Slumbered to Death

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  “Yes, but I’m twice as funny as I think you are,” she said. “Let me ask you a question: You and your girlfriend are the same height. Are you this protective of her?”

  Did he feel protective toward Vaslilssa? In a fight, Sadie would probably do much better than Vaslilssa. She was scrappy, had good street sense, and was willing to fight dirty. Vaslilssa on the other hand would probably stand still and take a beating. Why, then, did Sadie seem more vulnerable? Why was he so worried about her? Why did the thought of anything happening to her make his insides sick with anxiety? “Vaslilssa is Russian,” he said. “She’s used to taking care of herself.”

  “Ah, right. I forgot that Russian babies come out boxing and their women never get attacked. It’s almost like Rocky IV taught me nothing.”

  “Men are stupid,” Luke declared. “How we can focus on the outside package without caring what comes out of the mouth is a mystery.”

  “It really is,” Sadie agreed. “Although it’s highly probable that I don’t say these things to men I want to date.”

  “Lucky me,” he said and actually meant it. He would rather have the real Sadie than a silver-tongued impostor.

  Luke stood nervously by while Sadie made her deposit at the bank. “We did it, Mugsy,” she said when she received her deposit statement. He ignored her along with the strange look the teller gave them.

  Abby was already at Mr. Mason’s when they arrived. They sat on the porch chewing the fat, as he liked to say.

  “Well, it’s the whole gang,” Mr. Mason said as Luke and Sadie trundled from the car. He looked pleased as punch, another expression they had gleaned from him.

  “Good morning, Mr. Mason,” Sadie called as she bestowed an enthusiastic wave. “How are you today?”

  “I’d be much better if those rascals would stop taking my pills. Jell-O’s on the table so help yourselves.”

  Sadie led Luke inside where a pile of watery Jell-O sat on the table. He stared at it with a grimace while she got down on her hands and knees and rifled through the sofa cushions.

  “His favorite hiding place,” she explained. There were no pills between the cushions, but when she lifted the bottom flap of the couch, she struck gold. She set the pills on the table and divvied up the Jell-O.

  “Can’t we just come to visit? Why do we have to go through the charade of finding the pills? And why do we have to eat this stuff?”

  “Because Mr. Mason has pride. He doesn’t want to beg us to spend time with him, and he doesn’t want to send us away empty-handed.”

  Luke poked at the runny Jell-O. “This doesn’t look safe to eat.”

  “Cheer up; it has too many chemical preservatives to ever go bad. I would be more concerned about the massive amount of food coloring. Did you ever wonder what color our insides are after eating this?”

  “I will now,” he said.

  They carried their Jell-O outside and ate on the porch. After about an hour, Mr. Mason began to list. They thanked him for the Jell-O and left. When they arrived home, Hal was waiting on the front porch.

  Sadie erupted from the car with too much enthusiasm, and Luke had to tamp down his jealousy. They were just friends; they had both told him repeatedly. And even if they weren’t, why should he care? He had a girlfriend. Hal and Sadie were single. If they wanted to date, then so be it.

  “Hal, how did you get the night off?” Sadie asked. “I thought you were pulling an all-nighter at the hospital.”

  “I took out an appendix and left my watch in the guy. It’s what I do whenever I want a night off. Or I traded with someone. One of those things is true.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” Sadie hugged his neck. “I’m going to cook something really special. I got paid today, so I might actually put meat in the meatloaf.”

  “Aw, Sadie, don’t cook for me, sweets. Especially not mashed potatoes and those glazed carrots I love.” He hugged her waist.

  “You’ve got it,” Sadie said.

  Luke looked away. Hal had been his best friend since his freshman year of college. Why now did he want to kick him in the ribs?

  “Is Vaslilssa still away?” Hal asked.

  “She’s in Russia for a couple more days,” Luke said.

  “Then you’re free to hang with us tonight. The three musketeers together again. Excellent.”

  “Abby’s here,” Luke said.

  “The fearsome foursome is what I meant to say,” Hal amended as Abby pulled up. “Abby, I’ve come to ask for your hand in marriage. Don’t say no again and break my heart.”

  “Hal, you couldn’t possibly afford me,” Abby said. “When I decide to take a trophy husband, he’s going to come with a dowry.”

  “Wait, I need to write this down,” Sadie said. “Speak slower when you’re spouting life lessons, Abby.”

  “Why don’t you kids come inside?” Abby suggested. “It’s starting to look like Woodstock out here, and you know how I feel about hippies. Pick your lip up, Lucas; it’s dragging the floor.” She put her arm around him and ushered him inside. Hal and Sadie trooped behind. They went to the kitchen where Sadie began preparing supper. None of them offered to help, but she would let them know what she wanted them to do if the time came.

  “Now, tell me about this new client,” Abby commanded.

  Hal leaned forward in his chair. “Wait, did you say client? You guys have a client? Excellent!”

  “Is the proper response when one learns that we have a client,” Sadie said. “Take note, Luke.” She tossed him a carrot and, like a trained dog, he ate it. He loved carrots, and Sadie knew. “Listen, my friends, to the harrowing tale of Captain Ben White.”

