Diet Club Death: Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery #3 (Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries)

by Brianna Bates

  Mrs. Butterworth finally did. “Women in general are constantly judged by how we appear. But we, we women of weight, we are under intense and dismissive scrutiny.” Mrs. Butterworth paused dramatically again. “No one can truly understand what it is like to be us, what it is like to be seen as disgusting, or just as bad, to be overlooked, to be ignored because we are overweight. That attitude burrows deep into our bones and permeates our sense of self and self-worth.

  “I started this club almost five years ago now so that women would have a safe place. A home away from home, where they could let their guard down and share their journey with other women. A place where there would be no judgment and create a network of support strong enough to bolster us through those all-too-frequent, incredibly difficult days. We’ve all been there. We’ve all heard the snickers in the hallway, coming from men who don’t even have the common decency to wait until we’re out of earshot.

  “And the first tenet—the most important principle that governs us—has been violated. One of our members has revealed the identity of another member to an outsider.”

  Missy thought they were taking the whole top secret thing a bit far. They were just participating in a Diet Club, not members of the Knights Templar. She half-expected to see Masonic imagery trotted out or robed figures appear and these thoughts would have made her laugh—

  Until the rest of the women present gasped.

  They were all shocked that one in their league had broken the first rule of Diet Club. Nobody was supposed to talk about Diet Club.

  Missy believed in trust and never breaking confidence and would hold herself to the standards Mrs. Butterworth expected. But she never for a moment expected everyone else to do the same. People loved to gossip, so there would always be gossip. That was just how people were. If you didn’t want something making the rounds, then you had better keep it to yourself.

  “Now, believe me, we will identify the member who divulged another member’s identity,” Mrs. Butterworth said. “We are taking this seriously. But if you’re here tonight and throw yourself upon the mercy of the group, we will consider being lenient.”

  Mrs. Butterworth moved the mike away from her mouth and through narrowed eyes peered out at the crowd. She started on her left and swept across the ballroom, lingering here and there. It reminded Missy of her nasty grade school teachers—actually, reminded her of the stern Eleanor Lyons. That woman had watched the fifth-graders like a hawk, her gaze fierce.

  Mrs. Butterworth completed the first sweep and just when Missy thought it was over, the woman swept her eyes back in the other direction, like a lighthouse suddenly changing its orientation. Even though Missy couldn’t be guilty of this infraction since this was her first meeting, she still squirmed under Mrs. Butterworth’s intense stare as the older woman’s eyes slowly moved over her.

  “Very well,” Mrs. Butterworth said. “You’ve made your decision. And I’ve made mine. You will be banished from this group once I know who you are.”

  Missy checked her phone. It had been five minutes since Karen had gone to the bathroom. Missy wondered if her friend was alright. Part of her wanted to get up to check on Karen—not that she knew where the bathroom was—but it would look suspicious if she got up and left the room at this very moment when Mrs. Butterworth was ready to pass serious judgment on somebody.

  Eventually Mrs. Butterworth moved on to the next agenda item. She asked members to come forward with success stories, and a long line formed. Missy almost groaned. She had been to diet clubs like this before where members gloated over losing a few pounds. To her, it seemed half the thrill for these people was just getting praise from everybody else. And judging by how long the line was, Missy knew they would be talking for awhile.

  The first woman took Mrs. Butterworth’s place behind the podium. She was medium height, small in the waist but significantly bigger in the hips and thighs. Missy would have actually killed for her figure.

  “Hi, everybody. I wanted to give my update. One month ago I started the Baby Food Diet.”

  Missy sat forward, thinking she’d misheard the woman.

  “It’s working really well. I puree everything on Sunday afternoon. It takes a few hours but then I’ve got all my meals for the week ready.”

  Missy was still not believing what the woman was saying. Did she really just eat baby food?

  “Of course, the portion control plays a big part too. One jar per meal, four to five meals per day.” She gripped her love handles. “The pounds have just melted away.”

  Missy wondered how long a person could sustain themselves on pureed food and at so few calories. She ate breakfast around seven-thirty and was usually ravenous by nine.

  The next woman came to the podium. She was round everywhere and had a friendly smile.

  “I know what you’re all going to say, but I really wanted to share…the cotton ball diet works.”

  Missy’s jaw dropped. Cotton ball surely had to be a euphemism for something else.

  “You just eat a few cotton balls before every meal. They really make you feel full…”

  Missy looked around the room, expecting everyone else to be incredulous. But the members acted like this was normal. They were adhering to one of the basic tenets of Diet Club: no judgment.

  The next woman that came up smiled and everybody applauded her. She was medium height and average size, so the cheers suggested she’d achieved significant weight loss.

  “I’ve figured out the secret to weight loss.” She beamed a bright smile and paused dramatically. The women around Missy scooted forward to the edge of their seats.

  “Two things.” The women held up her pointer and middle finger. “Diet and exercise. That’s it.”

  A few people booed playfully but the rest clapped. “Way to go, Alex!”

  The members started chanting Alex’s name. She basked in their applause for a moment, then held out her palms for quiet.

