Dead Weight
Table of Contents
A Selection of Recent Titles by Susan Rogers Cooper
A Selection of Recent Titles by Susan Rogers Cooper
The E J Pugh Mysteries
ONE, TWO, WHAT DID DADDY DO?
HICKORY DICKORY STALK
HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN
THERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL
A CROOKED LITTLE HOUSE
NOT IN MY BACK YARD
DON’T DRINK THE WATER
ROMANCED TO DEATH *
FULL CIRCLE *
DEAD WEIGHT *
The Milt Kovak Series
THE MAN IN THE GREEN CHEVY
HOUSTON IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR
OTHER PEOPLE’S HOUSES
CHASING AWAY THE DEVIL
DEAD MOON ON THE RISE
DOCTORS AND LAWYERS AND SUCH
LYING WONDERS
VEGAS NERVE
SHOTGUN WEDDING *
RUDE AWAKENING *
HUSBAND AND WIVES *
*available from Severn House
DEAD WEIGHT
Susan Rogers Cooper
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First published in Great Britain and the USA 2012 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.
This eBook edition first published in 2012 by Severn Digital an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited
Copyright © 2012 by Susan Rogers Cooper
The right of Susan Rogers Cooper to be identified as the author of the work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Cooper, Susan Rogers.
Dead weight.
1. Pugh, E. J. (Fictitious character)–Fiction. 2. Womien
novelists–Fiction. 3. Women private investigators–
United States–Fiction. 4. Detective and mystery stories.
I. Title
813.6-dc23
ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-304-4 (epub)
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8195-3 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-452-3 (trade paper)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.
To Marian Harper Law, my granddaughter
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank all the people who have started the various twelve-step programs, and all those who have been helped through the years by this concept. I’d personally like to thank my agent, Vicky Bijur, for her help and advice, and the intrepid Joan Hess for her counsel.
ONE
A
s I was heading to the bedroom to get ready, Willis, my husband, met me at the door, his index finger stiffly pointing to the ceiling. ‘Have you seen Ridley Hamilton’s front lawn?’ he asked me sternly.
‘No—’
‘You ask me, how can Ridley Hamilton’s front lawn be green in this, the worst drought in Texas history?’ he said, index finger still stiff and pointed.
‘I don’t think it’s the worst in his—’
‘I’ll tell you why!’ he said, his voice getting loud. Then there was silence. Finally he said, ‘Aren’t you going to ask me why?’
I sighed. ‘Why is Ridley Hamilton’s front lawn green in this, the worst drought in Texas history?’ I asked.
‘He cheats!’
‘Ah,’ I said, trying to move around him to the bedroom. Unfortunately, he followed me. I wondered if he was losing all the blood from his index finger that was still stiffly pointed ceiling-ward.
‘Don’t “ah” me, missy!’ he said.
‘Then don’t call me mis—’
‘Two hours a week!’ Willis almost shouted. ‘Two frigging hours a week is all we’re allowed to water both the front and the back lawn. I looked over his fence!’ Willis said, having moved straight into shouting mode. ‘The backyard’s green, too!’
‘Honey, I have to—’
‘I can barely keep the shrubs and the perennials alive! Forget about the annuals and the lawn! Have you seen our lawn?’
‘Of cour—’
‘Dead, E.J. It’s dead! And I follow mandatory restrictions! How can my lawn be dead if I’m following mandatory restrictions and Ridley Hamilton’s yard be lively and green if he’s following mandatory restrictions?’
‘Well—’
‘Because he’s not!’ Willis said, now thrusting his finger to the ceiling. Luckily the ceiling in our bedroom is vaulted; otherwise he might have poked a hole.
‘You know what?’ I said, taking him by the arms and turning him toward the door of the bedroom.
‘What?’ he said, moving but looking over his shoulder at me.
‘I think you should go next door and tell Luna about this,’ I declared. Luna is a homicide detective with the Codderville Police Department. We live in Black Cat Ridge, a wholly made town/subdivision developed in the mid-eighties, which is right across the Colorado River from the much older town of Codderville where my husband was raised. Although she lives here, Black Cat Ridge is not Luna’s jurisdiction, but it would get Willis out of the house so I could get ready.
‘You know, you’re right!’ he said. ‘Maybe she’ll let me borrow her gun!’ and he moved fast out of our bedroom. Seconds later I heard the front door slam.
I sighed and began to prepare myself for the upcoming ordeal. I’d recently bought a full-length mirror for the back of the closet door. It was a gift to myself for losing thirty-five pounds through the aptly-named ‘Weigh In’, my weight-loss group. I followed that with a trip to the hairdresser where my shoulder-length mass of red and gray curls was colored as close to the original red as possible, and all of it was cut into what they call a bob, which is shorter in the back then comes down longer over the ears. It’s usually done on straight hair and looks sleek and cool. As my hair is kinky-curly, it was a little different. I think it was the first do my hair ever liked, because I was looking Good, and that capital ‘G’ is on purpose! The first article of clothing I bought was a little black dress; unfortunately, it was for a memorial service, which I was getting ready for as I stared at my reflection.
