by Kodi Heart
We froze as we stared his direction. Sitting up to see better, Mom and I couldn’t stop watching him. Even in silence, in case we missed something. He wasn’t moving. His head had leaned forward, his forehead resting on the top curve of the steering wheel.
Keeping my voice down, as if he could hear me, I whispered, “Do you need to go check him?”
“Me?” Mom almost shrieked, reaching over and pushing my arm. “Why me?”
My jaw slackened and I turned my head slowly to glance at her and then back to watch Norris. “You said it’s on your bucket list to find a dead body. What if this is the only chance you get?”
She narrowed her eyes at me and then looked back toward the car in silence. Was that a yes or a no?
The minutes ticked past and I couldn’t help counting the soft ticking of my mom’s two-tone gold wrist watch as each second passed. Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty. Another minute passed.
How many had we sat there, watching, waiting? Did we get out and approach his car to make sure he was okay? How long was too long to sit in your car in the middle of an April day before anyone called the cops? I focused my hearing, listening for any sirens to come after us. Sounds of my mom’s breathing mixed with mine and I swear I heard a bird fly off.
“How long have we been sitting here?” I flicked a glance toward my mom, careful not to move too much in case we drew more attention to us than we needed. Norris might be sitting in his car for an indeterminate amount of time, but he was in his driveway. We watched him in our car for the same amount of time, but from in front of someone else’s house with Idaho plates. I couldn’t help seeing the oddity of the situation.
“Twenty-two minutes. How long are we going to sit here?” Mom had a valid question, one that had gone through my mind over and over in time with her ticking second hand.
Just as I was about to turn the car back on, Norris’s door opened.
He climbed from the car, his face red and splotchy. He wiped at his cheeks with the backs of his hands and stumbled toward the front door, unseeing, uncaring for anything that could be going on around him. He opened his front door and disappeared inside.
I leaned against my seat, and sighed. “This was a waste of time. He was anything but calm. He lost it in his car.”
“Yeah, it looks like he held it together as long as he could.” Mom’s voice had a smidgeon of told-you-so in the tone. She shifted on her seat. “I need to get home. Miguel made dinner plans and we need to run downtown first.” Ew, a run downtown. Mom must love torture.
Plus, I understood. It sucked being at a dead end and that’s exactly where we were.
I had nothing to tell Nikki and nothing to report to Grandma. Which was worse? I restarted the car and shifted into first. What was I going to do next?
14
Third weekend of the month was exhausting and usually discouraging. This was when everyone started giving up and sliding back into their regular eating patterns. Who was I kidding, though? I’d been eating even more than usual and not tracking a thing.
I would fall into the same cycle though. Our guilt grew stronger and we took it out on others as we came together to try to encourage each other. It was hard to encourage anyone when you yourself were up on the scale and you couldn’t stay away from the flipping raspberry-filled powdered donuts.
“This is the worst diet yet. I hate tracking my calories. I only get sixteen-hundred. Do you know how much food I don’t get to have with that few calories?” Angie pushed her light brown hair with gold highlights behind her shoulder. She was dressed slutty and as a mom she should know better.
Ugh, even I was cranky. I honestly didn’t care how Angie dressed. I was jealous that she could even pull the clothing off. Her shape only irritated me more. I had six kids under nine years and she’d had two over nine years apart. She had more time to work off weight.
Mine didn’t feel like it was ever going to come off.
“I think there’s too much freedom with tracking. You could eat an eight hundred calorie donut and then a ton of vegetables and you still had the donut! There’s too much freedom. We need more restrictions. At least I do.” Candy shrugged, tapping a red felt pen lid against her front teeth. She moved forward in the weighing line.
We were all gathered together at the beginning of the meeting again. Mom wasn’t there yet, but she’d texted me that she was minutes away. She’d probably be late for the weigh-in and just grab a seat and then weigh after.
