TWO

BACK HOME

There were different reactions to being left home on their own, each according to the particular sister’s views and personality. Alicia, the foster sister and newest member of the family, had been left alone on many occasions in her foster career and barely noticed; Bess was stoic about it. Being left alone meant responsibilities, but she was a responsible person and could totally handle it; but Megan … Megan was delighted, if not downright joyful. She could think of a million things to be done in the two days her parents would be gone that would otherwise never be accomplished. She even played with the thought of losing her virginity, but didn’t have a boy in mind for the honor, so nixed the idea. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t stay out late, find someone to buy them beer, or find an adult station on cable … like, there were so many temptations to choose from!

There aren’t a lot of rules in the Pugh household: don’t hit if you can help it; if you’re male, put the seat down in the bathroom; if you’re female, keep sanitary products out of sight; if it’s on the floor anybody can use it (like a sweater, scarf, pen, whatever); and the newest one (and mandatory to all), knock before entering a room with a closed door. Megan had that one half down. She knocked on her sister Bess’s door that Saturday as she opened it.

Bess had half a second to slam shut her newly acquired yearbook and shove it under her pillow before Megan was upon her.

‘You’re supposed to knock!’ Bess said.

‘I did!’ Megan answered, flopping on Bess’s bed.

‘Before you enter the room, stupid!’

‘Don’t call me stupid!’

‘Then don’t do stupid things!’

‘Whatever. Are you going to the dance?’ Megan asked.

‘What dance?’

Megan sighed. ‘The spring dance. Now who’s stupid?’

‘No,’ Bess said emphatically.

Megan turned from her stomach to her side so she could look her sister in the eye. ‘Why the hell not?’

Bess shrugged. ‘Don’t want to.’

‘Bullshit.’

Bess did not reply. She rolled off the bed and headed out the door of her room.

‘Where are you going?’ Megan demanded.

‘To the kitchen. I’m hungry.’

‘You’re never hungry between meals, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes!’ Megan said, following her sister out the door.

‘Whatever.’

‘You’re up to something!’

Bess sighed long and hard. ‘Get over yourself! You always think something’s up when nothing is! You’re an idiot!’

There was also a rule about name-calling, but it was widely ignored.

‘You’re the idiot!’ Megan shot back as they headed down the stairs.

‘Bite me,’ Bess said.

‘No way. Your skinny ass would taste awful!’

‘God, you are soooooo funny.’

They found their other sister in the large kitchen sitting at the table, eating a slice of cold pizza. ‘Breakfast,’ Alicia said with her mouth full.

‘Any left?’ Megan asked, beating Bess to the refrigerator.

‘Yeah. Couple of pieces. Should we put something out for dinner tonight?’ Alicia asked.

‘Naw. We’ve got plenty of money. Let’s go out!’ Megan said.

Bess snorted. ‘We do not have plenty of money! They’re gone for three days and Mom left us fifty dollars. We spent seventeen on the pizza and breadsticks last night. Going out for the three of us would be at least twenty to twenty-five dollars. And this is the first full day. Which would mean we’d only have like eight to ten dollars left for all day tomorrow!’

‘So we’re going to church with Grandma, right?’ Megan said. ‘She’ll take us out to dinner after church, right? So what’s the prob?’

‘Bess, I have to agree with Megs. And I don’t want to cook, and I certainly don’t want to eat anything Megan cooks—’

‘Hey!’ Megan interjected.

‘Or you for that matter. I’m not in the mood for tofu and kale,’ Alicia said.

‘Second that!’ Megan said.

‘I do not only eat tofu and kale!’ Bess said. ‘There’s a lovely spaghetti squash in the vegetable bin.’

Megan stuck her finger down her throat and Alicia said, ‘Spare me.’

Bess turned on her heels and left the kitchen, heading back upstairs. Once in her room, she threw herself on the bed and pulled her new yearbook out from under the pillow where she’d hidden it. Without much help the book opened to a certain page. On it were pictures of seniors, like herself and her sisters. But the page wasn’t in the ‘P’s’ for Pugh. It was in the ‘H’s’ for Harris. Logan Harris, to be exact. Blond-haired, blue-eyed Logan Harris, with the dimples and the killer smile. He was in her chemistry class this semester and sat next to her. And he smelled soooo good. Bess again read the information under the picture: ‘Most likely to be running his place of employment before graduation.’ And it even listed his place of employment. Bess stashed the yearbook back under her pillow and headed downstairs.

Once in the kitchen, she said, ‘OK, I give up. We can go out to dinner. And I know exactly where.’

‘Where’s that?’ Alicia asked.

‘The Eyes of Texas Steak House,’ Bess said.

Megan almost choked on her cold pizza. ‘Are you serious? What can you eat there, Miss Vegan-two-shoes?’

‘I’m thinking about red meat,’ Bess said, envisioning Logan Harris bringing her a juicy steak on a sizzling platter.

