A Deadly Business (A Mia Quinn Mystery)

by Lis Wiehl

  Gabe refused to be mollified. “How many times have you lectured me that I can’t just do things without thinking, that I have to check with you first? But now you just go and make some decision that’s going to change all of our lives forever.” His tone suggested that Mia was clearly stupid as well as a hypocrite. “And that’s not fair to me or Brooke.”

  Brooke looked from one of them to the other. “What’s not fair? Don’t get pepperoni! I told you!”

  “Don’t worry, Brooke, I’m not,” she said distractedly. And then to Gabe, “I don’t think it’s going to make any difference to your sister.” Although really she had no idea.

  The thing was, Gabe was right. Mia hadn’t thought this through. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so impulsive. Ever since Scott died, she had worried about the many changes happening in her kids’ lives. Scott dead, Mia back at work, Brooke in preschool, and Gabe turned into a live-in babysitter. Now, simply because she had put herself in another person’s shoes, had she just added to her kids’ burden? But how could she see someone who was hurting even worse than she was and not want to help?

  “I’m not a kid anymore,” Gabe said through gritted teeth, “but you’re still treating me like one. I’m only a kid when you want to tell me what to do and tell me what to eat and when to go to bed and who not to hang out with. Or when you want to make important decisions that affect me without even asking me. The rest of the time you want me to be a grown-up, to clean and cook and watch after Brooke like I’m some kind of stay-at-home dad. But I’m only fourteen. None of my friends have to think about stuff like that.”

  Why couldn’t Gabe see that they were still blessed beyond belief?

  “You saw those pictures your grandpa sent from the mission trip he’s on in Guatemala. Those kids with no shoes, playing with a soccer ball made of old T-shirts. There are millions of kids in this world who are married off by your age or sewing in sweatshops or working in the fields.”

  “But we’re not in Guatemala, are we? We’re in Seattle. And that’s not how kids live here.”

  “You think so? Earlier this week I saw a really little kid changing an even littler kid’s diaper. And they were in an apartment with no electricity, which means no light and no heat. I’m not even sure they had food.”

  “Oh, so why didn’t you invite them to come live with us?”

  Seven months ago she would never have stood for Gabe talking back to her. But he was no longer a mouthy kid—or not just a mouthy kid. He had earned the right to have an opinion, even if Mia had the final say.

  “I did call someone to check on them. Honestly, Gabe, I don’t understand why this is so upsetting to you. I thought Eldon was one of your best friends. But you’re acting like I invited in some homeless guy off the street.” She walked into the kitchen, Gabe following. “After all, half of what I saw in that garage seemed to have come from our house.” But then the charity had been on his terms, using things Mia had bought. The personal sacrifice had been minimal. This would mean sharing 150 square feet with another person. A boy who weighed a hundred pounds more than he did. She took the Pagliacci menu from the fridge. “What kind of pizza do you want?”

  Gabe’s mouth twisted. “Pepperoni.”

  It was true that having to share would impact all of them, Mia thought as she dialed the number and ordered, reciting her address automatically. Nearly twice as many people in the same space. All of them having to negotiate who got to shower first. Would Mia now be responsible for purchasing and preparing food—or at least ordering pizza—for all of them? Would she need to partition off the refrigerator or come up with some system of color coding? What if Eldon did something she didn’t approve of? She thought of the times she had seen him with red, sleepy-looking eyes. What if he smoked pot? Or drank?

  And then there was Kali. They would all witness Kali getting sicker. Maybe even watch her die.

  As she hung up the phone, Gabe echoed her thoughts. “What happens if Eldon’s mom dies? Are you saying he’ll live with us for always?”

  “It’s way too early to go there, Gabe. I want to help them. It’s the right thing to do. I think you know it too.”

  “He’s going to have to take the bottom bunk.”

  Gabe slept on the top one anyway. “That’s fine,” Mia said.

  “And what you call the guest room is more like the junk room. I don’t see how she can stay in there.”

  Mia went down the hall and opened the door. Gabe followed. He was right. The sewing machine was set up on a card table heaped with mending that needed to be done. More mending dangled from an Exercycle in the corner that she hadn’t used in months. On the bed were clothes she planned to take to the dry cleaner, as well as wrapping paper, ribbons, tax records, and a few of Brooke’s stuffed animals.

  “You’re right. It’s a mess. Can you help me clean it out tonight?”

  Gabe was not letting go. “This is all because of Grandpa, isn’t it? You feel guilty because we don’t ever go to church anymore.”

  The sad thing was, Gabe was the only one of her kids who had memories of going to church regularly at all. Over time, Scott and Mia had gotten to the point that they barely qualified as chreasters—the people who attended only at Christmas and Easter. The last time any of them had been to the church they nominally belonged to was Scott’s funeral.

  “That’s an interesting theory, Gabe. But I don’t think I’m doing it out of guilt. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do, and I was moved to do it.”

  “Does this have anything to do with Dad?” His voice thickened and caught. “With trying to prove you’re better than him?”

  Mia’s head jerked back. “What? Where did that come from?”

  “I heard you guys downstairs on Monday. You and Charlie.”

