James looked down at his hand and then put the pile of papers onto his desk. Smoothing the wrinkled edges with his fingers he said, “Actually, I was so busy this afternoon I kind of forgot to be hungry. Of course, I’ve had about five diet sodas and none of them were decaffeinated, so I’m a little jittery.”
Lucy sat in one of the office’s uncomfortable wooden chairs. “This chair reminds me of school,” she said, thinking glumly of Mrs. Waxman. “How did the research go? Are we going to survive this, or will we be eating carrot sticks and Swiss cheese for the rest of our lives?”
“Actually, it’s not that bland. There are a lot of foods on our list that are pretty good. Of course, it helps if you like any vegetable known to man, which I don’t.”
Lucy shrugged. “I like potatoes.”
“Yeah, who doesn’t? Fried; scalloped; baked with cheese, chili, and sour cream; hash browns with ketchup; tater tots—”
“Stop! You’re killing me!” Lucy begged. “All I had for lunch was a Caesar salad with grilled chicken and I’m starving!”
“I know. Right now, I could eat a miniature pony. I had tuna salad without the bread. Man, I already miss not crunching on something.” James consulted his food sheet and smiled widely. “Hey! At least what you had for lunch was good!” He paused. “Did you eat the croutons?”
“Yes,” Lucy admitted sheepishly. “I wasn’t supposed to though, was I?”
“No, but you didn’t know that.” He handed her a stapled packet of menu ideas. She flipped through some of the meals and groaned. “There are so many fish dishes on here. I’m not a big seafood fan.”
“That’s okay,” James said, coming to sit down next to her. “You can make the same recipes using chicken.”
“You did all this today? That is wonderful, James. Thank you.” Lucy looked into his eyes and he held her look for a long moment. Feeling that something intimate had suddenly passed between them, they both dropped their embarrassed gazes to their liberal laps and tried to think of something else to talk about.
They were saved from any further awkwardness by the appearance of Lindy and Bennett. As they came into the office, chattering away about the coolness in the air and what they had eaten for lunch, James pulled two of the plastic chairs from the kitchen area into his office. When Gillian arrived a few minutes later, James gallantly offered his own chair. Everyone seemed genuinely impressed with his work.
“Why, James!” Lindy gushed. “You’ve made this so organized. We won’t have any excuses now, except that we all have to start cooking.”
“Great,” Gillian sighed dramatically, curling a strand of orange hair around her finger. “That’s going to take up a lot of my reflection time. Still,” she brightened, “I’m really getting a strong feeling like there’s a good change ahead for all of us.”
Bennett cleared his throat. “I see some menus here, but what do we eat for a snack? A diet including five smaller meals is more successful than three large ones.”
James was so busy basking in the joy of having four friends gathered around his little desk that he almost didn’t hear Bennett. When the words finally sank in he leapt up and grabbed a sheaf of paper from his printer tray. “I almost forgot. Here’s a list of acceptable snacks.”
The Flab Five’s “Good” Carb Snack List
Celery sticks with Swiss cheese
½ cup low-fat cottage cheese
(add chopped tomatoes or cucumbers if you want)
Cucumber slices with feta cheese or sugar-free ranch dressing
4 ounces nonfat yogurt
Hard-boiled egg
Beef jerky
Hummus (no pita! Use a vegetable to dip instead)
Low-fat ham or turkey slice wrapped up with mozzarella
Mozzarella string cheese (2)
Two pieces Canadian bacon
Granny Smith apple wedges with 1 Tbsp natural or light peanut butter
Dry-roasted peanuts (about 25)
Almonds (¼ cup)
Pistachios (about 30)
Fat-free, sugar-free pudding
Sugar-free Jell-O (1 cup)
Sugar-free popsicles
Sugar-free gum
Sugar-free hard candy
Diet soda
Coffee with fat-free half and half
Artificial sweeteners
“What about all those low-carb bars I’ve seen at the grocery store?” Lindy asked. “They look just like candy bars.”
“You’d have to check the calories,” James replied. “Any bar with more than 150 calories isn’t going to help us. Plus, they’re pretty expensive.”
