by Lori Avocato
Sister Barbie Doll appeared in the doorway. This time her flashlight-wielding shadow was Nurse Lawson. Novitiate Lalli must be off today. Good. They approached the table and gave Joanna a handful of pills. Red ones. A green one. The Green Demon. She swallowed them as if starving. No need for the flashlight with her.
“Good morning, Pauline,” Sister Barbie said.
I smiled. “Hi.”
She went past me and gave Callie Jo her medication. Then the nun and nurse made their way down the table. I leaned next to Mason. “If you can, hide the pill under your tongue, but make a gulping sound so they think you swallowed it.”
He looked at me as if I were brilliant.
“We need clear heads around here.” I looked over to see Margaret swallowing. Damn. Still, I couldn’t blame her. I actually think she took the medication to escape this place even if only while she slept. Margaret would be out of commission for hours. I wished I’d gotten to talk to her about Spike first.
“Good morning, Mason,” Sister Barbie said. She smiled at him.
I thought that was a good sign. Maybe the nun would be less likely to suspect he wouldn’t take the medication. After all, she and Nurse Lawson thought he was a real patient.
A page came over the intercom. “Sister Barbara Immaculatta to the nurse’s station STAT.”
STAT. Wonderful. Thank goodness I knew the familiar medical term for “immediately.”
“Here, Pauline,” she shoved the pill at me, and she and Nurse Lawson hurried out.
It must have been about Mary Louise.
I stuck the pill in the pocket of my robe and turned toward Mason. “Did you—”
He was wiping the napkin across his lips and the pill landed in the crease.
“Perfect,” I said and winked at him.
We ate in silence so that no one near us would hear anything that we said. I knew I could no longer trust anyone around here. It pained me to think that way about Sister Liz, but I had to be very careful.
Mason and I put our trays on the conveyor belt and waited to hear Sister Janet say that all the sharps were accounted for.
We stood by the wall and watched the staff in the kitchen counting. Margaret sat very still. I motioned for Mason to follow and we walked over to her and sat for a few minutes.
“Hey, Margaret.”
She gave a faint smile and nod.
“We are getting closer. Hang in there. You go rest and think of Kyle—”
“There’s a knife missing,” Sister Janet called out.
Damn it!
Now what? This was the first time we couldn’t leave, and I had so much to do. Hopefully Jagger was out there finding something out.
“Everyone line up by the door,” Sister Janet called.
Then, I looked up in horror as the staff proceeded to frisk all the patients. I ran my hand to my robe and felt my pill in the pocket. Shoot! I sure didn’t want to take it, and if I tried to throw it out before they got to me, some patient might find it and be harmed if they ate it.
My head started to pound. This place was getting worse and worse. I should have shoved the pill in a napkin and threw it away like Mason. “You go in front of me,” I said to him.
He gave me an odd look but appeared to trust me enough not to say anything. I stood there trying to think, when suddenly, Barbie—the plastic doll, that is—smacked me in the head!
“Ouch!”
Everyone turned around again.
“Sorry. She bumped into me. Joanna that is,” I lied in my defense.
Joanna gave me a wicked smile, then shook the doll at me. I pretended to be scared so she’d leave me alone while I thought.
“Next,” Nurse Lindeman said.
Mason moved up, was checked and released to go.
I only had Joanna the nutty Doll Lady between cold wet sheets and me. For a few seconds I thought of pretending that I was sick, but that would ruin the rest of my day and maybe I wouldn’t get to investigate. They might send me to my bed and put me on constant watch. I moved forward as if going to the gallows.
Joanna fussed when Nurse Lindeman took her doll. Just as she did, a clatter sounded. We all looked down to see the knife, which had fallen out of Barbie’s nurse’s whites.
“All clear,” Nurse Lindeman shouted.
I sighed so loudly, Joanna swung around. “You touch my baby and I’ll cut you!”
Yikes!
They whisked Joanna of f—maybe for a few ECT jolts of sanity.
