But still, there was no denying how strangely he’d acted. Or how angry he’d been. After all these years, Ron should have been over it by now. But he wasn’t.
***
Missy waited almost an hour to see Detective Paul Johnson. The police station in Templeton was much newer compared to the one in Grove City, and a lot bigger to boot. She waited patiently until PJ came out to the front and smiled professionally at her.
“Miss DeMe—” He smiled shyly. “I guess you’ve heard that one before.”
Missy wanted to roll her eyes. One of these days Mom would adequately explain why they’d decided to call their only daughter Melissa with a last name of DeMeanor, and then had gone on to exclusively use her nickname.
But she put on a smile for him. “It’s funny, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Especially with how you fancy yourself a detective.”
The man was smiling but there was a little bit of a tone in his voice. The implication being: she should leave police matters to the police.
He made no move to let her into the back of the station where his desk or cube or office might be. She looked past his shoulder.
“Can we talk in your office?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m right in the middle of something. Can you come back later this afternoon, or better yet, can you stop by tomorrow?”
Missy choked back what she really wanted to say: that she’d been waiting an hour already, and if he didn’t have the time to meet with her he should have just passed that message along to her up front.
She kept smiling, though it was getting harder to maintain the gesture. “It’s my day off, and I work tomorrow…I promise I’ll only take up a few minutes of your time.”
PJ leveled his eyes on her, his face neutral. She expected him to show her the door, but instead he checked the time on his watch.
“I have ten minutes, tops,” he said. “Then I really need to get back to what I was doing.”
“Thanks.” She hurried forward before he changed his mind. “I appreciate it.”
She followed him through the police station as PJ snaked his way around the desks that were arranged in haphazard fashion on the floor. Phones were constantly ringing and the cops not on the phones were talking to each other. Everybody looked really busy. It made her think that PJ was telling her the truth, that he really was in the middle of something.
PJ had a small office that was just big enough to fit two desks for him and his partner. Missy smiled at the other man, who briefly looked up from his computer monitor to see who PJ had brought back.
“Ben, this is Missy. Missy, Ben.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything, then went back to his computer.
“Please have a seat, Missy.” PJ pointed at the spare chair in the office. It was covered with files. “You can just put those on the floor.”
Missy drew in a quiet breath, trying to calm herself. She was a small-town girl and old-fashioned and was not a little miffed that PJ hadn’t cleared the chair for her. It would have been the polite thing to do. It was getting more and more obvious by the moment he was just humoring her. The ten minutes he had allotted her was a hard stop—they would be up fast.
The files were awkwardly stacked, so Missy of course ended up fumbling them as she put them on the floor. One file flipped over and half-spilled. She tried to stuff the documents back into it, but there were too many for the file and they just kept spilling out. While she was hunched over, she kept waiting for PJ to interject, to help her or tell her to just leave the file.
He did neither.
Missy finally gave up and just let the file lay sideways on the floor, its contents half-spilled. She couldn’t spend her ten minutes trying to reorganize this guy’s office.
Missy sat in the chair.
“What would you like to discuss?” PJ asked.
Her patience was worn thin and his doing nothing while she was hunched over had really gotten under her skin. But she forced herself to be pleasant.
“You probably know why I’m here,” Missy said.
PJ raised an eyebrow. “It’s about Karen, I’m presuming.”
Duh. “Right. I went to her viewing last night.”
“I’m very sorry,” he said quickly.
“Thank you.” Missy gathered herself. “I spoke to Mrs. Wise, her mother, while I was there.”
“Um-hmm.”
Missy watched his eyes. They revealed nothing. “I just couldn’t believe what she told me, about Karen.”
“What did she tell you?”
So it was going to be like that. To get him to answer anything, she’d have to pull teeth. Missy didn’t understand the standoffish attitude. If he didn’t think it was murder, that meant the case was closed so there was no reason to hold any details back.
“She told me that Karen was infected with tape worms.”
His face twitched. “Yes.”
“That’s true?”
He nodded.
She waited for him to expand on his answer, but PJ just sat there.
Missy went on. “How do you think that happened?”
PJ sat forward and folded his hands. “Missy, I understand how difficult this must be for you.”
So he was going there already? She hadn’t even shared what she knew and he was ready to brush her off. Her stomach churned.
“Okay, I’m just going to come out and say what I’m thinking then,” Missy said. “Karen never, not in a million years, would have ingested tape worms.”
PJ held her gaze. “There’s no doubt about it.”
Missy groaned. “I know she was infected. What I’m telling you is someone gave them to her.”
PJ’s lips grew thin. She could tell he was trying to think of a delicate way to say what he had to say.
“Missy, your friend was a member of an extreme dieting group—”
“That doesn’t mean she was an extreme dieter!”
He talked right over her. “According to you, her parents, other members, people she worked with, and her other friends, Karen struggled with her weight her entire life.”
