‘No, ma’am,’ Willis said. ‘We’ll be here to help Miss Hutchins in any way we can.’
I smiled up at my man, glad he was taking that attitude – for once.
She looked back down at Diamond Lovesy. ‘You settled, now? No more funny stuff?’
Diamond nodded, her head down, tears falling on her bejeweled and bejangled poncho. ‘Whatever,’ she said.
Mary Mays stood looking at Diamond for a long moment, finally turning to Miss Hutchins. ‘Ma’am, you doing OK with these people?’
‘Yes, they’re fine,’ she said, not able to look anywhere near Diamond.
‘Then I’ll take my leave. You call me, ma’am, if they get up to anything, you hear?’
‘Of course, Mary,’ Miss Hutchins said, getting up and walking the officer to the front door. ‘And please tell your grandmother thank you for the preserves she sent over.’
I could see Mary Mays smile. ‘Yeah, Nana makes some mean peach preserves, huh?’
‘The best!’ Miss Hutchins said, holding the door open while the officer slipped out to her patrol car.
Once she was gone, Diamond Lovesy stood up and headed for the stairs. I stopped her. ‘I think you owe Miss Hutchins an apology,’ I said.
‘No, no,’ Miss Hutchins said. ‘She’s upset. It’s excusable.’
‘It most certainly isn’t!’ I said.
Diamond stiffened. ‘I meant what I said. Every word of it. I’m afraid to eat or drink anything here – afraid I’ll be poisoned. I’m afraid to go to sleep, lest my own neck be broken!’ she said, her voice growing louder and turning into a high falsetto.
‘You are such a bitch!’ I said.
‘Did you just lose your best friend?’ she yelled at me. ‘No? Well, I did! And it’s because of this house, this evil, evil house! If I were you, I’d take my worthless husband and go sleep in the car! One of you may be next!’ With that, she lurched up the stairs to her room.
‘I am not worthless!’ Willis said. ‘On paper, I’m worth plenty!’
I patted his arm and kissed his cheek. ‘Yes, you are, honey. Even off paper, you’re worth more than a dozen phony psychics.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, mustering up some dignity. ‘You’re right. She’s a bitch.’
‘All right, you two,’ Miss Hutchins said, heading back into the dining room toward the thermos of hopefully still warm coffee. ‘Like she said, we didn’t just lose our best friend. She’s distraught.’
We all sat at the dining table and poured ourselves the last bit of coffee in the thermos. When we’d consumed that, I said, ‘Well, nothing to it but to do it, Miss Hutchins. You ready to see what’s missing, if anything?’
She sighed and stood up. ‘You’re right. Besides, what else do we have to do?’
Personally, I could think of several things – all the reasons I’d booked this B&B and driven over one hundred miles to this little town for – like going antique shopping, checking out the galleries and boutiques, or just heading upstairs and jumping my husband. Looking out the windows I could see a lovely day beginning. Spring flowers were blooming, the sun was brightening the sky and the land, and I could see people walking to church and children dancing around their parents, all in their Sunday best. It was like a scene painted by Norman Rockwell, except the men wore bolo ties and the little boys had cowboy boots on their feet.
‘So what do you need me to do?’ Willis asked.
‘Nothing, I guess,’ I said.
He looked at Miss Hutchins. ‘Where’s your TV?’ he asked.
‘Oh, dear,’ she said. ‘I don’t have one. It broke back in the late seventies and I just never replaced it. Is that going to be a problem?’ she asked, wringing her hands.
I glared at Willis. He smiled at Miss Hutchins and said, ‘No, of course not. I think I’ll take a walk outside. It’s a lovely morning.’
Miss Hutchins smiled widely. ‘It certainly is!’ She moved closer to Willis and I could hear her semi-whisper in his ear, ‘And there’s a bar about a block down that plays all the football on Sundays.’ She giggled. ‘If you’re interested.’
Willis looked up and smiled at me. ‘See ya,’ he said, and headed out the door.
BACK HOME
Once alone in the minivan, Logan said, ‘I’m so sorry I got y’all mixed up in this.’
