Deadly Diet
Page 3
Jerking his gaze back to the kids, Aaron sighed, lifting his hand to rub at his forehead. “I didn’t know they were using those. Is it that bad?” We stared toward the blue handles as they moved in our children’s more than capable hands. I could almost hear the grinding of stone on metal from that distance.
I cleared my throat, grateful to have something else to focus on besides the events at the meeting. “You know how rocky that soil is. Remember our carrots last year? More crooked than a politician. No. I want new loppers. I can’t…” I shook my head and cast a side-glance at Aaron. I took gardening seriously and he knew it.
It was turning into a day.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled out my cell. A text from Nikki, telling me to call her. I didn’t want to go in and watch the kids destroy my tools, but I also didn’t want to stop the congenial play time they were all engaged in. A few minutes of no fighting was worth some ruined-to-be-replaced-loppers.
“I need to call Nikki.” I motioned at the cell and grinned at Aaron who stood with his arms crossed staring at the kids. “You’re lucky they’re so cute.”
He rolled his eyes at me and turned from the kids. “I didn’t sleep well enough to deal with this. I’ll be over here. Tell Nikki hi.” He waved his hand and walked toward the chicken coop and pen. I didn’t know any other chickens who had a hundred square foot pen that disappeared into the woods. We loved our ladies.
I rang Nikki’s number and moved to sink into a rocking Adirondack chair. She picked up and I jumped right in. “Hey, you missed a heckuva meeting today, Sis. Did you hear?” Sis was her long-time nickname. If nothing else, Nikki was like my sister. We’d do anything for each other. Her problems were mine and mine hers.
Nikki hadn’t been there and try as hard as I could, making her show up was getting harder and harder. I was sure (okay, not that sure) her absence was because she had to work and not because she felt like an outsider. No one in the family – include her – had heard her mom – my mom’s closest sister, Kiki – in two years.
“What happened?” Nikki’s curiosity ran the levels mine and Mom’s did. We enjoyed the gossip and all of us were more than a little nosy. You had to be to be in that family.
I plucked at the hem-line of my shirt and blinked. “Debra died. We… I… I was the one that found her in her car in the parking lot.” I hadn’t fully processed the fact that I’d found her body. I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about it or how to even claim it. Was finding a body something one bragged about?
“Debra, from our group? I didn’t know you found her.” Nikki didn’t sound surprised that Debra was dead. She fell quiet for a minute and then asked softly, “Are you okay? Was it weird?”
Deflecting the question, I asked her a different one. “Did you see her come through there?” I tilted my head to the side. Nikki worked in the county coroner’s office. She was a hands-on lab tech and assisted the coroner. No one knew we talked about the details of the cases she got through there, but we did – a lot.
“You know I can’t talk about it, but I shouldn’t say I think she died from arsenic poisoning.” Nikki dropped her voice to just above a whisper. We always acted like we were following the rules and then we blatantly broke them.
“How do you know?” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I kept my voice low, too. Nikki wasn’t joking around and the serious tone had me suddenly on edge.
The image of my children playing in the sunlight and dirt seemed miles away from where Nikki and I were, even though she wasn’t there with me.
Nikki cleared her throat and I could almost envision her glancing around her for others who might overhear. “The signs are chronic; long term, poisoning. It’s in her hair and her skin. They’re pushing me to stop investigating it, and I don’t understand why.”
I considered what she was saying without actually saying it. “Okay, yeah, I understand. We should talk about this… um…” But when? “Hey, are you guys going to Easter at Grandma’s? I’m not sure I can handle ham and Trevor all at once.” I swallowed, nervous to pursue the topic about Debra over the phone. I was a firm believer in cell phones being listened to, but no one really seemed to care.
Of course, I wasn’t the most interesting thing for anyone to listen to, but what if I was? Yeah, there were so many what-ifs.