As if I didn’t have enough on my plate to worry about, now I had to hope that Doll Lady Joanna didn’t whack me one with stolen cutlery.
Thank goodness the staff had taken her away. I assumed she’d be heavily medicated or get shock treatment. I was glad that Jagger had changed the routine order on my chart for having shock treatment, too. One less thing to worry about.
I motioned for Mason to follow me, and soon we were seated near the window of the dayroom without the TV. Two of the men in red pajamas were sleeping on the couch. The new lady, Kathy, was also sleeping in the chair by the entrance. Good. No one to snoop. No interruptions.
I turned to Mason. “I wish Margaret could be here.”
He nodded. “But it seems as if we are onto something, with what she and I have already talked about.”
I nodded.
Mason shifted, moving himself closer.
Our hips touched—and I noticed. This was not a good sign. After all, there was Jagger and his kiss. I thought for a moment and told myself I was being crazy. Jagger’s kiss certainly meant more to me than it did to him. I was out of my league with him. Actually, all women were out of their league with Jagger.
But sometimes it felt good to end up in left field, even if only for a few seconds.
“Pauline, I’m still not clear as to why you are here,” Mason said, moving just a wee bit closer.
I didn’t budge, but for some stupid reason, did look up to see if Dr. Dick was in sight. The only person walking in the hallway was one of the red pajama men. That was good, I thought. He was getting some exercise. I couldn’t tell Mason about my job, so I took a page out of Jagger’s book. “I work for someone. We need to find out more about this fraud ring. That’s all I can say.” I gave him a gigantic smile as if that would prevent him from asking any more questions.
He smiled back and leaned near. With one finger, he brushed the hair away from my eye. “I could not resist. Sorry.”
Making my heart do a jig was nothing to be sorry for. “I’m … no problem.” I took a deep breath to clear my head and forget, for a few minutes, that I was a woman and he was a man … all man. “Mason, do you … Can you think of anything else that might help us? We seem to have lots on Spike, but that’s it. Do you remember if he spoke to anyone, maybe on his cell phone while he was driving?”
Mason leaned back, yawned and had his arm around me in a heartbeat. Smooth. Very smooth and not even sophomoric like two kids in a movie theater. Maybe his French accent helped to make any move that he made seem charming.
“My mind is so cloudy since being here.”
I chuckled. “I hear you. It’s as if the air in this place is filled with some mind-altering drugs. We’re all a bit foggy. But think. Start with when Spike picked you up at the airport. Was he friendly?” I’d have a hard time believing he was, but then again, he seems to have some personal grudge against me.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, he was very friendly. Not at all as he appears around here. We talked of golf and how the course would already be open yet the air cool. I looked forward to playing … Wait.”
I turned so fast, our shoulders banged together. Mason smiled and touched my face. This time, just touched it. No moving any hair. What the heck were we talking about again?
“What?” I asked after a moment of clarity returned. “What do you mean, ‘wait’? Did you think of something?”
“When we drove across this bridge over a river—”
“The Connecticut River,” I said.
“Yes, I read a sign that said it was that river. Well, I was trying to take in the scenery, but I do remember Spike answering his cell phone.”
“And?” This could be a break for us. For the case.
“Mind you, Pauline, I did not pay too much attention to his private conversation.”
I curled my lip. “I know. You thought he was a chauffer taking you to a resort. But did he at least sound friendly? Angry? Sad? What?”
Mason looked out the window for a few seconds. I felt him grow tense as he said, “Yes, now I remember.”
“Here you are, Pauline,” a voice said.
I swung around to see Jagger. “Oh, hey, Ja … Dr. Dick. We were just—” If I said too much in front of Mason, I could blow our teamwork. So I just laughed and said, “Did you need me for my session now?”
Mason’s hold tightened.
I didn’t know whether to push his arm off my shoulder and jump up like a kid caught in a naughty act, or just sit still and let Jagger “observe” us.
I sat still.
“I … we do need to talk right now, Pauline. I have other patients to see today.”
