Obviously, grief-stricken Pansy was also the legal eagle in the family, as she insisted I go home for as long as needed-paid, I might add. I figured she’d made the offer in order to avoid any lawsuit I might conjure up. Hmm. I could pay off a lot of bills…
But that wasn’t me.
I went to the office of Pansy’s receptionist and stopped at the door and waited. A few seconds later, a French-Canadian accent sounded over the intercom. “Mrs. Dawson, please report to the main reception area.”
Thank you, dear Lilla.
Mrs. Dawson hurried out, and I only wasted a few seconds wondering what lie Lilla was going to give for paging the woman. Lilla really was a peach.
Looking around, I noticed the door to Pansy’s office was still open even though she’d told Lilla that she had to go meet with the undertaker right after she’d told me to go home. I shuddered, said a prayer for Payne’s soul-which by the sound of things might need a bit more than a “few” prayers. I walked nonchalantly into Pansy’s office…
And nearly passed out from fear!
In the center of the room was a life-size cardboard figure of Payne Sterling.
I grabbed the desk to steady myself since I could almost picture the knife in…
After a few mental shakes, I told myself this was probably for the memorial service-although weirder than anything I’d seen so far. There was an odd expression on Payne’s face-almost a grimace-and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had the last laugh.
But he couldn’t have known he was going to die when this picture was taken.
Okay, Sokol, compose yourself, I ordered. Gawking at an eerie cardboard Payne was not getting me anywhere. I tried to ignore it, easing to the side to get around it. No way in hell was I going to touch the damn thing.
I figured Pansy would be gone for a bit, if not the rest of the day, so I needn’t hurry. Then again, who knew how long Lilla could keep Mrs. Dawson busy?
After taking my gloves from the pocket of my scrubs and pulling them on, I walked to the door and eased it closed, hoping that would buy me time if I heard someone coming. I hurried to the other door and opened it. Good. Payne’s office door was unlocked. A perfect escape route.
I said a quick prayer that I wouldn’t need it, went to Pansy’s desk and started snooping.
After what seemed like hours, I flopped down in her black chair that went with the monochromatic décor and sighed. Nothing. She had nothing left for any evidence-consequently, I had nothing on her. Could twins like Payne and Pansy not be in cahoots? Was it really possible that Payne had been scamming the insurance companies and she never knew about it?
I didn’t buy that.
There had to be something fishy going on here…wait! Pansy must have cleaned out her office of any evidence. That’s why she was here instead of mourning at home.
My gut was talking to me again, and once again, I agreed.
“I’ll get it for you, Miss Sterling.”
Mrs. Dawson!
And, yikes, she was talking to Pansy. I hoped it was on the phone. Before I could find out, the doorknob started to turn…and I got myself through the door to Payne’s office in a flash.
But I kept the door open a crack and watched as the dear woman walked in, hefted up Payne’s picture into her arms, sniffled, shook her head-almost in disgust-and carried him out the door.
Maybe his presence was requested at the funeral home now.
Phew. I leaned against the wall, took in a deep breath and blew it out while looking at the room. Eerie wasn’t quite strong enough of a word. The kaleidoscope-colored room gave me the feeling someone was watching me. I shook my head and ignored the nonsense as I silently walked toward the door.
When I went to grab the handle, a hand covered mine…
My eyelids fluttered. I sucked in some air and tried to remember where I was. Why was I lying on the floor? I looked up to see the colorful room and remembered I was in the late Payne Sterling’s office. “Right,” I muttered. “What the hell made me pass out?”
I heard a soft chuckle and swung my head around to see Sky near the doorway. “I went to get a cold compress. So sorry I scared you, Pauline.” He knelt down and gently set it on my forehead.
As if I’d feel better from a wet cloth. Okay, it was soothing. “What happened?” I held the cloth with one hand and pushed myself to a sitting position with the other. A girl did not want to be lying prone beneath a hunk like Sky Palmer.
“You passed out.”
I raised one eyebrow. “No kidding.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I’m so sorry that I scared you, Pauline. I-” He chuckled again. “This is going to sound so stupid. I came in here to get some log forms for a flight I did a few days ago, and you…you scared the shit out of me!”
I scared this guy?
Then again, maybe that idea wasn’t so far-fetched. I was in the office of a dead man-and obviously Sky hadn’t been expecting to find anyone in here.
“I knew I should have asked Mrs. Dawson to find the logs for me.” He took the cloth from my head. “I’ll go make this colder.”
“No,” I said, even though it would have felt wonderful, but I had to get out of there. Hopefully Sky was so shocked seeing me that he’d forget to ask what I was doing there.
“So, Pauline, what the hell were you doing here?”
So much for my shocked pilot theory.
“Oh, that.” I stood up and wiped at the back of my head. “I hit the back of my head during an ambulance run today. Fell. Well, actually kicked down by a virgin patient.” I rubbed my head a few times. “So Pansy, the generous darling-”
Sky’s eyes darkened.
Interesting.
“Well, she was so sweet to let me go home for the rest of the day.” I rattled on the entire story of Virgin Virginia until poor Sky’s gorgeous, sexy eyes were glazed over.
Not one word that I said explained his original question of what I was doing here, but I’d finagled my way out of answering that with all the bullshit rambling.
Geez. This investigator stuff was getting easier and easier, and now I had to wonder if Sky was involved-or how.
After Sky fell for my long-winded explanation of nothing, we said goodbye and I headed out the back door while he went toward the reception desk. I thought for sure his seeing gorgeous Lilla would confuse him more and make him forget me instantly.
Once seated in my car, I looked at my watch and groaned. Nearly six. The hour of doom.
Dinner at 171 David Drive. Michael and Stella Sokol’s house.
Well, I told myself, worse things could happen to me. Sky Palmer could have ratted me out today. Instead I proudly drove to my folks’ house and pulled in the driveway with a smile on my face-until I noticed the black Suburban parked out front.
Jagger!
Mother had done it again. She had his cell number, which was more of a secret than a sealed envelope holding an Oscar winner’s name. But she managed to get it, call him more than I cared to have her do (which would have been zero), and now he was going to be eating Mom’s tender beef dinner tonight-I already knew the menu because it was Tuesday and my mother made the same meal on the same day of the week every week.
Oh well, I felt like crap after the time I’d just had, and Mom’s home-cooked comfort food would be soothing if nothing else. Today also, I ashamedly admitted, was going to be a spritz-of-pine-scented-Renuzit kinda day. My mother hoarded the stuff for years and sprayed every inch of our house, so much that its Christmassy pine scent became very nostalgic to me. It said home. Safety. Love. And, of course, food. Very comforting. I needed comfort now and a spray of it had fewer calories than the beef dinner.
I’d hurry into the bathroom, inhale a whiff or two and be ready to enjoy-make that tolerate-the meal with Jagger sitting across from me. Plan A was a go.