“Remember to smile,” Karen said.
Missy did.
Karen opened the door and they entered what Missy could only describe as a ballroom. It actually reminded her of the room where Belle and the Beast danced in the Disney movie. At the far end, glass paneling led up to a glass half-dome that commanded a view of the night sky.
But that wasn’t even the most overwhelming thing about the room.
Missy couldn’t count how many women were standing around, talking. Most had drinks in their hands, and just as Missy wondered why they would drink empty calories at a Diet Club meeting of all places, a server approached both her and Karen.
“Ladies, may I get you something to drink?” He looked no more than twenty years old. Missy thought she saw a resemblance to the butler that had let them into the house.
“The usual,” Karen said, pressing a tip into his gloved hand.
“For you, miss?”
It took Missy a moment to realize he wasn’t calling her by her nickname. “Uh, sure, yes—” She looked at Karen. “What are you having?”
“Vitamin water.”
Missy had been expecting her to say some kind of mixed drink, but vitamin water sounded good. “I’ll have the same.”
The server went off before she could tip him. Good thing, too, because all she had was a twenty.
“Mrs. Butterworth puts this meeting on every week?” Missy asked, incredulous.
Karen nodded. “She has money to burn. And then some.”
For a moment, Missy just stood there, speechless, admiring the ballroom and awed by the sheer number of women there. Like everywhere else in the house, this space was low-lit and gloomy. And it was hot in the ballroom. All these people bringing their body heat.
The women ranged in size from the petite and slender to the average to the chubby to the big and beautiful (like her) to the obese and to the morbidly obese. The server returned with their Vitamin Waters and Missy lucked out again—another wave of women had just come in so the server went to take their orders.
As Missy’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, she started to recognize many of the women. To her surprise, she saw several of the Little Old Ladies that came to the used bookstore where she worked, Books and Crannies. Even more astonishing, she saw Marie, her workout buddy from WiredFit. Marie was in much better shape than her and had recently lost that stubborn last ten pounds she’d been fighting with “like forever” in her own words. Missy kept people-watching and laid eyes on Trudy Shaw, the woman she’d briefly suspected of murdering Anne Baxter a few months back, and then she saw Alison, and Ellen, and—
“Karen!” A woman Missy didn’t know approached, with three others in tow. They were all in good enough shape and didn’t really have to be here, Missy thought, before correcting herself. Just because someone was fit didn’t mean they didn’t struggle with their weight. It was just as important to stick to the diet after you were in shape, Missy reminded herself, not that she had much experience with that scenario. In high school, she’d played sports and that had helped with the weight but after that the pounds had slowly but inexorably added on. Since then she’d vacillated between chubby and big and beautiful.
“Hi, Abella,” Karen said, wearing what Missy thought was clearly a fake smile. “This is my best friend from grade school, Missy.”
Abella looked Missy up and down, making a big show of it. “Hello…was it Missy?” She said it like the name was beneath her.
Missy returned the woman’s rude gesture, looking her up and down. Abella was dressed like she’d just come from an office where no doubt she had a very important job.
Missy shook the woman’s icy hand. “Yes.” Missy looked from her to Karen. “How do you two know each other?”
Abella smirked at Karen. “I talk all day long to clients. Why don’t you tell her, Karen?”
Karen kept that fake-smile in place. It was quickly becoming obvious, though, she wasn’t happy to see Abella. Or the woman’s friends. They were all dressed professionally like her in expensive-looking suits, their hair perfect, their teeth perfect, their bodies perfect…
“We work together,” Karen said.
“Well,” Abella said, “I wouldn’t say together. I’m a shareholder at the firm.”
She said it like Missy was supposed to be impressed, but Abella clearly didn’t know Missy. Very few jobs impressed Missy, and corporate attorney was not one of them. Missy was old-fashioned and really respected doctors, nurses, teachers, police officers, and people who spent most of their time helping others. The people that really made a difference. Her parents had shown her how to be down-to-earth and along the way Missy had learned to not waste her time on anybody that looked down their nose at you.
