Nutcase

by Hughes, Charlotte

  He hesitated. “Yeah.”

  “By the way, Mandy called here yesterday, said she was in West Virginia. She wants you to call her back.” I paused. “Frankly, I’m surprised you gave her my phone number and told her we’re divorced.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “And I’m surprised you’d think I did that.”

  The next thing I heard was a dial tone.

  I called my mother. I knew she would be concerned about Jay. “I just heard from Jay,” I said. “He’s fine.” I heard her sigh of relief. I wondered if she was thinking of my father. “So how is Arnie?” I asked.

  “We’re really enjoying having him here,” she said. “He had someone fill in for him at work last night, and he cooked beef Wellington for us. The secret to gourmet cooking is how much booze you put into it,” she said.

  “I didn’t know,” I said. “No wonder everything I cook tastes like crap.”

  “Arnell has decided to stay through the weekend and teach me how to cook some of his prizewinning recipes. And he is so impressed with our junk art.”

  “Everyone is,” I said. “Why do you think decorators are willing to pay so much for it?”

  “What a nice thing to say, Kate. Trixie and I will be in around nine.”

  I hung up. It occurred to me that I hadn’t heard Mike get up and head out her doggie door. I walked into the laundry room and turned on the light. She looked dead to the world. “Get up you lazy, good-for-nothing dog,” I called out cheerfully. She didn’t budge. I walked over to her box and nudged her with my toe. No movement.

  Fear hit me like a brick. “Mike, wake up!” I said loudly, reaching over to shake her. I took solace in the fact that her body was warm and she was breathing. I tried shaking her again. I noticed the plastic bag that had contained Lila’s love treats lying beside her. Only a handful remained. I suddenly remembered I’d left the bag on the coffee table. Mike must’ve seen them and carried the bag to her bed.

  I almost tripped over my own feet as I raced to the phone and dialed Jeff’s number. He answered on the first ring. “Something’s wrong with Mike!” I cried. “I can’t wake her.”

  “Is she breathing?” he asked quickly.

  “Yes, but she’s not responding.”

  “Could she have gotten into something outside? Like a pesticide or—”

  “I don’t see how,” I said. “My backyard is fenced.” I started to cry.

  “I’m on my way to the office now,” he said. “How soon can you be there?”

  “Ten minutes max,” I said, praying I wouldn’t be slowed by traffic.

  I hung up. I raced upstairs, exchanged my PJs for sweats, and shoved my feet into old loafers. Back on the main floor, I grabbed my purse, scooped Mike gently from her bed, and panicked when I found her limp. I scanned the room to see if there was anything she could have gotten into, but all my cleaning supplies were stacked on a shelf above the washer and dryer. I snatched the plastic bag of treats and stuffed it in my purse before running out the door.

  Jeff was standing just outside his office building when I pulled up. He carried Mike from my car to his exam room and shined a light in her eyes as his technician drew blood.

  “I’m giving her vitamin K, which should help in case she has ingested something,” he said. “Dogs will eat anything.”

  I nibbled my bottom lip. “I thought she was acting funny yesterday,” I said.

  “Funny how?” he asked.

  “She was sort of staggering.” I told Jeff what I’d found when I arrived to pick Mike up from her playdate. “I should have brought her in right then,” I said, feeling guilty, “but there was a lot going on at the time.”

  “Did this Claudia person mention giving Mike anything from her holistic medicine bag?” he asked.

  “No. The only thing I’ve fed Mike is the food I purchased here and the dog treats Lila gave me. She calls them Lila’s love treats.” I pulled the plastic bag from my purse. “The bag was full when I went to bed last night. As you can see, Mike pigged out. Maybe she ate too much and it made her sick.”

  Jeff opened the bag and took a whiff. He frowned, pulled out a dog treat, and broke it in half. He sniffed it. Finally, he held the bag to the light. “Damn, Kate, I think these treats contain pot.”

