Killer Cousins (4 page)

“Any excuse seems good at this point.” The speaker sat at the far end of the group, his three-pronged walking cane nearby. Tight faced, he pumped his heel, making his knee bounce. “I’m dying for a cigarette.”

The group leader faced him. “And one cigarette might literally kill you. Outside a few minutes ago, you told me you’d quit last night. And if you smoked one, you’d want more. Then more. And before you know it, you’d be right back to where you were yesterday, coughing your lungs out.”

“Ugggh.” I covered my mouth with my hand. All eyes trained on me. “Sorry. That wasn’t a pleasant image.”

Faces in the room all looked tense.

“Are you a smoker?” the leader asked me. “It’s late for you to be joining our sessions.”

“I only tried smoking twice but got weak and coughed so much I gave up. In fact, both times I was with Stevie, in the cemetery near her house.”

“Appropriate place,” the last man said. With extra-wide shoulders and a baby-smooth complexion, he wore cappuccino-colored linen slacks with a piece of grass sticking out of its cuff. The pattern of his dark brown rayon shirt resembled squids.

“Everyone,” Stevie said, “this is my cousin Cealie Gunther. She’s visiting me.”

The shapely woman gave me a warm smile—the camaraderie of short people. No one else appeared happy that I was here.

“Hi,” I told the group. “Good luck with your goal. I empathize. Quitting smoking isn’t easy.”

“You can say that again,” the taller woman said, others nodding.

“And that’s the reason we’re here.” On an easel the leader set a poster with only a title: THE QUITTERS GROUP.

I didn’t think that an appropriate name, and knew an apostrophe should have been behind the second word. I also didn’t know any of these people’s names.

The leader’s mouth opened to speak. I interjected, “Excuse me. You all know who I am now, but I don’t know you. Not fair, is it?”

Tha-rump tha-rump
came from Stevie’s fingertips on her shoulder bag on her lap.

The leader gave me a pinched expression. “I’m Ish Muller.” His brief nod allowed me to glimpse his premature bald spot.

“Father Paul Edward,” the man with the cane said. He wore street clothes.

“Kern Parfait,” said the man wearing squids.

“Hey. I’m Fawn.” The small woman waved.

I grinned, then looked at the larger woman who seemed unnerved by my stare. She swerved her eyes away. “Jenna.” She swallowed her last name.

“Now,” Ish said, regaining everyone’s focus, “tell us how you all made out. Did everyone quit last night?”

Shaky heads with gloomy eyes nodded.

“Good. Now let’s hear what the last twenty-four hours were like for you,” Ish said.

“I yelled at my husband and almost killed both my kids.” Fawn held up a red-striped straw. “But sucking on this kept me from hurting anyone.” She sucked on the straw, removed it, and exhaled.

“Anything that helps. What else? Anybody?” Ish said.

“I kept busy with my work,” Father said.

“I took lots of deep breaths.” Stevie, at my side, surprised me with her quiet tone. And I hadn’t noticed her doing deep breathing at home. Of course, I arrived after a man died there. “And meditation helped,” she added.

That’s what she’d said she was doing when I rang her front doorbell. She’d also said she didn’t know the dead man, but now I’d discovered he belonged to this group. What else wasn’t she telling me?

And why weren’t any of them concerned about their fellow member’s demise?

The group peered at Jenna. Her cheeks flushed. She kept her head down.

Finally she looked up. “All right, I admit it. I had one today. But it was just one. And mid-afternoon. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“That’s okay.” Fawn patted Jenna’s arm. “You won’t do it again, right?”

Jenna hunched forward, hands twisting in her lap. Everyone focused on her. She looked so dejected under such scrutiny that I had to turn my eyes away. No one should have to squirm and sit in other people’s judgment while trying to stop a habit.

After long moments, during which I imagined she nodded, Ish again spoke. “So—you’ll all continue to need help. Here is today’s material. Does everyone have a pencil or pen?”

He passed out papers to all except me. I watched Stevie print her name in tall letters. Her paper contained lines for complete sentences or paragraphs. It also held cartoons of smiling people. I guessed those happy people had quit smoking.

I leaned near her. “You didn’t tell me the man who died came to these sessions.”

“I didn’t know.” A grimace froze on her face.