“So have I.”
“She was really struggling, Missy.”
She didn’t like his emphasis on the word really. “What does that mean?”
“It means…” She could see the wheels spinning in his mind as he thought of how to phrase it. “…it means she was in a very bad place.”
“Psychologically, you’re saying?”
He nodded once.
“So what?” She pointed at him. “You’re thin so you don’t know what it’s like to be heavy, to be loudly or even silently ridiculed your whole life because of excess weight.”
He held out a palm. “I won’t even begin to imagine what she was going through, Missy.”
She didn’t hear him, though. She was too fired up. “We have our ups and downs and some days, yes, it’s depressing to look in the mirror and see all the hard work you’ve put in to lose weight all for nothing. But Karen wouldn’t have resorted to tape worms.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve known her since we were seven years old. And have you spoken to Eleanor Lyons?”
“Eleanor is…” Paul searched his memory.
“She’s a member of the club too. That night, Karen told me that Eleanor recommended a diet to her.”
“Oh that’s right.” Paul nodded. “I did speak to Eleanor and she showed me the email she’d sent to Karen with the new diet.”
Missy waited for him to expand on his answer. When he didn’t, she said, “And it wasn’t the tape worm diet, right?”
Paul shook his head no. “It was about timing your meals differently. There’s some science behind eating the same amount of calories, but just at different parts of the day. I had no idea.”
In her mind, Missy crossed Eleanor of the list of suspects. “Okay, so tell me then, if Karen was on this new diet that was working why would she give herself tape worms?”
Mi
ssy had almost forgotten about the man’s partner, until the other cop looked up from his computer and turned in his chair to openly listen and watch.
PJ didn’t answer the question. “I appreciate you knew her a long time, but how often did you see her recently?”
“Not as much as either of us liked,” Missy said, seeing where he was going with this. “But that doesn’t mean we weren’t close.”
PJ nodded a few times. “When was the last time you saw her before three nights ago?”
Missy had to think about it. “Four or five months, maybe.”
“You yourself told me you only saw Karen once every few months at most.”
“Yeah, but like I said, we were close. We knew each other our whole lives…we shared a bond that went beyond seeing each other every week.”
PJ sat back. “Missy, I’m sorry to tell you this, but I have no reason to suspect anybody gave her tape worms.”
“What about Abella? What about her ex-fiance? What about her friend, Connie? I saw them practically yelling in each other’s faces right before Karen went to the bathroom that night!”
PJ folded his arms. “I’m sorry, Missy. There’s just nothing there.”
“No, wait. Wait a second. There’s more.” She replayed her conversation with Karen for him, practically word-for-word. “When I asked her if she’d tried the tape worm diet, she reacted pretty strongly. It wasn’t an act. And if she had tried it, she would have told me. I’m sure of it.”
PJ gave off the appearance of considering what she was saying at least. “Double bluff.”
“Excuse me?”
“You started the thread with her, right?”
Missy didn’t know what he was saying.
PJ went on. “You asked her what the craziest diet she’d heard of was, then she volunteered that anecdote about the tape worms?”
Missy nodded. “That’s what I said, right—”
“Did you ever stop and consider that might have been her way of gauging your reaction, to see if she could share that information with you?”
“Karen would—”
Missy stopped what she was saying. He’d made a good point. Thinking back to the conversation with Karen, her friend had watched her reaction the whole time…but no, there was no way. Missy knew Karen, no matter how infrequently they saw each other. And what was more, Karen never lied to her like that. Sure, she might have held back on some things but she was always up front about keeping things to herself. This double bluff, or whatever PJ had called it, wasn’t Karen’s style.
“I knew my friend, PJ. This wasn’t her.”
He pursed his lips, clearly biting back what he really wanted to say. “I’m sorry, Missy. I know how difficult this loss must be.”
“You’re not even going to look into the possibility?”
He stood. “We’ll take what you’re saying into consideration. Now I’m sorry, but I really have to get back to what I was doing.”
Missy stood. She wanted to fire off a snappy comeback, but she was too upset.
Chapter Nine
Missy didn’t know what to do with herself. It was the early afternoon. She had the day off, but Noreen was working. She tried her mother, but got no answer. So she ended up driving around, eventually stopping at the diner across the street from the fire department. It was an odd hour to eat but she didn’t know what else to do.
The waitress came and Missy ordered a garden salad and glass of water. Lost in thought, she stared absently out the window. She had three—no, four—leads to explore but didn’t know the best way to even approach them. Even worse, her conversation with PJ had put some doubt into her mind. The truth was, she and Karen weren’t as close as they’d been years ago. After breaking off her engagement, Karen hadn’t even felt comfortable enough with Missy to share the details. That should have told her something.
“Hey, Missy.”