Like Abella was doing now.
“You’re lucky to have Karen,” Missy said. “I’ll bet she’s the best paralegal in the office. She was always a straight A student.”
Abella made a little face, and her friends almost rolled their eyes.
“Oh, we’re lucky to have Karen alright.” Abella sipped her mixed drink. “For the most part. But we had that little scare recently, didn’t we, Karen?”
Karen lost the smile. “Yes, Abella. It was my first mistake in a long time and I got it cleared up before it became a problem.”
“Right. Harmless, I know.” Abella pretended to be joking, but it was obvious to Missy she wasn’t. “Poor Karen had to call out last week with the flu.”
Without thinking, Missy frowned. In the hallway, Karen had denied being sick recently but here Abella was telling her Karen had suffered from the flu only last week.
“Yes.” Karen’s voice was flat. “The first sick day I took in almost three years.”
“Right.” Abella lost her fake smile and without even looking at Missy, said, “Nice meeting you.” Then she and her friends strolled off to mingle elsewhere.
“What a bitch,” Missy said when the woman was a minimum safe distance away.
Karen shook her head. “She took a disliking to me immediately. It was sort of my own fault.”
“How could that be your fault?” Missy nodded in Abella’s direction. “That woman is vicious.”
Karen chuckled. “Her bark is worse than her bite. What I meant was, I made an enemy out of her when I started at the firm. I was fresh out of school and didn’t know my way around an office yet. All the politics, you know. Without thinking, I shared something with one of her colleagues that put her in a bad light. I didn’t even know it at the time, it was totally harmless. But she has never forgiven me for it. That was twelve years ago!”
“Missy?”
They both turned to find Eleanor Lyons, their fifth grade teacher. For only half a year.
“Hi, Ms. Ly—” Missy stopped short. She had been a grown woman for awhile now and it seemed silly to call this woman by her last name like they were still in fifth grade, especially when—
“Melissa, you can call me Eleanor. You’re a grown woman.”
The way Eleanor said grown, Missy knew she wasn’t referring to her age. It was a thinly veiled crack at her weight, which Missy thought was incredible given the setting.
“Still bitter, huh?” Missy folded her arms.
Eleanor laughed but it sounded forced. “Of course not. That was a long time ago, and you and Karen were so little. How could I blame you?”
But she had blamed them, and Missy could tell she still did. Missy and Karen had caught her pushing Kyle O’Houlihan in the hallway. It was during the middle of class, so Eleanor must have thought nobody would see her. Looking back now, Missy realized that Kyle had been a real handful but that still didn’t excuse the shove. They had both reported it to the principal and Eleanor had been promptly fired, despite her argument that she’d only put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder to get his attention and the kid had purposely fallen and put on an act to get her in trouble.
Eleanor turned to Karen. “How did, you-know-what go?”
Missy had no idea what they were talking
about. Karen’s eyes got wide. “Uh, fine.”
Karen checked her phone for the time. “We better go find a seat.”
Eleanor watched them as Karen ushered Missy toward the rows of folding chairs that were lined up and facing the glass wall.
“What was that all about?” Missy asked, feeling her old teacher’s eyes on them.
“Eleanor shared her diet with me a couple weeks ago and I said I’d try it.”
“It worked?”
Karen hesitated. “Sorry, Miss, but she shared it in confidence with me so I can’t tell you what it was.”
Missy was taken aback. It seemed ridiculous that Karen would keep this from her, especially since Eleanor had brought it up in the first place with her standing right there. But Diet Club had so many rules.
“Let’s sit here.” Karen signaled at two chairs on the end of a row. “I’m going to get another drink, do you want one?”
Missy had barely sipped her Vitamin Water. “No thanks.”
Karen coughed a few times into the crook of her arm. “I can’t get rid of this cough.”