  “At no point did he ever say he was a captain,” Luke said. Sadie stuffed another carrot in his mouth. She repeated the story Ben had told her, with plenty of Sadie-esque embellishments. Only Sadie would think that a tale about possible murder wasn’t spicy enough. By the end, Hal and Abby were spellbound and bubbling with enthusiasm.

  “I can’t believe I am friends with a private investigator who is taking on a murder case. That is so going to be my Facebook status tonight. Take that, every popular kid I went to high school with,” Hal said.

  “He really gave us five thousand dollars?” Abby said. “Did you take a picture?”

  “No, but I saved the bank deposit slip for you.” She pulled a wad of paper from her pocket and tossed it in front of Abby.

  Luke raised his hand to get their attention. “Um, hello, why must I be the proverbial voice of reason? Does it occur to anyone else in this room that the guy is insane and you should have nothing to do with him?”

  The mood of the room turned sullen. “And that, my friends, is how a damper works,” Sadie said.

  “Stop saying ‘my friends.’ You sound like a politician. And I don’t think trying to keep us all alive and well is being a damper.”

  “So how are you going to solve it?” Hal asked.

  “We’re going to leave no stone unturned. We’re going to poke holes in every theory. We’re going to sniff out every suspect,” Sadie said.

  “You have no idea where to begin, huh?” Hal guessed.

  “None whatsoever, but we’ll figure it out. I’m going to sleep on it. Nighttime is when I get my best ideas,” she said.

  Luke clamped down hard on his opinion. He had given his objections, but he had also promised to be supportive. Nothing was going to change Sadie’s mind. Adding commentary at this point would be the equivalent of pounding a drum with a feather.

  As she did everything else, Sadie cooked with quickness and efficiency. The made-from-scratch meal was ready in a little less than an hour, complete with biscuits. The scene was comforting and domestic to Luke, much like a page from his childhood. Of the four of them, he was the only one with a positive family situation. Sadie had Gideon and all the baggage from her parents’ horrible marriage. Abby’s family was gone, and Hal’s family was estranged. The fact that he wasn’t a misfit like the others made him feel strangely lef
t out.

  “Luke’s wearing his serious face,” Hal observed. “What do you suppose he’s thinking?”

  Sadie stood and hugged Luke from behind. “He’s sad because he thinks I didn’t make dessert. But I did.” She let him go, opened the freezer, and pulled out a log of cookie dough. “Ta-da!”

  He wasn’t five and his affections couldn’t be swayed by food. Or so he thought until the scent of cookie dough began to fill the kitchen. “Thanks for supper, Sade. Why don’t you sit and take a load off while I clean up?” He tugged her to his chair and pushed her to a sitting position.

  “Trying to figure out how to remain seated without looking like a freeloading mooch,” Hal said. He screwed up his face and pressed his fingers to his temples as if he were concentrating. “No, can’t come up with anything. I can’t wait until I’m a real doctor who can fake emergency surgery to get out of moments like these.” He stood and began rolling his sleeves.

  “Seeing two young men in the kitchen does my old heart good,” Abby said. “It reminds me of when I was a girl and we had a male cook and butler. Those were good times. Why are you laughing, Hal?”

  “I thought you were going to make a profound statement about women’s rights and equality. Instead you’re recalling the halcyon days when you had household staff. You kill me, Abby.”

  “Those were halcyon days,” Abby said. “I never touched a sink of dishwater until I was in my thirties. In my day, we didn’t have this ridiculous notion of chores. That’s what servants were for. Well, enough nostalgia. I’m going to go watch some television.”

  “Does anyone get the sense that she secretly thinks we’re her household staff?” Hal asked.

  The timer on the cookies dinged. Sadie pulled them from the oven and fanned them to speed the cooling process. By the time Hal and Luke finished the dishes, she had removed them to a serving plate. She carried them to the den—the only room besides the kitchen where Abby allowed food—and they claimed what had become their usual spots while they ate. Abby was in a wing chair, her feet propped on an ottoman. Hal took the recliner and pushed it back as far as it would go. Sadie and Luke settled on the couch.

  Abby and Hal began to doze. Luke retrieved reading material from the never-ending pile on his desk. When he returned, Sadie lay down and rested her head in his lap. She was like a cat, constantly seeking warmth and affection, somehow without coming across as needy. Absently, his hand rested on her head and began to toy with the sausage-like ringlets of hair. She hadn’t straightened her hair since she moved in. He liked it better curly.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hal shift. A quick glance showed Hal watching him, smiling, and Luke was embarrassed. By nature, he wasn’t affectionate or demonstrative. Except with Sadie. But they had known each other forever and been attached at the hip for much of that time. So much time spent together had made them comfortable with each other. She felt like an extension of him, a beautiful, shapely extension. Of course Hal found it amusing because he had never seen this side of Luke before, but it didn’t mean anything. It was just the way things were with Sadie. Sadie was affectionate with everyone. Everyone but Gideon, he amended. She had always been that kid who would climb uninvited into an open lap and ask for a story. She was still a hugger, a hand-holder, a cuddler, a lap-seeker. Not that she ever sat in his lap, but she did often use it as a pillow for her head. And it didn’t mean anything. They hadn’t kissed since that one time a few weeks ago before she moved in. And they wouldn’t again. Things weren’t like that between them; they both agreed they were better off as friends with none of the other stuff between.

