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Authors: Cheryl Richards

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BOOK: Deadly Dosage
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I peeked again in Brandi’s room and they were both still
sleeping. I changed back into my pajamas and looked at myself in my dresser
mirror. My cheeks were bright red from the cold and my heart was beating hard.
I think I was close to hyperventilating. When my heart rate slowed, I went into
the kitchen to make some coffee.

 

 

I was
sipping my coffee when Brandi pranced in. She wore a lacey robe over a pink
teddy. “Hi, Sun,” she said sweetly. “Um, I hope you won’t be mad, but Sam and I
ran into each other at Hot Pants and we sort of hooked up.” Brandi worked as a
waitress at Hot Pants, a rip-off Hooters’ style restaurant, specializing in
spicy ribs.

 “He’s a free agent,” I said smoothly, giving her a forced
grin. I hated her almost as much as him.

     “I’m
so glad!” she said relieved. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out bread.
She stuck a couple of slices into the toaster and sashayed back to her bedroom.

     Maybe
she’d give him herpes. Keying up his truck didn’t improve my mood as much as I
hoped, however it did help to erase some of the pain in my heart. I cut off
another hunk of cheese-filled coffee cake and shoved it in my mouth, eating
without pleasure.

Just as I was finishing the funnies section of the newspaper,
the phone rang and Sam walked in fully clothed. His eyes challenged mine with a
combination of arrogance and regret. I gazed back with steely eyes. “Fucking
bastard,” I swore softly. He flinched and I adverted my attention to my ringing
cell phone. It was Autumn, so I picked up.

     “Hey,
Autumn, what’s up?”

     “Not
Alan,” she said.

     I
hoped she meant he was still sleeping, because I really didn’t want to know the
condition of his willy-whacker.

     “Sunny?”
she said, “That was a joke. You know, ha ha.”

     “Oh,”
I said lamely, “so what’s new?”

     “You
sound grouchy.”

     “Migraine.”
I didn’t want to get into a discussion of Sam with him in my living room.

     “Want
to go shopping?”

     “Have
you looked outside?” I wanted out of the apartment, yet I was pretty sure some
of the roads would be closed.

     “Roads
are cleared here,” she said. Her roads were always cleared first. I figured
someone important must live in the neighborhood, where she shared a house with
Alan.

     “Not
here.”

     “C’mon.
I’ll even pick you up.” Snow did not stop Autumn from shopping; she was much
like a postal worker on his appointed rounds.

“Yeah, okay. Give me an hour to get ready.”

     “It’ll
take me twenty if I leave now, so no problem. Want me to come up?”

     I
looked at Sam and Brandi sitting side-by-side on my couch sharing a plate of
toast and cringed.

“No, I’ll run down when I see you.”

I hung up and went down the hall, ignoring Sam to the best of
my ability. I knew he was watching me so I held in my tears until I reached my
bedroom and closed the door behind me.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

Autumn
drove Alan’s recently acquired, spotless SUV into the mall parking lot and
drove up and down the aisles looking for the perfect spot, which was difficult
since the snow was plowed into rows that were at least five feet high. She
mentioned on the way over that Alan wanted a brand new Escalade, but he conceded
that they couldn’t afford it. Autumn always managed to keep him and their funds
in check. She played the financial advisor at home and on the job. With the
downturn in the economy, she said her client list was down. Still she did
reasonably well. She wanted to help me invest for my future, but I couldn’t
even afford my present. She said I liked to make excuses.

     “Autumn,”
I said, “I think my ass is burning.” The SUV’s leather seats were complete with
heaters. I much preferred my cheaper cloth seats.

     “Relax,
I’ll be parking in just a sec. Aha!” she shouted. An old lady was trying her
best to back out of a tight parking space. Autumn inched up but still had two
car lengths in front of her.

 “Autumn, get closer, someone’s going to sneak in front of
you.” My impatience was strangling me. “You’ve got plenty of room grandma!” I
shouted, though she couldn’t hear me.

     Grandma
didn’t think so. She whipped Autumn the bird.

     “Did
you see that? What’s the world coming to?”

     “Cripes.
Back up and give her some room. She thinks she’s driving a tanker.” Autumn
followed my advice and grandma zoomed away beeping her horn. “Nice,” I said.

