The Stiff and the Dead (19 page)

He looked around and leaned close before the waitress came back. “Don't forget my Jagger warning.”

“I know, Gold. It's not easy though.”

He shook his head. “Tell me about it, Suga. If it weren't for Miles, I'd be hunting and pecking around too.”

Hunting and pecking? I barely remembered that I had a date with Nick tonight. “Gold, what do you think of Nick?”

“Not my type, but a doll for you. He's not macho or ragged, like Jagger. He's more suave, movie-star handsome. Yeah, suave handsome. That's Nick. But, Suga, Nick'll treat you right. I've already told you that.”

“I know. How do I get my emotions to know?”

Goldie laughed as the waitress brought our food, set it down and pulled the check off her order book. She put it on the table, turned and left.

We made some small talk over our sandwiches. Goldie really sounded as if he felt much better, and that made me happy. Maybe today was going to be better than yesterday.

Of course, if there were no homicides the rest of the day, it would be even better.

“So, Suga,” Goldie said, dabbing a paper napkin to his bright pink lips. “We need to get you going on your case. Fabio will shit a brick if you don't give him something to placate him soon. He call you yet?”

“I've been avoiding him.” I took a bite of my sandwich and sip of my decaf. “I really have to get on Sophie's good side. If she was giving Leo insurance numbers, I need to find the proof before the case is over and done with.”

“Back to Peggy Doubtme.”

I groaned, knowing he was right.

Goldie laughed, very ladylike. “What you planning next, Suga?”

“I figure if Sophie was making money with Leo on the Viagra, she may just keep up that end of the business. Maybe she even was selling on the side, too. I hear one pill sells for twenty-five to thirty bucks on the black market. Imagine?”

“Suga, I
can
imagine. That stuff's like gold to some of us.”

I blushed, knowing my color made me look like a Raggedy Ann doll. “Gold, you don't mean—”

He waved his hand. “Not anymore. Not needed with my Miles. Speaking of Miles, Suga . . .” He touched my hand.

“Oh . . . my . . . God, Goldie. What is the matter?”

He squeezed my hand. “Nothing is wrong, Suga. It's just, well, I promised Miles I'd wait to tell you together, but . . . I just can't wait!”

My hand turned numb from the pressure. “What is it? You've got me all excited!”

“Miles and I are moving in together. He asked me to live at your place.”

Which meant I was now homeless—with no solved case to get paid for—and two dead bodies.

“Suga,” Goldie said with concern in his eyes. “Now don't you go fretting. You don't have to move—”

“Gold, I do. You and Miles deserve your privacy. To be together. Alone.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I'm thrilled for both of you. And don't you worry about me.”

I'll worry enough for the both of us.

And worry I would. I really couldn't afford a place of my own, didn't have any other friends I'd care to share a condo with, and knew in my logical mind that the only place I really could go to live was . . .

“I'm so thrilled!” my mother yelled when I went over there after work—and asked for my old room back.

This was the worst day of my life.

Daddy leaned over, setting the morning newspaper to the side, even though it was nearly five.
“Pączki,
that is nice. It is nice that you'll be back here with us.”

Uncle Walt looked over from his seat near the television. He winked.

I knew he thought we'd be working on the case of Mr. W's death together.

This truly was the worst day of my life.

“I have to go.”

“Dinner is almost ready. It's nearly six.” Mother jumped up, ready to blockade the door.

I decided I wouldn't put myself through eating any meals here—until the fateful day when I moved back in. “Can't stay, Mom.”

“Why not?”

I edged past her, bumping into the coffee table, sending a statue of the Blessed Mother careening to the floor. Thank goodness deep shag provided such a nice cushion.

“Look out, Pauline!” Mom tried to catch the statue but without avail. “You could have broken it.”

“Not intentionally. I really have to go.”

“Why the hurry?”

My father had gone back to reading his paper. Uncle Walt's eyes had shut. And Mom stepped closer.

Shoot. She had some kind of mental telepathy with us kids. She knew when we were lying or at least trying not to tell her something. It was no use. I blurted out, “I have a date to get ready for.” I spun around, hurried to the other side of the table, and tried to make a dash for the door.