  “What did you hear?”

  With a wince, Gabe turned away. “Enough.”

  CHAPTER 51

  SATURDAY

  The machines were the only things keeping Tamsin alive. Breathing for her. Monitoring her. Putting drugs and saline into her veins. Pumping nutrition through a tube that ran into her nose and down into her stomach. Taking away her waste products.

  His wife had once been so beautiful. Now her beauty had fled. Her face was swollen and grotesque, shades of purple and yellow and green. Half her gorgeous hair was gone, her scalp stubbled like a man three days past a shave. Blood and other secretions matted what was left.

  But it was the hole at the base of her throat that drew his eye, an obscene second mouth that now held the tracheotomy tube.

  As Wade Merritt watched, Tamsin’s real lips drew together. Her brow wrinkled. It looked like she was in pain, despite all the drugs they were pumping into her.

  And suppose she did wake up? How much more pain would she be in when they started trying to make her relearn the basics? How to feed herself. How to toilet herself, as they termed it. She might not even be able to walk. Or talk. Or even know who she was. It would be like having a toddler again, only one that would probably never grow up. Lingering on and on. For years. Maybe decades.

  Before the accident, he had been willing to put up with her recent enthusiasm for helping the poor and downtrodden. People who weren’t smart enough not to make bad choices, not to continually fall back into trouble. Look at Tamsin—she had made something of herself, gone to college, married him. So why did she feel this need to turn back, to reach out her hand and drag someone else who was less worthy up to her level?

  She had told him she felt guilty, but that certainly didn’t make any sense. She said she had been given so much, which was a crock. She hadn’t been given anything. They hadn’t been given anything. He had worked to make their dreams come true.

  And that work meant long hours and frequent travel. Now he would need to hire someone to watch her and take care of her needs. Hire a team of people, not only to care for her, but for the house and for Luke.

  As Wade looked down at her, he imagined their future. She would never again greet
him to ask about his day, rub his shoulders, bring him a Tanqueray and tonic with a fresh slice of lime. She would probably never see the second floor of their house again. He pictured the wheelchair ramp that would have to be installed, like a mongrel’s unfurled black tongue, marring the facade of their beautiful home. Pictured the constant presence of a nurse and probably a housekeeper. There would never be any privacy. Every word overheard, every sight observed, every slight noted. Always someone judging him from behind a professionally blank expression.

  But you didn’t get to be as successful as Wade was if you weren’t willing to break a few eggs. To make the hard decisions. To know when to cut your losses.

  Only what would he look like if he divorced her? Even if he put Tamsin in the most expensive of nursing homes, he already knew the answer. People would whisper about him behind his back. He would be called cold. Callous. Heartless. He would not be seen as someone you could trust. And in his line of work, it was all about trust. Money was even more important than life and death.

  But if he were a widower? Everyone would rally around, try to cheer him up, talk about how brave he was to soldier on. They would fall over themselves trying to help.

  When you added it all up, wouldn’t it be better for all of them if she died? Better even for Tamsin? He was sure she wouldn’t want to live like this, lingering in some half-life. And Luke needed a mother who could care for him. Not some crippled thing that would be a drain on all of them. He looked down at the shell on the bed, this poor facsimile of his wife. Tamsin wasn’t even here anymore. All he was left with was this grotesque sack of flesh that couldn’t even breathe on its own but was still determined to drag him down too. Him and Luke. But Wade wouldn’t let it.

  His anger fueled him, made it easier to do what needed to be done. Tamsin had changed. He had been willing to overlook that. Willing to take his discreet pleasures elsewhere. Willing to listen to her natter on about the kind of example they were setting for Luke.

  But then those kids at the mall had done this thing to her, left her so broken, left Wade with no other choice. They were making him do this.

  He had spent enough time by her side, wondering just how long this could go on, that he had learned a little bit about what all the equipment did. Every time the heart monitor sounded an alarm, the nurses would just turn down the volume. So now Wade did it himself. Then he knelt by her bedside, positioning himself so that he was between her and the camera on the wall. The feed from each room’s camera was displayed at the nurses’ station in one of a series of tiny squares on a monitor.

  “Things weren’t perfect between us, darling,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry for that.” He unclipped the pulse oximeter from her finger and clipped it onto his own, then glanced up at the monitor. His pulse was a steady 62. Having that home gym installed had paid off.

  There were still the five leads glued to her chest, but with the alarm turned down, no one would hear when it sounded.

  With his free hand, he pulled the tracheotomy tube loose, as he had seen the nurses do for a few seconds to suction mucous out of her throat.

  There. Her chest no longer moved. With no air being pushed into her lungs, she should be gone in a minute or two. He would wait until he was sure, then put the tube back in, return the monitor to her finger, and call for help.

  Only she wasn’t quite dead yet. The hair rose on the back of his neck as he watched her.

  Tamsin opened her mouth wide. The cords in her neck stood out like wires under her skin. All from some futile, primitive effort to breathe.

  It was horrible. He did not want to do this. She was making him do this. Her mouth opening and closing like a fish’s. Why couldn’t she just go quietly? Hiding her face with his upper body, he covered the hole in her throat with his palm. With the other, he pinched her nostrils between his fingers and covered her mouth with his palm.