Nikki paused and then answered hesitantly. “Yeah, you’re right. We do need to talk about this. Honestly, I’m not sure yet on Easter. I really need to figure out what happened. I’ll try. We need to talk this out. I think… I think they’re going to brush it to the side. They’re trying to convince everyone it’s accidental. Her husband has been sick, too – or so he reported.”
“What happens if they do that when you said it’s arsenic?” I wasn’t sure how the politics worked at the coroners. I knew they were voted in, but I wasn’t sure how anything else worked there.
“The worst. I could lose my job… maybe more.” Nikki cleared her throat and forcibly brightened her tone. “Meet me before Easter and we can do some eggs.” Things must be serious. Nikki hated dying eggs worse than she hated button-up shirts – which was saying something.
“We’ll get this figured out.” I wasn’t sure how to convince her that I’d help her, but she had to know. There was no way I’d let her lose her job. She was a single mom and that job was all she had. I nodded and something purple in Ryder’s hands caught my eye. I stood up and shook my head. “Hey, we’ll figure this out. I promise. I need to go. Ryder and David are using my hair brush to groom the lawn.” I think it was the same spot we dumped the chicken coop waste.
It was definitely turning into a crazy day.
4
Midnight moonlight cast a silvery glow across the duvet cover on the bed I shared with Aaron. I stared into the dim lighting cast by multiple nightlights spread throughout the upper level of our two-story home. The presence of all those lights was probably why my electricity bill was so high. I’d have to ask Aaron about it in the morning. Hopefully, he slept. I’d hate for the entire night to be a wash for both of us.
Sleep evaded me with the persistence of weight gain. Nothing I did could erase the image of Debra, dead in her car seat, from my mind. I closed my eyes and there she was – vomit and all. I snapped my eyelids open and stared more at the shadowy pitched ceiling.
If I wanted to be a contender for survival the next day with all six of my children ganging up on me, I needed sleep. Sliding my leg to the side seeking the cool silkiness of the sheets, I sighed.
Aaron rolled over, squinting at me like he was still sleeping. “Can’t sleep?” He reached over and let his hand find mine in the space between our pillows. His touch was comforting, warm, and loose.
Wrinkling my nose, I turned toward him. “No. Hey, wanna mess around?” It was half-hearted but I needed to be distracted. Maybe we both would sleep better.
Aaron yawned and squeezed my hand in his. “Babe, I’m interested, but I’m super sore. Andrew hit me with a rock from his slingshot and I fell off the four-wheeler. That ground really is rocky. Can I take a raincheck?” His words were slurred with sleep and a little bit of shame.
I stifled a laugh. I’d heard about the “Shot that Rang ‘Round the Yard” at dinner, but I think it was still processing how hard it had hit my husband. He would most likely have a bruise or a knot right on his forehead. Patting his hand, I threw back the covers, careful not to uncover him and climbed from the bed.
I couldn’t stay there any longer. I needed to move, do something to get the image of her lifeless body out of my head. I pulled on my sweat pants and fluffy socks along with a comfy t-shirt I had on the floor and padded to the hallway at the top of the stairs.
Pausing, I listened to the soft sounds of my sleeping children and smiled when the sounds of my youngest’s snoring filled the spaces between the oldest talking in his sleep. They were crazy, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
Downstairs, I put a kettle of hot water on the stove and flipped
on the outside floodlights to put the backyard on display.
Aaron had placed a deer feeder at the back of the corner of the garden just past the edge of the chicken pen. Unaware of the floodlights showcasing their presence, a doe and two fawns munched on new grass and weeds along the edge of the yard, working their way toward the feeder. Their ears flicked front to side to back as they listened for any signs of danger.
Half-smiling at the innocent scene, I returned to the stove and poured the boiling water into my favorite oversized mug and added my favorite chocolate-flavored tea. I had a serious addiction with tea. Too bad my addiction didn’t stop there with edible treats. I loved most things you could eat and I think the only items on my “do not touch” list was baby meat – anything that was killed as a baby like lamb and veal. I couldn’t handle the mentality around it. Other than that, the possibilities were endless.
