Beth looked at Tom for support and only got another question. “Can you describe the man who grabbed you?”
“No, not really, it’s true that it was dark. I wasn’t quite myself.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He seemed more inclined to believe Dani than her.
She turned to Wyatt but his focus was on Tom as he stepped forward with outstretched hand. “Happy to meet you, Tom. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
He acted like nothing had happened at the river. It made Beth so mad.
“Nice to meet you.” Tom barely took his worried gaze off of Beth.
She could hardly look at him, seeing how he was appraising her. She had never snooped through a guest’s room before. She had never taken hard liquor two nights in a row before. She was a beer drinker; she didn’t have a problem. But she had seen a fat man at the river, damn it. It took more than a few ounces of scotch to confuse a brain so badly. Shoot, it wasn’t like she was becoming some kind of raging alcoholic.
****
Sunday breakfast was hard for Beth. Dani and Wyatt were elaborately nice to her, their poor, demented, body-finding landlady. Renada and Robert listened to the story and joined in the chorus of voices urging her not to embarrass herself by sharing it with anybody else. They knew the load she was under. It was no shame to trip over a log by the river and to mistake it for a man’s body. Kids must have taken the leaky boat.
She wanted to scald the lot of them with bacon grease.
Robert’s and Renada’s body language indicated an unsuccessful first date. They had arrived home the night before right after Tom. When Beth had taken some requested bath salts to Renada, she’d told Beth they had been up to Calumet to introduce her to Robert Matthews’s mother. Renada had very much liked the dark old brick mansion Mrs. Matthews stubbornly tried to maintain alone, but had liked her very little. Well, that was Robert’s problem.
What hurt most this morning was Tom’s attitude. She’d expected him to give her tale more credence. She paused to wonder if he had a connection to the fat man by the river. She stayed in the kitchen as long as she could, but finally, with every dish on the table, she had to sit down and join them.
“So, Danielle, you’re not a student then?” Wyatt queried.
“No. I’m more like a tourist.” He waited for her to say more. She didn’t.
He turned to Renada. “And are you enrolled at the university?”
“No. I am a visitor to this country. I had thought to stay for a while.” She inspected Robert like she might a smudge on her table napkin. “Now I am not so sure.”
“Oh. And I guess you’re not a student either, Robert?”
“No, Wyatt, I’m chief financial officer for a local entrepreneur.”
“He keeps records for a shopkeeper in the town,” grumbled Renada.
Wyatt persisted with the grilling. “So you’ve been here a while, Robert?”
“It’s been three months or so. But I only recently moved to Beth’s place after a mobile home I was using was damaged.”
The downstairs hall telephone rang and Beth went to answer it, glad of the distraction from Wyatt’s persistent inquiries. In her most professional tone she announced, “Kessler’s Inn, this is Beth.”
“Hello. May I speak to Mr. Thomas Hawk, please?”
“I can check. May I tell him who is calling?”
“Sure. This is Officer Makinen of the university police. Your place is just up the river a bit from the highway bridge, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes.”
“I see. Can you get Mr. Hawk?”
“Sure.” She went to the table and whispered to Tom to come to the phone. “It’s the campus cop.”
He put his mouth to her ear. His barely noticeable cologne was vastly superior to Robert’s olfactory blitzkrieg of the night before, she noted with satisfaction. He cursed, “Damn it. He must have learned I’m here from that housing voucher.”
She admired the view as he rose to go to the hall. Then she remembered she was pissed with him for accepting the common view that she was a delusional drunkard. Plus he had some of the cockiness too common to handsome men.
Robert was expounding to Wyatt on the bright future of Grantronics Electrical Technology, a firm of Gary’s which Beth knew to own two soldering irons and a broken oscilloscope. She found an excuse to go to the back of the house for paper napkins, passing Tom at the telephone. He might be a jerk who didn’t believe her story from last night, but he did smell good. Looked good. Let it go. He’s not interested. And you’re not so sure about him. She killed two minutes fussing in the storage room, and was about to go back to her rapidly cooling breakfast with the table napkins when Tom came into the room and closed the door. He held a finger to his lip.
