Never Cry Uncle Page 4

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re not gloved and you’re not a cop. Don’t touch. I’m already on probation.”

  Luke snickered and stood. “Still can’t keep yourself in line, huh?”

  Ramsey pushed Owens away to the door. “Too many rules.”

  Luke stopped just outside the door. “Do the rules allow you to wear blue jeans?”

  Ramsey grinned, despite his foul mood. “Bite me.”

  He followed Luke back to his truck. “Money’s good being private, huh?”

  “Oh yeah. If I had a pension and insurance I’d be set.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  Luke didn’t hesitate. “Hell no. I’m my own boss and I do things how and when I want.”

  Ramsey grunted. “The Gospel according to Luke. No protocol, no procedure, and no political bullshit.”

  Luke simply shrugged as he climbed into his truck. “Think about it, Ramsey. I could use a partner.”

  ***

  Don Antonio Scarletti stretched his massive paws in front of him before he lowered his muscled fur-ridden body to the Persian carpet beneath him. Since joining the canine ranks, he found himself partial to the soft foundation of Don Carlos’ parlor. He lifted his snout and inhaled the familiar scent of vanilla with a hint of cherry undertones. Don Carlos relaxed in his recliner beside him, silent and expectant.

  Scar lifted an ear at the sound of footsteps moments before a guest entered the parlor. Soon his second brother, Carmine approached the oversized, wing-backed chairs beside Don Carlos.

  “I’ve come with news,” Carmine said softly.

  Scar heard the sound of striking flint before a small spark lit the end of a thick, Cuban cigar.

  “Sit, sit,” Don Carlos answered.

  Carmine sat and waited to be addressed. A puff of smoke floated through the air and permission was granted with the wave of a hand.

  “The good doctor has been silenced.”

  The devil danced in the old man’s eyes. “I believe there is more to the story, yes?”

  Carmine folded his hands into his lap. “She has become involved.”

  Scar watched silently as the Don ground his cigar into a marble ashtray while a smile graced his aged cheeks. “Ay! Mio dio, she is spirited! Just like her mama´! She makes my head ache, that one. Has she come to you?”

  Carmine laughed softly. “You know better, brother.”

  The Don’s hearty laughter filled the parlor. Scar added a deep growl of agreement. “Call a meeting. We must prepare.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tuesday morning, Allison stood braced against a corner filing cabinet in the front office and shook her head at Lucy’s current state of mind. Obviously still distressed, Lucy sat wringing her hands.

  “Relax, Lucy,” Allison murmured.

  “I’m trying. I really am. It’s just that I spent hours last night trying to come up with a way to convince Dr. Smallwood I’m actually sane.”

  Amused, Allison tilted her head to one side. “Come to any conclusions?”

  “I think I’ll just tell him I took too much cold medication which caused me to be delusional. Considering I was naked when we last spoke, what else can I say?”

  “I don’t think you need an explanation.”

  Lucy twisted her hands and sighed. “I’m so ready to get this over.” She huffed. “Where is he?”

  “The last surgery was at ten o’clock. Should be any time now.”

  Just as Lucy opened her mouth to speak, the bell over the front door chimed.

  She turned her back to the door. “I can’t look.”

  Allison leaned around the corner to peek out the protective glass around the reception desk.

  “Oh, God,” Lucy whimpered.

  Allison took a deep breath. “It’s not him,” she murmured.

  Lucy’s shoulders sagged in relief as she spun around and slid the Plexiglass open. “Good morn—”

  Allison paused at Lucy’s unfinished sentence and then glanced at the man standing before them. A sexy, dark-haired Adonis whose shoulder muscles strained against a navy blue suit coat. Denim jeans covered his long legs. Although his eyes suggested he was fatigued, they still managed to sparkle with a subtle hint of mischief through the clear barrier around the desk. Interesting. All that magnificence wrapped in one enticing package addressed to Lucy Monroe, Office Manager and Resident Blackmailer.