She grabbed me as if her arm was rubber, like Stretch Armstrong's. “A date? A date? And you didn't tell us? Walt, Michael, did you hear that? She has a date!”

Uncle Walt let out a long snore.

Daddy looked up from his paper and nodded. “That's nice.”

I sighed. “It's not like it's some earth-shattering news, Ma.” She hated when I called her “Ma.”

“That's
Mother,
Pauline. And yes it is, when
you
have a date.”

“Thanks.”

She eased up on her grip. “I didn't mean it that way. Just that, well, it's nice to know you are dating some nice man.” She had some of the same skills as Jagger with her eyes. They locked onto yours and wouldn't let go. You really couldn't even turn your head. And, you
had
to tell the truth. “It is a nice young
man.
Isn't it?”

I know my mother had her moments of thinking I might be gay, and, believe me, I was tempted to lead her on a few times for the hell of it, but decided, how pathetic was that?

With my dating history, it really wasn't my mother's fault that she thought that. “Yes, Mom. He's a nice
man.
A good-looking man. Even a dynamite investigator.”

“Jagger?”

Speechless, I shook my head, waved to everyone in the room whether they were looking or not, and yanked myself away from my mother's staring.

Okay, she'd never met Nick, and she had met Jagger. That's why she assumed I was dating him. They'd met a few months ago and consequently he came for Christmas Eve, and she egged him on to kiss me under the mistletoe.

Don't get me started on that night.

But damn if it wasn't hard to hear her talk about Jagger.

All the way home, I could hear my mother asking if I was dating Jagger. And, all the way home I kept telling myself how great Nick was. How handsome. How debonair. How smart. How . . . he wasn't Jagger.

When I pulled into my parking lot, I sat in my car a few minutes, looking at the front door of our condo. I wouldn't be living here much longer, I thought. My heart sank.

Once I'd pulled myself out of the car and gone inside, I grabbed Spanky and sat with him for a good ten minutes, knowing that I wouldn't have as much time to get ready. But depression had set in.

Who would Spanky live with?

Damn. This was like getting a divorce. Both Miles and I loved him equally. I looked into his gigantic dark eyes, “Shit. What are we going to do?”

“Don't leave.”

Again I thought the dog had talked to me. Then I sat back and told myself that maybe I really wouldn't have to move to 171 David Drive, home of the Sokol family. Maybe I could stay here and keep out of Miles and Goldie's way.

I kissed Spanky on the head and hurried to go shower. At least a night out with Nick might take my mind off my problems. Possible murder. Possible moving. Possible never finishing my damn case.

Finally ready in record time, I ran to answer the bell on the third ring.

Not only was Nick impeccably dressed in a camel-hair jacket, black trousers and camel-colored suede overcoat, but he also was punctual. Thank goodness I'd showered, done my makeup with old tips from Goldie and let my hair fly around again after taking it down from work. I'd picked out a slinky outfit Goldie had made me buy on a shopping trip to Lord and Taylor.

I wore a hunter green miniskirt and matching blouse, which I felt great in. I went with sexy on my feet instead of “comfortable” as was my usual choice and wore my black heels with the sling backs that complemented my Maciejko legs. If I fell, I'd die of embarrassment, but the way Nick looked at me right now would make it all worth it.

Shimmer. Shimmer. Wow.

He took my hand and kissed it. “You look great. Hope you're hungry.”

Hungry? I couldn't remember eating in the past century. My mind clouded with a male's attention on me, I merely smiled and said, “Thanks. I could eat a little.”

“Good. We've got reservations at Madelyn's.”

The infamous restaurant near the river that everyone went to. I'd gone there with Doc Taylor and even once with Jagger. After that, I'd actually never wanted to go there again, but it was the best place in town, so I'd had to change my standards. This could be an interesting night.

“That's my favorite place.” Okay, the little white lie was for Nick's benefit so as not to disappoint him, since it was his choice. This day had to have a better ending than the way things had been going up to now.

On the way there, I filled him in on my case, and he told me he was working on a suspected fraudulent neurosurgeon over in the West Hartford area. When the valet took Nick's black Porsche, he held his hand on my lower back and guided me into the restaurant.