“Where, in Buddha’s name, is all the fruit?” Gillian demanded, shaking her list.
“I think we’re supposed to go light on fruit until we lose some weight. This is kind of our put-it-in-high-gear snack list. We can add more foods once we’ve lost some weight.”
“I don’t think sugar-free gum is going to get me through an afternoon of art class with twenty-five hormonally imbalanced seniors,” Lindy moaned.
“And not too many of these are good for eating in my truck.” Bennett frowned. “Did you know that there are thirty-two thousand motor vehicle accidents a year caused by drivers distracted by either talking on their cell phones, reading, putting on makeup, eating, or drinking? That’s why I need something that goes in nice and easy.” Bennett opened his mouth in a wide “O.”
“Look, everyone.” Lucy stood and put her hands on her formidable hips. “No one said this was going to be easy.”
James reddened, feeling that Lucy was defending him and not just their diet plan.
“You’re right,” Lindy agreed. “And I do appreciate your work, James. After yesterday, I’ve just felt so distracted. It’s been hard to concentrate on a diet.” She turned her round face to Lucy. “Is there any word on what happened to Brinkley?”
Lucy relaxed and sat back down in her chair. “We had to wait for the medical examiner to come over from Rockingham County. Sheriff Huckabee went on home and left Keith, that’s Deputy Donovan, and Deputy Truett to stay with the body and wait. They interviewed Megan and Amelia, too. I was there for everything.” Lucy sounded proud. “I know I was only taking notes, but they’ve never let me go to a scene like that before.”
Gillian shuddered dramatically. “The poor Flowers women! I should bring them some homemade chamomile tea. It’s very soothing, you know. How are they holding up?”
“Fine, I guess.” Lucy hesitated. “Though there’s this one thing about Amelia that I keep turning over in my head. Something that just doesn’t sit right.”
“Like what?” Lindy asked, leaning forward in her chair.
“When Keith was questioning Megan, I saw Amelia sneak back to the front to look at Brinkley’s cell phone. Doesn’t that seem odd?”
“Where was the other deputy? Wasn’t he supposed to be guarding the body?” Gillian seemed shocked. “How could a person lose focus at such a significant time?”
“Um, I think he couldn’t resist the temptation of one of those mummy cookies Megan makes. I saw him squirrel a broken one out of the showcase. Guess he went outside to eat it.” Lucy smirked. “Not that I could blame him. I could eat a few dozen of those right now.”
The others murmured in agreement, fantasizing about the monster cookies.
“Where were you all this time?” James asked quickly, fearing that he might start drooling. “Did you see . . . uh . . . us?”
“Just your backsides as you hustled off to the parking lot,” Lucy giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I tore down there faster than a speeding bullet so I can hardly blame anyone else for being curious.” She resumed her narrative. “Anyway, I was taking notes while Keith interviewed Megan. Both of them were really upset and Amelia clung to Megan like a baby chimpanzee, but after a few minutes, she excused herself to use the restroom. Now, we were interviewing Megan in back, near the ovens. There are a few stools there and it was toasty and comfortable back there. Amelia did head for the
bathroom, but then she snuck up front.”
“How could you see that if you were in the back?” Gillian asked dubiously. “Do you have the gift of second sight?” She grew excited, tugging on her violet overshirt. “I’ve read about people who can see things happening in another room, they—”
“Sorry to let you down, Gillian, but I could see her reflection in the oven doors. Once I noticed her heading to the front, I kind of sashayed sideways until I could see what she was up to out of the corner of my eye. I saw her pick up the cell phone, but then she turned her back to me and I couldn’t see anything else. Keith was being his usual charming self with Megan, so she was too distraught to notice anything and it all happened in under a minute.”
Bennett’s eyes shone with interest. “How did Amelia seem when she came back?”
Lucy grew thoughtful. “She was only gone for a few seconds, but when she turned to face me again, I could tell a weight had dropped off her shoulders. Kind of like when a huge pile of snow goes sliding off a rooftop. ’Course she was still upset when she looked down at that pool of blood again, but who wouldn’t be? Lord knows I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“The human body holds about five liters,” Bennett casually informed them. He pointed at a plastic liter bottle of Diet Coke sitting on the break room’s countertop. “That’s five of those, folks.”
