Pecked to Death

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  Luke sighed before bending to pick her up, cradling her to his chest like a small child. “In twenty eight years, I’ve never had to carry another human being besides you. Why is that, Sadie?”

  “Just lucky, I guess,” Sadie said. She closed her eyes and rested her face on his shoulder, resisting the urge to nestle. The temporary reprieve from pretending to be stronger than she was made her feel vulnerable. She wanted to alternately push him away and cling harder. He deposited her on her bed and took a step back.

  “I’m going to retrieve your chicken suit from my car. You want it in here or in the living room?”

  It was tempting to leave it in the living room as a reminder to Gideon about how hard she was working to prove him wrong, but if anything happened to it, she was out a few hundred dollars. “In here,” she said.

  Luke left and came back, depositing the suit on her vanity so it appeared the chicken head was staring at itself in the mirror. “Do you need anything else?”

  Sadie opened her eyes and smiled. His tone was so reluctant that she had no doubt how much the words cost him, but he made the offer because Luke always did the right thing. “Could you rub my feet? They’re killing me.”

  “Rub your…” he began before realizing she was teasing him. He shook his head. “You’re chock full of evil, Sade.”

  “Isn’t it comforting to know some things never change?” she asked.

  “It would be if it were true,” Luke said. She didn’t react to his words. Her smile remained in place as she gave him a knowing look that sent shivers of annoyance through him because it made him feel guilty. But why should he feel guilty for stating the truth? Nothing was the same between them. Their friendship was irrevocably broken and, even if it weren’t, they weren’t the same people they had been when they were kids. “You should probably drink some water,” he added. He left and went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard without having to think about it. The glasses had been to the right of the sink for as long as Luke could remember. The fact that they still were was sort of comforting. He added ice to the glass and carried it back to Sadie’s bedroom.

  She was asleep, a sign of how drained she was because Sadie wasn’t one of those people who could fall asleep at will. As a kid, she had been the last to fall asleep, not wanting to miss a moment of fun or conversation. Luke had slipped into unconsciousness many nights, the sound of her chatter lulling him to sleep, at least until she jabbed him in the ribs and made him wake up to keep her company.

  He set the glass on her nightstand and backed toward the door. He was oddly reluctant to leave her. She was a grown woman, fully capable of taking care of herself, and yet she looked vulnerable with her downy curls splayed across her pillow, her lips slightly parted, her too-rosy cheek resting on her palm. Maybe it was because her curls were damp with sweat or because she was wearing his too-big t-shirt and shorts, but she looked like a little kid who had played too hard and fallen asleep. His eyes scanned the room, looking for a reminder of the woman he disliked. They landed instead on the chicken head, staring unblinkingly at him from the mirror.

  Sadie’s new job was another dent in his pre-formed opinion of her. Why was she still working the humiliating job? He wanted to pretend she was a snob who was too good to perform menial labor, but the truth was that she had never been that way. In high school she had spent her summers as the towel girl at the car wash. Even when it was over a hundred degrees, Sadie had never complained about standing in the sun, wiping down steaming cars. In fact, she had made it fun. His parents, along with every teenage male in town, had made special trips to the car wash just to see Sadie. She always had a smile, and so had her coworkers, usually because of something she said to make them laugh.

  Luke could feel the balance of his anger and resentment begin to fade as the old familiar affection began to take hold. He fought it. Sadie was temporary. Sadie didn’t belong here. Vaslilssa was his girlfriend now; he couldn’t and wouldn’t let Sadie ruin another good thing for him. He needed distance. He needed to steel himself against her. The first step in that plan was to turn and walk away, and that’s what he did. He let himself quietly out of her house and refused to give her another thought that night.

  Sadie woke in her own bed with little memory of how she got there. Her joints felt stiff and sore, her throat parched, and her hair matted to her head. It was while she was in the shower that it all came rushing back. The humiliating dive in the chicken suit, the subsequent rescue by Hal and then Luke. When had life become a series of mortifying events? If Someone was trying to teach her humility, He was definitely succeeding.

  Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, life proved her wrong again. She was halfway through her cereal when her father slapped a paper on the table. “What is this?” he demanded. Sadie saw a picture of herself in the chicken suit, face down on the pavement with the headline, “Former Police Chief’s Daughter Drunk on the Job.”

  She swallowed her bite of cereal and forced a bright tone. “There’s a chance of rain today. Good. Maybe that will help with the heat.”

  “Is that all you have to say for yourself?” her father demanded. “All I’ve ever asked is that you keep your nose clean and keep our family out of the headlines, and you can’t even do that, Sadie.”