I hated weighing. The felt pens set up along the side of the counter had their own jars. Red pens were used for weight gain. Green pens were for any losses to record and then black was to make any notes, or to just use. All of the red pens were gone. The green just sat there, listlessly, like they hated the third week, too.
Mom ducked through the doors as I stepped onto the scale. She grabbed a seat and put her jacket on the one beside her to save me a spot.
I ignored Jessie’s sympathetic smile as I climbed off the atrocious machine. I hated it. More than anything. I hated it. Maybe not as much as I hated her and her pity. I always wondered what they said about me behind my back. Like, did they say poor Bon and her fat little thighs? Or did they laugh when I was gone, giggling over the things I’d eaten? Who knew. They were my family, but I knew what trouble they got into behind other’s backs. I wasn’t dumb.
There had to be more to life than stressing out over my weight. I had to get rid of the negative feelings I had around my body image. Unfortunately, I had a feeling the only way to get rid of that feeling was to get away from family. That wasn’t an option.
Claiming the seat by Mom, I rolled my eyes. “I want to burn that scale.” Or slam it into a million pieces with Aaron’s sledgehammer. I could even let Ryder and David have a go at it with some mallets. All kinds of ideas on ways to maim the scale ran through my mind as I stared into space.
“Yeah, I understand.” Mom nodded her head toward Grandma and Tanya who seemed engaged in some kind of a heated exchange that was only getting louder. “Listen to this.”
I turned my head, focusing my attention to take in the situation at hand. Scanning the room, I shook my head. Everyone seemed to be either ignoring the argument or hanging on every word. I stopped and narrowed my eyes. I didn’t blame any of them for focusing on Grandma and Tanya’s scene. But I couldn’t focus on the conversation as Don stared back at me.
Don jerked his chin upwards and held my gaze. I had a twelve-year-old. I won staring contests like my life depended on it.
He spoke loud enough Mom and I could hear him, but not so loud to interrupt the conversation between Grandma and Tanya. “I heard Norris is in the hospital. They suspect poisoning.” He arched an eyebrow like he thought I cared what he was saying. The frustrating thing was, I did. Why was Don telling me that? He still hadn’t completely convinced me that he was innocent. How did he know we suspected poisoning? The cops hadn’t given any indication that poisoning was on the table.
I glanced at Mom and we both nodded, something Don seemed to take note of. He studied us and then turned his gaze toward the mess in the front of the room.
“Maybe that’s why Kiki hasn’t come back. You’re too controlling and invasive.” Tanya’s shrill words ripped through the group, many of which were related to both Kiki and Grandma. She’d gone too far and I think she knew it, but Tanya wouldn’t back down to save her life – no matter what.
I straightened in my seat, my focus jumping from Don and the issues around him to Grandma and standing up in her defense. No matter how much someone in our family irritated us or got on our nerves (not that Grandma did), we stood by each other. We could go years without talking, but as soon as someone was in need, BAM, we were there for them. That’s how family worked – especially the Fleming family.
But Mom beat me to it. She stood, raising her hand in a warning motion. “Look, say what you want, but we don’t even know if Kiki is alive. Her leaving wasn’t Mom’s fault, the same as i
t wasn’t mine, or her children’s, or anyone else’s. She left of her volition. There’s nothing we could do about it.” She spoke firmly and with a modicum of regret. Did she want to know how Kiki was?
I knew my aunt wasn’t dead. The postcard was enough evidence on that front to prove that, if nothing else, Aunt Kiki was alive and still very much aware of her family and their whereabouts.
Should I mention the postcard? I had no idea what the right thing to do was. I couldn’t tell everyone about the card without telling a few specific someone’s first. Or maybe I just didn’t need to tell anyone at all.
I lowered my gaze from the confrontation, turning to glance to the side, and caught Don staring at me, again, a slimy smile on his thin lips. He stood and slid out the door, pausing only to turn back and toss me another knowing smile.
He knew something, but what? And what did it have to do with me? I ignored the rest of the conversation that broke out between cousins, sisters, and more. Standing, I jumped outside, intent on following Don.