  I felt my jaw drop. “You mean marijuana?” I asked. “How on earth can you tell?”

  “My older brother used to bake brownies made with pot. I remember the smell.” He pointed. “Look, there are even a few seeds at the bottom of the bag.”

  I just looked at him. “You’re saying Mike—”

  “I’m saying your dog is stoned.”

  chapter 10

  I was seething with fury by the time I left Jeff’s office. The blood test had confirmed his suspicion. Luckily, by the time I left, Mike was beginning to come around, but Jeff planned to keep her all day for observation. He assured me she would be okay after she’d slept for a while.

  I drove straight to Lila Higginbothom’s house and pounded on her door. She answered it wearing a bath-robe and pink sponge curlers. I put my finger in her face. “I know what you put in your so-called love treats,” I said. “Mike is detoxing at the vet’s office right now.”

  “Oh dear!” Lila said, the color draining from her cheeks. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Claudia, but Prissy wasn’t eating at the time, and Claudia convinced me that a little marijuana would help with her appetite.” She paused and sucked in air. “I was so concerned about poor Mike that I doubled the amount in the last batch.”

  I shot her my most menacing look. “You had no right!” I yelled. “I trusted you to take good care of her. I thought you were a nice old lady,” I added through gritted teeth.

  “I am a nice old lady!”

  “I should call the cops and have you busted,” I said. “Do you have any idea what they do to nice old ladies in prison?”

  Her eyes widened in fright. “No, what?”

  “I have no idea, but I’m sure it can’t be good.”

  Her hands flew to her chest and she sagged against the door. “Oh dear!” she cried.

  I reached for her. “You’d better not be having a heart attack!”

  “No, I just tinkled in my Depends.”

  “Don’t ever come near me again,” I said. “And don’t ever come near my dog.” I whirled around and headed to my car.

  “Please don’t rat me out to the fuzz,” she called out. “I’m going to flush the marijuana down the toilet right now.”

  I raced home, took a five-minute shower, and dressed quickly. I brushed my lashes with mascara, ran a blusher across my cheeks, and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I arrived at the office in record time and found Mona sitting at the kitchen table in the back sipping a cup of coffee. I was surprised she wasn’t wearing her nurse uniform but didn’t mention it. Instead, I told her about Mike and Lila Higginbothom, as well as Jay’s reaction once I’d told him about the eviction and my decision to share an office with Thad.

  “You’d think he would at least be pleased that it’s a great career opportunity,” she said. “In the meantime, I would call the cops and report that old bag, Lila, for giving Mike pot.”

  “I don’t think she’ll do it again. I think I scared the hell out of her.” I poured a cup of coffee and joined Mona at the table. “By the way, Mandy called me looking for Jay.”

  “What the hell did she want? And why did she call your house?”

  I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “I don’t trust that bitch for one minute.”

  I was surprised at Mona’s harsh tone and wondered if it had to do with her distrust of Liam. I said nothing.

  “Did you tell Jay about the call?”

  “Yeah. The conversation was short but not so sweet.”

  “I hate men,” she said. “Which is why I’ve decided to break it off with Liam,” she added.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on me.”

 
; “I find that hard to believe, Mona. He’s crazy about you.”

  “Or so he says,” she snapped. “He denies having an affair, but I know the signs to look for. I read Cosmo.”

  “What did he do to make you so suspicious?”

  “Like I said, he’s exhausted all the time. He’s too tired for sex, even when I wear my leather outfit. And he is forever canceling dates with me.”

  “He’s a medical student doing his internship, for Pete’s sake,” I reminded her. “Of course he’s tired.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she said. “I hired a private investigator. Last night while Liam was at the hospital, the investigator attached a live GPS beneath his car. I’ll know where he is at all times.”

  I pressed the ball of my hand against my forehead. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I refuse to let him make a fool of me.” Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and ignored it.

  “Is that Liam?”