‘Don’t be,’ Bess said, touching his arm. She didn’t seem able to help herself. She loved touching him. Loved the way it made her feel. ‘That’s sort of a family tradition – getting mixed up in things that are basically none of our business.’
He sighed. ‘See? That’s what I’m saying. It’s not your business, it’s mine, and I don’t want you to get hurt, Bess. I really, really don’t!’
‘I don’t want you hurt either,’ Bess said, eyes glued to the road. ‘And I’m going to do everything I can to see that doesn’t happen. Me and my sisters, too.’
‘Look, y’all tried, I’ll give you that. But I just don’t see that there’s anything more you can do. I’m in deep shit and I know it. Maybe I should tell my folks what’s going on.’
‘Can you wait?’ Bess asked. ‘Just let me talk to my sisters and see if we can come up with something.’
Logan sighed again. ‘We close at nine on Sundays. Then I’m going home and telling them.’
‘I’ll get back to you before then. Give me your cell phone.’ They punched in each other’s numbers once they’d reached the restaurant, then Logan opened the door of the minivan to get out. He hesitated, then turned and leaned in to Bess, who met him halfway. The kiss was hot and sweet and took her breath away. She wanted to keep on doing exactly that for the next hundred years or so. He broke away and smiled. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said.
‘If not sooner,’ she said, and blushed.
Meanwhile, back at the Pugh home, Megan was working on a plan. ‘So when Bess gets back—’
‘If she gets back,’ Alicia said, despondent.
‘What?’ Megan asked.
‘Nothing,’ Alicia said.
Megan, who was rarely interested in anything that didn’t directly involve her, took Alicia at face value and continued. ‘Anyway, when she gets back, we get in the minivan and head to Harper’s house, park a couple of houses down and wait until we see the mother and brother leave so we can get Harper on her own—’
‘What makes you think they’re gonna leave?’
‘It’s Sunday! They’ll go to church, surely.’
‘We’re not going! And even if they do go,’ Alicia said, ‘wouldn’t Harper go with them?’
‘Not necessarily. She is pregnant, and Logan said there was a baby bump, so maybe her mom doesn’t want the people at church to know.’
‘They may not even be religious,’ Alicia said. ‘Lots of people aren’t.’
‘They’ll leave for some reason,’ Megan said.
‘Not necessarily—’
‘Jeez, Alicia! Could you be more of a wet blanket? Let’s just go surveil, see what we see.’
Alicia shrugged. ‘I don’t think you can use that as a verb.’
‘What?’ Megan asked, frowning.
‘Surveil.’
‘Of course you can!’
Alicia sighed. ‘Anyway, this sounds like a big old waste of time, but whatever.’
‘You can always stay here!’ Megan said.
Alicia thought about what she might do alone in the house with nothing but her thoughts to occupy her. Maybe she’d call Graham. Maybe that wouldn’t be a very good idea. ‘No, no,’ she said. ‘I’m coming.’ She sighed. Anything was better than being alone right now.
They heard the minivan pull into the driveway and Megan jumped up. ‘Come on then!’ she said, grabbed her imitation Gucci purse and headed for the back door.
‘Jeez, all right already!’ Alicia said, and followed her foster sister out the door.
Bess had just turned the van off when her two sisters piled in, Megan riding shotgun and Alicia relegated to the back seat. ‘What?’ Bess sai
d, frowning at Megan.
‘We have a plan!’ Megan announced.
Bess sighed. ‘I’m almost afraid to ask.’
‘We’re going to surveil Harper’s house and wait for her brother and mother to leave,’ Megan said.
‘Can you use that as a verb?’ Bess asked.
‘Shut up. I have a plan!’ Megan said.
‘And what if they don’t leave?’ Bess asked.
‘Gawd! You and Alicia both! Jeez, have some faith, you two! Drive, woman.’
And so Bess started the van again, backed down the driveway and headed out.
