The Harem on the Hill (Part XC) (Patreon)

Jada's home is filthy.  It isn't quite to the grotesque level of homes featured on Hoarders, but it was clearly occupied by someone who had given up giving a fuck.  The floor is littered with clothes and wrappers from a buffet of fast-food establishments--McDonald's, Taco Bell, Dairy Queen, and a few you're not familiar with.  Probably regional eateries you either hadn't frequented or, by the height of the trash piles, had gone out of business.  This had obviously been going on for a long time.  You fish a black blouse from the sea of detritus.  It's a size 16.

A very long time.

You resist the urge to race home to take a shower and push through the trash toward the kitchen.  The unpleasant odor that accompanies the refuse is gradually masked by one both pleasant and familiar.  And eliminates any doubt in your mind as to the existence of an accomplice in Jada's untimely demise.

It's the distinct aroma of Cornucupia's House Roast.  Your favorite.

Sure enough, the only signs of life in the kitchen come from the coffee pot.  The orange glow of its burner light draws your eye just as its gentle gurgle draws your ear.  Using a filthy rag from the counter, you lift the carafe.  It's full.  Since it won't take long for detectives to realize that Jada was in no shape to brew coffee, you quickly pour the pot down the sink, switch off the burner, and tuck the newly opened bag of House Roast, which had been placed conspicuously in an open space on the counter, under your arm.

The rest of the kitchen appears to be clean—of incriminating evidence if nothing else. If there are other clues buried in the avalanche of empty food containers, you don’t have time to look for them.

Next, you follow the foot-worn path through the trash like a trail in the woods towards Jada’s bedroom. As you approach, the lingering odor of coffee is replaced by a much more insidious smell—

Death.

The first thing you notice is the deep depression in the middle of her unmade mattress. It reminds you of a meteor crater. The dark stains around its rim and at its center appear to be the residue of various foodstuffs. You’d prefer not to speculate about it being anything else.

The next thing you notice is a tube protruding from beneath the bed. It’s about the diameter of a quarter and is caked in brown batter. As you move to investigate, however, the slam of a car door accompanies voices outside--

“If someone eats themselves to death, is that considered an open and shut case?”

“That isn’t funny.”

Fortunately, the first responders had left the bedroom window open to fumigate the place, alerting you to the approaching detectives. Unfortunately, the familiar voice of the second one makes you realize that you may be in more trouble than you thought.

It’s Officer Dean Petty, the man whose erstwhile partner was currently a prized pig in your pen.

You hurriedly remove the tube from under the bed. It’s affixed to a red funnel coated with the same brownish residue. Clutching the apparatus in your arms, you race from the room and down the hall, ducking beneath the police tape into the backyard just as the front door opens. Knowing there’s a line of sight from the front door to the back, you press against the outside wall and wait.

"You check the bedroom.  I'll check the kitchen."

"What specifically am I looking for?"

"Signs this girl's suicide might've been assisted."

"By someone other than Ben and Jerry?"

"Right."

"What about Little Debbie?  Or would she be considered a minor?"

"Just keep your mouth shut and your eyes open."

You give the men a few seconds to reach their respective positions, then you dart across Jada’s barren backyard. You expect to hear “Freeze!” at any second, but miraculously make it to the fence line unmolested. After hurriedly tossing the funnel and the coffee over, you scale it yourself, landing in the neighbor’s garden. Gathering up the paraphernalia, you retrace your steps through the manicured yard back to your vehicle.

This is bad. Although you were able to remove a couple of pieces of incriminating evidence, you’re certain there’s more, and with Officer Petty leading the investigation rather than some Podunk detective, you have little faith in it going undiscovered or being dismissed in favor of a quiet resolution.

You don’t have many options. In fact, you can only think of one that could possibly save your skin and that of your fattened harem girls. You need to find the true culprit.

You need to find Tina Jordan.

(Nota Bene: No choices this time. As mentioned in the last installment, there was a tie in the voting so the next chapter will follow the story branch of the poll’s co-winner: "Find Tina.")