“He was in this small group, and you didn’t know he was here?” I indicated the people following Ish’s instructions for writing. “How could you miss anybody in here?”

My voice probably carried. Ish gave me a pained expression.

“Sorry to interrupt you,” I said.

“I never saw the man before,” my cousin told me. “If he was here, I didn’t see him.”

“Who?” Fawn leaned forward.

“Yes, may I ask who you’re talking about?” Ish didn’t hide his annoyance.

I wasn’t about to tell them their fellow stop-smoker had died in Stevie’s yard.

But Stevie did. “The man you were talking about when we came in,” she announced. “He was discovered dead in someone’s yard today. That yard was mine.”

“Oh.” Fawn pressed back in her chair.

“Your yard?” the priest said.

Jenna’s face blanched.

Ish came to Stevie. “Pierce Trottier died at your place?”

“I guess so, if that was his name.”

“I’m sorry a friend of yours died today,” I said to everyone. They probably would not like to know I fell across their friend. I didn’t like it, either. Suddenly, I felt him pressed against my shins.

“How could you have not known him?” Ish asked Stevie.

“I
didn’t
know him. When did he come here? I never saw him in any of our sessions.”

“I want a cigarette!” Jenna said. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have one.”

“No, don’t!” Fawn produced a straw from her purse. “Have a straw instead.”

Jenna swept past her out the door.

“Now you see?” The priest glared at Stevie. “You’re making her smoke again.”

“I’m not making anybody smoke. And I didn’t know that man.” Stevie got up to her feet. “I’m leaving. Are you coming?” she asked me.

“Of course.” I felt like her supporter, but wasn’t even sure I agreed with her. Was she lying to all of us? “Nice meeting you all,” I said.

“Don’t forget your material.” Ish intercepted Stevie. “Read these. They’ll help you.”

I stood behind my cousin and couldn’t see her face, but determined flames could’ve flared out her nostrils. She yanked the papers from his hands and stormed out.

The moment I walked outside, I smelled smoke. I spied a tiny red glow behind bushes. “See you later,” I called to the person I figured was Jenna.

No response. The red glow moved deeper behind the bushes.

I snapped on my seatbelt a second before Stevie peeled into the street, her foot never seeming to touch the brakes, even at corners.

“Well that was nice,” I said. Her face turned to me, her expression curious. “The meeting,” I explained. “Lots of interesting people.”

Her throat made a gritty sound. She stared at the road, her hand dipping into the large purse at her side. She dug around.

I hoped she wouldn’t pull out a cigarette, but knew she could do worse.

Stevie withdrew a Tootsie Pop. “Want one?”

I hadn’t eaten a chocolate Tootsie Pop in more years than I wanted to count. It enticed me, but my waistband still felt too tight. “Maybe later.”

She stuck hers in her mouth. Within moments, she appeared soothed.

At least that new bulge in her cheek and white stick dangling from her mouth gave her a semblance of the Stevie I’d known. The lively jokester had been her image, even until a few weeks ago, when we’d spoken on the phone. Something in the recent past had caused her personality to twist one hundred eighty degrees.

Had the transformation come about last night, when nicotine started leaching from her system? Or did this sudden change come about because a man died, a man she claimed she hadn’t known?

She found me staring at her. “Want one now?” she asked, hand heading for her purse.

I wanted both her hands clasping the steering wheel as she zigzagged up the mountainside. “No candy, thanks.” I faced the road, hoping she’d do the same.

She did, and in no time we reached her house. She parked in the attached garage, got out, and slammed the door. She left the papers Ish had given her on the seat.

I grabbed them, noticed the pristine appearance of her garage, and followed her inside.

The door led to the kitchen. She stood leaning back against the table, waiting for me. “I didn’t know him,” she reiterated.

“I believe you.” Instinctively, I used fingernails from my left hand to pinch my right palm. A technique for tempering my lie? Or habit to try to convince myself I’d told the truth? At the moment I couldn’t tell.

“Do you want something to eat?” Stevie asked.

“I’m still full.” And my stomach was doing a twitchy dance from the ride.

“I’ll just have a snack.” She retrieved Devilish Chocolates, ripped the bag open, and held it toward me. I shook my head with much effort, and she gobbled the entire contents.

So much for putting all blame for her blossoming figure on medicine. She raised her hand to toss the crumpled bag to a wastebasket.

