Dead On Arrival

Twenty-One

“You are one hell of a cook, Nightingale,” Dano said as he took another bite of potato pancake. “Damn. I’m impressed.”

My CSIC (Catholic-school-induced conscience) said I should tell him the truth, but for the moment, I reveled in the compliment and thought, hell, he might be lying about something much more serious than potato pancakes, so why not let him believe the cooking was mine?

I really didn’t want to like him. I really didn’t want to think of this as a date. I really didn’t want him to be guilty!

“Thanks,” I muttered and stuffed my mouth with a glob of sour cream. Yuck! I cut a piece of pancake and ate it to wash down the sour cream.

Dano looked at me, rather oddly, I might add. “What’s wrong?”

I waved my hand and took a sip of wine. “Oh, nothing. Just too much sour cream.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

He almost sounded angry. At least he did sound serious. Wow. Suddenly my mind snapped to attention, and I touched my finger to the pink locket-which I’d used once already on this case-hanging around my neck. A Jagger present. A very appropriate, albeit not romantic, present. Pepper spray. The locket contained pepper spray for me to use on my cases. Yes, Jagger did not trust me with a gun. Something about my foot and shots being fired-by me.

But one of these days…

While fingering the locket, I also ran through the self-defense moves Jagger had taught me. I only hoped I wouldn’t have to use them on Dano, since we’d done other moves that were much more pleasant… Geez. Just my luck.

If I didn’t keep reminding myself that Jagger wasn’t here-he actually didn’t come-then I might start to get a bit frightened. When I looked across the table with the handmade crocheted tablecloth, I found it hard to believe this guy could be a criminal, much less a murderer.

“How’s Pansy?” I asked.

Dano hesitated.

Why? What made him do that? I headed into investigative mode and decided no matter how hot he was or how much I liked this guy, I had to find out the truth very soon.

He looked at his food. “She’s had a setback.”

Damn! “What kind?”

“Fever. The report is that she started talking, but with her temp 103, seemed she wasn’t making any sense.” He took a sip of his wine and looked at me.

To whom? Maybe what Pansy was saying made perfect sense to my case. “Interesting. What was she saying?”

“Jennifer went to visit her and said she kept repeating Sky’s name over and over.”

Gulp. I wished I could share what I knew about Sky and Pansy with Dano. Maybe he even knew about it or knew something that would make sense. “Hmm. That doesn’t make sense to me. Does it to you?”

Dano sipped his wine and shrugged. “Guess it might.”

Bingo. “Might? How’s that?”

“Well, he worked for her. Sky’s only been at TLC a few years, but he used to take Pansy on helicopter rides. She was interested in flying them.”

That’s not all she was interested in.

“Hmm. Maybe she was interested in Sky too.” I forced a chuckle.

Dano didn’t join me, but said, “Naw. Pansy’s not interested in boys.”

“She’s gay?” I nearly choked on my wine. What about the sex chair and the fact that she’d mentioned Sky’s name to Lilla and I?

“Not gay. I think neither. She’s never really had a life outside of work.” He wiped a dollop of applesauce up with the remainder of the potato pancake and stuffed it into his mouth. Stella Sokol would be thrilled to see a guy enjoying her work of art like that.

“Neither? How can you be sure?”

He wiped a napkin briskly across his lips. “I’m not. Just guessing, and frankly, Nightingale, I couldn’t give a shit.”

Well, I certainly could!

Damn, but it was romantic cleaning up after our meal. Dano was cute and said whoever cooked shouldn’t clean, but in my gut I knew I should be helping. So, we did it together and now we sat on the couch in the living room with some soft piano music playing in the background. Romantic? Yeah. Did I wish I didn’t keep noticing that stupid cabinet in the kitchen while cleaning up? Damn it. Yeah.

I had to go check it out soon or my hormones might betray me. Hey, I was human and didn’t feel as if Dano was really a threat. However, I drew the line at making out with a possible criminal, so I had to get myself into gear so I could shift into another kind of gear.

Dano reached over to put his arm around me. With the other hand he touched my cheek very gently, running his finger down to my lips, which he encircled.

Oh, boy…

“Hey, I have to use the little girls’ room.” I removed his hand reluctantly and got up.

“No problem. I have a few phone calls to make anyway.” He got up and walked to the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, this thing doesn’t get very good reception in this old place.” He held out his cell phone. “Gotta go outside each time I want a clear, uninterrupted call. Take your time. Help yourself to more wine too, and feel free to refill mine.”

When he stepped out and closed the door, I looked up to heaven and winked. “If only you’d make each and every case this easy.” With that, I hurried into the kitchen to the cabinet-that could make or break my night.

Or, make that more than just this one night.

I kept looking at the front door to make sure that Dano hadn’t popped back in. Certainly he didn’t suspect me of anything. Of that much I was sure. Because if ER Dano had suspected me of being about to snoop, he wouldn’t have left me alone in the house. Nope. I never got any sense of suspicion on his part.

Since the coast looked clear, I hurried into the kitchen, propping the swinging door open a crack in order to hear the front door open. The whiteness of the place gave an eerie feeling, whereas when I first saw it, it looked as if it belonged in a featured article of House Beautiful.

Had to be my CSIC acting up, but since I had a job to do, I pretended I’d gone to public school as a kid and was Lutheran. That helped a bit as I walked to the cabinet where the papers had been stashed.

When I touched the cabinet’s door handle, I half expected the papers to be gone when I opened it.

But there they sat. All in a messed-up pile, but still there. Dano really hadn’t suspected me of anything and must not have known that I’d already seen them.

I looked toward the door and listened for a few seconds. Nothing except the grandfather clock’s gongs signaling the hour. It had been dark outside for a bit, so I realized that anyone walking by the bay windows could clearly see inside the kitchen. Realizing that gave me pause, but I turned back to the matter at hand, deciding I had to take chances in this business.

The papers on the top were all about overcharged payments made by TLC. Things like extra charges for oxygen or nurse transport when other documentation showed that these were not the case. Plus, I knew the ambulance charge was a flat rate and it was against the law to charge for some things individually.

I read through several more papers and found out that Sky’s flights were making much more money than they should. Hmm. Insurance companies were being charged for ground miles, which included every twist and turn through the streets, instead of air miles, which were direct shots through the air.

Yep. A big difference.

Sky’s signature was on several of these forms.

I leaned against the counter to digest this information. My potato pancakes started to rise in my throat. Was Sky somehow involved? Did he fall in love with Pansy and then decide he wanted to get ownership of TLC by using her-and she found out?

Jilted lovers again.

They made great suspects.

A few of the other papers had notes in the margins. Handwritten notes that I would bet my life were in Dano’s handwriting. I’d read some of his daily run sheets, and the writing looked the same, as far as I remembered. Only on these, he’d explained how medications could be double charged. When the paramedic cracked open the glass vial of a medication to give to a patient, the half-full vial was to be turned in to the ER nurse for replacement.

But Dano’s note said some of the medication could have been replaced with saline and when the nurse went to discard it, she’d never know. The patient would be charged for the medication, and the paramedic could have used the rest on him or herself or sold it in one of the crack houses over on Lincoln Street. Lord knew those poor souls would buy just about anything.

After going through everything that I read, I really wasn’t convinced of anything. As a matter of fact, I was more confused. Dano’s notes almost sounded as if he were-

“What the hell are you doing with those?” he said from behind. “Geez. Damn. Now what, Pauline?”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. My heart started to race. In the glass of the cabinet door, I could see the serious, almost threatening face of a very pissed ER Dano. And in his hand was a shiny metal object.

A knife. A knife!