A Dose of Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

meeting Goldie get to you. Adele is right here. Just remember that Goldie is . . . well, Goldie.”
    Instead of it getting creepier that she spoke of herself in third person, I convinced myself that it was motherly. I told myself not to be afraid with Adele standing next to me.
    After a quick knock with her still-gloved hand—Adele’s other hand gripped my own—a muffled sound came from inside.
    â€œIs someone in there with Goldie? Because if they are, we could come back,” I said.
    Adele tightened her hold on my hand. “
Chéri
, that is Goldie,” she whispered to me.
    â€œBut it sounds like—” A man? A woman? One with a baritone voice? No, what the hell did it sound like?
    The door swung open.
    I pulled back behind Adele. She stepped to the side and let me face Goldie . . . alone.
    A hand with long fingers that piano players would kill for reached out to me. I cringed, then reluctantly reached out.
    â€œHey, suga, you must be the new mole.”
    Adele stepped back toward me. “
Chéri
, this is Goldie Perlman. Ex-Army intelligence.”
    I glared at what had to be six feet of well-endowed woman in front of me. Goldie had on silver skintight slacks, looked like the stretch kind. Her feet, maybe size eleven, well, maybe twelve, sported gold spike heels with pearl-covered bows on them. Ack. My feet hurt looking at them. Not good for running, I’d imagine. Then again, with her size, she probably didn’t have to run from anyone.
    I looked past the pants to her shirt. A tiger’s face nearly jumped out at me until I realized it was three-dimensional artwork, or at least looked like it. So real, yet sparkly too. Lots of gold and bronze colors. Actually very pretty, but not my taste. The two golden tiger’s eyes glared at me.
    I moved to the side, out of tiger view.
    She smiled, revealing a set of damn fine white teeth with a slight overbite. But they sparkled like the shirt and pants. Her makeup, muted earthy tones, was done to perfection, as far as I could tell. Of course I’m no expert, since all I ever use is Maybelline pink blush and matching lipstick. Miles always nagged at me to buy more expensive stuff or at least to let his friend Carl, who worked at Macy’s department store, do a makeover.
    Goldie didn’t need a makeover.
    She was beautiful. I tucked the idea of asking her for help with my makeup into the back of my mind. I shook her hand and winced at the grip. Wow. She must work out more than I did.
    Geez. She really didn’t look like my idea of an investigator. More a movie star.
    Adele smiled at Goldie. “How’s it hanging,
chéri
?”
    Goldie chuckled. “Long, honey child. Long.”
    They howled.
    I started to join in, then froze. Hanging? Long?
Long!
    I looked up at Goldie.
Really
looked at her, past the beautiful skin, the perfect nose that any Pole like myself would kill for, those darn teeth and—I swallowed so loudly that Adele and Goldie glared at me.
    Goldie was a
he
.
    Now I realized his wrists were too thick to be a woman’s. Should have been a dead giveaway, but I had been mesmerized and didn’t notice. Okay, that didn’t bode well for my investigative skills.
    Adele must have seen my mouth gape open. She reached out with a gloved finger, very nonchalantly I might add, and ever-so-gently pushed my lower jaw closed. “Miles introduced Goldie to Fabio. Goldie is from New Orleans.”
    As if that would explain why a six-foot-tall, maybe Cajun, man would be dressed up in an outfit snazzier than any I owned for New Year’s Eve and still look as if he could win the Miss America title after waking up with wrinkles in his cheeks and his auburn hair spiking out all over. He was
that
good-looking. Shit. Maybe I could fix him up with Doc Taylor to get him off my back.
    I realized why I was here and decided I’d hang on to the doc a bit longer. I really needed
that
,