Deadly Diet Read online

  2

  Even though the meeting was over, I waited until the clock read ten before I decided to push past the line of women at the table. I had to start this time. I had to at least try.

  Maybe if I did the diet for more than a day or two, I could succeed and lose more weight than just water weight. What I wouldn’t give to lose inches around my thighs, hips, and waist. Maybe even my arms, oh, and my face.

  I ducked down, grabbing my small tote of the month and jammed my new prison of a journal into a side pocket. When I said small tote, I meant a travel-sized diaper bag. They have more pockets than most bags which made me very happy. If it has a pocket, it brings me joy. That’s all that mattered to me, to be honest.

  “I need to get home. I’ll call you later.” I smiled stiffly at Mom, but she got it. I didn’t want to be “consoled” by Jessie and I didn’t need Aunt Rikki asking me what my weight was. Again. I mean, isn’t it obvious in the size of my hips I’m not losing?

  I couldn’t obsess about it, not like I wanted to. I pushed out the tinted glass door and shaded my eyes at the sudden brightness. Spring in the northwest was cranky with its sporadic storms and turbulent sunshine. I got sunburned standing by the kitchen window last week!

  Aaron, the love of my life, waited at home so we could all work in the garden together. He was only home for two more days and I wanted to take advantage of every minute I could with him. Plus, I didn’t know if my weight gain was because of eating or the stress of being at the diet meetings. Even though I liked going to them, my attitude about them was usually dependent on what the scale said at the beginning.

  Blinking, I shaded my eyes with my hand flattened above my eyebrows and I scanned the lot. I could never remember where I parked.

  Debra’s lime green Volkswagen took up the space next to my Honda Civic Hybrid. The dark blue paint reflected the sun through the patches and spots of mud decorating the sides. I lived on a two-mile dirt road and March was not known for being dry.

  Wait a minute, Debra hadn’t been inside. She won the gift card, too.

  I peered closer, stepping toward our cars as I walked. Her window was partially down and I could see her silhouette in the front seat. I raised my hand, smiling. “Debra! Hey! What are you doing out here? You missed the awards. You won. I don’t mind telling you I’m jealous.” My voice trailed off as I realized she wasn’t moving or acknowledging my approach in any way.

  Ducking down to see her better through the glare on her window, I studied the blue tinge to her lips and the pale waxy complexion of her skin. Her travel mug sat between her knees and vomit colored the front of her yellow and white blouse, sticking it to her skin in spots.

  “Debra?” My voice dropped to a whisper. Was she hung over or something? I didn’t think she drank alcohol, but who knows with anyone anymore. A sinking sensation in my stomach whispered to me that she was worse off than just hungover.

  The door opened again to the club building and a group of women spilled out.

  “Hey, Bonnie! I thought you left. Is that Debra?” Leave it to Jessie to see me. She was probably looking for the chance to say something about my weight being up.

  I reached into the opening and slowly prodded Debra’s shoulder, but it didn’t recoil the way I expected it to. Backing up, I called over my shoulder, “I think she’s dead.” There was significant question in my voice or more likely hope I was wrong.

  Penny and Grandma appeared beside me as if they raced to get there. Penny narrowed her eyes as she inspected the scene, taking in the refillable coffee cup by Debra. “Oh, she drinks coffee from the Crank Brothers? I hate those guys. They don’t put enough whipped cream on the mochas.”

  My jaw dropped and I glanced in Penny’s direction, my brow furrowed. “Seriously, that’s what you’re worried about right now? Whipped cream?”

  At least Penny had the tact to look embarrassed – that was a first.

  Grandma studied Debra while a crowd gathered behind us. Grandma didn’t say anything.

  “I knew she was going to die, there was a ring around Saturn last night.” Jessie’s voice grated on my nerves. She pushed at my back to see better. In fact, about seven women tried to see around me, but I have size on my side and they weren’t going to see anything I wasn’t ready for them to see.

  “I bet she’s faking it. Tell her she won and she’ll snap right out of it.” Was that Candy’s voice?

  Aunt Holly cut her off. “Why would she die in the parking lot? This place is gross.”

