Cornucopia (8 page)

“Not necessarily,” I replied defensively. “It depends on if they’re acting oddly.”

“But you find it odd that Margie decided to take a day off work?”

“I find it odd that she didn’t call in.”

“And now you’re obsessed.”

“I’m concerned about my friend.”

“And what about me?
Am I acting oddly?”

“You are now,” I admitted.

“Come now. To hear you talk, everyone you meet must be a closet murderer,” the dentist teased as he toyed with his tools.

“Honestly, to hear you talk you must have Margie’s dead body hidden in your office closet,” I countered with little thought.

I was shocked by my own words. The dentist flinched, almost knocking over his tool tray. His face snapped back in my direction. Our eyes met. His were wide open in dismay. Mine were equally wide open but from budding fear. This time it seemed that I had touched a nerve with my flippant statement.

“What an awful thing to say,” he announced, quickly looking away.

Remembering the shock in his eyes, I still felt bad for what I had said. I’m normally not that rude, so I could only assume that it was the drugs that had been talking. But at the same time that I bemoaned my words, I had an uneasy feeling inside. A bright red warning light was flashing inside my mind.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said such a thing,” I apologized.

He didn’t immediately turn back to face me. When he did, the shock was gone from his eyes and I even thought that I sensed a smile beneath his mask and in his voice.

“That’s alright. It was probably just the drugs speaking.”

“That must have been it.”

I caught his eyes darting across the room. I followed his gaze and saw the closet door standing shut. And wouldn’t you know it, as we were both gazing at the door a loud clunking sound came from within as if something had fallen off a shelf. Our eyes snapped back to each other and locked.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Nothing, I’m sure,” the dentist assured me.

“Is there something in the closet, Dr. Bester?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself over. Now calm down, you’re letting your imagination get the better of you.”

He was probably right, I told myself as I settled down deeper into the chair.

The dentist rose to walk across his office. I could hear him as he rummaged in a drawer in the far corner of the room. When he returned, he was holding something I couldn’t see in his hands. He remained standing, looking down at me as he addressed me.

“Now, Ms. Boston, the next part of the procedure is very delicate. To aid me in my work I’m going to have to make sure that you don’t move.”

“I won’t,” I lied.

“But I need to make sure. This may seem a bit odd, but I have these restraints which I’m going to use to bind you to the chair.”

“Restraints?”

My mind was still a bit cloudy and preoccupied but the mention of restraints struck me as very odd.

“Yes. They’ll only be temporary and I’ll remove them when the procedure is over.”

I felt the doctor grab my nearest wrist and heard a distinctive sound as the restraint was ratcheted closed on my wrist before being attached to the chair. The dentist then leaned across my reclined body to secure my other wrist. Had I really heard a ratcheting sound? My mind sent off alarms which were confirmed when I finally managed to look down and see that the restraint he had chosen to use on my right wrist was none other than a pair of handcuffs. When I felt the second set of cuffs close around my other wrist I reacted instinctively and with great vigor.

With my upper body effectively pinned between the doctor’s chest and the chair, I exercised my limited freedom of action to pull my legs up into a deep crunch. I was hoping that such a movement would knock Dr. Bester’s body off of mine but ended up accomplishing a great deal more through the powerful action. Flying up to my chest and lifting my ass and lower back from the chair, my right knee made contact with the doctor’s chin so fiercely that his head spun around nearly backward on his shoulders. The contact was accompanied by a satisfying thud and groan from the doctor. He went down like a sack of potatoes, first falling into my lap and from there sliding to the floor. Cindy, my aerobics instructor, would have been proud.

When the action was over, I came to the stunning realization that I had just coldcocked my dentist. I still had a strong suspicion that something odd was going on. Now I realized that I’d better be right or I was in for a night in the slammer for assault and battery. Surely handcuffing
me
to the dentist’s chair had to be a sign of foul play. It was time to prove my case.

I rose to a sitting position and almost fell off the chair I was so dizzy. The room continued to spin as I tried to steady myself. Eventually things settled down and I was able to consider standing. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be going far since I was still handcuffed to the arm of the chair. I looked down to see that the chair was mounted firmly to the floor and realized that I wouldn’t be dragging the thing anywhere. Across the room my purse was resting on the counter with my cellphone in it. There was no way that I could reach it.

Looking around the room, I saw that the closet door was within reach if I used my foot to turn the handle. I recognized that there may not be a dead body inside the closet but hoped that there may be a weapon that I could use to defend myself should the doctor wake up or something that would help me to unlock the cuffs. Rising carefully to my feet, I decided to give the closet a try. Holding onto the arm of the chair with my handcuffed hand for balance, I stretched my leg out until the ball of my foot rested on the levered handle of the door. I then depressed the lever and the door popped open … and the dead body of Margie Livingston slumped out of the closet onto the floor of the office.

Sometimes I hate always being right when it comes to these murder cases.