Our search of the house showed there were several things missing that could have been taken the night before by whoever had made the dragging noise: a Wedgwood vase Miss Hutchins’ mother had gotten in England on her honeymoon, which had adorned one of the built-in bookcases in the living room; a small lithograph that had hung on the wall next to the fireplace for several generations; an antique pitcher and basin that had been in the first bedroom upstairs, the one that had been occupied by Humphrey Hammerschultz; and several spoons from Miss Hutchins’ mother’s spoon rack that occupied a place of honor on the ornate hutch in the dining room. We found the missing spoons in one of the drawers of the hutch; she remembered Uncle Herbert bumping into the bookcase during one of his many drunken stupors and knocking over the Wedgwood vase, which fell to the hardwood floor and shattered into a million pieces. The lithograph, she finally remembered, had been sold to pay for some groceries when her mother was still alive. The pitcher and basin were the only things missing that Miss Hutchins couldn’t explain.
‘Was the set worth much?’ I asked her.
She shrugged. ‘I really don’t know. Oh, we could ask Verdeen Babcock,’ she said. ‘She’s always coming over to’ – and here the old lady used air quotes – ‘“visit,” when in reality she’s checking out my antiques. She’s got one of the stores on Main Street, and I think she thinks I’m going to leave her everything in my will! Ha!’ she said. ‘I’d rather leave it to Diamond Lovesy!’
‘Verdeen is pretty obvious about what she’s doing?’ I asked with a grin.
‘I’m afraid obvious isn’t the word. Downright rude would be more accurate.’
‘So you think she’d be able to put a price on the pitcher and basin?’ I asked.
‘More than likely,’ Miss Hutchins said, then sighed. ‘I suppose that means I should call her.’
‘That’s totally up to you, ma’am,’ I said.
She smiled and touched my hand. ‘Aren’t you the sweetest thing? I know you can’t wait to find out, but you’re going to let me think this is all my idea, right?’
‘The decision is totally up to you,’ I said, then grinned.
‘Well, I sorta want to find out, too. Maybe I should have her come over some day and give me an estimate on all of it.’ She sighed. ‘I might be underinsured.’
She walked to the phone by the staircase and punched in a number, waited for a moment then said, ‘Verdeen? It’s Carrie Marie. Yes, dear, I’m fine. How are you?’ Then, ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear it. Arthritis can be dreadful, can’t it? Your knees? Oh, that is a shame!’ She listened for a long moment, then said, ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but why I’m calling is to see whether you recall that rose-patterned pitcher and basin set that I had in the front bedroom?’ Then, ‘Uh huh, that’s right. Can you give me an idea how much it was worth? It’s missing and I’m wondering if I should turn it in to the insurance.’ Then, ‘Uh huh … uh huh, well, thank you, dear, and I do hope you get to feeling better.’ Then, ‘Yes … uh huh … OK … well …’ Miss Hutchins looked up at me with desperation in her eyes.
So I called out, ‘Oh, Miss Hutchins! I need help!’
The old lady favored me with a very bright smile. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said into the phone. ‘One of my guests needs me, Verdeen. I’d better get off the phone. Yes … well … goodbye,’ she said and hung up, although I could still hear a voice coming from the other end of the phone.
‘A real talker, huh?’ I said.
She sighed. ‘And a hypochondriac,’ she said. ‘Although these days she may really have some of the problems she’s been complaining about since her twenties.’ She stood up from the seat of the telephone table. ‘Anyway, she knew exactly what item I was talking about – of course. She said anywhere from one hundred to five hundred dollars, depending on the shape it’s in and finding a buyer willing to pay.’
‘Hum,’ I said. ‘Would someone come in just to steal that? I mean, that’s not a lot, not in a house with all these beautiful antiques!’
‘Maybe he was too rushed to take any of the furniture?’ she said.
The grrrrrrrrrr-plop from the night before certainly had nothing to do with the pitcher and wash basin – those could have easily been carried out by hand. But a piece of furniture? A large piece of furniture could certainly have made that sound.
APRIL 1942–JULY 1942
Edgar watched the young woman as she walked out in the water, waist deep. He couldn’t help noticing she was quite a looker – young, maybe a teenager, but still quite a looker. ‘Hey!’ he called out. The girl whirled around and said something in another language. ‘You speak English?’ he asked.
