The Season of Killing by Leigh Mayberry (reading books for 4 year olds .txt) 📗

Villages on no alcohol lists put citizens at risk for bootleggers. It also had problems for people who made their own ‘homebrew.’

Buying, selling, possessing, and consuming alcohol was illegal in Noorvik. Sometimes people thought beyond the obvious and had potentially more dangerous ways of getting drunk.

Singleton smelled like alcohol, not gasoline or another volatile chemical. Huffing gas was prevalent among younger people, teenagers, or adolescents who did it on dares. Sometimes it led to long-term use.

Meghan had encountered more industrious drinkers in her tenure in Alaska. Mouthwash was always a popular quick drink, cough syrup, real vanilla extract. People sometimes filtered multipurpose cleaners through coffeemakers before consuming them. Some people drank cocktails of soda and aftershave lotion. Sipping isopropyl alcohol usually partially blinded users and destroyed kidneys.

Sometimes people consumed benzalkonium chloride, a cationic surfactant found in aerosol disinfectants. They applied it to bread and ate the results. In its basic cleaning format, the contents under pressure needed venting before consumption. Puncturing aerosol cans made it easier to pour out contents into loaves of bread.

Narrowing down to what Singleton drank made the difference between living and dying for the woman.

“What did you drink tonight?” Meghan pinched Singleton’s forearm. A tactic she learned interviewing inebriated witnesses. It was nonlethal, and no one ever died from pinching.

Singleton’s eyes popped open. She looked at Meghan, standing on her left side.

“He’s going to kill me.” Her words fell out in one long slur. Her words made Meghan blood run as cold as the woman’s bare feet and hands.

“Who’s going to kill you?”

“He did it. He did it,” she said. Singleton rocked forward blubbering.

Meghan knew the woman was on her way up the alcohol roller coaster. Her body continued metabolizing the elixir. Her bloodshot watery eyes made it impossible to have the woman focus.

“It’s a wonder she made it here,” Eric said. He continued to rub the woman’s feet. A drunker person might have lost consciousness along the way. The rest of the villagers might stumble over the body in the snow or find it around springtime thaw.

Meghan leaned forward, trying to find the balance between the sober and the drunk. “Where is he?” she asked. Meghan pinched Singleton again. “Hey, Christine,” she shouted. “Who’s going to kill you?”

The answer, as easy as it was to say a name didn’t come immediately.

Meghan changed tactics, going after the lesser crime. “Who hit you?”

“He did! He knew I didn’t want no more to do with it.”

There was a lot to unpack in a few decipherable sentences. Meghan’s brain immediately tied the statements to the murderer and arsonist. However, a reasonable defense attorney could argue Singleton talked about the guy who ruined her laundry.

Meghan began going through Singleton’s coat pockets. Winter coats had a lot of places to hide weapons, drugs, and liquor. Evenly, carefully, Meghan checked each pocket, inside and out. She withdrew her hand from the outside right and left pockets with wads of $20 bills.

The other curious item Meghan removed from Singleton’s pocket was Hilma Fisher’s bank ATM card. They found their would-be thief.

“Hey, Christine, did you get this money from Hilma Fisher?”

“I didn’t want it!” Singleton screamed. She tried pulling away from Lester’s grip. Lester doubled his hold on her arm. Meghan stepped back off her left side. Eric Held the woman’s legs to the floor to keep her from kicking him. “I didn’t want it! I didn’t want it.” She continued to repeat the statement until her alcohol depression kicked in, replacing her words with sobs. Singleton made suck-suck sounds, her spittle dribbling over her chin. Snot glistened and dripped from her nostrils.

Singleton took a deep breath, drawing in spit and snot. “He did it! He took it!” Then her chin dropped to her chest.

Lester jerked up on Singleton’s arm as she slumped forward. Her eyes rolled in her skull. Any opening to get more from her closed after that, her body succumbed to the alcohol.

Meghan understood drinking large quantities of alcohol too fast caused the body to stop processing, passing out helped shut the mouth. However, blackouts added to short-term memory loss. The brain short-circuited, Meghan had a one hundred and forty-pound woman who needed several hours of sleep before she’d talk again.

Unfortunately, they still had nothing, and no one directly to blame. By the time Singleton woke up, she’d either not remember or recant the statement.

Meghan finished dressing for outside. She pulled on the snow pants and grabbed the ski cap and gloves. Lester and Eric transferred Singleton from the desk chair to the inflatable mattress.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Eric said. He checked Singleton’s eyes for dilation with a flashlight. Then he turned her on her side. If she vomited while passed out, Singleton wouldn’t aspirate.

“We should get more people to go,” Lester said. He put on his winter gear.

“I can’t consciously let civilians fall into harm’s way, Lester. We don’t know what’s going on until we know what Christine is talking about,” she said.

“It’s got to be Norman,” Eris said, squatting beside the air mattress.

“I think he’s right. Remember, when we interviewed these kids. Christine sat beside Norman. I saw them holding hands.”

“It’s weak,” Meghan said. “But we’ll see.”

“If we wait until we get back up—”

“Lester, we can’t wait until the troopers get here. Those kids already burned down a house to prove a point. What else can they do before the troopers show up? This is on us. If you’re not willing to go out there, that’s your call. But I will find another lieutenant who’s not afraid to step up when facing danger.”

Meghan stormed out of the building. She followed the path, allowing the door to swing shut behind her. Singleton’s way through the