  Penny pressed against my side, nudging me back. I widened my eyes and almost said something as she reached in and pushed her fingers against Debra’s neck. “Should we do CPR?” She looked over her shoulder at me, her dark brown curls swinging back down her shoulders. She looked more concerned than I thought possible. She wasn’t my most empathetic relative. Right then, though, while we were in the presence of death, we both couldn’t help the memory of being there while our great-grandma passed away. We’d been teenagers, but the memory was still fresh in our minds.

  I swallowed, blinking rapidly at being put on the spot. “It’s been forever since I took my last class.” Plus, my focus had been on infant and child first aid, not adult with throw up all over her.

  Grandma harrumphed from the passenger seat. When had she slipped in there?

  She climbed out and slammed the door. Rounding the hood, she ignored the collective looks of astonishment and relative stillness of the group. I couldn’t believe she’d climbed into the car with Debra’s dead body.

  As if she didn’t care who was around, Grandma lifted her wrist with its dainty silver watch and pearl-shell face. In a loud voice, she declared, “Time of death, ten-fourteen.” If it was possible, we grew even more quiet.

  Glancing out of the corner of my eye toward Mom, who hadn’t stopped staring at Debra, I bit my lip. I was gutsy but not enough to question Grandma out loud.

  Aunt Holly opened her morning flask and tipped it back. She shook her head as she lowered it and swallowed a gulp with a grimace. “You’re not a doctor, Mom. You can’t just say when she died.” She rolled her eyes and then glanced at Grandma’s face. Judging by the way she shifted in place and took a shuddering breath, she realized she’d started drinking too soon. Alcohol tended to loosen her inhibitions which wasn’t good around her mother.

  Thrusting her hand on a hip, Grandma narrowed her eyes at her oldest daughter and tucked her chin. Her tight, blonde-dyed curls moved with her head and not in the breeze. “Says who? I’d like to know why you think I’m not qualified? I was a nurse, bam – close enough. Call 911, they’ll tell you the same thing. I just did the job for free.” She folded her arms and challenged any of us to argue with her, eyeing us with piercing blue eyes I didn’t have the mental capacity to say anything against.

  You could see in the tilt of Holly’s head that she wanted to revive Debra just to prove her mother wrong. I think a good portion of the crowd wanted the same thing.

  Someone had called 911 because sirens wailed through the Saturday morning air. With spring there and most of the snow dirtily clumped to the sides of the curbs and roads, it was hard to believe we were still experiencing freezing temperatures at night.

  I stepped out of the way, standing on a crunchy pile of gravel-filled icy snow and let Grandma take over the scene. An ambulance pulled into the lot, blue and red lights blinking as if to compete with the sunlight. Grandma bustled about, directing the EMTs and the paramedics on how to get to Debra and what she had deduced.

  Standing on the curb of the building beside my mom and the other women of the group and rubbed at my arms. Small goosebumps had shown up. Even if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t. My car was blocked in. I’d have to wait a little bit longer. Maybe they’d let me dart out before the tow-truck hooked up to take her car.

  The group murmured worriedly as the EMTs claimed Debra’s body. We moved as a crowd back into the club office and stood there with our arms crossed over our waists, staring at each othe
r. The all-consuming quiet was unnerving, but no one dared to break the silence, as if it would be rude to Debra or something.

  We didn’t need Grandma’s declaration to tell us Debra was dead, but ignoring the situation and leaving the immediate scene helped us pretend she wasn’t out in the ambulance getting ready to drive away.

  My phone buzzed in my bag. “Oh, thank Heaven.” I muttered and turned from the group, pushing my head into the corner of the room for some privacy. I didn’t want to stare into anyone else’s confused gaze when I didn’t have any answers myself. The screen showed me Aaron’s goofy smile. I swiped the green icon up and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hi, hon, sorry. One of… I mean, well, Debra is dead. I’ll be home soon.” I mean, how did I tell him over the phone that I was the one who had found her?

  Over-thinking it would make me sick and I wasn’t ready to face nausea right then.

