The Stiff and the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

Jell-O. That should be easy to swallow. You need nourishment.” After he shut his eyes, I went into the kitchen and rifled around until I had the individual glass dishes filled with cherry Jell-O. When I went to put them in the fridge, I gasped. Goldie’s refrigerator was nearly empty. In fact, the kitchen was nowhere near as organized as Miles’s. Goldie wasn’t the chef type. This led me to the conclusion that the two belonged together soon, or Goldie might starve to death.
    But that left me in an awkward position.
    I couldn’t impose on my two best friends and stay in Miles’s condo if Goldie moved in. But I also couldn’t cough up the bucks for a down payment on a place of my own yet. Each month, like excruciatingly painful clockwork, I had to pay a car loan—for a hefty-priced Lexus—that I didn’t own. A “friend” had me cosign her car loan—then hightailed it (in style) out of town. With my addiction to shopping, my savings account was quite sparse. Lately, I vowed to fatten it up, but Fabio only paid when the job was done.
    I needed to nail Sophie Banko soon, and find out more about Mr. Wisnowski. Was there a connection? Not exactly my line of work. Besides, I had nothing to report to the cops yet and didn’t want my previous dealing with them, when I’d almost bought the farm, to make them treat me like some whacko.
    â€œPauline? You still here?”
    I hurried to Goldie’s side. “Yep. Your Jell-O is now solidifying. I added ice cubes instead of cold water so it works faster.”
    He looked up, grinned and took my hand. “I’ll never be able to repay you.”
    â€œStop that. That’s what friends are for. Besides, look at all you helped me with on my first investigation.” He had been a doll.
    He pulled himself up and tucked the comforter under his arms. I guessed he’d had enough of the “dying scene” and decided he was going to make it. “What’d Fabio give you this time?”
    I was dying—no pun intended—to tell him. Tell him and ask what the heck I should do next. But should I really burden such an ill man? “Prescription fraud, Gold.”
    One eyebrow rose. “Interesting.”
    I sat on the edge of the bed and took his arm. Ever since I was a kid, my mother used to tickle, oh so very gently, our arms when we were sick. Turned out it annoyed my siblings, but me, I loved it. Even stopped my bloody noses when Mother tickled my arm. I especially liked the bottoms of my feet tickled. Very soothing. Goldie needed soothing, but I drew the line at feet. Without a word, I rolled up his gold silk pajama sleeve and set his arm next to me on the bed. Gently I rubbed. Goldie sighed like a kid whose mom had just hugged him.
    â€œYes, it seems as if it will be an interesting, if not more complicated case.”
    â€œUm.”
    Shoot. Not getting me anywhere. “Actually, Gold, my uncle thinks Mr. W was murdered for interfering with some Viagra fraud ring.”
    His arm stiffened. He turned to look at me. Beneath the now smudged mascara and heavy pancake makeup—deep bronze tone—a smile cracked across his coral lips. “You shittin’ me?”
    â€œActually, no.” I proceeded to tell him the entire conversation I’d had with my uncle, not leaving out that all I had left was Sophie Banko to investigate. What I did leave out was that “my” car loan payment was due in a few weeks and I needed the money from this case, and a bit more, actually.
    Goldie sat up straighter. “You don’t want to hear this, but you need to hang more at the senior citizens center. Only way to find out the dirt. Can’t rely on your uncle who isn’t a skilled investigator.”
    I froze. “And neither am I.”
    Now he tickled my arm. “You’re coming along. You’re a fast study. You’re going to do a bang-up job on this one like the