She was so absorbed in her thoughts, Missy hadn’t even seen Aaron walking right toward her across the diner. Wearing his same uniform from the other night, Missy briefly wondered what he was doing here, then recalled the EMTs liked to hang out at the fire station sometimes. He must have been across the street.
“Hi, Aaron.” She got up and gave him a hug.
He kept his hands on her shoulders. “It’s good to see you.”
She smiled. “I won’t be much company, Aaron.”
He made a face. “How was the funeral?”
“As good as a funeral of a thirty-seven-year-old woman can go.”
He grimaced. “Sorry, dumb question. What I meant to really ask is, how are you holding up?”
Missy didn’t know where to begin. Normally Aaron was angling to ask her out, so she politely made small talk without revealing anything too serious about herself. She liked him, and looking into his eyes now, she was taken back by how handsome he was. Growing up he’d always been kind of awkward, especially in high school, but now that he’d been a man for many years, he’d come into his own. Why had she never seen him this way before?
“Honestly? I’m not doing that well.”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. Normally that kind of gesture would put her off, but Missy liked the feel of his hands. Even though he was touching her, she didn’t get the sense he was hitting on her, strangely.
“I’m sorry.” Aaron looked away for a moment. “I know what you’re going through.”
Missy remembered. A few years ago, Aaron had lost his best friend from high school, Elliot Gamble. A drunk had crossed the center line and plowed into Elliot head-on while he was on his way home from a fundraiser of all things
“He was a good guy, Elliot,” she said.
Aaron nodded. “Just like I’m sure Karen was. Especially if you were friends with her.”
She smiled, grateful for having him here. She’d always liked Aaron, even if his advances were a little too obvious and forced. He was a good guy. He worked as an EMT and was just…nice all around.
Missy felt strange. It was like she’d seen Aaron with new eyes. He was a good guy. Why had she rejected all his advances over the years? Probably because she was still subconsciously pining for Tyler Brock, which seemed so stupid to her right now.
“Hey, where did you go?” Aaron asked.
Missy shook her head. She had to be careful. She was very emotional right now over the loss of her friend. That had to be influencing how she saw Aaron. She couldn’t throw herself into his arms…what if she woke up tomorrow and realized it had been a mistake? After all these years of pursuing her, the rejection would crush him.
“Sorry.” She pulled her hands back to ostensibly look in her purse. Taking out her compact, she checked her face in the mirror. “I’ve been crying so much.”
“You look great, as always,” he said.
The warning bells were going off in Missy’s head. Why was she so adverse to the idea of Aaron? He was nice…
“Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?” he asked.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
How could he know there was more to it?
“I know you’re mourning Karen, but you’re also pissed off about something. I can tell.”
“How?” She laughed, happily surprised by this for some reason.
He tapped the side of his head. “Because I know you, Missy DeMeanor. You do remember I had a crush on you for the longest time.”
Normally a statement like that coming from Aaron would have turned the conversation awkward. But not right now. And part of her was actually sad that this crush had been going on in the past only. What about right now?
“Come on.” He winked. “You can tell me.”
Missy chewed it over. Noreen was her best friend and the person she always went to for advice, but maybe she needed somebody else’s perspective for a change.
So Missy started talking, recounting the same story she’d just shared with the detective in Templeton. Aaron listened attentively, his eyes never wavering
from her. He absorbed every word she spoke.
When she was done, he sat back and raised his eyebrows. “Wow, Miss.”
“What do you think?”
He thought about it. “I think you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.”
She laughed. “What does that mean?”
Somewhere during her story, the waitress had brought her salad and water. She sipped the drink and picked absently at the salad, really having no appetite for it.
“It means, forget what everybody else thinks. What do you think? My father always told me to trust myself, and it was one of the most important things he ever taught me. You’ve got to trust yourself and find your truth.”
Missy had never heard Aaron say anything as profound. Normally he talked about sports, local news, and his favorite hobby: nine-ball tournaments at Shooters.
Aaron leaned in. “Nobody else believed you about Noreen, and look what you did there. You saved your best friend from going to prison.”
Missy blushed. She was uncomfortable with praise, even if deserved. “She would have done the same for me.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But the point is, not a lot of people would have done what you did. You trusted yourself to do the right thing and you did.”
Missy got the urge to take his hands again. They were really nice: big and strong but also soft. His job required him to work with his hands all day…he was probably good with them.
But she kept her hands to herself. She wasn’t thinking clearly right now and mistaking her gratefulness for his company for something else…or was she?
Aaron’s phone buzzed. He quickly checked the text and nodded.
“I’ve got to go.” He stood up and without asking her dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table. “Lunch is on me today.”
“Aaron, no, I can’t—”
He held out a palm. “Get me back some other time. And remember, no matter what happens, I believe in you.”
Her heart swelled and his eyes got watery. “Thanks, Aaron.”
Diet Club Death: Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery #3 (Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries) Page 7