Dunking the tea bag in the hot water, I stared unseeing at the changing water color. My phone buzzed on the counter beside my tea cup. I didn’t know anyone else who might be up that late. I reached for the cell, swiping the screen to pull up a text from my mom.
I can’t sleep.
Rather than text her back, I called. I wasn’t in the mood to sit there and text when I had a cup of tea to drink and I really didn’t want to hear the silence much longer. The quiet was unnerving and I hated that.
She picked up on the first half ring. I stirred a spoon in the tea with a good cascade of white sugar to mix in. “I’m watching deer eat my yard.” I didn’t bother with a greeting. Mom and I rarely stood on formalities. It drove Grandma crazy – which was probably partly why we did it.
“A coyote just ran off with a chicken. I’m not amused and Miguel went to bed.” She sighed, irritation strong in her voice. “Why can’t you sleep?” She asked it like a question, but more like she already knew why and just needed a segue-way into what we both wanted to talk about.
We paused, the memory of that morning fresh in both our minds. “Probably the same reason you can’t.” I swallowed, blinking back tears. “I wish I hadn’t found her.”
“Yeah, that would be hard. I didn’t think of that.” Mom’s tone turned regretful. After a moment, she continued, “But if it makes you feel any better, it’s on my bucket list to find a dead body.”
I stopped stirring my aromatic tea and furrowed my brow. “What? Why would anyone say anything like that?” But I got it. Sometimes I wished I was the one in the emergency exit row on a plane who had to help everyone else out after crashing. Random thoughts were hard to maintain, but at least they came from a good place, I think.
“I don’t know. I think I want to find one because it will make me feel like I really am seeing my surroundings rather than just living through them, if that makes sense.” A clinking of metal on glass in the background on her end of the phone brought a smile to my face.
“Yeah, I get it.” I did. Not being present seemed to be something we both worried about a lot lately.
“Well, I’m not sure what happened. How would she just die in her car like that?” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “I want to find out what’s going on, something’s not right with the whole thing.” I didn’t mention the conversation with Nikki. There was a lot of bad blood in the Fleming family and most of it swirled around Nikki’s mother. She’d hurt a lot of people and my mother just happened to be one of them.
None of that mattered though. I wanted to know what was going on since Nikki’s job was on the line. If she lost her job, what would happen with her children? She was already on the edge of losing them to her ex-husband – he had more money, a more stable environment, and he had recently gotten remarried. He had more to offer the kids than a single mother with student loan debt to rival a small family’s dual income and her moving from home to home.
I loved Nikki. I wanted to see her succeed. I had to help her any way I could.
“What do you think is going on? Like Debra was killed or something?” Mom’s voice took on a conspiratorial tone like she leaned in to hear more.
How involved could I get Mom without her knowing we were helping Nikki? “Yeah, like could she have been killed?” I chewed on my bottom lip. My mom was smart, especially with reasoning. If there were a murder to uncover, she’d be the one to figure it out.
“You were the closest to her. What did she look like? What were the signs of the crime?” Mom took on a tone that reminded me of the police and murder reality shows she watched with Miguel. The only reason she’d reached out to me that night was probably because there weren’t any on the television that late.
Allowing the picture of Debra to fill my mind, I tried to remember the details. I had to remember I was doing it for Nikki. “She’d thrown up down her shirt and her lips were like a bluish purple. Her hair looked really good, though. Um, her coffee cup was a refillable one from Crank Brothers. I’m not sure what else could be considered a clue.” I had no way to collect for DNA, so if Mom asked me that, I’d probably laugh at her.
How did I maneuver her around to think of arsenic without actually telling her that Nikki suspected it?
“No gunshots or stab wounds? I’d think the only thing left would be poisoning or strangling. Did you see any marks around her neck?” Mom asked me in complete seriousness.