  Hal would say he was playing with fire, and maybe he was. But how was he supposed to tell Sadie to not be Sadie? Not that she would listen anyway. She had been good about keeping some distance between them, about not pushing the line. She didn’t flirt with him like she did almost every other man on the planet, and that was a good thing. So what if her presence, scent, and touch drove him to the brink of insanity? It was his problem, not hers. Trying to tell her not to look cute, smell good, or touch him would be like trying to tell a fish not to swim. Sadie was what she was, and he would have to work around it, and if Hal didn’t like it, then he could stop hanging around so much.

  He directed a scowl at Hal only to find him sound asleep. The mental argument had been just that—mental. Perhaps he was a tad touchy where Sadie was concerned. He glanced down and found that his fingers were still tangled in her hair. He removed them, and she woke up.

  “Missing persons,” she said, sitting up with a start.

  “What?”

  “Missing persons. That’s where I need to start. If Ben killed someone, it would have to be someone local because he woke up in his own bed. And they would have to be missing by now. The best place to start is with missing persons. I’ll check in the morning. Put your hand back, I’m cold.” She shoved his book aside and draped herself on his lap. Tentatively, he rested his hand on her shoulder. She cinched it closer, using his arm as a blanket. To his left, he could swear he heard Hal laughing, but when he turned to look, Hal appeared fast asleep.

  Chapter 3

  The police station always smelled the same, and it always reminded Sadie of her childhood. Her mother used to take her to visit her dad sometimes. Sadie wished the memories were pleasant. They could have been. Her mother, Victoria, had dressed Sadie in her finest, braided her hair, loaded her into the car, and driven to the police station as if it were a grand event. She had paraded her through the maze of desks, stopping to say hello to officers and clerks before landing in her father’s office. Once there, the gloves had come off, and it had been another place for battle. Sadie would sit on the couch in her father’s office, her hands pressed over her ears as her parents fought in vicious whispers.

  That was why the station’s smell of sweat, musty papers, and metal made Sadie’s insides twist with anxiety. She smiled and waved at a few familiar faces. Most of the officers who had been under her father’s command were now retired. A few remained, but she hadn’t known them as well as the old guard. There was one person, though, who was still present and whom Sadie liked very much.

  Mary Turnbull was the records clerk. She was a plump, sweet, scatterbrained woman who would always hold a special place in Sadie’s heart for one reason: she was the only person who had ever intervened and stood up for Sadie. Oddly, she was also the only real friend her mother ever had, at least for a time. Mary had been younger than her mother, a mere twenty five when she started working at the police station. She had started as Gideon’s secretary, and she was the first one he didn’t complain about. Intrigued and a little bit jealous, Victoria had descended on Mary like a horde of locusts, only to find that her “competition” was a plain and quiet woman, barely out of college. Curiously, Victoria had taken the hapless Mary under her wing, teaching her how to do her hair, apply makeup, and dress for her ample figure. Mary had soaked up the knowledge and the friendship like a sponge. She had been fascinated by Victoria’s cool beauty, and her fascination fed Victoria’s needy ego. They seemed like the perfect pair—a queen and her servant—until Mary happened to be there during one of Victoria and Gideon’s more epic battles.

  Sadie would never forget how quiet, sweet, and mousy Mary had stepped between her screaming parents, putting her hands out like a traffic cop as she commanded them to stop. “You shouldn’t be doing this in front of Sadie,” she had said. “Look at her, look at her face. This is terrible. Sadie and I are going to go get some ice cream. I hope you can pull yourselves together and put this to rest before we get back.” Then she had loaded Sadie into her car and immediately changed the subject to Sadie’s favorite television program. For that night, the ever-present knot in Sadie’s stomach had eased. She had laughed. She had found hope that things might be different. Surely if a grown up pointed out how horrible everything was then it would change. But it hadn’t. Gideon and Victoria had a never-ending supply of hate for each other, and Mary never came over agai
n.

  “Sadie!” Mary exclaimed when she looked up and saw her looming in the doorway. She dropped the file she was holding, came around her desk, and opened the half door that separated them. “Look at you, all grown up.” She smothered Sadie in a comforting hug.

  “Hi, Mary,” Sadie said. “You look beautiful.”

  Mary let her go with a chuckle. “Liar.”

  “I’m serious,” Sadie said, and she was. Mary was one of those people so pure that her inner beauty made up for any lack on the outside. Not that she was the Elephant Man—she had a pretty face and nice features. But her body was an unfortunate pear shape. Her hips remained large even when she lost weight, as she frequently did. Now she was at the lowest weight Sadie had ever seen her. Her hair, makeup, and clothes were stylish. Some women aged better than others, and the aging process agreed with Mary. If not for the extra baggage on her hips, she would look practically perfect. Sadie didn’t care about her hippy exterior, however. She liked Mary no matter what her size or shape.