“What?” she snapped, not all that quietly, telling him he couldn’t shush her in her own house.
Just above a whisper he said, “The state police have a fat man’s body at the hospital morgue. It was found in the brush piled up against the bridge a few hundred feet downstream from here.”
“Ohmigod. Found it now, today?”
“Yes. Some preacher who fishes there before he does his Sunday service saw it.”
She should have said, “Oh, my, a man has died, how terrible.” Instead her words were, “So now do you believe I found someone by the river?”
“I believe you saw something down there. I’m not sure you got it just right.”
Damn it, what an infuriating man. Then she digested what he and the policeman together had told her. “Wait, I don’t get it. We didn’t report anything last night. Why did a cop call here? And why a campus cop asking for you, not me?” He backed away from her onslaught. “Why, Tom?”
“This fat guy they found in the river was in my dorm room when it caught fire.”
“So you know him?”
“No. I don’t, but I have to go to the morgue and look at him. After that I have to leave here. I have to move on. I don’t expect any rent refund.”
What the hell was this? “Hold on. Not so fast. Someone you don’t know was in a dorm room you hadn’t moved into, so you have to bug out and stick me with an empty room?” Tom Hawk wasn’t only conceited, he was thoughtless.
He was angry too, now. “Hey, your damn room was empty a day ago. I said you can keep the two week’s rent, didn’t I? I have to go.”
“Go where? Your car is wrecked. This fat man does have something to do with you. You’re a terrible liar.”
He moved back close to her. “You’re pushy, and tactless as an innkeeper.”
“You lack appeal as a guest. You don’t have a car or the money to go anywhere else. If you’re in money trouble you can stay here free for a while and pay me later, you preening, egotistical jerk.”
He reddened, paused, took hold of her and kissed her. Maybe she was supposed to slap him, but her arms went around him and she kissed him back—hard. She felt him hardening too. It wouldn’t have stopped there if there had been any padded or reasonably clean, flat surface in the storeroom.
After a deep breath, she pushed away and begged, “What’s really wrong? Why are you afraid? I’ll know if you’re lying.”
He shook his head vigorously, then slowly, then made a surrender gesture with his hands. He was capable of vulnerability, for Pete’s sake.
He talked and she listened, mesmerized. He had discovered a mob murder after a couple days working in a California pizza joint. An aging jockey in the secret employment of a tinhorn mobster had failed to lose a big race as instructed. For this insubordination, the little man had been fired, prompting him to threaten to tell all. He had been roasted in a pizza oven and Tom had stumbled on the crime scene.
The cops had moved him to one of those new witness protection safe houses in Arizona. He had been tracked there, and had barely escaped alive to flee to Houghton. A shot meant for him had winged a paper boy and Tom was irrationally hung up on that kid’s injury. He was certain the body in the river belonged to so
meone from California looking for him. It was a lot to process before breakfast was done.
“You’re not leaving, you’re staying here.”
“Beth, I may have no choice but to get out.”
“No. We can talk about it later. Look, if the body in the river isn’t the man I saw, these California people may not have found you here. I’m coming with you to see the body.”
“That’s a bad idea. If you come, you may have to tell the police the truth, whatever it means.”
“I’m coming, so deal with it.”
“Pushy broad.”
“Conceited jerk.” She was the one to kiss him this time. Then she said, “We have to get back to the breakfast table. The others will be wondering what we’re doing.”
****
They had been away from the dining room for maybe ten minutes, and it seemed a lifetime. Beth and Tom sat down almost unnoticed.
Dani was saying to Robert, “You need to stop defending Gary Grant. I told you how he screwed me, how he…”
She looked at Beth. “You got some bad news.”
Beth opened her mouth and couldn’t speak. Tom came to her rescue. “That was the police. The dead body of a man was found by the river this morning. Beth and I have to go and look at it.”
