Dead Weight Read Free Page A

just a phrase. Correct. Tell me it is just a stupid phrase.”
    â€œDon’t go letting the fact that people have gotten murdered in your past cases affect you so. It’s a stupid phrase, indeed, that he said so you don’t get him in trouble with the Naziburger.” He laughed. “I like that. Like the Soup Nazi.”
    I forced a laugh, even though nothing struck me as funny. Hopefully Goldie was right, but what I’d found out about myself since taking this job was that my instincts rarely, if ever, failed me, my intuition was on heightened alert (red), and my observational skills had zoomed to new hights.
    But yeah, Gold was correct. Henry was not a threat and this case would not involve death or any activities with a knife.
    I hated knives.
    The nurse who kept insisting that I take my clothing off was getting annoying.
    Not only was she bordering on Nurse Ratchet behavior, but also the “thing” as I started to think about her was a size zero if she was anything and wore her uniform way too tight to show off every shape and curve. What an insult to all the clients around here. I’d bet she even ate chocolate in front of them.
    And she acted as if I were some moron. How I would have loved to tell Missy Hilary Ragget (very appropriately close to Ratchet indeed) that I had a master’s degree in nursing and could work circles around her while she still emptied bedpans.
    Harrumph !
    â€œLook, Nurse Ragget, I will don a Johnny coat to be weighted in. I have a … condition … of not being able to get naked in front of anyone. I am … a Catholic .” She looked at me as if thinking that would never be a problem where sex was involved.
    Bitch.
    She waved her hand at me after looking at the clock. “Fine. Whatever. Doctor Burger doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
    Oh great. A temperamental doctor. What were the odds? I only hoped he could hear my heartbeat and breathing through this suit!
    Well, it turned out that the Naziburger was very un-Nazi like and a freaking hunk! Jet black hair, strong cheekbones and deep brown eyes (yum) made me wonder if his German ancestry might have mixed with the local American Indians along the way. He had their strong, handsome features.
    Not at all what I had expected after Henry’s take on him.
    â€œInhale a deep breath, Pauline,” he said and instead of breathing in, I sighed.
    â€œOh. Oops. Sorry.” I did as told, saying a silent prayer that he could hear that I actually did have a heart. I told myself that he was used to listening through large client’s chests so the suit shouldn’t pose a problem.
    â€œPlease weigh her, Hilary,” he said and gave me the most gracious smile.
    I knew, just knew, I could lose weight under the guidance of this doll.
    Even though that’s not what I was here for.
    Wow. Admittedly this guy had some Svengali qualities.
    Hilary did her thing, helping me up on this scale that went far past the three hundred mark and was much larger then the standard scales I’d seen in doctor’s offices. For a few seconds, she stared at the result (which I couldn’t see) and looked back and forth at the hunk doc.
    He started asking me questions about diet, exercise, family history, all which seemed to be an attempt to take my attention from the scale. Well, to be fair, he probably did that since weighing in could be very traumatic for some clients.
    Hilary called out a number.
    Doctor Burger hesitated, then wrote it down and muttered, “Thanks.”
    I had to crane my neck to see the scale before dear Hilary shoved me off of it, or at least tried. Then again, she had to be a weakling with that body. As I leaned forward, she pushed at my arm.
    Whoa.
    â€œGet down. You’re done.”
    â€œOh. Fine.” I coughed as if that would buy me time. I knew how much I weighted from my normal weight, and I knew the weight of the suit. Suddenly my eyes focused enough to