“You do?” I coughed. “Oh, of course you do.” I turned to Mason. “We’ll finish this later. I’m very curious to find out what you were going to say.”
He eased free, stood, took my arm and lifted me from the seat. Then, he touched my face and said, “I enjoyed talking to you. Spending this time with you.”
My legs wobbled.
I vowed that when I got done with this case that I’d go out with lots of guys. I had to get back in the dating scene. For a fleeting second I even thought I’d take a date that my mother fixed me up with. Then, I told myself I was in a mental hospital, and any thoughts that I had in this place could not be taken to heart.
“I’ll see you before lunch. Let’s meet out here. I’ll try to get Margaret to come too.”
“Agreed.” He smiled and nodded. “Doctor.” He smiled at Jagger too.
Jagger growled, a low, soft sound. I was probably the only one who could hear it.
I laughed to myself.
Once we were down the hallway and into the exam room, Jagger let my arm go.
I chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“You aren’t going to finish this case by sitting and chatting with that guy all day, Pauline.”
I stifled the next chuckle. Wasn’t easy, but I managed so I wouldn’t rile up Jagger too much. This was actually fun. “Jag, we were making headway.” I told him what Mason and I were talking about, finishing with, “And then you interrupted. Right when he was going to tell me something about the phone call.”
Jagger didn’t of fer any apology. No great surprise. But what he did do was take out his toothpick, break it in half and throw it away—never touching it to his lips.
The poor guy.
“I’m taking you out of here now.”
I felt my eyes widen and my temper ignite. “What? No you are not! You’re not taking me out just because of Mason putting the moves on me.”
He merely looked at me. “Let’s go.” He took me by the arm.
“But … I … look, Jag—”
“Jagger.” He eased me to the door. I knew I couldn’t make a scene, or our cover could get blown. “Don’t call me Jag.”
I stopped for a second and could only stare. So that’s the way it was. If he’d allowed me to call him that when he was in power, that was fine. But when I got him riled up, it wasn’t.
Talk about a control freak.
We walked to the nurses’ station, where Jagger explained that I needed some detailed therapy so we’d be off the unit for a while. The nurse on duty was a lay nurse I didn’t recognize and she didn’t seem to care much anyway. She merely nodded and I couldn’t help wonder if Jagger’s looks had anything to do with her “hypnotic” state or if she was just a burned-out employee.
Jagger let go and I followed him through the locked doors into the tunnel. Before I knew it, he was opening the door to the outside, easing me through and walking us toward his SUV.
“What the hell?” I yelled.
This time he opened my door. “Get in.”
“Not again! I … what are you doing?”
“Working our case, Pauline.”
We drove out of the grounds of the Cortona Institute of Life. Not sure when I’d be back or even if I’d be back, I looked out the window.
Margaret stood in the bay windows of Ward 200. My heart sank.
“I have to go back. You can’t take me out of here for good.”
Jagger didn’t even look my way. “If you weren’t so preoccupied with Mr. New Orleans, you would know that we were only going out for a short time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
He kept his eyes on the road and said, “You didn’t give me a chance.”
I turned to him to argue, but when I studied his profile, his concentration on the road, I decided to shut my mouth.
I think Jagger just lied to me because he was more preoccupied with my being with Mr. New Orleans than even I was.
We rode in silence until we reached the interstate. When he got on the ramp of 91 South, I asked, “What’s going on?”
“We’re paying a little visit to Ruby.”
“Ruby? Why? She’s out of the picture.”
He took his eyes off the road and looked at me quickly. “Is she?”
Got me there. Jagger must have found out something more about the rich drug addict.
He took the exit for my condo. We parked and hurried inside, and I went to change. No one was home, and I wished I could have seen them, so I settled for a few Spanky hugs.
Soon Jagger and I were back in the car with my Burberry outfit in a bag. Jagger drove us to the side of town that bordered West Hartford—the ritzy side of town.
