Free Something Suspicious in Sask by Dayle Gaetz

seriously. “What makes you think Megan needs help?”
    â€œI don’t know. I just figure something’s, like, really wrong and Megs can’t handle it herself.” Emily’s mouth twisted. “But she won’t talk to me about it, that’s for sure. Or Scott either. We’re kinda worried she might have, like, anorexia nervosa.”
    â€œAnorexia nervosa?” Rusty snorted. “What’s that? Some kind of dinosaur?”
    â€œNo, Dumbo,” Katie said, “it means she will eat hardly anything because she thinks she’s fat. We talked about it at school last year.”
    â€œMegan? Fat? She looks like a walking skeleton.”
    â€œAnorexia is an eating disorder,” Emily explained. “I looked it up on the web. It’s, like, something wrong with the dopamine receptors in the brain. Or, whatever. Seems like it’s mostly girls who get it and they, like, basically stop eating. It’s like the only way they can control their lives is to not eat. If they eat anything, they feel guilty, even if it’s just like, salad or something. And they never stop exercising.”
    â€œHow come they don’t starve to death?” Katie wondered, thinking about Megan’s bone-thin arms.
    â€œThat’s the thing. No matter how skinny they get, they still aren’t happy. They’re hungry but can’t admit it. Some girls get to the point where they can’t eat, even to save their own lives.”
    â€œThat’s sick!” Rusty said.
    â€œYeah,” Emily agreed. “It’s, an illness, you know?
    One thing I read said anorexia has, like, the highest death rate of any psychiatric disease.”
    â€œWhoa!” Rusty said. “That explains why she’s skinny like a bone and grumpy as a turtle.”
    â€œA turtle?” Katie asked.
    â€œYeah, you know those snapping turtles? When they’re hungry, they snap at anything that comes near them. And Megan is hungry all the time.”
    Katie rolled her eyes and turned back to Emily.
    â€œJust ignore him,” she said. “He’s way weird.”
    â€œBut he’s right.” Emily’s eyes misted over. “That’s exactly Megan. She’s always hungry, but she won’t eat. She’s wasting away.”
    Emily drained her mug, placed it on the wicker table and stood up. “I don’t know how to help her. And her mom’s so busy worrying about the farm, she doesn’t even notice anything’s wrong.” She started for the door. “I need to, like, thank Megan’s mom for inviting me. Then I’m gone.”
    â€œWait!” Katie said. “Could you help me meet up with Scott? I need to question him.”
    Emily turned back, a half smile on her lips. “You sure do like asking questions, don’t you?” She rested her hand on the doorjamb. “Okay, give me your cell number and I’ll, like, call you tomorrow.”
    Katie opened her phone to check the number then wrote it on the small pad tucked in the front pocket of her new notebook. She ripped off the sheet and handed it to Emily.
    After Emily rattled off in her parents’ battered blue truck, Katie and Rusty remained on the porch. Katie wrote notes on everything Emily had told her, a crucial part of any investigation, so she wouldn’t forget the smallest detail.
    In some remote part of her mind Katie realized Rusty was bent over his sketchbook. She began to wonder what he was drawing. She looked up. He was lost in his work, sketching furiously.
    Rusty had always loved to draw, and even though Katie would hate to admit it to him, she admired his skill. She knew he never wanted anyone to see a drawing until it was done and she respected that. So she tried to resist standing up and moving close enough for a good look.
    Her good intentions lasted for at least ten seconds. Then she reminded herself that, like all good detectives, she was born to snoop.