A Dose of Murder by Lori Avocato Page A

I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed with him. After you’ve slept with someone, you don’t worry about potty breaks. He was about done anyway. “It was nice having lunch with you. I have to get back to work. See you.”
    As I grabbed my tray, he added, “Maybe we can do dinner again this weekend.”
    I sucked in a breath and thought of Jagger and Nick. “Yes, I’ll need
that. . . 
. Dinner, that is.” I scurried toward the door. The cafeteria was bustling with employees and patients now. When I pushed the elevator button, the doors opened immediately. I didn’t stop to look behind in case Vance had followed me. Instead, I plowed headfirst into the elevator—and smack-dab into—Jagger.
    I’ve never fainted in my life, but sure as hell tried to right then.
    Still coherent, I heard the doors close behind me and turned to see that no other soul had gotten in. Damn.
You are a professional, Pauline
, I scolded myself. So, I pushed myself away from his granite chest and stood tall. Well, as tall as my five six could get, next to what had to be his six three. Suddenly my urge to pee dried up. “Sorry.”
    He nodded.
    Good. Maybe we could get to the ground floor in silence. I yanked at my hair to help hide my face in case he might recognize me. Then I shut my eyes for a second and asked Saint Theresa to have the elevator get down in warp speed.
    The damn thing stopped!
    My eyes flew open. I knew that not enough time had elapsed to get to the ground floor. There stood Jagger—with his hand on the emergency stop button.
    Guess Saint Theresa was busy.
    Okay, I know all prayers are not answered and there’s always a good reason. If
this
guy was going to attack me in the elevator—that may be good reason enough.
    â€œWhat were you doing outside Macaluso’s house?”
    Not even a “Hi, I’m Jagger.” I leaned back and decided he was too mysterious to want to have sex with—in person, that is. Being practical, I decided I’d stick with fantasizing about him. “I . . . What were
you
doing there?” When in doubt repeat a question or at least confuse the hell out of your attacker. Truthfully, I didn’t consider Jagger an attacker. Not physically, at least. Not since Adele and Nick knew him. I’ll bet Goldie did too. Besides, as mysterious as he appeared, he didn’t seem like a wacko or a threat.
    â€œI asked first.”
    I was tempted to say, “So what?” but decided not to get into an argument. The guy looked as if he was packing. Not that I knew much about that, but I knew a bulge like that in his jacket wasn’t from a wallet. Maybe I was a natural at this job. The observation part anyway—thanks to my nursing skills. I tried to ignore my heart racing and my fingers tap dancing against my sides.
    He stood, waiting.
    I couldn’t say I was on a case. There had to be some rule that an investigator had to remain anonymous, so I said, “I went to school with Tina.” Besides, he must know Eddy, and if I said what I was doing, he could tell Eddy, and Eddy could tell Tina. Then I’d be out of my payment. I thought about that as I continued to examine his appearance.
    He had to work out to have pecs like that. Even with a jacket on, I could tell the guy was built. There was some magnetism kicking in. One exercise fanatic to another.
    Jagger looked at me. His left eyebrow rose. His teeth gritted, and I think he growled. “What the hell does that have to do with you sitting outside her house watching her shovel?”
    â€œGood question.” A bead of sweat trickled down my cheek. Suddenly I realized it wasn’t because of my infatuation with this guy. The elevator wasn’t moving. In my sexual fantasy about Jagger I’d momentarily forgotten my phobia—claustrophobia. My pulse sped even more. My gut tightened, sending much-needed blood to my vital organs to keep me