“That’s exactly what was bothering the ME,” Lucy also gestured toward the bottle. “For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what had caused so much bleeding.”
“So, I take it neither Megan nor Amelia bludgeoned him to death with a rolling pin,” Lindy stated, sounding disappointed. The others regarded her curiously. “Well, let’s face it, the guy was a total jerk.”
“Certainly to women,” James added, and all eyes turned toward him. He filled them in on the belittling remarks Brinkley had made in reference to Whitney, the sweet waitress at Dolly’s Diner.
“She’s such a good girl, too!” Lindy exclaimed. “A wonderful art student and a hard worker. Her daddy had to quit his job last year ’cause of health issues and so Whitney stopped going to college full time. She started taking shifts at Dolly’s in order to help out with household expenses. I always chat with her when I’m there. How many kids these days would be so selfless?”
“None that I’ve seen,” Gillian harrumphed. “That’s why I work with animals. They’re as loving and as spiritual and as selfless as you can get.”
“I don’t know if you could call Lucy’s three hounds of terror loving or spiritual,” Bennett mumbled, and then his stomach grumbled so loudly that everyone turned to look at him. “No donut holes today,” Bennett said, looking embarrassed. “See? My gizzard is staging a revolt.”
Everyone laughed in sympathy. Their own stomachs were complaining about not receiving their daily doses of fatty carbohydrates or tasty sugars as well.
“So there’s no indication of what caused Brinkley’s death?” James asked Lucy once the room had grown quiet again. She shook her head with an air of regret. “Besides one powerful nosebleed, it’s a mystery. The ME did send a blood sample away to the lab in Charlottesville, but it could take a week or even longer for them to respond. They have to go with their priority cases first and I doubt Brinkley Myers will qualify as a priority.”
“What does qualify?” Lindy asked. “This case seems pretty unusual to me.”
Lucy shrugged. “I guess a suspicious death or the death of someone famous. We’ve never had something like this happen since I’ve been working at the Sheriff’s Department so I’m not so sure. Who knows? Maybe the lab won’t be busy and we’ll know before I see y’all at my house on Sunday.”
Lindy turned to James and raised her brows playfully. “Okay, Mr. Drill Sergeant Henry, what are we having for dinner on Sunday?”
Lucy looked at him expectantly. Her gaze made his heart beat faster as he shuffled through the menu packet he had created. The light from the fluorescents stained her blue eyes a deep indigo. “Ah, let’s see . . . page 6. It’s all there, including what every person needs to bring. I wasn’t trying to be bossy, I was just trying to make things easier on everyone.” His shoulders slumped. “We can divvy out all of the menu items out on Sunday for our next meeting. I had found this website on running a supper club so . . .” He trailed off.
“Oh, James,” Lindy was instantly apologetic. “I was just teasing you! You have done a terrific job and, speaking for all of us, I’m glad we were able to recruit you. We’d still be trying to decide on a diet plan if it weren’t for you. Now, since I don’t have a single one of those snack items at home, I’m off to the grocery store.”
“Man cannot live on celery . . . at all,” Bennett stated seriously. “I’m going to pick up some cheese and a whole mess of peanuts.”
“Me too,” echoed the others as they shuffled out of the office, wishing James a good night and warmly thanking him again for the menu packets.
James was so unused to praise that he just stood behind his desk, soaking up the moment. The library was quiet, as most of the high school students had retrieved the information they needed to complete their projects and had gone home. Mrs. Waxman was busy flipping through the pages of Time magazine as James walked past her with a cheerful wave.
“Have a good night, James,” she whispered and waved in return.
Outside, darkness had fallen among the pine trees, dragging with it a multitude of glittering stars. “I believe I will have a good night,” James answered. As he headed to his car, he walked a little taller, like a man with a purpose.
James was repairing a loose page from a hardback copy of The Old Man and the Sea. He lovingly applied a thin line of glue along the inside gutter and then carefully replaced the page. Closing the book, he wrapped it with a rubber band and then set a brick covered in muslin on top so that the weight could help set the glued page. Scott had given him several lessons in book repair and now sat beside him using fine-grade sandpaper to rub away ground dirt smudges from the page corners of a copy of Tender is the Night.