Then he turned into the driveway of what looked like a giant mansion. Its driveway was longer than the street that I lived on. Surely we were not going to see Ruby at her house.
When he pulled onto the circular area in front, I noticed a very discreet sign on the door: ST. CLAIR HEALTH SPA.
I looked at him. “What? Are we going for a mud wrap or something?”
Jagger was out of the SUV and waiting while I got out too.
“Something,” he said, leading me inside the gigantic mahogany doors, which were bigger than my parents’ garage doors.
At the entrance, the foyer bigger than my parents’ house, a woman sat at a reception desk of fine, carved wood. She looked back and forth between us and then settled on Jagger.
What a surprise.
“We only see clients with appointments.”
“Dr. Plummer,” he said.
She flew up from her seat. This broad, in her Chanel suit of black and white, had nothing on Adele in her Frederick’s of Hollywood. And Adele was much more courteous and pleasant than this society woman.
Soon we were led to changing rooms (Separate ones. Damn!) and were told to meet out near the pool. We’d be assigned our personal trainer, masseuse and a third person who would do who knows what else to our bodies.
I’d been so swept up in the hoopla of this place that I’d forgotten to ask Jagger about Ruby. Surely she didn’t work here. Naw. Ruby didn’t work anyplace. She’d never mentioned a job, and with her parents footing her bills, I figured she didn’t need a job.
After taking off my clothes, I slipped into the silken robe that was handed to me by a woman dressed in a black uniform. She looked like the upstairs maid you see in old movies. Sexy and pretty.
Cautiously stepping out of my dressing room, which had more supplies sitting on the counter than Goldie and I had put together, I looked around.
“Right this way, Mrs. Plummer. Dr. Plummer is waiting for you,” the upstairs maid said.
I followed her along until it dawned on me. “Mrs. Plummer?” Not that again. This wouldn’t be the first time I’d masqueraded as Jagger’s w
ife.
Only it was the first time I’d done it naked in a silken robe.
Twenty-six
I hoped the spa had resuscitation equipment was my first thought when I saw my “husband” waiting by the entrance to the pool. He looked so delicious in a black silk robe, which I guessed was killing him to wear, that I started to have SOB (in laymen’s terms, shortness of breath).
“Hi,” I said, walking up to him.
The upstairs maid kinda drooled at Jagger and then mumbled something about waiting for our masseuse. We could get a health drink or yogurt while we waited, she’d said.
“No thank—” I started to say.
Jagger grabbed my arm. “We’d be delighted to. Thank you.”
I wrinkled my forehead at him and whispered, “I’m sure they don’t have black coffee.”
In silence we followed the upstairs maid into a gigantic room decorated like something out of the Gilded Age. I never saw so much gold in any of the Catholic churches I’d been in. When we got close to a long bar, which was marble with carved wood for legs, I stopped.
Ruby sat on a lounge chair sipping a drink from a goblet bigger than Miles’s largest floral vase.
I looked at Jagger and motioned with my head in her direction.
He looked back at me as if to say, “Do you think we came here for the carrot juice?”
The waitress, dressed in all white, asked, “What may I get you, Dr. and Mrs. Plummer?”
I looked behind me. Oh, right. I was Mrs. Plummer. I wondered how Jagger was going to explain all of this to Ruby.
I didn’t have to wonder for long.
The girl set my coconut banana smoothie with extra Vitamin D and Jagger’s plain yogurt (no imagination) on the table near Ruby. We sat on the lounge chairs opposite her.
At first, she didn’t pay us any attention. Ruby kept reading her Cosmo and drinking something that smelled like onions and strawberries.
Jagger took a spoonful of his yogurt and winced. I could barely keep a straight face. I sucked on my drink and thought it very sweet and pleasant. This beat the heck out of the Cortona Institute of Life’s skim milk in the plastic cups.
Jagger set his yogurt down. “Ruby, we need to talk.”
She took her time in finishing what she was reading, took another sip and then looked up. “Shit. What the hell are you two doing here?”
