A Dose of Murder by Lori Avocato Page B

an insurance company.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œThat’s all anyone ever heard. So, Jagger works his way up to senior investigator then, after extensive training and
beaucoup
hours of work, in California he applies for a Private Investigation Agency license—then he moves to Connecticut.”
    â€œDid he get his license?”
    â€œDon’t know. But he moved, so that’s a moot point. Soon he’s working cases right under our noses. Adele says Jagger was around before Fabio hired her. She thinks he works for the state fraud unit.”
    â€œReally?” Hmm. A fraud investigator too. That might make sense.
    â€œMe? I think he’s FBI.” We turned into the lot.
    My heart leaped up to my throat. “FBI?” I croaked.
    Goldie laughed. “What, you got something to hide?”
    â€œI . . . no , silly. It’s just that I never met anyone who was an FBI agent.”
    Goldie got out and opened my door. “Maybe you have—and just didn’t
know
it.”
    I watched Goldie peel out of the parking lot as I fiddled around in my purse for my keys. Should have had them out before we got here, but I was so mesmerized by the stuff about Jagger, I could only sit and listen. “Yeah, right,” I muttered, fingering the keys at the bottom of my purse. They slipped away and I peered inside. “Jagger, FBI,” I said to myself.
    â€œWhat are you looking for, Pauline Sokol?”
    â€œMy keys.” What? Who the heck? I yanked my face out of my purse. Yikes!
    Tina Macaluso stood in front of me!
    â€œOh, hey. Antonina. Long time no see. What have you been up to?” Other than bilking the insurance company out of thousands. I fiddled more and pulled out the keys. Then I stupidly held them up for Tina to see.
    â€œIt’s Tina now. Not much, other than work. How about you?”
    Work? Work? She’d been on Workers’ Comp for weeks. “Oh, I worked at Saint Greg’s for years.”
    She leaned near, pushed my hand down. “I see you found your keys.”
    â€œOh, yeah.”
Get a grip, Pauline. You’re a professional
.
    â€œYou said ‘worked.’ What are you doing now?”
    Had she seen me watching her? Oh Lord! Did she recognize my car? Hopefully not. “I . . . got a . . . well , I thought I’d do some odd jobs.” Like follow you around and get your rather large butt on video.
    â€œOh, hey, I have something for you.”
    Ack! Maybe she saw Jagger and I watching her and Eddy. I almost expected her to whip out a gun and accuse me of stalking her. Where was the line between stalking and surveillance anyway? “Something—”
    â€œI’ve been out of work for several weeks now.”
    â€œOh.”
Fancy that
.
    â€œPulled my back out on the job.” She faked a wince.
    How’d I know it was fake? Hey, I’d seen her shovel as if the snow were made of Styrofoam. “You don’t say. How’d you manage to . . . do that?”
    â€œI work in orthopedics and tried to lift a heavy patient.”
    â€œFrom the floor?” The wind had picked up, and I was freezing my slender butt off. Tina had more insulation and that not-faux-fur jacket on. I stifled a shiver and waited for her lame explanation.
    â€œNo, silly. He was on the table.”
    â€œDon’t you have strong males around for that kind of stuff?” Be still my feminist heart. Okay, I had to ask to prod her for further info.
    â€œI can handle most things. Just happened to pull out my back this time.” She pushed her hat back farther on her head. “It’s as cold as Alaska today, Pauline. I can’t stay out here much longer—”
    â€œYou able to drive?” And shovel?
    â€œI—” She let out a deep, pathetic sigh.
    And here I thought the wind was strong.
    â€œI have to manage. Anyway . . .” She reached into her purse.
    I flinched and