  “Who else? He’s been calling every hour on the hour. He probably knows I suspect something.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this,” I said. “Is it because he’s younger than you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. But I’ve decided not to go to nursing school after all.”

  “What about your calling? I thought you wanted some kind of purpose.”

  “I’ll find a different cause, but I have no desire to empty bedpans, and I can’t stand the sight of blood.” She shuddered. “No man is worth putting myself through that.”

  My mom and Trixie arrived just as my young ADHD patient and his mother showed up. We spent the next hour going over his progress charts. His teachers, who’d been ready to pull their hair out over his unruly behavior in the beginning, had been so impressed over the changes they’d seen that I’d received a couple of referrals from the school’s guidance counselor.

  I gave myself an imaginary pat on the back as I walked them out. It never failed. Just when I thought I should throw in the towel and find a new career, one of my patients had a breakthrough or a small success and I felt good that I had played a part in it.

  I found my mom and aunt finishing up the last of the packing in my supply room. “Is there any news on Arnie’s father?” I asked.

  “He’s better,” my mother said. “I guess doctors can repair a person’s heart easily enough, but they can’t fill it with love.”

  “Oh, that just gave me goose pimples,” Mona said, rubbing her arms briskly.

  My mother looked smug. “I can be deep like that.”

  “Any calls?” I asked Mona, hoping one of them might be from Jay.

  “You had a call from a Dr. James Hudson,” she told me, handing me my phone messages. “He said it was urgent that he see you today. I scheduled him to come in right after Alice Smithers.”

  I didn’t recognize the name. “Did he say what it was about?”

  “Nope. Only that it was of the utmost importance.”

  My mother looked eager. “Did you purchase a lottery ticket or respond to an online survey?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’ll bet I know what it’s about,” Trixie said. “The bowling alley was raffling off a beautiful red bowling ball, and I filled out a card for everyone. I’ll bet you won!”

  I looked from my mother to my aunt and wondered what it must feel like to live in their world. Then, noting their lively expressions, I decided it must be pretty fantastic.

  Alice Smithers showed up at noon, prompt as usual. I was surprised to find her wearing makeup, fashionable eyeglasses, and an attractive business suit. I wondered if Emily had been in charge of choosing the outfit. I knew Liz Jones had not selected it; it was far too tame.

  “You look very nice today,” I said.

  She smiled. “Remember the guy I mentioned who works in purchasing and has been so nice to me?”

  I had vague memories of the conversation. With Alice I was so accustomed to dealing with alter personalities that I was thrown off guard when we discussed someone who didn’t actually live in her head. “What about him?” I asked.

  “He asked me out.”

  “What did you say?”

  Alice gave me an odd look. “I can’t possibly go out with him,” she said, “so I told him I was already involved with someone. I really like him, which is why I spent half the night crying.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “You have to ask? What if he met Liz and figured he could get laid?”

  “You just said he was a nice guy,” I told her. “Liz isn’t exactly into nice guys, and she would be bored in an accounting office.”

  “I can’t take the chance. I’m sort of down in the dumps about it,” she said. “I’ve always dreamed of getting married and having a family, but what man would want to get involved with someone like me? And who could blame him?”

  “You’re getting better every day, Alice.” She didn’t look convinced. “How have your sessions with Dr. Glazer been going?”

  “I’m not usually present for those. I think that’s when Liz chooses to come out. If that’s the case, Lord only knows what he thinks of me.”

  I already knew that Liz was the major personality in the sessions with Thad. I also knew she didn’t wear underwear because Thad complained about it constantly. Under any other circumstances, he would have loved it, but he didn’t appreciate it in his patients, and he’d told Liz to clean up her act or else. Whatever that meant.

  “Dr. Glazer wouldn’t judge you because of Liz’s behavior.”

  Again, Alice looked doubtful.

  “Would you mind if I spoke with Sue?” I asked. “She can probably give me more information as to what’s been going on with the others.”