“There you are, Mr. Hemingway,” James handed Scott a newly covered copy of The Sun Also Rises to be placed on the reshelving cart.
“Think you could ever run with the bulls, Professor Henry?” Scott asked, pushing his heavy glasses farther up on his nose.
“Not unless they counted me as one of the bulls,” James replied grumpily. It was only Thursday and he felt as though he couldn’t survive another second without having a bag of cheese puffs or a slice of pepperoni pizza. He was irritable and hungry and felt completely devoid of energy.
“The F. Scott Fitzgerald books must be in the best shape out of our entire collection,” James said, meaning to be critical, but Scott beamed as if he had just received a compliment.
“We try,” he answered modestly, glancing across the room at his twin brother as he sat at the reference desk. “They see so much wear because they’re on the reading list at Blue Ridge High. Imagine, a Fitzgerald classic every year! What a great school that must be.”
James ignored him, wishing a patron would arrive with a challenging question so that he might be distracted from his powerful cravings. By eleven thirty, the stillness of the library began grating on him. He strolled restlessly to the lobby, telling himself that the books for sale needed to be straightened. Of course it just so happened that he had a perfectly unwrinkled dollar bill inside his wallet that would slide effortlessly into the snack machine’s slot in exchange for some crunchy, orange heaven. Checking over his shoulder to make sure that the twins were occupied, James fed the money into the machine and desperately punched the E6 buttons until the splendid thumping sound announced the arrival of a precious parcel of cheese puffs.
“It’s just a snack-size bag,” James muttered aloud defensively to the vacant lobby. Slipping outside, he sat down on the front steps and, heedless of the cold, devoured the bag in under a minute. He felt an incredible sense of elation from having granted himself his favorite treat.
He crunched blissfully, examining the blazing colors on the maple and oak trees dotting the library parking lot. The contents of the bag disappeared all too soon. James stared longingly at the bottom of the bag and then wadded up the evidence, stuffed it in the lobby trash can, and was just about to suck the orange dust from his fingertips when Francis came outside.
Without thinking, James frantically wiped his hands on the back of his pants as Francis leaned on the stair railing and blinked in the face of daylight like a bat.
“Nice day, huh?” Francis asked, his breath hanging in the air like wet lace.
James agreed, rubbing off more orange dust stuck between his thumb and index fingers.
“Do you remember the Halloween Carnival from when you lived here?” Francis asked nervously.
“Sure,” James replied. “All the local businesses can enter a float for a chance to win a cash prize.”
Francis shuffled his feet. “Mrs. Kramer never let us build one. She said we didn’t have funds for it in the budget, even though Scott and I came up with a design that would only cost three hundred dollars to build.”
James smiled. “So you two want to enter a float in this year’s parade?”
“Yes, Professor, we sure do.”
“Let me review the budget for this month, but I’m sure we can come up with a few hundred dollars. I think it would be great to have the library represented.”
“We have a drawing.” Francis held out a rolled piece of paper.
James examined the drawing with a smile. “This is great. Are you certain that you two can build this on your own?”
Francis looked sheepish. “We started it last year, hoping we could change Mrs. Kramer’s mind. We just need to add on some final touches, like special effects. Thanks, Professor! I can’t wait to tell Scott!” Francis bounded up the steps and went inside. A few seconds later, James followed.
At lunch, he stared at his chef’s salad, suddenly feeling guilty about cheating.
“You’re really sticking to it, Professor,” Francis said as he came into the kitchen. He folded his long, lanky form into the chair across from James and began to eat one of his three peanut butter and banana sandwiches while reading the latest paperback release by Piers Anthony. James was still unenthusiastically picking at his salad when Scott arrived and switched places with Francis, who had consumed his entire meal within five or six minutes. Scott ate two salami and cheese sandwiches, a bag of pretzel twists, and a jelly donut while speed-reading the October issue of Popular Mechanics.
Carbs & Cadavers Page 6