  Lucy gave him a demure smile. “Can I help you?”

  The dark knight flashed a silver badge. “Detective Ben Ramsey.”

  Allison’s heartbeat skipped and changed its cadence from a jungle rhythm to a funeral march.

  Lucy fell backwards into her chair. “Detective?”

  “Maplewood Police Department. I’m afraid I’ve come with some bad news.”

  “Bad news?” Lucy reverted to her nervous parrot talk.

  Allison stepped around the corner. “What seems to be the problem, Detective?”

  The detective shifted from foot to foot, as if her appearance shook his confidence. “We discovered Dr. Jeffrey Smallwood’s body this morning. It appears he was the victim of a homicide.”

  Lucy shot Allison a deer-in-the-headlights look and right on cue, her knee bounced nervously.

  “Murdered?” she gasped.

  He gave a slight, hesitant nod, as if he expected a hysterical scream. Instead, Lucy cleared her throat and squared her shoulders.

  “How do you know he was murdered?”

  He gave a lazy, half smile. “The syringe planted in his jugular was a dead give-a-way. Excuse the pun.”

  Allison felt her eyes widen. The detective actually had a sense of humor. Or did he? He still hadn’t taken his eyes off Lucy. Perhaps it was his way of softening the blow so to speak. Allison held her breath, careful not to break the moment between the two.

  “Sorry.” He ran a hand over his already-mussed hair. “I’ve been up all night.”

  Allison fought the urge to giggle. How ironic. Dr. Smallwood was murdered with the one instrument he cherished. Once he stabbed his patients with one of those things, his artistic madness began. Noses were shaped, wrinkles smoothed, breasts plumped, and even cheekbones were sculpted. All very legal activities when he did them.

  Lucy’s quiet whimper caused Allison to focus back on the conversation. Like a wet noodle, Lucy’s body began its descent down her chair. Allison poked two thumbs under her armpits and placed her upright in the chair.

  He frowned. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s just overwhelmed.” Allison shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “They were very close.”

  “How close?”

  Lucy glared at Allison before looking back at the detective. “I’ve worked for him for the last seven years.” Her left knee bounced double time.

  He nodded and pursed his lips before he reached into his suit coat pocket and withdrew a pen and notepad. “Names?”

  Allison hesitated before speaking. Maybe just this once she would break her cardinal rule about names. “Allison Campbell.”

  She caught a slight glimmer of curiosity in his eyes as he heard her full name. She expected one of two things to happen. He would either apologize for wasting her time or run from the room screaming.

  Instead, he turned his attention to Lucy. “And yours?”

  “Lucy Monroe.”

  “When was the last time you saw Dr. Smallwood?”

  “Yesterday at work.”

  Again, Allison restrained herself from adding to Lucy’s response. She means, when I flipped out and told him I wanted to explore my inner, adventurous sexual spirit.

  “He was alive and well when we left him,” Lucy added. Which was the truth. Actually, everything Lucy told the detective was the truth. She’d just left out a little bit of information. Important information.

  “What time was that?”

  Lucy opened her mouth to speak when Allison jumped in. “We finished a Botox at 4:30. When Lucy and I left him at 5:15, he was on the ph
one.”

  “You two left together?”

  Allison nodded. “Safety in numbers, Detective.”

  “Did you lock the door behind you?”

  “The front door was already locked. We left out the back door. Once it’s closed, it’s locked.”

  “So the office was only accessible by key?”

  “Yes, and the last one out is supposed to set the alarm.”

  Allison studied her nails, not intimidated in the least by Detective Ramsey’s questions. Lucy drew in one shaky breath and exhaled another as he fired questions at them like bullets at target practice.

  Allison wasn’t entirely convinced the detective’s questions were what made Lucy nervous. She had to admit he was handsome and possessed a commanding manner that reeked of authority and confidence. But he couldn’t compare to Zorro. Allison frowned, not sure what caused that comparison. Probably nerves.

  “How many people have keys to the office?” he continued.

