Free Fit To Be Dead (An Aggie Mundeen Mystery Book 1) by Nancy G. West Page B

Before I could concentrate on sniffing out Holly’s killer I had to get my mind off my grief. I was too distraught to attend class, but I simply couldn’t fail Aspects of Aging. Grad school was my chance to start over. I had to study.
    I plopped on the sofa, yanked the binder from the coffee table and flipped to Theories of Aging regarding Mr. Izumi’s 120-year lifespan. If he hadn’t succumbed to illness, could he have lived longer? Or had he approached some built-in, biological limit?
    Scientists split into two camps: Programmed Theorists believed Izumi had a biological limit. His cells either stopped dividing and died, or his immune system or hormones declined, leaving him susceptible to disease and death.
    I was already worried about my hormones. I cuddled the sofa’s throw pillows. Maybe the other group of scientists had a cheerier outlook. I straightened up and leafed through pages.
    Error Theorists thought people aged from wear and tear on vital parts of their cells and tissues. Quitting my bank job had undoubtedly helped me avoid wear and tear.
    These scientists also said that the faster an organism used oxygen, the shorter its life span. So I stood, inhaled and walked around breathing slowly to regulate my oxygen consumption. I grew bored and floated back to the couch.
    Error Theorists worried about cross-linked proteins and genetic mutations. Poor Mr. Izumi: his cells were subject to a variety of glitches. None of the scientists understood how he reached 120 years, but once he did, they agreed something was bound to get him.
    Maybe he’d planned to live 119 years and take a year to repent.
    Sinking back into the sofa, I flipped listlessly through the notebook, searching for keys to delay aging, and stopped at antioxidants. Some researchers thought vitamins C, E and beta-carotene fought oxidative damage, which hardened people’s arteries and led to heart disease. But other studies showed that when antioxidant vitamins invaded cells, cells stopped producing their own antioxidants, leaving free radical levels unchanged. Cells were stubborn. I might as well forget about taking antioxidants and stick to eating decent food.

Ten

      
    Focusing on my studies had helped ease the shock of Holly’s being hit by a car, but I suddenly realized I was famished. Grace and I had discussed going to Las Tapitas. Living in San Antonio taught me nothing was more therapeutic than Mexican food and Margaritas. I called her to confirm and stood on her porch within the hour.
    “Come on in while I put Boffo in the backyard. The yardman filled his escape hole.” I peeked in and watched the pooch follow her out the kitchen door. Maybe the mutt would bark the whole time we were gone and be too pooped to attack me when we returned. If I got lucky, he’d abscond permanently. Grace came back, apparently read my expression and put her hands on her hips.
    “Terriers and dachshunds were bred to hunt vermin in their native lands—to chase fox, otter, weasel, badger and rats out of earth dens. Your feet remind him of vermin, so he’s inclined to attack them. He can’t help it.”
    “I think I heard him in my yard last night.”
    “Really? Let’s check your side of the fence.” We traipsed outside her fence line to see where he’d escaped, while he howled from inside her yard. About six feet over in my yard we found a round hole where Muttface had probably surfaced.
    “He actually dug all the way through that tunnel into my yard?”
    “Looks like it. There must be a varmint in the tunnel, probably a rat. People who own this breed actually hold Earthdog competitions where dogs chase rats through tunnels and rout them out.”
    Boffo was a pest, but his digging prowess was amazing. With Earthdog training, this mutt might be a leading competitor.
    “His opening is blocked. I doubt he can get back in the tunnel. Next time Ernesto comes, I’ll ask him to fill the hole in your yard.”
    “No hurry.” This dog possessed incredible