  “Seriously, that’s all it takes. Diet and exercise. I don’t try to cut out foods, I just try to restrict intake, and I make sure to exercise every day. When I exercise, I don’t want to eat junk food, it’s like my body craves good food.”

  Missy nodded. She’d experienced the same thing since she’d joined WiredFit. The crazy exercises, as difficult as they were, were actually fun and exhausted her so she slept soundly every night. And when she got hungry, she found herself reaching for a salad or an apple for a snack instead of her favorite potato chips. She joined in the applause for Alex.

  Missy listened politely to a few more success stories. One woman advocated the cigarette diet, and Missy had to remind herself that this was a judgment free zone. Another woman talked about sleeping for sixteen hours a day. The next woman shared her South Beach success story, she’d apparently lost forty pounds in six months and was feeling better than ever. She quipped that her husband’s sex drive, which on a normal day was through the roof, had skyrocketed into the stratosphere and that they were having sex every night and he’d just started coming home for lunch a couple times this week…

  Still no sign of Karen, though. Missy fidgeted in her seat and was happy to see a couple other women get up and head for the back of the ballroom, either to get a refill on their drink or to use the bathroom somewhere in the house. Missy figured she could safely get up now.

  “You must be Missy.”

  Missy stopped half-way out of her seat. The tall, blonde women wearing the trendy t-shirt ripped open to reveal an admittedly impressive amount of cleavage was standing next to the empty seat Missy had saved for Karen.

  “Hi.”

  The woman slid into the seat and Missy retook hers. They shook hands. The woman’s hand was warm and slick. She was very pretty with dazzling blue eyes and wavy blond hair but it was marred some by the nervous smile she was wearing.

  “I’m Connie.”

  “You must be friends with Karen,” Missy said, acting like she hadn’t seen the two of them arguing ten minutes ago by the door to the ha
llway.

  Connie nodded. “We’re very close.”

  “How do you two know each other?”

  “We’ve known each for a few years, actually,” Connie said, but didn’t elaborate.

  Missy wondered at the woman sitting next to her. Connie’s stare was beginning to make her feel uncomfortable.

  “Karen didn’t seem herself tonight,” Connie said. “I’m a little worried.”

  “I think she’s coming down with something,” Missy said, vaguely. Connie was giving her a weird vibe. The woman’s eyes never moved.

  “I knew she was sick,” Connie said. “Just like Karen. She never wants to admit weakness.”

  Missy frowned. That wasn’t the Karen she knew. Ever since they were little girls they’d shared their deepest, darkest secrets with each other. They had laid bare all their weaknesses and anxieties through their friendship. If Connie hadn’t gotten the same from Karen, then Missy had to question whether they were really friends or not.

  “Did she say anything to you about me?” Connie asked.

  There was an alarm going off in Missy’s head now. Connie was coming across like a teenager, wondering if Karen had brought her up in conversation. There was something really odd—almost desperate—about Connie.

  “You know, we don’t actually talk that much.”

  “Really?” Connie frowned. “Because she told me you were her closest friend.”

  Missy was taken aback. They had certainly been friends in middle school, but ever since then had only seen each other a few times a year. While she still viewed Karen as a good friend, Missy wouldn’t have classified Karen as her closest friend—not by a long shot. Missy wondered why Karen had told Connie that, especially if she wasn’t that close to Connie.

  Missy smiled. “We’ve been friends forever, I think that’s what she meant. We both probably know more about each other than anybody else. We were best friends in grade school.”

  Connie’s gaze finally drifted away. “I see.”

  Missy checked her phone again. Karen had been in the bathroom for almost twenty minutes.

  “I’m going to check on her,” Missy said.

  Connie acted like she hadn’t heard Missy. Instead she just kept staring off into space, as if she was lost in thought.

  “Uh, excuse me, Connie. I’m just going to slip by so I can check on Karen.”

  “What?” Connie seemed to come back to the present moment. “Oh, right, yes. Maybe I’ll come with you?”

  Missy didn’t really want her to. Connie was putting out such a strange vibe and given that she and Karen had gotten into argument right before the meeting started, Missy really didn’t think Karen would want to talk to her, especially if Karen was pitched over a toilet bowl right now.

  “You know what? If she’s feeling bad, she might not want a whole bunch of people crowding her. I’ll probably just end up getting her into her car.”

  “Crowding?” Connie gave her a mean look. “Who’s crowding? It’s just the two of us.”

  Missy smiled. She did not like this woman but didn’t know how to tell her no. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right.”

  Missy just stared dumbly at her for a second, trying to read her and understand why she was acting so oddly. But Connie said nothing and just returned that stare.

  Missy realized she wasn’t getting anywhere. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Chapter Three

  The bathroom isn’t far,” Connie said as they stepped into the hallway.

  “So how long have you been coming?”

  Connie gave her a suspicious look. “No offense, Missy, but this is your first time.”

  Missy had had enough of this woman’s attitude and gruff demeanor. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “How do I know you’ll be back? How do I know you won’t break trust?”

  “Because I’m Karen’s friend.” Missy stopped walking and faced her. “She got me voted in, right? You said you were her friend too—don’t you trust Karen?”

