My eyes widened. “Oh, Gold, that’s fabulous. I thought you’d be working that case for eons.”

He looked at me under his heavy black lashes. “Suga, every once in a while a miracle happens. A shitload of evidence falls into your lap. It’s up to us to make sure we catch it. Now I’m taking some time off.”

Miles and I looked at each other, and I knew we were both thinking: God, I hope he didn’t do anything illegal.

But then we both winked simultaneously and realized this was our Goldie we were talking about. Ex-army intelligence. Tall, smart. Sometimes beautiful. Sometimes handsome. Everyone loved Goldie, and he was as honest as the day was long.

Miles went to fix me tea and the two of them martinis while I told Goldie about my new assignment.

Once Miles came in with the tray of drinks, snacks of bruschetta, which he happened to whip up, and a doggie treat for Spanky, I leaned back and sighed.

“I’ll never come up with a way to get into that place.”

Goldie eased his drink from the tray, muttered a thanks to Miles and leaned closer to me. “You know who can help you.”

It was barely a whisper, and I knew it killed him to bring it up.

My mind wandered for a few seconds to my sometimes “partner” in crime solving. The enigmatic, always mysterious, deliciously handsome, exuding maleness through pheromones Jagger-who Goldie constantly reminded me not to get interested in-you know, in that way.

“Stop fantasizing about him and give him a call,” Goldie ordered.

I didn’t take offense because I knew I needed that verbal slap to stop my foolish fantasy. Yes, I was somewhat smitten with Jagger, although-after only a few kisses-I really didn’t think he noticed that I was young, hopefully hot, and female.

Jagger worked with his own agenda.

I breathed out a long sigh, which seemed to let my body cool off a bit, and took a sip of tea. Then I said, “I can’t call him. I mean I won’t. I really have to work by myself. I can’t rely on him over and over. You know I’ve gotten myself out of scrapes on my own-”

They both glared at me.

“Okay, I shot an elevator-twice-and had a few near misses on board-”

“Not to mention getting shanghaied into the mental hospital, Pauline.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Miles.” I forced a smile. “I really do want to work alone. I’m a big girl now.”

“Oh, that reminds me, Suga. I ran into your mother at the Stop and Save…”

I knew Goldie was talking, but the mention of Stella Sokol had the power to cause my decent intelligence to nosedive. I yanked my robe tighter, remembering her constant reminder not to come home from work and put on my robe or I’d never have a life outside of nursing since I’d be home-bound for the night. I looked at the clock. Four-thirty.

I had no life.

“…so, tonight at six,” Goldie finished.

I blinked as if that would pull back the words he’d just wasted on me. “Six?”

Miles got up and put a hand on my shoulder. “I knew you didn’t hear a thing past ‘mother.’ Get dressed, Pauline. We’re off to your homestead for, what is today?”

“Thursday,” Goldie and I said in unison.

“Then pork roast it is,” Miles finished.

You could set Greenwich Mean Time on Stella Sokol’s meal plan. Mom made the same meal for the same day of the week-always. The thing was, the retro house (original stuff inside and out like shag carpeting and knickknacks were never updated) with white metal siding at 171 David Drive always smelled like kielbasa and sauerkraut no matter the day of the week.

Every time I stepped onto the royal blue shag carpeting in the living room, nostalgia had my heart flutter-until my mother suggested that I move back in. Then I’d have to rush off to find her pine-scented Renuzit, which always filled the air in Mom’s house. She bought it in bulk. It’d come to be a comforting scent for me, and sometimes I sprayed the air a few extra times when my life wasn’t going…too well.

I couldn’t even count on two hands how often that was lately.

“Goldie, you look attractive. And Miles as handsome as ever,” Mom said while she gave all of us a big hug. “Pauline, you look horrible.”

I wondered if my mother thought I needed a nose job, but then again she probably was talking about the red jogging shorts and black jogging jacket I’d thrown on. No one important would see me here.

“Thanks, Mom,” I muttered, kissing my dad on the forehead as he read his newspaper (always took all day long to finish since he’d retired).

Daddy mumbled, “Hello, Pa¸czki!”

I smiled. He called me the endearing term since I came kicking and screaming into this world at ten pounds five ounces. Now my purse weighted that much. No one else could get away with calling me a prune-filled Polish doughnut except Daddy.

Miles went into the kitchen to get us all something to drink, and I could hear him arguing with Mom. She never wanted any help, or she wouldn’t be the star hostess, something she reveled in. However, she always backed down when it came to Miles.

They were both so cute.

The front door opened as I sat myself on the couch next to Goldie.

“Is that Pauline’s car in the driveway?” my favorite uncle called out.

I jumped up and ran to the foyer. “You know it is, Uncle Walt. You know cars better than Henry Ford.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and he gave me a hug.

“How’s the business?” he asked.

I laughed. “Got a new case today.” Uncle Walt was always one of my supporters for leaving nursing. My father remained silent, my siblings couldn’t care less, and my mother always tried to get me to go back. After four cases she still thought it was “just a phase.”

Finally we were all seated in the dining room (Mom never let company sit in the kitchen to eat.) We chatted about nothing, ate gigantic amounts until I had to unbutton the snap on my shorts, and then ate some more when Mom brought out her famous chocolate cake with Hood’s vanilla ice cream on the side. I slid my zipper down about an inch and dug into the dessert.

“So, Pauline,” Mom said as she handed Daddy an extra large slice of cake. “Did you read the article in the paper about the nursing shortage, and that they are hiring at Saint Gregory’s Hospital?”

I choked on the ice cream.

“Um. Hm.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She sat down next to Daddy and started to pour coffee for everyone.

I swallowed, coughed and swallowed again. My throat froze instantly, but I managed, “Mom, I am a medical fraud insurance investigator now. No longer a nurse. I’m sorry about the shortage, but there’s been a shortage since I graduated over thirteen years ago. I’m sure my leaving didn’t have that big an impact.”

She continued on about the article as if I’d never said a thing.

Miles and Goldie had seconds on the cake and ice cream. Daddy had thirds. Uncle Walt took his usual “seated at the table” nap, and Mom glared at me. “So, what is your next case?”

I could hear her teeth grinding, trying to get the words out. “Well, it is in lovely Newport, Rhode Island, Mom. Right near the ocean. I’ll be able to walk along the cliff near all the mansions. This time of the year should be beautiful there. Not too hot yet.”

She held her fork in the air. “I know spring is a lovely time of the year, Pauline, but you are evading the issue. What kind of trouble are you going to put yourself into now?” She set down her fork and made the sign of the cross on her forehead.

I could see Miles shift in his chair.

Goldie muttered something and gave me a pathetic look. Well, the look was more like sympathy and I was the pathetic one.

Daddy kept eating.

Uncle Walt snored, and I sat there feeling as if I was five years old.

“I’m going to do private duty nursing at a plastic surgery clinic, Mom.”

I could see Goldie and Miles’s shocked yet pleased expressions. Thanks to Mom, I just figured out how to get into the clinic to do my investigation! Now all I needed was…a patient.