day, ladies.” This from a tiny wrinkled man waiting at the counter.

I wondered where he'd be going in such a hurry, but kept my mouth shut and found Fred Franklin on a white bag. I turned and handed it to him. “Any questions for the pharmacist?” I'd heard Hildy say that several times.

“Yeah. Why the hell am I so constipated?”

“It could be the medication, but you should ask your doctor about taking a daily stool softener.”

With that he nodded and took out his supplemental insurance card. Hildy finally took her finger out of her mouth and rang up the charge.

A few hours later, complete exhaustion had set in, and I'd noticed Hildy had another body part pierced, I sank down into a chair. “I'm beat.”

She finished writing something on the clipboard and looked at me rather strangely. “I'm not sure why you stayed here, Pauline, but . . . thanks. Lots of nights I'm here way past closing. Leo leaves me in the lurch, the shit. But thanks to you, I can take off now.”

Take off now?

I'd helped, but hadn't learned anything to help my case. Leo was gone, too. Damn. If I could get Hildy to stick around a bit longer, maybe I could find something out. “I know what you mean. I'm starving.”

She looked at me. Maybe someone with all that metal piercing her body had a lack of appetite. The sourball thing alone would knock the hell out of mine.

“Yeah. I could eat too.”

Bingo. “Hey, let me take you to . . .” Where? Where could I take Hildy that no one would notice us? Me in my scrubs, Hildy in her pseudo-vampire attire.

At first I thought my mother's eyes were going to jump out of their sockets so she could stare at poor Hildy a bit longer. But, true to the core, mother kept her eyeballs in place and said, “How many of those . . . jewelry things do you have, dearie?” She pointed to Hildy's ears.

Obviously Hildy didn't embarrass easily, although I was still convinced her self-esteem was low. Too obvious in trying to be different for her own good.

She smiled, more politely than humorously, and answered my mother. “Lost count after the second nipple ring.”

My mother grew pale. I gasped again, and my father came into the room, looking at all of us strangely. No wonder. We must have appeared an odd threesome. After introductions, my mother insisted on feeding us. It was way past six, so naturally, the kitchen had been cleaned for the night. But she pulled out Monday's left-over meatloaf and made two dishes of food.

Hildy ate as if she were truly starving and had no silver sourball in the way. She even took seconds, while I passed on the offer. The poor kid probably didn't earn much at the pharmacy. I'd gotten her talking during dinner to find out that she was an only child, had run away a while ago at seventeen, and rarely talked to her mother, whom she seemed to hold a grudge against. She briefly mentioned a grandfather, but I think I noticed a tear forming in her eye right when she stopped. Leo had hired her last year. No relatives in Hope Valley, and she had run here from Natick, Massachusetts, because the name sounded as if she might have a better life here.

I had to help out this kid.

Yeah, Pauline,
I thought,
along with doing your job and helping Jagger.
Hmm, suddenly I wondered where he'd gone off to.

Trying to shift the focus back to Hildy and my case, I offered to get her a ginger ale. When she agreed and I got up, I started with small talk about whether she liked working at the pharmacy.

“Pays some of my bills.” She cleaned the rest of the meatloaf off the plate.

In the background, I could see my mother fixing a “doggy bag,” the likes of which could feed a litter of wolfhounds, for Hildy, and I smiled to myself.

“That sure is a busy pharmacy. How many work there?”

At first she looked at me like why the hell did I care, then she shrugged. “Me, three pharmacists, one pharmacy tech, and six assistants. I don't help fill stuff, I only do the front counter and paperwork.”

No great surprise there, I thought, looking at her. Then I hoped Hildy wasn't involved in any “wrongdoings.” But, if her pay only covered some of her bills, damn.

I handed her the drink and sat back in my chair. “Oh, Hild, I forgot to tell you. When I was helping out with that Mr. Franklin, I picked up a bag that felt, well, empty.”

I paused and observed.

At first she looked—maybe—suspicious. It was hard to tell, since strands of ruby and black hair fell over her eyes. I never could understand how anyone could stand their hair in their face.

I leaned a bit closer. Hildy pushed the hair back a second. Her eyes looked more pissed than suspicious now.

“The Shit again.” She polished off the ginger ale.

Maybe Mom had used a bit too much salt this Monday in the meatloaf. “Excuse me?”

“Why? What did you do?”

“Er. Nothing. I meant, I don't understand what you said about The Shit.”

“Leo.” She got up and took her dishes to the sink and set them down gently.

Good for you, I thought. There had to be good in a teenager who cleaned up after herself. “Leo?”

She stood by the counter. “I wish I had a buck for every time The Shit filled a prescription but forgot to put the freaking medicine in the bottle.”

Why would a pharmacist keep making mistakes like that?

“Wow. How on earth does he manage that? I'd think it would be second nature to stick the pills in the little orange bottles.”

She shrugged again. “No telling what he has on his mind.”

“Do the other pharmacists make that same mistake?”

Now she glared at me. “You sure are curious about the pharmacy and stuff. Answer is no. Sometimes the female tech misspells a person's name, but no one but The Shit forgets to put pills in the bottles.”

I wanted to ask what happened when she returned them to Leo but gut instinct told me I had to stop. Hildy was fed and looking very tired. Plus she was looking suspicious—at me.

Or at least thinking I was some nutcase.

I dropped the questioning and decided to build on our “friendship” before interrogating her again.

After Mom gave the doggy bag to a grateful Hildy, we headed out and left with pleasant goodbyes. I'd told her I would see her at work when I had to get a prescription filled, and she told me she'd put mine on the top of the pile unless Leo noticed.

What I saw was a certain fear in Hildy's camouflaged eyes when I mentioned his name. Somehow she'd manage to give me a look that was nonreadable. But why?

Interesting. Had to follow up on that one.

With my stomach full and realizing I had not only worked a nursing shift but part of one at the pharmacy too, I was beat. I headed home, hurried into my condo and after a quick hug to Spanky, ran up to the shower.

Miles had left me a note on my bedroom door saying he was spending the night taking care of Goldie. I felt horrible that I hadn't checked up on Goldie all day, so while I yanked off my scrubs, I gave him a quick call.

“So, Suga, how'd it go?”

I filled him in on Hildy, leaving out Lance/Jagger. Goldie thought it was a good idea to pursue the empty prescription bottles and my friendship with Hildy. He said maybe I could then find out more about Sophie. Geez, I thought, as I hung up the phone and stepped out of my white silky panties, I'd forgotten about Sophie. Besides her waving to Leo, I had nothing.

I shoved the shower door open and stepped into the steamy water. Felt wonderful. I shut my eyes and let all my problems wash down the drain. But, when home alone, relaxation had never been the same since I was once nearly killed. I opened my eyes, half expecting to see good old Norman Bates from
Psycho
standing outside the glass shower door with a knife. Instead there was only Spanky, sleeping on the mauve carpet next to the sunken tub.

Yes, Miles had a professional decorator's taste.

I decided I needed a bit more hot water to relax, but this time I'd keep my eyes open.