Which reminded Missy. “So you had the flu last week? In the hallway you said—”
Karen eyes darted around, presumably looking for Abella. “Miss, I needed a mental health day last week. I wasn’t sick.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t understand.” Karen looked at her miserably. “Since the firm merged with that other one, it’s a totally different environment.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’ve been working eleven hours day non-stop for two months.” Karen shook her head. “I preferred things when we were small, even a mid-sized firm. Now we’re a big corporation. I hate it.”
“That’s awful.” Missy had been lucky in work since graduating college. She’d spent all her time at Books and Crannies, doing what she loved: talking about books and selling them and helping people find ones they would really enjoy. Even better, she got to work with Noreen, her best friend.
“Yes, work life is brutal right now.”
“How’s the love life? Seeing anybody?” Missy asked, wincing inwardly once the words were out. Karen hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend or dating in any of their email or Facebook exchanges the last couple of years. A few years ago, she’d been briefly engaged to Ron Moore. She and Ron had met in their late twenties. Missy always got the impression that Ron was head-over-heels about her, but that Karen didn’t quite feel as strongly for him. They’d broken off the engagement three years ago. Karen had been vague on details at the time and Missy didn’t want to pry. Then the usual happened: a few months passed before they spoke again and by that time Missy felt like the ship had sailed to discuss that topic.
Just going off Karen’s mixed expression, Missy figured her friend hadn’t had much success in her love life. It was a shame, because Karen was sweet and kind and pretty and would have made anybody a good partner. There was no other reason for her to be alone except her weight, a thought that totally depressed Missy.
Karen opened her mouth to speak, but stopped short. Missy felt horrible, knowing she had asked a bad question. Well, at least Karen could take comfort in the fact that Missy was about as close to the altar as she was. She hadn’t been out on a date in over a year, and spent idle time thinking about her high school sweetheart, Tyler Brock, the chief detective in Grove City and still married, emphasis on the word still. He and his wife had separated but were trying to work it out. She had no details other than that.
Karen’s mouth was still open. She looked like she was going to say something, but before she could, she broke into another hacking fit.
“Jeez, Karen, are you okay?” That cough did not sound good.
“I guess I am coming down with something.” Karen grabbed at her stomach. “Honestly, Miss, not to overshare, but I’m having stomach problems. You know?”
“Ah.”
Karen nodded. “Everything is just going right through—” She coughed again.
“What diet are you on?” Missy asked. “Maybe it’s not agreeing with you?”
Karen shook her head. “Can’t tell you, it’s the one Eleanor…”
Missy held up her hand. “Don’t tell me.”
Karen clutched her stomach. “I hate to leave you alone but right now I have to, uh, go.”
“Oh that’s too bad.”
Karen nodded. “Save my seat?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.”
Missy watched Karen hurry off. Before her friend could even leave the room to get to the bathroom, though, another woman Missy didn’t recognize stopped her. She was tall, blonde, and buxom. She wore a v-neck t-shirt and a bra that gave her a mile of cleavage.
Missy was about to turn back around when she saw the woman latch onto Karen’s arm, not letting her go. From this distance, Missy couldn’t really see the expression on Karen’s face but her body language was plain as day.
She and this woman were arguing about something. Missy wondered what it could be about. Karen was kind-hearted and didn’t have a mean bone in her body. Even though Abella, the shareholder at her firm, had been incredibly rude to her face, Karen had half-laughed it off later. And somehow, after getting Eleanor fired from her teaching job, Karen had befriended the woman.
Karen pointed in the woman’s face, spat out some words, then wrenched her arm out of the woman’s grip before storming off. The tall blonde watched her leave the room, and even took a step to follow, but stopped before she got to the door. Slowly, she turned and headed for the folding chairs. Missy dropped her eyes quickly and slowly spun around in her seat so it wasn’t obvious that she’d been watching.
The rest of the women filed in and took their seats. Missy did a quick headcount. There were two columns and seven rows of chairs. Each half row had five people in it, which meant there were seventy people in here.