     “Honestly,”
she said checking her cell phone for messages, “I don’t know how you stand
working with all those old people. Have you killed anyone yet?”

     “No,
but the thought has crossed my mind a time or two.” She laughed.

     We
sprinted through the snowy lot to the main entrance. The rush of heat engulfed
us as we moved through the main doors. I unzipped my jacket and removed my
gloves. Autumn followed suit and led me to the lockers, where we stowed our
winter gear. It’s bad enough looking ugly in the dressing room mirrors, no
reason to be sweaty too.

 

 

After
shopping for two hours, Autumn had purchased a designer outfit at eighty
percent off and I had three pairs of sexy underwear at full price. I’m not much
of a shopper. I don’t know if that would change if I suddenly inherited a few
million dollars, but I’d like to find out—not enough to marry Aggy though.

We were hungry; however, I wasn’t excited about mall food.
“Nothing sounds good,” I complained. Actually, cookies and giant cheese covered
pretzels sounded good but not altogether healthy.

     “There’s
that Mexican restaurant, Bellos Mementos, on the west side of the mall in the
parking lot.” Autumn pointed in the general direction. “We can get margaritas.”

     “I’m
game,” I said. I love Mexican food and margaritas, all flavors. It’s the only
drink I can’t handle. Probably I should leave them alone, but that wouldn’t be
any fun. Besides, I was older now and rarely drank more than two.

     The
restaurant’s atmosphere was lively for a Sunday and crowded. The interior was
typical of a Mexican restaurant, with colorful flowers, senoritas, sombreros,
and burros on the walls. As we waited at the bar for our table, we ordered
margaritas. Autumn got raspberry and I chose mango, a flavor I had yet to try.

     The
bartender placed the drinks on the bar and took my money. I sipped slowly and
licked my lips. “This is good,” I said to Autumn, “Want to try it?”

She took my glass and sipped. She nodded in agreement.

     “Mmmm.
Try mine.”

 I took her glass and sipped, using my straw. “I think I like
yours better.”

     “Want
to trade?” Autumn was the most agreeable person in the world.

     “Okay,”
I said and we swapped glasses. I usually don’t swap drinks because of backwash.
Occasionally I make exceptions.

     I
felt a warm hand on my shoulder, and turned slightly to see a man around my
age, trying to get the bartender’s attention. His chestnut brown eyes followed
the bartender and mine followed his profile. Straight nose, slightly flared,
angled jaw with square, faintly dimpled chin, nice ear, sensual mouth, and…he
caught me ogling at him. I turned quickly and almost knocked the margarita out
of Autumn’s hand. Mango ice sloshed down her hand and dripped into her lap.

     “Ahhh!”
she cried, placing her dripping glass on the bar.

     “Sorry,”
I said and handed her a wad of bar napkins.

     While
she was mopping up, I felt a tap on my back. I turned and the dreamboat was
holding my worn out black leather handbag by its strap. He looked familiar
somehow.

     “This
dropped on my foot when you turned,” he said with a hint of amusement. “It
weighs a ton.” He looked me in the eyes, and opened his mouth to say something
else and then closed it again with a small shake of his head.

I noticed Ms. Voluptuous standing nearby latch onto his arm.
Her long red fingernails dug into his cream-colored sweater sleeve. She gave me
the evil eye and squeezed him tighter. “Come Lloyd, they called our table,” she
said in a commanding, husky voice. He gave her a tight-lipped expression.

“Gee, sorry about your foot.” I took my handbag and turned
back to face Autumn, barely suppressing my laughter.

     We
heard our party called next, so we grabbed our drinks and followed the host to
our booth. Of course, it was right behind the hot guy named, Lloyd, and his
bimbo. Autumn slid in, leaving me the seat facing him. He’s going to think I
planned it this way, I thought irrationally. I glanced up and he was staring at
me. I quickly looked down as our waiter placed a basket of tortilla chips on
the table and several little cups of salsa. He asked for our order, but we
begged off, saying we needed a few extra minutes. I began to feel
self-conscious.

I took a sip of my drink and then dipped a chip into one of
the little black salsa-filled cups. I placed the chip into my mouth and I had a
hot flash. I started fanning my mouth.