Looking beyond the body, I saw nothing in the closet that would be of any assistance to me in my current predicament. Now that I was standing, I was able to examine the instruments the dentist had arrayed on the nearby tray. I picked up one of the metal dental picks and began working on the lock of the handcuff holding me to the arm of the chair. After several minutes spend digging away at the lock I came to the conclusion that I would be unable to free myself using this makeshift
lockpick
. Next I spotted the drill sitting in its holder.

After some research and experimentation, I found that the drill was operated using a foot pedal located below the dental chair. The drill screamed as I pressed its tip to the metal of the cuff. I tried the best I could to keep the drill away from my skin but had to stop when the metal of the cuff began to heat up and burn me. The drill made a piercing screaming sound that set my nerves on edge. It was undoubtedly the screaming of the drill that prevented me from noticing as the doctor woke and began to rise from the floor. This was too bad because I almost had the cuff off when he struck.

Before I could even look up to see my attacker I had the drill slapped from my hand. The next thing I knew I was being flung back into the chair and the cuff dangling from my free wrist was being fastened to the opposite arm of the dental chair. I looked up into the face of Dr. Bester, who was once more leaning over me, and found that he didn’t look so well. He seemed kind of woozy and unsteady on his feet. In addition, there was blood leaking from his mouth and he had a large knot sticking out of his forehead just above his right eye. I struggled to free myself but it was no use, I was held fast by the two pairs of handcuffs.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that, Ms. Boston,” the dentist said, gingerly surveying his forehead and chin with his fingertips.

“You murdered Margie,” I accused.

“It was an accident.”

“And was it an accident that her body ended up in your closet.”

“I can explain.”

“So can
I
.”

“Would you please shut up and let me explain!” Dr. Bester howled.

I shut my trap. I had no idea what the dentist was going to say, but whatever it was I was pretty sure that he was about to lay a whopper on me. He took a moment to compose himself before he started to speak.

“I was never going to hurt you, I just wanted you to stay seated and listen.”

I grudgingly gave him what he wanted by remaining silent.

“I had no great interest in Margie but it was obvious from the day I first hired her that she was interested in me. She kept dropping hints which I kept brushing aside. Finally, I asked her out one night for drinks—just the one time. I was going to tell her that the two of us were never going to be an item. I must have had too much to drink. Anyway, the thing is that rather than telling her to
lay
off we ended up sleeping together.”

I would have slapped his face if I’d had a free hand. By the look on his face I could tell that he recognized this fact through my tense expression.

“I know it was a mistake. But it was only the one time. Anyway, she ends up getting pregnant and claims the baby is mine from that one time. I called her a liar and we had a big row. Afterward, when I’d cooled off, I apologized. I offered to pay for the abortion but we ended up having another fight. She insisted that I marry her instead and I refused. This was just today, in this very office. Anyway, we got in a scuffle and she fell. She must have hit her head on something because she didn’t get back up. I didn’t know what to do.”

“So you hid her body in the closet?”

“Yes, just to buy some time so I could think. But then there was Mrs. Snelling and then you. I never got a chance to think.”

“Or to dispose of the body.”

The doctor stopped talking and looked me straight in the eyes.

“You’ve got a smart mouth considering your current situation,” he observed.

He was right. My words had done nothing to aid me in getting me out of this sticky situation. I stopped talking and let my head clear as I tried to think of something useful to say. All I came up with was, “And now it’s time for you to go to jail, you scumbag.” Realizing that wouldn’t help either, I opted to remain silent.

Just then as I lay waiting for what was to come next, I heard the sound of someone entering the waiting room out front. I needed no second prompting for my vocal cords to spring into action.

“Help!
Somebody help me!” I screamed.

But that was all I screamed before Dr. Bester clasped a hand firmly over my mouth. I bit down hard with my teeth and just managed to catch a portion of his palm.

“
Ow
!” Dr. Bester screamed, pulling his hand free from out of my teeth.

I was prepared to scream again when this time the doctor clasped both hands around my throat and started to squeeze. I tried to force my breath out of my lungs but found that it was halted just short of my voice box. I thrashed, kicking my feet, and managed to kick over the dentist’s tray of tools which clattered to the floor. I heard barking coming from outside the door as Blue threw her full weight against it, rocking the thing on its hinges. Next Blue started to scratch and claw, but that eventually came to an end.

I was beginning to see stars and was afraid that I might black out when someone opened the door.

“Is everything alright in here?” Dale Gordon asked, poking his head into the room.

When he saw me being strangled by the dentist he must surely have known that everything most definitely was not alright in the room, but still he hesitated. This being Gordon, I didn’t expect quality decision making; but to be kind, perhaps he thought the dentist was involved in a particularly rough procedure or trying to retrieve a tool he’d accidentally dropped down my throat. Whatever his reasons, I failed to see him act before losing consciousness.

I was eventually woken by a pair of strong hands shaking me quite violently. Of course, it was Gordon. I was still handcuffed to the chair so I missed a golden opportunity to punch him in the nose. And considering my current state I doubt he could have successfully pressed charges against me.

“Boston, are you alright?” Gordon asked, looking with concern into my blurry eyes.

“Dr. Bester, where is he?” I mumbled anxiously using dental patient speak.

“No, don’t worry. Blue is fine. Your dog is out in the waiting room.”