  If that was all he had ever asked of her, then she would have been happy to comply. Instead he had asked her to choose between himself and her dying mother and they had both been living with the consequences since. “Dad, you know I wasn’t drunk,” she said. “I had a little episode with the heat. No big deal. Besides, it’s not the first time the newspaper has skewered you.” Though why they were still picking on him now that he was retired was anyone’s guess. And how had they known it was her in the suit? For that matter, who had taken the picture? Surely they didn’t have the restaurant staked out, just waiting for her to keel over. That meant someone had to have called them, but who?

  Ray, she thought. Her smarmy manager had no doubt sensed an opportunity for a quick buck, the weasel.

  “A little episode with the heat,” Gideon repeated, genuine concern in his tone now. “What do you mean? What happened?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” Sadie said. He had forfeited the right to come to her rescue years ago. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of doing it now. “A Good Samaritan came along and fixed me up and Luke brought me home.”

  The mention of Luke gave him a new target for his simmering anger. “What’s with you and Luke? You love him, you hate him, you love him, you hate him. Why can’t you just leave him be?”

  “I can’t rest until I’ve broken the heart of every man in the world, Dad. It’s my nature.” Sadie was joking, but her father’s opinion of her was so dim that he stood there trying to sift her words for any truth. Sadie turned toward the sink, fighting a wave of the old, familiar sadness. For a time when she was a kid, she had been the child of his dreams; that is to say that she had been almost a boy. But as puberty approached, Sadie started to become more interested in feminine things just as her mother started to lay her own claim. At first Sadie had resisted being the girly-girl her mother wanted her to be, but terminal illness trumps any argument. Even as a pre-teen, Sadie knew her mother’s days were limited. Of course she had to give in and do whatever made her mother happy. Why was she the only person who had understood that?

  Abby had been the only person who urged Sadie to be herself, to stand strong in her parents’ tug of war. Sadie hadn’t realized what that meant until it was too late, unfortunately.

  She sensed that her father wasn’t done spewing his anger for the day, but Sadie was finished being a target. She was too tired from the fiasco of yesterday, and from too many years of the same thing. After tucking her bowl in the dishwasher, she left the kitchen without a word, showered, dressed, and headed out for the day. The forecasters were calling for another record-breaking scorcher. Sadie thought they were probably more accurate than she had been at the job because, e
ven in her father’s air-conditioned house, the atmosphere felt muggy and close. Still, she dragged the chicken suit to her car and tucked it in the back seat. Going back would be another stake in her doomed pride, but giving up meant her father won whatever silent battle they had going. She knew he was waiting for her to throw in the towel and run away with her tail tucked between her legs; she refused to give him the satisfaction.

  Chapter 10

  The best way to simultaneously prove her father wrong and get out of Dodge was to finish her investigation into Aunt Abby’s death. Yesterday’s encounter with Hal had given her a starting place. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. Doctor Jones was not only the entire neighborhood’s family doctor, he had also been Aunt Abby’s oldest and closest friend. If anyone had signed off on her death certificate, it was him. He was also irascible. Aunt Abby had been the only one who could ever carry on a civil conversation with him. That was why Sadie wasn’t surprised when she couldn’t get in to see him. His staff seemed as surly as he was.

  After arguing unsuccessfully with the female desk clerk, she turned and scanned the waiting room for a target. Across the room, a man sat rifling a magazine. Bingo! She sat gently beside him, purposely trying not to disturb his reading. And then she started to cry delicately, head down, hands over her face.

  “Miss, are you okay?” he asked, almost on cue as if she had pre-scripted the conversation. In a way, she had; she had been having it with various men for most of her life.

  Sadie nodded and dabbed her eyes. “I’m okay, it’s just that my beloved aunt died, and the doctor signed off on her death certificate. No one will give me any information, and I really want to talk to him. I only need five minutes, but he says he doesn’t have time for me. I want closure, you know?” She glanced at him, letting him get a good look at the tears glimmering on her innocent blue eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be unloading all this on you.” She reached for a tissue and dabbed at her nose.

  “No, it’s okay. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

  She let her luminous, misty eyes settle on him as the male gene that wanted to fix the world began calculating. Get there faster, she silently urged.

  “Hey, I know! What if when it’s my turn, you sneak in ahead of me for a few minutes?”

  Sadie let her eyes widen in delighted surprise. “What a wonderful idea. Would you really do that?”

  “Five minutes?” he clarified.

  “Five minutes,” she gushed as she grasped his hand and shook it. This time her enthusiasm was real. “Thank you so much.” She beamed at him again and he blinked at her, dazed. Time to dial it down a little, she thought. There was flirtation, and then there was a line that she never crossed. For all she knew the guy might be married. She dabbed at her eyes again and turned away until his name was called and he poked her.

  “That’s me,” he whispered.

  “Thank you again,” she whispered in return, and then slipped into the open door before the nurse could protest.

  When Doctor Jones entered the room, he wasn’t happy. “Sadie, what is this about? I already told you I’m busy today.”

