Drinking Bird

Dr. Pam Leinert started digging into the lives of the last six suicides in Warren County. In all cases, she was the Medical Examiner who signed off on the cause of death.  Speaking with a patient's physicians and mental health providers goes above and beyond, but something weird is happening. 

Leinert looked around Dr. Millicent Xanthos-Ashworth's waiting room. Pam found it pleasant, with a lemony scent and tasteful original art on the walls. The constant hum of a white noise generator masked the sound of conversations inside her office while she treated a patient. 

Dr. Ashworth canceled her next appointment, freeing time to speak with Dr. Leinert. "I believe the patient was experiencing something abnormal, and it's worth talking about, Ashworth said to Dr. Leinert during a phone call the day before.

While she waited, Pam could not get last night out of her mind. She and Sargeant Haskins accidentally ran into each other at the bar at Sip Ho's Dumplings, and they loosened up with each other. The Mai Tais helped, and the food was good.  

Better than the food and drink was the conversation that flowed. Haskins is smart, she thought, funny and so good looking out of uniform..and his lifejacket. 

Pam and Bob worked late last night if anyone asked their respective spouses.

Pam coldly did not care. Her husband confessed to having a three-month affair in the previous year, which created a sheet of ice in Pam's heart.

She maintained at home, getting Merrilee ready for school, cooking meals, and watching Netflix together, but Pam was finished with her husband. 

She would tell him someday, maybe after Merrilee finished middle and high school. 

Was this a nonstarter, Leinert thought? He never touched on his wife or two kids but said he told his wife he was working late.

Last night, they talked about  Ohio State football, their mutual love for the Green Bay Packers, and their favorite Dave Chappelle bits. They laughed and, at one point, touched hands while sitting at the dark bar with the sweet, delicious, and very potent drinks.

As they stepped out into the cold air, Leinert was not tipsy when he walked her to her truck.  When they got to the driver's side of her vehicle, he held her at her waist, looked down, and kissed her lips. She was hungry for more as she leaned into his chest and smelled him. 

They laughed, and she looked up and saw millions of stars looking down. There was no place they could go, and it made no sense to linger, but they both wanted to.

She kissed him and said, "No Calls, No Texts; we will figure it out, Bob."

Bob looked at her and said, "Go slow and keep quiet."

He then asked her, "Have you ever boiled a rabbit?"

"Fatal Attraction scared the crap out me."

She started laughing out loud, happy and looking forward to whatever, and she punched him in the chest, saying, "You have nothing to be afraid of with me. I keep a stable ship. And so do you."

They laughed and said goodnight.

She smiled at the memory, and Dr. Ashworth's office door opened.

Pam looked at the large woman and was a bit taken aback by neck tattoos, a face that had been shaped by years of smoking, and a booming, hearty voice that announced, "I'm Dr. Xanthos-Ashworth Dr. Leinert; please call me Millie."

Looking into her eyes, Pam saw miles of well-traveled road and something else—a woman at peace with herself.

"Call me Pam, Millie."

"Where did you Med School?"

"I'm an Eli Med, Nittany Lion Undergrad."

"I started my education late after a few interesting but dead-end roads on the back of a Harley. How about you?"

"I'm all Buckeye Millie without any interesting dead ends unless you count my marriage."

Millie laughed, saying, "We must speak about Quinney Macklin, who took a swan dive off the I-71."

"C'mon in, I have a story for you."

Her office was undecorated except for one wall that held framed diplomas.

The single decorative item on her desk beside an iPad was one of those toy-drinking birds bobbing its beak up and down into a glass of water. Pam found herself staring at it when Millie said...

Quinney was hearing a constant voice or, better said, a radio commercial...

Pam raised her hand and asked Millie, "Was it a commercial for Peachy Rainbow Soap?"  

Millie pushed her glasses down her nose and looked at Dr. Leinert. "Yes, it was just for that. How do you know? You can't listen to a brain during a post-mortem."

Pam looked at Millie and made an executive decision to trust her.

"The last six suicides in the county were all by people complaining of not being able to stop hearing a Peachy Rainbow Soap commercial in their heads."

"Three jumpers, two hangers, and one cutter with opioid support." All complaining to health professionals about the same thing.

Pam asked, "Do you read the "On The Couch" thread on the net? It's a chatter point for mental health professionals."

Pam did not mention to Millie that Dr. Flemishjohn started the thread about Peachy Rainbow Soap reportings, which he had discussed at last year's ADAA conference in Las Vegas.

She also did not mention that the Doctor was now dead. 

Pam asked Millie, "Do you have other patients complaining about anything similar?"

Millie was thinking hard and said, "No." "But something is going on."

Pam thought that these suicides, coupled with the shooting death of Dr. Flemishjohn, meant that something indeed was going on.

Millie and Pam then spoke extensively about Millie's patient, Quinney Macklin. 

"I think this is about to explode, so I would appreciate confidentiality until we figure out how we will proceed. Something stinks." Pam said as she stood and extended her hand to Millie.

"Millie, Great to meet you. Let's have coffee soon; I know you have stories!"

"That would be fantastic. Let's do that."

Pam took another look at the "Drinking Bird" and laughed. "I Love That."

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