  “Just us and Dr. Smallwood,” Allison answered.

  “No extras?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “What about Mrs. Smallwood?”

  Lucy answered the question. “We don’t see much of her.”

  “She doesn’t participate in the business?”

  Lucy twisted her lips. “Participate? Sure, under the knife.”

  His face remained closed. “What about business partners?”

  “Dr. Smallwood owns and operates the clinic individually.”

  “Where did the two of you go after you left the clinic?”

  Lucy’s cheeks reddened. “I went shopping.”

  “For what?”

  “Personal items.”

  “Drugstore?”

  “Yes.”

  He glanced from his notepad to Allison. “And you?”

  “I went to a family meeting.”

  Allison was shocked when a giggle slipped past Lucy’s lips. The detective raised an eyebrow.

  “Sorry,” Lucy murmured.

  “A family meeting?” he repeated.

  “Yeah,” Allison said nonchalantly. “Dinner, drinks, discussion. Your typical family meeting.”

  Allison’s insides screamed with maniacal laughter. If the detective had any sense of what she actually meant by a family meeting, he’d pocket his notepad and run.

  “I’ll need names of witnesses.”

  “The clerk at Stevenson’s Mercantile can vouch for me,” Lucy said.

  Allison shook her head. “Sorry, my sources are confidential, but the maitre’ d at Eccelenza Italiana can verify my attendance.”

  He gave her a penetrating stare. “Did the three of you get along?”

  Lucy frowned at his implication. “We got along just fine. In fact, Dr. Smallwood couldn’t run the place without us.” She cleared her throat as if to close the discussion. “Excuse me for being direct, Detective, but if you’d like to continue this interrogation, we should have a lawyer present.” She focused on her computer and entered several commands. “Now, I need to cancel appointments for today and probably tomorrow.”

  He chuckled at her haughty dismissal and handed Allison a business card. “Don’t leave town.”

  Lucy released a long sigh as the door closed behind him.

  “Good job!” Allison gave her a high five.

  “I let you take charge all the time, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t rubbed off on me over the years.”

  “Oh, you let me take charge, do you?” Allison laughed. “Seriously, though, we might be in some trouble here.”

  “We didn’t kill him!”

  “I know that and you know that, but the cops don’t. Besides, employees and spouses are always the first suspects.”

  “Do you think he’ll be back?”

  Allison snorted. “Oh, he’ll be back.”

  “We need to call Uncle Sergio,” Lucy insisted. “The Bulldog can handle Detective Ramsey. No sweat.”

  Allison dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Don’t panic, we can handle this ourselves.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Let me think. I’ll come up with something, just don’t worry. We’ll get out of this mess.” Allison tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You know, we could still blackmail Winslow.”

  “You have lost your mind!”

  “Lighten up, Luce, it was just a thought.”

  “An insane one. Are you sure we don’t need Sergio?”

  “You know how I feel about my family’s help.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. We haven’t been arrested, just questioned.”

  Lucy sighed. “Fine. What should I tell these patients when I call?”

  “It’s probably breaking news by now. Just tell them the truth.”

  “I guess I should call Dr. Winslow about the surgeries.”

  Allison nodded. “You’ll have to. He’s the Chief of Surgery.”

  Lucy’s stomach clenched. “I can hardly speak to him now that I know ... you know.”

  “His dirty little secret?” Allison smirked.

  Lucy exhaled hard and then picked up the phone. “Here goes. Keep the trash can handy.”

  Allison listened as Lucy dialed Dr. Winslow’s extension at Maplewood Memorial Hospital, halfway hopeful when Lucy didn’t speak for several seconds. Then, Lucy’s face paled.

  “Uh, hello Dr. Winslow.” Lucy spoke quickly. “I called to see what to do about Dr. Smallwood’s surgeries.”

  Allison swallowed the bile in her throat as images of Dr. Winslow in his birthday suit, injecting Dr. Smallwood, ricocheted through her brain.