  “This will only take five minutes,” Sadie said, undaunted.

  “I don’t have five minutes. Go.” He opened the door and pointed. She didn’t budge. She hadn’t spent so many years with Gideon for nothing; she was unfazed by strong, angry men.

  “I’ll just keep coming back,” she said. “You might as well talk to me now and get it over with.”

  He gave up much easier than she expected, sighed, and sat down. “What do you want to talk about?”

  She sensed by his tired tone that he already knew. “Did you sign Abby’s death certificate?”

  “I did.”

  “What was the cause of death?” she asked.

  “Natural causes.”

  “How does someone perfectly healthy die of natural causes?”

  “Who said she was perfectly healthy?” he asked.

  “She never mentioned any health problems to me.”

  “Abby enjoyed her privacy,” he said.

  “That’s true, but if she had sensed the end was coming, then she would have said goodbye; she would have prepared me. Then there’s the matter of the letter. You know she insists she was murdered.”

  “How can someone predict her murder before her death? And, if she really thought she was going to be murdered, why didn’t she go to the police?” he asked.

  Those were good questions that Sadie had already considered and been unable to find answers for. “Did she mention any suspicions to you?”

  He paused before answering, biting the inside of his lip as if deep in thought. “No.”

  He’s lying. Sadie had bent the truth enough times to recognize when someone else was doing it. “You were her closest friend. Why wouldn’t she confide in you?”

  “Why indeed?” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest, a sure sign that he was becoming defensive. He was hiding something, but what?

  “Did you actually see her body when you signed off on it?” Sadie asked.

  “Of course I did.”

  “How did she appear?”

  “Perfect. There was nothing suspicious in her death.”

  “But what if someone was really good at hiding murder?” Sadie said.

  Doctor Jones threw up his hands in frustration. “I was with her when she went, Sadie. I’ve been a doctor almost twice as long as you’ve been alive, and unless you think I’m ready for Shady Acres, then you need to stop questioning my judgment.”

  “What’s Shady Acres?” Sadie asked as the reference temporarily distracted her from the importance of his statement. She wondered if that had been his agenda.

  He sighed and sat back, looking defeated. “Shady Acres is a nursing home built a couple of years ago. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it; it’s been big news around here lately.”

  “I haven’t kept up much. Now that I think about it, though, I guess Abby did mention it. She wasn’t a fan.”

  “She hated those places,” he said. He sounded sad, but his sadness worked to remind her of what else he had said.

  “Wait, did you say you were with Abby when she died?”

  “Yes. We knew the end was coming, and she wanted me there. It was very peaceful, if that’s any consolation.”

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Sadie said.

  “A lot of things Abby said or did didn’t make sense,” the doctor said. “Now I need to get back to work and your five minutes are up.”

  “Can I ask one more question?”

  “What is it, Sadie?” the doctor said. He stood and shuffled toward the door again.

  “Why didn’t you and Abby ever give in and get married?” The question was a whim, a fulfillment of all that Sadie had suspected was between the two longtime friends.

  “That’s a question for Abby,” he said.

  “Well, I can’t exactly ask her now, can I?”

  He sighed. “No, I suppose not. By now I think you’re old enough to understand that sometimes feelings don’t trump everything else like stubbornness, pride, anger, unforgiveness, and myriad other things. Sometimes love doesn’t conquer all.”

  Sadie had seen too much of that in her own life to disagree with him. “I guess so,” she said. “Thank you for your time.” He nodded as she eased through the door, and then he closed it firmly behind her. Now what? She had no idea where to go next. Nothing added up, and she felt like she was on a wild goose chase.

  First things first, she had to work. The newspaper article drew notoriety so that by the time Sadie grabbed her sign and took her place, no less than a half dozen cars were lined up to hear her cluck. She was long past the point of embarrassment. Instead she tried to focus on the extra money she was earning. By the end of her shift, she had more than twenty cluck tips. With the extra, she was able to make her car payment for the month. On the way home, she stopped at the bank and deposited the money. Four more day
s, and she would have enough for her insurance, three if the cluck tips kept up.

  By the end of the day, she was hot and sweaty, but not as bad as the day before. She had taken off the head to drink today, and left it off for a while. For some reason, people tipped better if she clucked without the head. Gideon’s car was in the drive when she pulled in. She sat in the car, tight-fisting the steering wheel. She didn’t want to deal with her father right now. Her glance landed on Aunt Abby’s house. Movement inside told her Luke was there. Her gaze shifted between her house and Aunt Abby’s. Which was the lesser of two evils? Finally, she gathered her chicken head and walked next door.

  She knocked, but he didn’t hear her over blaring music coming from the radio. He was listening to rock from the seventies, and she smiled as she let herself inside. Luke was standing on a ladder fiddling with a light fixture. “I had forgotten you were a Credence fan,” she said.