  He was doing her a mercy.

  He would want the same if it were him.

  CHAPTER 52

  Mia slowly turned her head from side to side, trying to ease the kink in her neck. Then she bent over the scratch paper on which she was writing her grocery list. She had spent the morning helping Kali and Eldon pack up and then ferrying their belongings over. Now everyone was more or less settled. Kali was taking a nap, and Gabe had gone out for a run.

  Eldon had turned out to be even bigger than Mia remembered. Maybe she should just buy everything she normally did, only at three times the quantity. But she had no idea what he and Kali liked to eat.

  She went upstairs. The door to Gabe’s room was ajar. She heard voices speaking a language that wasn’t English. But she was sure Eldon was alone. Maybe he had called someone and was using the speakerphone. But one voice sounded mechanical. It was reciting a string of syllables. Then Eldon repeated what the first voice had said.

  Her curiosity got the better of her. Rapping lightly on the door, she called out, “Eldon?”

  “Yeah? Come on in.”

  Eldon was sitting at Gabe’s desk with his cell phone in front of him.

  “Oh, sorry, are you on the phone?” Mia was already backing out.

  “No, it’s okay. I’m practicing talking to my grandma.”

  Which just raised more questions. Mia settled on the first one. “Why do you have to practice?”

  “I talk to her every Sunday. She likes it if I speak Samoan with her, but since I don’t speak it that much, I’m not that good. But there’s this app I got on my phone. You can speak in English to it and it will say it back in Samoan. I use it to practice stuff I want to say to her, especially if I don’t know all the words.” He handed her the phone. “Try it.”

  The phone was in landscape mode. On one side it read English, on the other Samoan. In the middle was a large pink button.

  “Press the button before you start speaking and then when you’re done.”

  Mia pressed the button. “This is cool,” she said. “But does it really work?” She pressed the button again.

  Detecting language appeared at the top, and then her words showed up on the left-hand side of the screen. After another few seconds more words showed up on the Samoan side. Only now she couldn’t read them. A mechanical voice spoke the syllables.

  “There’re apps for all different kinds of languages,” Eldon said.

  A light bulb went on for Mia. “What about Chinese?”

  “Oh sure, there must be. Probably more than one. Way more people speak Chinese than speak Samoan.”

  Apps could do so many things. Say where Gabe was. Pick out a good restaurant. Catch her up on the news. Tell what the weather would be tomorrow. And maybe figure out exactly what sort of help Scott had promised the dishwasher at the Jade Kitchen.

  After talking to Eldon for a few more minutes, Mia went back downstairs and picked up her own phone. She typed in Chinese-English translation in the app search bar. A half dozen choices appeared. Speak a sentence and hear the translation! read the first one. Requires active Internet connection to work.

  After clicking to download it, she went back to her grocery list and added coconut milk, pineapple, and green bananas—all requests she had gotten from Eldon. Her phone rang.

  “Guess who’s just been charged with attempted murder?” Charlie asked without preamble.

  “Who?”

  “Wade Merritt.”

  “Oh no!” Her heart seized. “Did he go after one of the boys?” At least Charlie had said “attempted.” So Wade must not have succeeded.

  “No. His wife. He tried to kill Tamsin this morning.”

  The idea made Mia recoil. “What?”

  “He’s claiming it was supposed to be a mercy killing, that they had had a pact that if either of them was incapacitated, the other would be there to pull the plug. Only in this case it was her ventilator tube. Before he took that out, he disconnected some of her monitors or hooked them up to himself. Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for Tamsin, he didn’t realize that the ventilator also has an ala
rm that has a bit of a delay. The doctor who responded held him until hospital security could get there, and then they called the cops.”

  “So did he do any damage?”

  “As far as they can tell, he didn’t do any more damage. She was only without oxygen for a minute or so. Now they’re actually beginning to try to bring her out of her coma and wean her off the ventilator. So time will tell.”

  “What a mess. Poor Luke.” Her heart broke for him. “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “Tamsin’s mother was already staying in a motel nearby. I guess she’s gonna move in with the kid until things are settled.”

  How could things ever be settled, with his mother in a hospital bed and his father in jail? Mia was just thankful he had someone else to turn to.

  “Speaking of settled, what are you doing tonight, Charlie? Want to take a little field trip with me to settle what Scott was really up to?”

  “Where to?”

  “Back to the Jade Kitchen in Coho City. I think I’ve figured out how to talk to the dishwasher.”

  “You found someone who speaks Chinese?”

  “In a way,” Mia said. “I downloaded a translation app onto my phone. You can talk into it in English and it says the words in Chinese.”

  “They have those?”

  She felt briefly superior, even if she hadn’t known any different herself an hour ago. “Yup.”

  The smells behind Jade Kitchen’s Dumpsters were so strong Mia felt like she could chew them. Overlaying the sweetish stench of rotting food was the reek of oil that had been used a thousand times. Used until it burned, then used some more until it went rancid, and then used until it was a black sludge before finally being discarded.