     “Hot!
Ha-ot!” I yelled. Everyone turned and looked at me. Autumn shrunk down in her
seat. I gulped some water. My mouth was on fire. I drained the glass, and
regained my composure. “Stay away from that one,” I pointed.

     Autumn
moved the cup to far end of the table. “Jalapeños?”

     “Must
be.” I looked at the menu and snuck a glance at Lloyd. He wasn’t looking, so I
stared for a minute. He really looked and sounded familiar. I ate another chip,
avoiding the jalapeño sauce. Then it came to me. The guy I ran into at work,
Mr. Harper’s son. I kicked Autumn’s ankle.

     “Ow!”
she cried.

     “Look
behind you,” I whispered. She started to turn around just as he looked up. I
kicked her again.

     “What!”
she whispered.

     The
waiter stopped by just then and we gave him our order. We went with the shredded
beef enchiladas and rice platter, and then splurged on their featured
margaritas: Blue Lagoon and Cadillac.

     “Come
to the rest room with me,” I whispered. I got up and she followed me out of the
restaurant area.

     We
stepped inside the restroom. “What is it?” Autumn said. “My ankle’s going to be
black and blue for cripes sake.” She bent down to exam her leg and rubbed her
ankle.
     “Did you see that hot guy behind you?” I practically squealed.

     “No!
You kicked me when I tried to look!”

     “Well,
check him out on the way back to the table. He’s coming to Ageless Grace
tomorrow morning. His father is a resident.” I explained how we met and she
agreed that was a lucky break, seeing how I just dumped Sam.

     “Okay,
I’ll check him out. I’m going to pee as long as we’re in here,” Autumn said and
headed toward a stall. While waiting, I looked in the mirror and spotted salsa
on my face. “Thanks a lot Autumn,” I said, wiping off my cheek.

     When
we reached our booth, Autumn purposely dropped her keys just a little past his
seat. She shot him a quick glance and rushed back to her seat.

     I
mouthed “Well?” and she gave me two thumbs up. Our order arrived and we feasted
happily, sharing each other’s drinks. I felt psyched and for no good reason.
The guy did have a girlfriend, who was far from homely.

By the time we left, we were tipsy and he had long left with
the bimbo. It was a good thing too, because we started singing along with the
mariachi band.

At a little past six, we left after some hot coffee. The
roads were salted and Autumn drove fine until she reached my parking lot and
the SUV slid on a patch of black ice and almost took out the mailboxes. I shot
her a look that said ‘holy shit’ woman. I thanked her for the entertainment,
threw her a goodbye kiss, and told her to drive safely. If it had been me
driving, the mailboxes would be lying in a snowdrift and dented.

My semi-drunkenness kept the cold at bay until I reached my
apartment. The door opened without my key, which meant Brandi was already home
from work. I let myself in, hung my jacket on the leaning coat tree, and
stumbled a little to my bedroom. I heard Brandi say something just before I
dropped on the bed and passed out.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

I woke to
the sound of strong winds slapping snow against the windowpane. Another
snowstorm was in progress and it appeared to be dumping snow at a rate of two
inches per hour. My alarm clock showed 11:30 p.m., so I got up and changed into
my pajamas. I rubbed my eyes, yawned, and went to the bathroom. I needed a
couple of antacids. When I came out, I noticed the lit kitchen, so either
Brandi forgot to turn off the light or she was still up. I’d normally be in bed
by ten, and with it snowing out, I knew I’d have to leave earlier in the
morning, yet I wasn’t tired.

The worst thing about working at a nursing home is that like
a hospital, it never closes. No snow days for me, and I already used two sick
days last month due to the snow. So far, it was the snowiest year on record
since 1959.

It’ll probably never happen in a hundred years, but I have
this fear of being kept in the nursing home overnight due to a blizzard. The
smell emanating from the kitchen at lunchtime is a combination of wet rags and
pureed peas, so I’m positive I don’t want to be around for dinner. Plus, what if
there was a breach in security due to a power failure and all the Alzheimer
residents got out? I have these creepy images of the residents walking around
like zombies after midnight, with blank unseeing eyes, griping their Social
Security checks, coming towards me saying ‘it’s mine.’

BOOK: Deadly Dosage
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