  “Ah, I’m sorry. That’s rough. I was just calling to see if you could pick up some of that pizza I like so much on your way home? I don’t want to deal with cooking anything tonight.” He didn’t understand that she had died right outside the club because I hadn’t bothered telling him. I wasn’t ready to get into the details right then.

  Plus, his mention of a pizza was all the incentive I needed. Emotionally, I needed a slice of the 7-pound behemoth that he loved from the local pizza place. I might have to get a pizza for me.

  I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. His voice comforted me and I held onto the normalcy of it a while longer. I cleared my throat. “You bet. I’ll see you in a bit.” We hung up and I hiked my bag up higher on my shoulder. Tracking would have to start the next day. The pizza wasn’t the lowest in calories and I was in shock or something.

  Debra and I hadn’t been close, but I’d known her. That was enough to startle me with the find.

  Mom wrapped her arm around my shoulders and murmured, “I’m sorry. That sucks.” She fell silent a moment, the sniffing from a few of the group members loud in the stark quiet. After a moment, she leaned her forehead against mine. “We need to call Debra’s mom or her husband or someone.”

  I nodded, aware that it would be me. Mom hated making phone calls. I’d always had to call and schedule my own doctor appointments – even as a young child. Calling Debra’s family would be something that would fall to me. We couldn’t let the police do it. That would be discourteous in the small town we were in and the fact that she was a part of our small community.

  Pulling my phone back out, I pulled up the Foodie-Fools phone app, using the phone book icon to access the membership directory. Scrolling through the list of names of people I knew and others who had signed up but hadn’t come in or who were doing the online version, I found Debra’s contact information. Her husband’s number was under hers.

  I glanced at my mom and she nodded, waiting for me to do follow through. I didn’t mind calling people and she knew it. Swallowing, I pushed call and as the phone rang, I realized I’d forgotten what her husband’s name was. My eyes widened as someone picked up the phone on the other end.

  “Hello?” A woman answered? I didn’t understand.

  Shaking my head, I fumbled through the call. “Um, yes, hello. I’m calling for Debra’s husband,” I even forgot her last name! “I need to speak with him immediately.”

  “I’m sorry. He’s in the shower, right now. Can I take a message?” Was that smugness in the woman’s voice? Why was there a woman at Debra’s house while her husband was taking a shower?

  I didn’t have a message, but I needed to know who was answering the phone. “Can you let him know Bonnie called from Debra’s diet group, please. I’m sorry, what was your name?” When I wanted something, the bluntest way was usually the best way to get it.

  “Lavender, dear. I’ll let my son know you called. Thank you.” The woman hung up before I could thank her. I had to be wrong about the smugness. What did I think was going on? Debra’s husband was cheating on her or something?

  Debra had adored her mother-in-law. Who wouldn’t? Lavender had the grace of a princess. The few of us who had met her when she’d visited the group with Debra once had felt like they were in the presence of celebrity royalty – at least on a local level.

  Shaking my head to my mom, I put the cell away again and whispered, “Lavender answered.” I nodded when Mom’s mouth formed an O. “Yeah, exactly.” There was no way I could be the one to let Lavender know about Debra’s death. Telling the husband was one thing, but telling a woman like Lavender was outside of my capabilities.

  After the EMTs loaded Debra into the ambulance, they turned off the blue and red lights and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Rejoining the group in the club foyer, Grandma smugly glanced at Holly and wiggled her fingers at the group. “Everything is taken care of. Bon, you can get your car out. I’ll see you guys next week.”

  Without sirens meant there was nothing they could do for the patient. Smug was a shade that looked good on Grandma.

  3

  The drive home took a while but I pulled into our driveway in time for a late lunch. Bouncing from the low seat, I scanned the wraparound porch for any sign of the kiddoes but I couldn’t see them.

  The quiet engine of the hybrid didn’t make a big enough sound to let anyone know I was home. I had no doubt they would have swarmed me, if they’d known I was there.

  We lived at the end of a dirt road where our gravel driveway curved around and disappeared from street view. A loop provided an island of woods and large rocks further hiding the house from sight of passersby.