I came up short as Don stood from lounging against a dirty white Pontiac when I got outside.
Rather than be intimidated, I folded my arms and stood with my legs shoulder-width apart. I learned bravado from plenty of cousins and rough talking aunts and uncles. Plus, let’s be honest. I knew how to fight. I’d been taught by the best. “What’s your game?”
Don huffed, pressing his lips together before speaking. “No game. I have my receipt to prove I was out of town.” He brandished a slip of paper from his pocket, handing it over with a smirk. “See?”
I slowly took the paper and tried to hide the hitch in my breath at the image of the logo on the receipt. It matched the circle on the post card from my aunt. Port Orford, Oregon. He’d stayed there for two nights, Saturday and Sunday. Had he been there at the same time as my aunt? Did he know her? It was the same stationary as Kiki’s card and if I remembered right, the date stamp on the card was during the same time as his stay.
What about my uncle? Kiki was still married to him. I didn’t understand why she would do that. I held the receipt out, careful not to touch him. “Why were you there?”
Don shrugged. “Business. None of yours.” He tucked the receipt inside his jacket pocket. His alibi checked out, but he wasn’t being completely honest.
I stepped closer, ignoring the sour smell coming from his clothes. I spoke with a low voice, the same one I used on my children when they were errant. “You’re like my third child, except he’s smarter. You’re hiding something and you don’t think I’ll find out. But let’s be clear. I can sniff out a rat in no time. I always find the truth.” I held his gaze for a drawn-out length of time and then stepped back. Folding my arms over my chest, I stared at him, waiting for him to leave.
He didn’t scuttle away in fear like I wanted, but he’d dropped a few notches of his attitude. He might not be Debra’s killer, but he was up to something and it had to do with Kiki. What he was up to, I wasn’t sure. Why hadn’t I asked about Norris? That seemed important to the moment, but I couldn’t get my focus off my aunt.
How did he even know Kiki? If he knew Kiki, did he somehow know Nikki? If he did, had she warned him about the poisoning?
I had to deal with Debra’s death first, then maybe I could figure out what he had to do with my aunt. Don turned, sauntering off like he had all day. I turned back inside to face the Fleming drama inside. Rearing for a confrontation with my adrenaline up and my hackles raised, I stepped inside the large conference area and stared around.
Tanya thrust her finger into Grandma’s face and judging by Grandma’s expression, she was about to break off Tanya’s digit. I looked around at various members of my family yelling and waving their hands like they might be having seizures. What could I do to reset the meeting as well as get me help with the mystery?
Angie and Penny were yelling about something I couldn’t make out. Mom and Aunt Holly sat in the chair with their arms folded over their waists, glaring at each other while tossing rude names back and forth.
Nikki’s brother, Jim had been married before to a woman named Jill Stump. I couldn’t believe it, but she’d shown up that day – first day in a long time. At least, Nikki had the sense to stay away… again.
Jill ran in place in the back of the room, in her normal spot by the refreshments table. She literally jogged in place, pumping hand weights in her arms with a bright blue sweatband holding up the perky part of her brown ponytail. Her face was red and her fit watch on her wrist beeped in alarm.
Moving to stand beside her, I blinked in alarm. She was sweating and upset and tears streamed down her face, but still she kept running in place.
“Jill, are you okay? What’s wrong?” I leaned closer to her, dodging the flying hand weights. They were green 3 pounders. I recognized them from my own dusty collection of weights at home.
Pausing in her movements, Jill shook her head, leaning into my embrace. “Jim and I might be divorced, but I loved Kiki. I still do.” She quietly sobbed against my shoulder, tears soaking into my shirt.
I took a deep breath. Enough was enough.
I turned, still holding Jill’s solid form in my arms. Taking in the group, I raised my voice. “Enough. Does anyone even understand what exactly is going on right now?”