  A mixture of conflicting emotions passed over Connie’s face. “Trust has to be earned.”

  “Right.” Missy folded her arms. “And right now, you’re not earning it.”

  Connie turned away and started walking again. “I trust Karen, but that doesn’t mean I have to trust you.”

  Missy caught up to her and they walked the rest of the hallway in silence. Before they reached the turn for the main foyer, Connie stopped in front of a closed door. Missy heard the whir of a fan inside the bathroom.

  Connie was about to knock, but Missy grabbed her arm.

  “Let me,” Missy said, figuring there was no harm in laying all the cards on the table now. Connie obviously didn’t like or trust her. “I don’t think Karen wants to talk to you.”

  Anger flashed through Connie’s eyes. “Who do you think you are?”

  “Karen’s friend.” Missy knocked loudly. “Karen, you in there?”

  The fan continued to whir but there was no response.

  Missy knocked again. “Karen?”

  Still no response.

  “I’m worried,” Connie said, the anger draining out of her face. She might not have been a nice person, but she was clearly concerned about Karen so that counted for something in Missy’s book. “She’s been in there for awhile…”

  Missy knocked again. “Karen?”

  “Let’s try the door.”

  Missy didn’t want Connie bothering Karen, but she was more worried about her friend at this point. She tried knocking one more time and practically yelled.

  “KAREN?”

  Still no response. All they could hear was the fan.

  Connie didn’t wait. She threw open the door and they both stepped into the tiny guest bathroom. At first, Missy couldn’t process what she was seeing, but slowly the images made sense. The towel had been pulled off the rack, the bathroom rugs were bunched and askew, the shower curtain had been torn off a couple hinges…

  And Karen was facedown, crumpled on the floor, her body wedged between the toilet and the wall.

  Chapter Four

  Missy stood outside in the humid summer night. The rest of the women had congregated in small groups on Mrs. Butterworth’s lawn, most of them being respectful and talking quietly.

  The police and ambulance arrived at the same time. For a moment, Missy expected her high school sweetheart to jump out of the lead cruiser, wearing that uniform that looked so good on him. But the police cars were painted a different color and had different designs, reminding her she was not in Grove City. A different detective would handle this case.

  But she did see a familiar face coming out of the ambulance. She remembered the local EMT serviced the county, not just Grove City.

  Aaron wore a white shirt and navy blue pants. They had been in the same class throughout school and graduated high school together. Ever since she’d returned from college, Aaron had made a habit of asking her out. He was a good guy and they’d always been friendly, but she’d never felt any kind of spark.

  She wished she did, because Aaron was good-looking and available. But she always found herself—unfairly—comparing the men in her life to Tyler…and so far nobody had come close. Not by a long shot.

  “Miss.” He was halfway to the house when he saw her. Aaron stopped and hustled over. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. Karen…” Her voice betrayed her and she couldn’t find the words. Aaron’s hand felt nice on her shoulder, and before she realized what was happening, she’d embraced him.

  “Hey, Aaron, we have work to do.”

  “One second,” Aaron told his partner, a younger man Missy didn’t recognize.

  “Sorry.” Missy pulled away and swiped under her eyes, no doubt smearing her mascara and what little makeup she bothered to put on. She must have looked a sight.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss,” Aaron said, his hand still on her shoulder. “Let me get things squared away. Then if you want to talk?”

&
nbsp; Missy found herself nodding.

  She waited outside while the EMTs did their job inside. A few minutes later, one of the police officers stepped out the front door. Missy watched him ask the nearest woman a question, and that woman pointed in Missy’s direction. He sauntered over, a little bit of swagger in his step. He was wearing plain clothes, a shirt and tie and pants but no suit coat.

  “Ma’am, I’m Detective Paul Johnson. Everybody calls me PJ and you can do the same if you’d like.”

  She nodded but didn’t call him anything. She hadn’t found her voice yet.

  “I understand you were the one that found Karen?”

  Missy nodded again. “She was my friend since grade school.”

  He frowned and looked genuinely apologetic. “I’m real sorry.”

  “I wasn’t alone, I was with Connie when we found her.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I’ve spoken with Connie already.”

  Missy heard the words but they didn’t register. “What happened to Karen?”

  He absently looked back at the house. “We don’t know yet, I’m afraid.”

  She shook her head. It just didn’t make sense. She’d been having a regular conversation with Karen not more than thirty minutes before she died in the bathroom…somehow.

  “When will you know?” Missy asked.

  “Soon enough.” His mouth smiled but his eyes didn’t. He was politely telling her to butt out, something she wasn’t exactly good at when it came to murder investigations. And this time would be even more difficult, considering the fact Karen was her good friend of many years.

  PJ asked her to walk him through her night. She proceeded to give him a little bit of background about the secretive Diet Club, not caring if she was revealing anything she shouldn’t. She brought him up to speed on meeting up with Karen and then going inside to the meeting and gave him a rough timeline of when Karen had left to use the bathroom and when she’d found her there with Connie. PJ didn’t interject till she got to the end, then he circled back with some clarifying questions.