“Why—why did they call here?” stammered Renada.
Beth looked at her, puzzled. “I imagine we’re the closest house, that’s all.”
Wyatt asked, “Did you tell them you thought you saw a man at the river, Beth?”
“No. Only Tom spoke to them.”
Four heads turned to Tom, who remained silent.
“The fat guy you saw wasn’t Big Ben Whitefish from the tribe was it, Beth?” Robert wanted to know.
“No. I mean, I don’t know. I really can’t even describe his face as I sit here.”
“Then there’s no need to mention it or for you to get involved. It’s a coincidence.”
Renada piled on, “Yes, coincidence. There’s no need to bring bad publicity on the inn when you’re just getting established. It can only cause trouble for everybody. In East Berlin we had bodies popping up all the time. I could tell you such stories; it would knot your hair.”
“Curl your hair,” corrected Dani.
“Beth, they’re right. Just forget about the whole thing last night,” pressed Wyatt.
“A man is dead,” Beth answered sharply. Why was Wyatt, who’d just arrived wet behind the ears, telling her what to do?
“Why did they ask for you and not just talk to Beth, Tom?” demanded Robert.
He was a while in answering. At last he said, “They seem to think this man was in my dorm at the time of the fire. So what? Beth will take me to town to look at the body and make them happy. I’m sure it doesn’t concern her or me. Right, Beth?”
“Right,” she confirmed, with what she hoped passed for conviction.
Renada pivoted in her chair. “I have identified bodies in the GDR. It is an awful thing to have to do. I want to come with you, Beth.”
“Not a good idea. There’s no reason for you to see the body. They’ll ask more questions,” said Tom, and four heads nodded assent.
Renada stood as if about to give a toast to the table. “Very well, I did not want to alarm you people, but I too saw a fat man on this property before Robert and I went to dinner. I made nothing of it then, but it could be important if it is the same man. I must come along.”
Beth turned to Tom. He said, “Okay, let’s go.”
“Just make sure it’s not Big Ben Whitefish,” whimpered Robert.
Beth’s stomach started churning again. “I’ll get the station wagon.”
****
After the miserably cramped Nash and the lethargic Plymouth, Tom enjoyed driving Beth’s relatively spacious, relatively powerful station wagon. He had Renada, who had beaten Beth to the front passenger door, beside him and Beth in the back seat. What was the deal with Renada, so concerned about an unknown corpse? She was like a box of jigsaw pieces from different puzzles. She was blatantly sucking up to Beth while ignoring Robert, who was supposedly the reason she had come here.
She had been impoverished in East Germany, but Robert told Tom the rest of her family had become wealthy as God while West Germany boomed, and she’d had a few months to get used to it. So why was she here in the backwoods of Michigan? Somebody must have painted a glowing picture of Robert.
Officer Makinen was there to greet them in the hospital lobby. “Three of you, Mr. Hawk?”
“Miss Schneider is a personal guest of Miss Kessler. She may have seen a man near the house yesterday and she can take a look too, if you want. It’s up to you.”
“Oh. I’ll get you the state man. He can decide who sees his show.”
The state cop greeted them courteously. Tom was surprised when he and the medical examiner, or whoever the guy in the white coat was, agreed to show the stiff to the women. Soon they were gathered around the draped body on the morgue table. He thought Renada showed an unseemly anticipation as the white coat guy pulled a sheet off of the face. It was an ugly man but, to his relief, no one Tom recognized. His skin was dark enough to be from California and he looked vaguely Italian. Then again, Upper Michigan was full of Italian-Americans.
“Well, Mr. Hawk?”
“I have no idea who this is. I’ve never seen him before.”
“How about you, Miss Kessler, do you know who this is?”
“No, I don’t know him, Officer.”
Tom saw concern in her face. She didn’t know him, but he bet she recognized him as her man.
“Very well. What about you, miss?” The cop focused on Renada.
Renada shook her head too. “I have never seen this person.” She had a look close to disappointment on her face, but Tom believed she, unlike Beth, was being truthful.