  Lucy’s knuckles whitened as she squeezed the phone in her grasp and answered another of Winslow’s questions. “Botox. Mostly lips and cheeks.”

  A small silence and then Lucy squeezed her eyes closed. “Here? At the clinic?”

  Allison knew then exactly what would happen.

  “Thank you, Dr. Winslow. I’ll fax the schedule before we leave.”

  Lucy hung up and draped herself over the trash can. “Oh, Allison,” she said weakly. “That was most unpleasant.”

  “He’s coming here, isn’t he?”

  Lucy straightened then sank back against her chair. “He will schedule the surgeries on his rotation and see everybody else in the clinic.”

  “Leech.”

  “I agree, but he is the only other cosmetic surgeon in town.”

  “He sure was quick to volunteer.”

  Lucy shrugged. “Anything to make a buck.” She glared at the schedule on her computer screen. “Wonderful.”

  “What?”

  “Mrs. Winters is scheduled next week. She’ll pitch a fit if her lips aren’t plumped.”

  “Let Winslow do it this week. She won’t care.”

  “Who do you suppose hated Dr. Smallwood enough to kill him?”

  “Besides us? C’mon, Lucy, the man was a total creep. How many times have you had to dodge his wandering hands?”

  “I thought he was just a pervert.”

  “That too. But what about his cocky, holier-than-thou attitude? I hate being talked to like a kindergartner. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been tempted to smack him upside his bald head.” Allison paused for a second breath. “He’s supposed to be a licensed, skilled surgeon, right? Half the time, I end up doing the procedure myself. Who do you think froze Mrs. Robert’s face last week?”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, Dr. Pain-in-the-butt made her wait for an hour and then told me to go ahead because he had to make a phone call.”

  “You’re not a doctor, Allison.”

  “Oh puhleese! I can do his job with my eyes closed. Know who he called?”

  “Who?”

  “His freakin’ investment banker.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. So while you busted your delicate little derrie’re to fill his schedule and collect his money, and I did his dirty work, he sat on his 300 pound slab of meat and planned how to s
pend his next million.”

  Allison reeled in her frustration. Very rarely did she unleash her fiery temper, but when she did, the earth quaked.

  “Want me to call Dr. Winslow back?” Lucy asked.

  Allison rolled her eyes and laughed. “No thanks. Sorry, talking about Smallwood just makes me so mad.”

  “Just not mad enough to kill him.”

  “I was pretty angry when I found out he pocketed my bonus.”

  Lucy moved her computer mouse to click on another page. “We’ve really been cheated, Allison.”

  “How come we didn’t know?”

  “The receivables were balanced last quarter. Obviously, he pocketed the cash this quarter.”

  “Jerk!” Allison hissed. “However, today is payday. I say we make up for it.”

  Lucy cut her eyes at Allison. “How?”

  Allison tapped the top of the computer with one fingernail. “Isn’t Mrs. Smallwood the beneficiary of the business account?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “We’ll just call her and get permission,” Allison continued. “She has no clue how much money we make. Besides, we have paperwork to back it up.”

  Lucy slapped the desk with a palm. “What a sneak! I’m calling Mrs. Smallwood.”

  Lucy stabbed the telephone keys, then in her best receptionist/blackmailer/loyal employee voice spoke to Mrs. Smallwood. After a few minutes of light conversation, she replaced the receiver and shot Allison a told-ya-so grin.

  “She actually told me to add a little something for the inconvenience.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Lucy opened the checkbook and began to write. “Nope.”

  “Will the checks clear?”

  Lucy signed her curly-Q signature to the first check. “Yep. Mrs. Smallwood said she would make absolutely sure.”

  “She knows,” Allison insisted.

  “I think she does.” Lucy tore the check from the checkbook and handed it to Allison. “Here, this should cover it.”

  Allison bobbed her head. “That should just about cover it. What should we do tonight?”

  “Let’s get pizza.”

  “Great! Make your phone calls and we’ll call it a day.”

  CHAPTER SIX