I blinked, trying to focus on the image in my mind. Did I recall ligatures or was it more that I wanted there not to be so that Nikki would be right? If I wanted her to be right, genuinely right, then I needed to give the best unbiased version of the facts, that I could. Sipping my tea, I thought a little bit more, but ultimately decided I didn’t know for sure – one way or the other. “No. I’m not sure. I remember only being able to see the throw up after I saw that. Like that’s all I could focus on.”
“Yeah, I’ve been there. Kids throw up is the worst.” It left a mother scarred. Mom got it. She chuckled. “Well, it sounds like she was either strangled or poisoned. I mean, she could have had a heart attack or something, but I’m not sure a symptom of one is throwing up. I’ll have to look into it. For the most part, though, I’m sure the police know what they’re doing.” Was she softly telling me to back off the investigation?
I mean, I wasn’t involved in it, but why couldn’t I? Nikki needed help and I might be able to figure some things out. I drank more tea, taking a break from the conversation. Mom might not think there was anything to indicate a murder. I had no reason not to believe it was anything but.
Clearing her throat, Mom changed the topic. “Did you fill out your journal?”
How did she know? Why was she asking that? She was asking because we’d just started a new diet but maybe she knew something… My eyes widened and I glanced around the kitchen in a panic. I had to tell the truth. I couldn’t help but think I could lie – I mean, she was my mom… how many times had I tried to get away with things in the past and she’d known the whole time. “Um, no?” Fluggernut – hmmm, new cuss word I could tell the kids, I was thirty-eight years old and trying to avoid getting caught by my mom.
I had no idea adulting would be anything like this when I was younger.
“Why? You can’t succeed, if you don’t do what you’re supposed to.” It wouldn’t be the first time Mom was exasperated by my efforts. Her mother tone came out – similar to the one I used on my own kids. In fact, when I used it on my kids, I usually recognized my mom’s voice in mine and I cringed – but didn’t stop. Hey, it’d been effective on me, maybe it would work on them.
I scrunched my nose, feeling like I was in trouble. “Well, Sidney made dinner. I couldn’t track it.” That was a lie. I didn’t want to track it since the numbers that came up were about three times my daily allotment. Sidney might only be twelve, but she was turning into one heckuva cook.
“Hmmm. Okay, snap out of it. Start right tomorrow.” Mom huffed, soundly oddly forgiving and understanding.
“Did you track?” I arched an eyebrow. She was rather snippy with me when it was the first weekend of the ne
w diet. We usually were a little more lenient with each other – part of the reason I had such a weight problem. I wasn’t really accountable.
“Ahem. Well, no, but that’s because I had Miguel’s fajitas and…” She sighed, her guilt thick in the air. “No. We’ll both start fresh tomorrow. Want to meet at Grandma’s? I’m intrigued by this whole Debra thing. Maybe Grandma knows something.”
I laughed at her fast subject change. As long as she was willing to pursue some answers, I’d let it slide that she had just harangued me for not doing the exact same thing as her. “Sure. I need to check her computer anyway. I’ll bring Sidney. Aaron is taking the boys to a church activity in the afternoon.”
“Okay, get some sleep. Remember, being tired keeps the fat on.” She almost sang the last few words like that would take the sting out of her reminder.
All my life I’d heard about all the things that contributed to keeping the fat on. There were so many things. I bet even chewing gum made you fat.
At least Debra was free from the stress of dieting.
5
Driving the Honda, I winked at Sidney as we pulled onto Grandma’s street. “Remember, just because we’re talking about dieting does not mean we think you need to diet. Do you understand? You’re perfect. We just like to talk about dieting because it gives us something to talk about. You know how Grandma cooks. If we don’t talk about dieting, then there’s nothing stopping us from having thirds.” Or in my case, fifths.
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m not worried about my body image. I know what a twelve-year-old girl is supposed to look like and it’s not like a model.” She patted my arm and grinned, the silver of her braces showing more confidence than I had at that age and with that hardware. Her mercurial eyes changed between a grayish blue and a turquoise green. My daughter amazed me at times. I used to tell Aaron that I couldn’t believe we’d made such great children.