  Alice shrugged. “Sure.” She went still for a few seconds, and I noted the subtle changes that took place in her demeanor. Since Sue had 20/20 vision, she removed the eyeglasses. I was about to speak to her when, suddenly, I saw another change. The person on the sofa slumped and leaned forward, elbows on knees.

  “Sue?” I asked.

  “I’m not Sue,” a voice said.

  It was a male voice.

  I tried not to act surprised, even though he’d caught me off guard. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said evenly.

  “I know who you are,” he told me.

  He had a Southern twang. “Would you mind introducing yourself?” I asked.

  “Alice used to call me Alley Cat,” he said.

  “That’s an unusual nickname.”

  “I kilt cockroaches for her. That was a long time back. We were just young’uns. I use to call her Scaredy Cat because she was scart of creepy crawlin’ thangs.”

  His accent was hard to understand. “So, you’ve been around for a while,” I said. “Why have we never met?”

  He shrugged. “I ain’t felt much like talkin’.”

  “I haven’t seen any entries from you in the journal, either,” I added.

  “I ain’t felt like writin’. Besides, I ain’t a good speller.”

  “How old were you when you met Alice?” I asked.

  “We were both five years old. When Alice got really scart, I helped out. She probably don’t ’member. You ask me, at’s a good thang.”

  “What made her so afraid?”

  “That bitch mother of hers. ’At woman was a good-fer-nuthin’ drunk. Always whorin’ around. She did a lot of waitress work at truck stops ’cause she had a thang for truckers. She’d do okay fer a while, then she’d lay out drunk fer a few days, get fired, and we’d move on. Always lived on the run, you know? Lived in a lot of dumps,” he added. “Like white trash.”

  I dreaded what I might hear next. “Did any of the truck drivers hurt Alice?”

  “Naw, it was that bitch Carmen. The mother,” he added. “She had unusual punishments if Alice didn’t do ’xactly as she was told. Like lock her in a closet.”

  I listened, but I had to be careful about getting too close to the pictures in my head. Nobody w
ants to think about a young child being abused, not even me, and that’s my job.

  He crossed his arms. “Only sometimes Carmen’d get drunk and ferget Alice was in there. Like fer a couple of days. Alice tried so hard not to pee her britches, you know, ’cause Carmen would go into a fit. She hit Alice lots. I would’a kilt Carmen if I could have,” he added bitterly.

  “But you were only five years old,” I reminded him gently. “Children should not have to defend themselves from their parents. Alice was lucky to have someone in there with her,” I said. “You’ve been with her ever since?”

  “We growed up together, but I don’t come ’round much now that Carmen is outta the picture.” He looked me square in the eye. “That’s ’bout all I gots to say, but I thought you should know.”

  And then he was gone.

  Dr. James Hudson was waiting in the reception room as I led Alice out. He looked to be in his early sixties. He had thinning gray hair, slightly bulging eyes, and was impeccably dressed in a suit that was of the same caliber as the ones Thad wore. I led him inside my office, invited him to sit on my sofa, and took the chair beside him. He looked around. I could tell he was not impressed. “You’ll have to excuse all the boxes,” I said. “I’m in the process of moving.”

  “I can’t say I blame you,” he replied.

  I thought the remark rude, but I ignored it. “How may I help you?” I asked, using my Dr. Laura Schlessinger voice.

  He handed me his business card. “I’m a practicing psychiatrist, licensed in the state of Vermont. I’m here on behalf of a patient. Your colleague, Dr. Thad Glazer, admitted her to the psychiatric unit a few days ago. She was using the name Marie Osmond.”

  “Oh?” I said, trying to remain professional, which meant it was unethical for me to tell him Thad and I were treating a patient or even knew the person. At the same time, I felt contempt for the man. He had been responsible for drugging Elizabeth Larkin and stealing a large chunk of her life.

  “I attempted to reach Dr. Glazer this morning,” he went on, “but I understand he is on the golf course and isn’t answering his cell phone. Frankly, I find that disconcerting.”