The hostess gave Nick a huge smile. “Hi, Nicky, the usual table?”

Me, she ignored.

“Thanks, Kristi.”

Nick gave her a nice smile, but never let go of me. So there, Kristi! We wove through crowded tables toward the back of the restaurant, which faced the water. Tiny white lights sparkled year round outside the window, giving the place a festive atmosphere. With a dusting of snow on the back patio, it really looked magical.

Tonight would make up for today.

“Ah, Bellisima.”

I swung around to come face to face with Joey the Wooer. He sat at a table near the window with Helen, Uncle Stash and a woman from the senior citizens center. I think the one who had taken her teeth out that day. The usual crowd except for my Uncle Walt. Obviously only one at a time could date Helen, and poor Sophie was not there either.

“Oh, hi. Joey. Uncle Stash.” I nodded toward Helen, who kind of growled at me and drooled over Nick.

I'd never liked that woman, from the first time I'd rammed into her Thunderbird.

And I only hoped she wasn't getting her claws into my Uncle Stash. Poor Uncle Walt.

After brief introductions, Nick said, “Well, we'll let you folks enjoy your dinner.” He took me by the shoulders, but Joey jumped up before we could leave.

“Why-a not join us?”

I think Nick growled now, but he was very polite to the elderly man. After several minutes of well-mannered arguing on both sides, I found myself sitting between Nick—and Joey.

I had to smile inside. Felt kind of nice to have two guys vying for my attention.

Then I reminded myself that one was as old as my uncles. That kind of took the wind out of my sails until I looked at Nick—and shimmered.

Damn. He was looking better and better each time. Maybe the fact that he seemed to like me, and had said as much, made him more appealing.

I decided I wouldn't even think of Jagger the rest of the night.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!”

I swung around to see Miles and Goldie exclaiming together. Gotta love those two. After making sure everyone knew each other they, too, joined us.

So much for my date with Nick.

Wrapping a diamond-studded-bracelet-covered arm around me, Goldie bent toward me before he sat. The diamonds went perfectly with the winter white fitted suit with white mink collar that he wore. Only Goldie could pull off the fabulous outfit without looking pretentious or overdressed.

Every guy in the place turned to stare.

Of course, being over six feet, Goldie kinda commanded everyone's attention. And he definitely had mine when he whispered in my ear, “You go, girl. Forget Jagger.”

So much for not thinking about Jagger the rest of the night.

Goldie's reminder had me look at Nick, smile and pray that he hadn't heard the comment. I quickly turned to Joey, hoping his hearing wasn't that great. He merely stared at me. Oh, boy. Maybe he had heard.

Back to Nick. I put my hand over his and said, “I'm famished,” knowing I probably wouldn't be able to eat a bite.

Joey shoved the breadbasket toward me. “Bellisima, you shouldn't have to starve when out on a date.”

The muscles of Nick's hand tightened under my hold. Yikes. I felt certain he'd love to pop old Joey over the gray head. But Nick was a true gentleman.

“You're right, Joe. Such a beautiful date as mine shouldn't have to wait to eat.” With that he waved the waiter over and looked at me. “Allow me?”

I nodded, knowing I'd eat just about anything right now with my stomach shrinking by the minute. Before I was near anorexic; now I could eat an entire tuna.

“Let's start with two shrimp cocktails, a bottle of your best chardonnay, and—” He now took my hand into his and kissed it.

Joey nearly spit his wine out.

I smiled inside at the darling older man.

Nick finished with, “Chateaubriand for two. How's that sound, Pauline?”

“Wonderful,” came out of my mouth on a very soft, ladylike breath.

Who knew I could do soft and ladylike?

When the waiter brought our shrimp and Goldie and Miles had ordered, we all settled in chatting and eating. The first crew was served their dinners, but being the seniors, they all ate in slow motion.

Joey kept leaning toward me and talking—make that interrupting—each time Nick started a conversation. It struck me as funny, but obviously Nick's patience was being challenged. The woman who had taken out her teeth and most likely came here with Joey, merely kept on eating.