Only some of the people stopped talking to look at me. I stepped from Jill and braced my hands on the back of the seat nearest me. I broke in Mom-voice. “Hey, shut up.” The group fell silent and Grandma and Tanya turned to stare my way in surprise. I continued, past the point of concern and well into frustrated territory. “You’re all fighting over a woman who isn’t coming back. Not yet anyway. Yet, we have a friend who just recently died and we’re trying to figure out if she was killed or not. I think we need to focus more on that and less on what we can do about a woman who doesn’t want to be here.”
The group collectively hushed, like a mute button had been pressed. Some looked directly at me and others glanced anywhere but my direction – like at their feet or the journals in their hands.
I wasn’t wrong and they knew it. I knew it.
After a painfully long moment of silence, Candy raised her hand like we were in class and glanced around while asking, “I thought her death was ruled an accident?” Murmurs around the room between the people who had been fighting moments ago almost made me smile, except for the topic.
The women waited for my answer, looking to me as if I knew for sure – one way or the other. I bit my lip. “Okay, so, ahem. Yeah, we aren’t sure. They aren’t sure. That’s the problem. Something happened to Debra – she’s one of our own – and we’re not entirely sure what.” That didn’t seem to have the impact I was hoping for as skepticism seemed to riddle across the room. I straightened from leaning on the chair. “I think what’s important to note is it could have happened to any of us.”
Mutterings stopped as everyone looked around at each other. Tanya lifted her finger toward me. “What are you saying, Bonnie? Are you saying it was one of us?” She narrowed her dark brown eyes and studied each member in the room, stopping on me.
“Well, for a while there, we thought it might be someone in this room, but the people who had the opportunity had alibis. We aren’t sure just exactly what happened.” Did I tell them more? I had to, but I had to do it without mentioning Nikki. “I heard someone say it could be chronic arsenic poisoning.” There I said it. There was no going back now.
I raised my left pinky and chewed on the cuticle. I was going to get in so much trouble.
Angie raised her hand, nodding. “I heard the same thing. That’s why I asked at Easter if we thought it could be Crank Brothers Coffee. I mean, she drank that stuff every day. How do we know for sure it wasn’t them?”
“She didn’t go to the same barista every day. She didn’t even go to the same coffee stand. Most of the time she drank coffee from home.” Holly leaned forward in her seat. “What about the husband? He was weird at the funeral.”
“We thought it w
as him, too. But did anyone just hear Don? Sounds like Norris is in the hospital with poisoning as well.” Mom supported the theory? How odd since I’d felt like she was just going along with the investigating to prove Nikki wrong. Maybe I was wrong.
I wouldn’t be surprised. The entire thing was humbling. I had no idea what was going on and I had a feeling none of us did.
“Hmm. Is it too far-fetched to think he might have poisoned himself to take the suspicions off him?” Jessie finally had a smart thing to add. Grandma glanced at her approvingly, oddly silent herself.
I hated negating Jessie’s contribution. “I don’t think it’s far-fetched so much as out there? I don’t think he did it. I mean, he seemed too calm at the funeral so Mom and I followed him home.” Gasps of amazement brought me up. I held my hand at chest level in the universal sign of stop. “Not a big deal. We didn’t go inside or anything.” I glanced at Mom and tried not to smile. “He got out of his car and he’d obviously been crying – to the point he couldn’t walk straight as he went inside. I think he was seriously more upset than he let on.”
Someone made the awwwing sound and others nodded at each other.
“So, what do we do?” Penny raised her hand, her curls tamed into one big ponytail at the back of her round head.
“We let Bonnie and Connie continue looking into it and if you have any information, share it with them.” Grandma stood and made sure her voice reached around the room. “If they come up with anything, they’ll let us know. But let me tell you, that if anyone in this room is the killer, I’m going to be sorely disappointed.” She pierced the group with her steely stare.
I’m glad I wasn’t the killer. I’d rather deal with prison than Grandma’s disappointment. Everyone else in the room seemed to agree as they murmured their innocence.
