like his chest, he said, âDonât waste them on me, Sherlock. Youâre here and when you do your job, youâll get out.â
Dumbfounded, I sucked in a breath and the last sniffle. âCreep.â
He nodded, in what I termed was agreement. âIt wonât take long if you help me.â
I grabbed the end of the exam tableâand tightened. Ouch. I eased up a bit and said, âHelp you, as in escort Mary Louise Huntington? For only a few hours? Oh, wait, you forgot to tell me the best part. That I was going to get kidnapped. Is that the kind of help you mean?â
âIt isnât easy to get someone into this place. That guy dressed as a nun is the one you need to find out more about. Have you seen him since being here?â
My heart started to race a bit. I could see the guyâs evil face poking out of his habit. Then I rubbed my arm as if I could feel where the needle went in. âNo. Why? What the hell was that all about?â
âIâll fill you in later.â
âI want answers now, Jagger!â
âLook, Paulineââ
Gulp. Guess he wasnât going to meet my demand.
ââThe less you know the better. I need you to stay here a few days and keep an eye out for that guy.â
âI have a case of my own to do, you know.â
He merely looked at me. Of course Jagger knew about my case. He seemed to know everything, but really wasnât good at sharing. In my anger I pictured him as a selfish kid not sharing his toys.
âI know about your case. Fabio gave you that one so you could . . . itâs a small case, Pauline. Wonât take you long.â
Now my heart sank. There was a connection, a reason why Fabio had given me the psychiatric caseâso I could get stuck in here for Jagger.
Sister Wacky shoved the door open. âEverything all right, Dr. Plummer?â She gave me a sympathetic look. I really liked the woman now.
âFine. I have a bit more to discuss with my patientââ
âOh, dear.â She touched her short-nailed finger to her lip. âOh, my.â
âIs there a problem, Sister?â
âWhy yes. Mary . . . Pauline is due for her first treatment. Dr. Pinkerton wrote the order before he left.â
Treatmentâin a mental hospital!
Now my heart really raced.
It wasnât my treatment she was talking about but Mary Louiseâs. How was Jagger going to get me out of this one?
âAnd what treatment is that, Sister?â he asked.
âECT.â She looked at me.
ECT? My mind searched my old mental nursing files. What the hell did that stand for and why the hell did they have to use so many abbreviations in medicine?
Sister touched my arm. âElectroconvulsive therapy, my child.â
I swung around to Jagger, who at least had the good sense to look stunned, as I murmured, â Electric shock treatment.â
Before Sister could explain, I screamed, âJagger! Jaaaaagger!â
Dr. Dick gave the nun another Playgirl-cente rf old smile.
âWhat is a Jagger?â the nun asked me.
Dr. Dick interrupted with, âThatâs just a term Pauline told me she uses instead of cursing. She uses âJaggerâ instead of those nasty four-letter words.â
I turned toward him. âJagger you , buddy.â
After my âfoulmouthâ incident, I watched Sister Liz, as I fondly called her now, leave. I used to have an internal feeling that I was always safe around Jaggerâuntil now. Now I turned my feelings of safety to Sister Liz.
She had to be my ticket out of here.
Jagger leaned closer to me.
âDonât touch me, or Iâll deck you again.â Not that I could, but the words gave me some kind of power.
âLook, Pauline, this is a job. How we got here doesnât matter. You said youâd help me, andââ
âNot that I want to harp on it again, but getting here as a patient was not in the plan. Where the