She cocked her head and said, ‘Little bit,’ using her thumb and index finger to indicate just how little.
‘Any Japs around here?’ he asked.
She frowned and cocked her head again. ‘Japs?’ she asked.
‘You know, Jap-an-ese,’ Edgar said in a singsong voice. ‘Like soldiers.’
‘Soldiers all gone,’ she said.
‘No Japs?’ he asked.
She shrugged and repeated, ‘Soldiers all gone.’
Edgar nodded and relaxed a trifle. ‘How come you’re going in the water with your clothes on?’
Again the cocked head and frown. He moved closer and patted the water of the hot spring and then pulled at his own tattered shirt.
She nodded and pantomimed washing herself. Edgar grinned and nodded back. Hell, he thought. ‘This ain’t so bad.’
Then she let off with a stream of what Edgar perceived as gobbledygook, and looked at him inquiringly. He shook his head and shrugged.
The girl took a breath, then said, ‘You want me—’ Then she pantomimed washing again and then pointed at him.
‘You wanna wash me?’ he asked, incredulous.
She nodded and he grinned.
‘No problem!’ he said, and began to strip.
He kept his pants on and waded out to where she was. She took a sliver of homemade soap out of the depths of the garment she was wearing, and began to wet then soap his upper body. Edgar felt that what she was doing was ten times sexier than his time with any of the Chinese or Russian girls in Shanghai, which was the last time he’d been laid. If this was a prelude to the deed, he was gonna be one happy cowboy in a few minutes. And then she stopped and pantomimed that he lower himself in the hot spring to rinse off. She then used the soap on herself. Seeing him still in the water, she pointed toward the bank and said, ‘Sun, dry.’
‘Right,’ he said, slowly walked up to the bank of the hot spring and got out, took a seat on the grassy surround and waited for her to start the next part of her obvious seduction. But instead of that, she climbed up the bank, too, but kept going, with a little backward wave at Edgar. He jumped up. ‘Hey!’ he called out. She turned but didn’t stop walking. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.
She stopped and cocked her head. ‘My name,’ Edgar said, pointing at his chest, ‘is Edgar. Your name is?’ he asked, pointing at her.
She grinned and nodded her head. ‘Lupita,’ she said. ‘Me Lupita, you Ed-gur.’
He grinned back. ‘Right! You Lupita, me Edgar.’
She started once more into the forest and he shouted after her, ‘When can I see you again?’
She shrugged and waved her fingers at him. He didn’t know if that meant she didn’t know when, or if she had no idea what he was saying.
He sat on the bank of the hot spring for a while, thinking about the pretty little Filipino girl he’d just met. Then, as the water of the hot springs settled, he saw his reflection in its smooth, mirror-like surface. Damn, he thought, I wonder why she didn’t run screaming when she saw me. He’d not shaved since the morning his unit had surrendered to the Japanese, and the months he’d been stuck in the forest showed on his face. His beard grew from just under his eyes down to the nape of his neck. His hair was almost as long, his eyes were bloodshot and his clothes were a wreck. What could be seen of his face was blotched from too much sun and possibly the wrong types of food. And he’d lost so much weight he looked like a skeleton.
He got up and found his shirt where he’d dropped it. It was so dirty it could stand on its own, as could his pants had they been dry. He’d removed his boots and his socks before entering the water, and just looking at the socks made him nauseous. They were brown with dirt and grime and dried blood. He sat down on the ground and removed his pants and skivvies. Time to do some laundry, he decided.
EIGHT
Seeing where Harper Benton lived, the girls understood how she could so easily transfer out of Black Cat Ridge High and over to Codderville High: the street they’d turned on to paralleled the Texas Colorado River, which was the boundary line that separated the two school districts. Although this street was on the BCR side of the river, it wouldn’t take too much red tape to move to Codderville High.
There was a small community lining the river, mostly single-wide trailers with a few shacks thrown in. The address for the Bentons showed a double-wide trailer in better condition than the rest, sitting on a lot of at least a couple of acres, with well-tended flower beds just coming into bloom. There was a carport that housed an ancient but well-kept Toyota Celica. The pick-up from the night before was missing.
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