As if they were all on a timer, every woman stopped talking in time for a huge spotlight to snap on. The contrast to the gloom actually hurt, forcing Missy to shield her eyes and squint. The other women clapped and cheered, rising out of their seats to applaud Mrs. Butterworth.
She was a big woman. Missy felt for her. No one got that large by eating alone. Genetics played such a huge factor in that equation, though that didn’t explain Missy’s own situation. Both her parents and all her grandparents had been trim, some of them actually on the slight side. Maybe she’d gotten the recessive gene that had been lurking for a long time in the family’s DNA, ready to spring its deadly trap on the unsuspecting. Or maybe, she just needed to eat less…but she didn’t know how she could. When she paid attention to her diet, she made sure to eat between fifteen hundred and eighteen hundred calories a day, which was hardly a lot. And even when she cheated (which was rare these days), she cheated carefully and infrequently—
“Thank you all for coming.” Mrs. Butterworth pushed a rolling walker ahead of her as she slowly made her way into the spotlight to stand behind the podium where a microphone was set up. “Before we get to the substance of the meeting, I would like to take a moment to welcome the newest member of our family: Melissa DeMeanor.”
Missy hadn’t been expecting this. Feeling self-conscious in her old jeans that were too tight in the waist, she stood and gave a little half-wave.
“We do hope you’ll share your story with us, Missy, as it is our philosophy that we can all learn from one another,” Mrs. Butterworth said.
It took Missy a moment to realize Mrs. Butterworth was asking her to share right now. But when one of the servers politely tapped her on the shoulder with a wireless microphone, she got the picture.
“Oh. Thank you.”
“Into the mike, dear,” Mrs. Butterworth said.
“Oh. Thank you!” Her voice boomed across the ballroom and the mike squeaked. “Sorry.” She smiled and laughed. As she took in the audience, she saw Abella turned in her chair ahead, watching her with lizard-like eyes. Eleanor, her old fifth grade teacher, was frowning at her
.
“Hi, I’m Melissa DeMeanor, but everybody calls me Missy, for obvious reasons.” This drew some polite laughter from the audience. “I’ve known Karen since we were little girls, going to grade school together.”
At the mention of Karen, Missy saw the tall-blond, seated two rows ahead, turn around fully in her seat. She couldn’t read the woman’s expression.
“In a way, it makes sense that Karen would invite me in because for as long as we’ve known each other, we’ve both struggled with our weight.”
“Tell us about it,” Mrs. Butterworth said.
Missy hated talking about her weight, even in what was supposed to be a safe, supportive environment like this. But she didn’t feel comfortable here, not with Eleanor, Abella, and now also the tall blonde woman staring at her.
“I’ll bet everybody has felt this way at one point or another, but I feel like the deck is stacked against me.” Missy tried to calm down. She didn’t like being the center of attention—never had. “I’ve watched what other people eat and I’ve eaten the same things in the same portions, but they stay skinny and I just put weight on. I get heavier just walking past a bakery.”
“We know what you mean!” somebody in the front row shouted, and everybody cheered. Which was a little strange because Missy hadn’t been trying to rally anybody, but still it made her feel better.
“Thanks. Well, I don’t want to complain or make excuses. My weight is my weight. As the years go by, I get used to who I am and I don’t let my weight define me, but still, I’d like to get rid of it so I can be healthier.”
“Hear, hear, Missy,” Mrs. Butterworth said. “Thank you for sharing your story.”
The server tapped Missy on the shoulder again, and she handed the mike off. She was grateful Mrs. Butterworth had kept the meeting on track, because she had run out of things to say.
“Now then.” Mrs. Butterworth grew serious. “Shifting gears to a much more serious, grievous matter. I myself cannot believe I’m saying this, but one of our members has broken the very first rule of Diet Club.”
A total, all-consuming silence fell over the crowd. Mrs. Butterworth let that silence stretch to the toe-curling, grimacing awkward stage, to the point where the members were beginning to look at each other, hoping someone would break the silence.
Diet Club Death: Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery #3 (Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries) Page 2