Renada wanted to know, “What happened to his head? What are the shaved spots on each side?”
The white coat guy, who had been silent, became animated. “Oh, that’s what’s so fascinating. Each contusion is from a different event. He may not have drowned at all. The autopsy will…”
The cop all but clapped a hand over the guy’s mouth. “Sam, these people don’t need to know all that. Thanks, folks. We’re done in here.”
He herded them away, away from the corpse and its excited keeper. Out of the morgue, he had a couple questions they couldn’t answer. They signed something and headed to the station wagon. Beth beat Renada to the front seat this time, but the German seemed not to care. She was off in some unhappy private world since seeing the corpse. The cop and the white coat guy were out of the hospital too before Tom had the car in gear. The Green Bay Packers/Chicago Bears football game was starting, Tom recalled.
When they got back to the B&B, Tom noticed for the first time a new gold Pontiac Firebird parked in the lot. Wyatt Stone had some pretty nice wheels for a grad student. He, Robert, and Dani were sitting in the parlor watching the football game. The three rushed to the hall when they heard Tom open the front door.
Robert spoke first. “Was it Ben Whitefish, Beth?”
“No, it was no one. I mean, no one from around here. None of us recognized him.”
“It was a brutish, pale-faced fellow,” Renada said. “He was grossly fat. I had thought from Beth’s description… But it is of no importance.”
Robert gave them a high sign and thumped Beth on the shoulders. “All right then.” He grinned and went back to the television. Renada headed up the stairs.
Dani spoke. “Well, the great thing is whoever drowned, it has nothing to do with us. I told you not to worry, Beth, honey. Last night you had a sleepwalking nightmare, nothing more.”
“I guess maybe so.”
Dani must have lost interest in the Packers, because she too headed up to her room.
“How long do you think it will be before Vince Lombardi retires?” Wyatt questioned Robert.
“The man will die screaming his lungs out on those sidelines.”
&
nbsp; Tom saw Beth glance at him. She had been avoiding eye contact ever since the sheet had come off the face of the corpse. She couldn’t possibly think he might have murdered the fat man, could she?
****
Tom took Beth to the hall while Robert and Wyatt shouted encouragement to a pass receiver. He said, “It was the same guy, wasn’t it? The one in the morgue was the one at the river. I appreciate your trying to shield me, but for your own protection you should have told the cops about him.”
“I didn’t exactly lie. I’m not sure it was the same guy. Hell, I don’t know if I did see a man. There are people here who will tell the cops that I’m a drunk or a mental case if I say I did. We’ve got enough trouble, you and I.” She headed to her breakfast dishes. Her body language warned, Don’t follow me.
He went to his room, wanting to avoid company more than he wanted to see the Bears and Packers on the big TV. He was afraid to call Claire or Greg at his golf store for fear of a tap on their lines now, a tap by the Feds or worse. He was afraid that the dead man had been sent to find him and had come close to succeeding. Beth was not handling it well. He fantasized running away from here with her until this thing was over. No, she was right about him having an excessive opinion of his own charm. She wasn’t nearly ready for that. And he still had no car or money.
If he was going to eat three meals a day he had to get some hours of paid work from Gary Grant. He went out to the hall phone and dialed, not knowing if Gary would answer or if he’d fled the state until the elders cooled off. He did answer.
“Hello, Gary here.”
Gary’s TV was on in the background, which was reassuring. Men fearful of being eviscerated by their Native American business partners didn’t sit around watching football.
“It’s Tom Hawk, Gary. Uh, you were about to give me a work assignment yesterday when we were interrupted by the gentlemen from the tribe.”
Gary laughed derisively. “Moe, Curley, and Larry you mean. The natives remain restless, but I can handle it.”
“I heard you’re sporting a shiner, though.”
“I tripped and fell against a totem pole. You worry too much. Hey, where are you calling from, anyway, Tomahawk?”
Hiding Tom Hawk Page 9