“You did a good thing today,” I said.

Color drained from her face. “Huh?” Stevie’s arm jerked, letting the trash go. The wadded bag struck the cabinet and bounced to the floor.

“That was a positive step you took.” I tossed her bag in the wastebasket. “Quitting smoking.”

“Oh yes, that.”

“Did you do anything else special today? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Her gaze skittered everywhere around the room but toward my face. She heaved a sigh. “Just gave a strawberry sticker to one of my students. Lacy. It’s her birthday.” A glimmer of a smile flashed. “I gave her a big squeeze.”

Not too big, I hoped, looking at Stevie’s size and considering her tiny first-grade students.

I mentally slapped the side of my head. No matter how hard I tried, I’d never been able to rid myself of those rapidly surfacing judgments.

“I know you enjoy your students.”

“They keep me happy,” Stevie said, and told of incidents with some of the children.

I considered telling about the fearsome teens I’d recently encountered in my granddaughter Kat’s high school, but decided not to disrupt her cheerful mood.

“I’ll go to bed now,” I said.

“Your things are in the guest bedroom. Let me know if you need anything else.”

I was satisfied that my bedroom appeared normal. No candles, altars, or stones. The room had a pleasant airy feel. Sheer blue curtains. Purple, red, and green blended surprisingly well on the bedspread with lots of throw pillows in those colors.

Stevie had set my luggage on one section of a king-size bed. She’d turned down the covers on the opposite side.

I dressed in a lightweight gown and left my suitcase where it was since I didn’t move much while I slept.

I slid into the bed’s turned-back section and considered the day. My flight change to here. Finding a body, which seemed too horrible to think about. Stevie’s mega change in size and habits. Her group members. And the cushiony feel of Gil’s shoulders. Within minutes, I slept.

A while later I awoke, wishing I’d emptied my bladder before going to bed. A sound had awakened me. Did it come from my window?

I shrank beneath the covers. Listened.

After long minutes, with no sound repeating, I decided what I’d heard must have come from a dream. I traipsed down the dark hall to the bathroom.

A voice uttered strange sounds. A pungent aroma swelled in the hallway. From the open doorway of the extra bedroom came an unusual shifting glow.

I drew back. What made that noise? And the radiance?

I waited. Took a breath. Peeked through the slim opening of the door.

Stevie lay on the carpet. Wearing a white gauzy gown, she prostrated herself in the center of a circle of lit candles. Their flames danced. But no fan stirred the air to give them movement. My cousin was humming. No, no rhythm came from the sounds in her throat. With nuances of their own, they sounded like utterances that still remained trapped deep within her body.

Trembling inside, I tiptoed away, leaving Stevie to say her prayers or make amends or whatever she was doing with possible otherworld spirits. My main concern was that, later during the night, those spirits wouldn’t come to investigate me.

I needed to learn who this person was that I thought I’d known all my life. And hurry away from her.

Chapter 4

The second half of the night brought little sleep. Suppose Stevie dozed off on that floor, and the candles set the house on fire? What could I learn about the man who died outside, the one whose legs left an imprinted feel against my shins?

I dragged myself from the bed, then remembered the noise that seemed to come from the window. I dashed there and yanked the curtains aside.

Sunlight brightened most of the yard and the part of April’s house that I could see. Her house was fairly close, her curtains apparently sheer. Trees and shrubs made shadows on the tall grass. No tree or shrub grew close to my room. The wooden fence stood about five feet toward the back, partitioning the backyard but not this part of the house containing my bedroom. Anyone could have walked from the street in front and come near my window.

Oh, come on, Cealie, who’d want to peek at you in bed?

I shook my head to get rid of ridiculous thoughts and walked to the bright kitchen, wondering what Stevie I might find today.

She seemed especially cheerful. “Hey-Cea-lie,” she said like three chirps. She flitted around the stove, which gave off tempting sausage smells. She wore a long-sleeved muumuu, similar to what she wore yesterday but with geometric shapes in different colors. “I slept great. How about you?”

“I went to sleep right away.” Without mentioning the restless balance of my night, I considered what she ordinarily did in the wee hours. “Did you go and work out at your gym at two a.m.?” I dropped to a chair and wondered if she’d volunteer an explanation about the candlelit ceremony.