I’m in my forties and looked better at that moment than I had since my late twenties. I may have had to energize my hair color, but my eyes were still a fairly brilliant green, if I do say so myself, and my smile was still just as straight as when the orthodontist sent me home for the last time. And my body, well, it was definitely in fighting condition, if you know what I mean. I thought I might attempt seducing my husband when I got home later. If the kids were out. If we weren’t too tired. If there wasn’t anything really good on TV.
The black dress was knee-length and with cap sleeves, as befit a Saturday in July in central Texas. A normal July, that is; this one, however, any clothing at all was too much. The memorial service was for a woman I barely knew. She’d been in my weight-loss group, but I’d rarely talked with her. My neighbour Trisha McClure, however, who lived across the street, knew the woman much better. They were in a MADD group (Mothers Against Drunk Driving) together and had bonded when picketing the capital in Austin over drunk-driving laws.
The deceased was Berta Harris, a thirty-something woman with dark brown hair, brown eyes and a body that was neither heavy nor light. If anything, I’d say she’d been maybe ten pounds over her ideal weight. We’d both been going to Weigh In for six months and I’d never seen her take off a pound. She’d lived somewhere in Black Cat Ridge and the memorial service was being held at the Episcopal Church of Black Cat Ridge. It was going to start in another twenty minutes. I ran into the bathroom and applied lipstick. Yes, I was going all out. I figured a lot of the Weigh In crowd were going to be there, and I was eager to show off my new figure.
Now that my eighteen-year-old son Graham was driving and my fifteen-year-old daughters would all be eligible to take driver’s ed this summer, my husband Willis and I decided, with some heavy pushing on my part, that it was time for me to get rid of the old minivan and buy me my own vehicle, one just meant for me. Willis had always had his own car, the one he took to work but was never used for family. My car, whatever it was at the time (station wagon, minivan, SUV) was always the family car. Instances of us going anywhere as a family had become fewer and farther between, and now, if we
did
venture out as a family, we usually took two cars where ever we went – Willis and me in one, Graham and the girls in another. So I was pushing for a two-seater. Willis had finally gotten his huge pickup truck with the oversized tires that took two steps for me to get into, so now it was time for my sports car – one of those cute Audis, or one of the new Z’s. I was punch drunk with excitement about it. Whatever it was would have a top that came off, I can guarantee you that.
But at this moment I was still driving a minivan, so I went into the garage, crawled in, and buzzed across the street to pick up Trisha. I’m five foot eleven inches. Trisha was one of those women who always made me feel like the fifty-foot woman. A petite five foot two, she couldn’t possibly weigh more than a hundred pounds, and her blonde hair was either natural or the best bleach job ever. She was also incredibly sweet. She had two little girls, ages five and three, who both looked just like her, and a husband as big as mine who doted on her. The McClures had moved in across the street about a year and a half ago. We were friendly but this would be the first time Trisha had been in my car. I threw out some of the trash. Trisha came out of her house to meet me, wearing a black suit that looked as good on her as my black dress looked on me. Well, almost as good.
She jumped in the minivan, pulling herself up the step with the help of the ‘sissy’ bar above the door. ‘God, can you believe this heat? I think it’s already reached a hundred!’ she said.
‘And it’s only eleven o’clock,’ I muttered, turning up the air conditioning as I pulled the car away from the curb. ‘How well did you know Berta?’ I asked, speaking of the woman whose memorial service we were about to attend.
‘Not really that well. Other than that rally in Austin last month, we didn’t talk that much. But Austin was a lot of fun. There’s nothing like a good protest to get the juices flowing. We all went back to the hotel and got drunk afterwards. And no,’ she said, shooting me a look, ‘no one was driving! We all stayed the night in the hotel!’
‘I can’t imagine Berta drunk,’ I said. ‘She was always so . . .’ I struggled for the right word, but Trisha beat me to it.
‘Depressed?’ she filled in.
‘Exactly.’
‘Well, let me tell you, she was a depressed drunk too. Three drinks in and she burst into tears.’ That’s when she sighed heavily. ‘We all have our own reasons for being members of MADD. I joined because my dad was a drunk and I was always terrified that he was going to kill himself or someone else. He never did it with a car, but he died of liver failure, so I guess he did kill himself.’
‘I’m sorry, Trisha,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘I don’t talk about it much, but it’s no big secret. It happened a long time ago and MADD is just the way I deal with it. My brother has his own way – he drinks.’
I patted her hand and she went on: ‘But that night when we got drunk, Berta told us about her little boy who was hit by a drunk driver. It happened ten or so years ago, but that’s something you never get over.’
I shuddered at the thought. ‘God, the poor woman. She was in the weight-loss group because her mother was obese and died from complications of diabetes,’ I said.
‘I didn’t know about that,’ Trisha said. ‘And now this.’
‘What happened anyway?’ I asked.
‘I don’t really know,’ she said as we pulled into the parking lot of the church. ‘She was in the hospital for something, and the woman who called me – someone from MADD – just said it was complications.’
‘Lot of that going around,’ I said, while trying to find a place to park. The church had kept almost all of the trees that had originally been in the space designated for a parking lot, and there were so many of them that actual parking spaces were at a premium. It was a very eco-friendly and pretty parking lot, what with all the cars having to find space on the street. I finally found a spot and we parked and headed into the church.