  Parked north of the house, our cars were protected from sun by the house’s shadow and multiple bull pine trees towering around the periphery of the clearing. A greenhouse manned the walkway around the west side of the house and a wraparound deck skirted the bottom level of the Craftsman-style home.

  I sighed, pausing for a second in front of my home. I loved it. Genuinely loved the place my husband and I had found for our own. Cream vinyl-siding and white trim with green-black roofing always made me feel like I was staring at a cake house or a gingerbread home. It made sense that I felt I lived in food.

  Past the driveway loop we had a shed that housed the toys and extra tools. By the front, a white pine tree stood guard over a water spigot. Movement pulled my eye past the tree and I grinned at the sight of Aaron with his similarities to Viggo Mortenson and Clint Eastwood’s son covered in a bee suit but with bared arms. Sunlight glinted off his golden skin and the blond hair on his forearms.

  I traipsed across the yard and grinned as I got close. “Hey, handsome. Whatcha doin’?” We’d been together almost twenty years and I never got bored. I didn’t understand what he saw in me – part of the reason I was convinced he was going to leave me someday.

  He leaned over, kissing me full on the lips through the bee mesh of his hood. “Hey, you. I’m checking for yellow jacket nests again. Ryder was stung three times this morning.” He paused as I moaned sympathetically. The bees in the woods were out of control. He continued, “I promised them a hive bonfire after dinner.” My husband’s fiercely protective side concerning our children always made me fall a little further in love with him.

  Pulling the hood off and setting the gloves beside the hood on the tongue of the pontoon boat protruding from the shed, Aaron offered me his elbow. “So, tell me about your meeting. You sounded really down. Did you hit your goal?”

  All of my goals and secrets and failures and weaknesses were in full disclosure to my husband. Falling into step beside him, I sighed. “Debra died in the parking lot.” I tried smiling to keep it light, but it really had shaken me up and I didn’t have to hide it around Aaron. Never around him.

  Aaron’s step faltered, but he recovered and studied me from the corner of his eye – trying not to seem like he was checking me over. “She died in the parking lot? I didn’t realize.” He draped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as we walked. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,
I just wish I knew what happened.” I wasn’t attached to Debra with sentiment or anything. I barely knew her. She was closer to my mom’s age. Plus, she seemed desperate to lose weight at the expense of just about anything.

  I liked pizza more than I liked size ten. Yeah, I had problems. I avoided telling Aaron that I’d been the one to find Debra. I wasn’t ready to face that fact yet.

  In silence, we rounded the corner of the house and headed across the green well-maintained lawn – yay, hubby! – and approached the ambitious garden my husband put in the year before with brick-red posts that reached into the sky by eight feet and down into the ground four. The fencing surrounded a garden that was fifty feet by a hundred feet.

  We had planted raised beds spaced apart by four feet so we could fit the lawn mower between the boxes. Aaron talked often about putting in bark between the boxes so he didn’t have to mow, but we hadn’t made that commitment yet.

  Early March and we still had patches of islands of snow since we were located smack dab in the middle of a snow belt. That didn’t keep the kids from playing outside in t-shirts and shorts. They’d been waiting all winter for shorts weather. The fifty-two-degree weather was exactly what we were all waiting for.

  “Mom’s home!” Ryder stood, dirt smudged on his cheeks and forehead, blending the line of his dark hair that enhanced the blue of his eyes.

  I smiled and waved, narrowing my gaze at the sight of loppers in his hands. What did the four-year-old have to do with a pair of pruning shears?

  “Hi, Mom!” David called out, brandishing a hatchet covered in dirt into the air. My new hatchet, I’d just gotten for my birthday?

  I blinked. Glancing at Aaron, I worked my mouth for a minute before anything came out. “Are they digging in the dirt with loppers and a hatchet?” It had to be a joke. I had three pairs of blue long-handled pruning shears and I could see blue handles in Ryder, Andrew, and Matthew’s hands. My stomach clenched. We had the worst dirt after the first foot of amended soil on top. Out of the side of my mouth, I muttered, “You’re buying me new loppers.”