We had an uneventful night. No spirits rattling chains or moaning in the hallways. Basically, no sign of ‘Daddy’ at all. Well, maybe not exactly uneventful. It was our anniversary, after all.

In the morning we headed downstairs, following the smell of coffee. Miss Hutchins was in the dining room, a carafe of coffee in her good hand.

‘Good morning!’ she said cheerfully.

I tried to be as cheerful in returning her greeting, but I really don’t do cheerful – or human – until after at least my first cup of coffee.

‘It’s so nice to have guests again!’ Miss Hutchins chirped. ‘I’d been so happy here with all my guests to talk to!’ The smile disappeared. ‘That is, until Daddy came back, of course.’ Then the smile reappeared. ‘I hope you slept well.’

‘Just fine,’ Willis said, sitting down and reaching for a cup that he stuck out to Miss Hutchins. She filled it. I immediately followed my husband’s lead.

‘There is breakfast on the buffet behind you and I’ll just refill the coffee and be right back!’ she said with a smile, and scurried off.

After several sips of coffee I was human enough to get up and check out the buffet. Looking at the offerings thereon, I had to assume that Miss Hutchins had been up since the crack of dawn preparing it all. Obviously homemade biscuits, sausage gravy, rashers of bacon and links of sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns and what looked like homemade preserves. I’ve been to my share of B&Bs, and the usual second ‘B’ encompassed store-bought doughnuts, a bowl of grocery store cut fruit and weak coffee. I figured, Daddy or no Daddy, this was my kind of place. But in deference to my new body, I only had a little of everything. No, really.

After breakfast Willis and I set out to explore the little town of Peaceful. Main Street was where it was happening, so we headed in that direction. It was a beautiful day for a walk – the sun was out and not yet too hot, and the earlier spring rains had helped to make the entire town look greener. Main Street itself had large planters, one at each intersection (there were three intersections – you do the math), filled with all sorts of colorful flowers. The cisterns were artfully decorated and their small square footage was used to the best advantage possible. Some were filled with crap straight from China, others with local-made crafts, and others with antiques. The bigger antique shops were full of junk, most of which I wanted desperately. I’d given myself a budget for the weekend of two hundred dollars to spend on ‘stuff.’ With the cistern shops and the antique shops, I’d only hit three hundred by the time we stopped for lunch. We found a little bistro and settled in. Inevitably, the conversation turned to Miss Hutchins and her daddy.

‘I think we’ve established that even if there are such things as ghosts, which we both doubt—’ I started.

‘Indubitably,’ Willis said.

I rolled my eyes. ‘Ghosts are not known for wielding weapons such as knives. Therefore, someone other than Miss Hutchins’ father killed her mother.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Who?’ I asked.

Willis shrugged. ‘I have no idea. We don’t know anything about the rest of her family, or other players that might have been around back then.’

‘You think we should ask her?’

It was Willis’s turn for the old eye roll. ‘Here you go again, getting involved,’ he said.

‘What?’ I said. ‘I’m not doing anything!’

‘Yeah, but you’re intrigued. I can see it in your eyes, not to mention you’re actually talking about it.’

‘OK, never mind. You’re right. It’s our anniversary. What do we care if the old lady loses her family home because of someone playing pranks?’

‘We don’t know anyone’s playing pranks!’ Willis said. ‘For all we know, she’s lost customers because it’s a lousy B&B.’

‘When she serves breakfasts like that?’ I asked, wide-eyed. ‘I seriously doubt it!’

‘Maybe she sleepwalks at night and the word got around.’

‘Maybe you’re full of it,’ I suggested.

Willis sighed. ‘OK. Let’s ask her why people stopped coming. What it was “Daddy” did that made people run off.’

Inwardly I grinned; outwardly I just nodded my head sagely. ‘I think we can do that.’ Inwardly I also knew that Willis was beginning to enjoy the chase as much as I did.

When we returned to Bishop’s Inn, Miss Hutchins was busy puttering around the living room, straightening things that already looked straight, fluffing pillows that were already fluffed, etc.

‘May we join you?’ I asked as we entered the room.

‘Oh, my, yes!’ she said, smiling joyfully. ‘Please, sit! Mr Pugh, you take this chair,’ she said, pointing to a very old barrel-shaped easy chair that had obviously been recovered at least once in its history. The latest upholstery was a tapestry of books and reading accoutrement, such as reading glasses, a fireplace and a sleeping dog. It had a matching ottoman. ‘This was Daddy’s chair. I’m not sure if he sits in it when he comes back, but I like to think he’s grateful I kept it for him.’

Willis took the easy chair and I sank down on the camel-backed sofa. ‘Speaking of your father,’ I started, ‘what did he do to drive away your customers?’

‘Oh, this and that,’ Miss Hutchins said, sitting down next to me. ‘He started screaming one night, which ran off two couples who were staying here. They just packed up in the middle of the night and left. Then there was the destruction of those suitcases that time.’

‘Tell me about that,’ I said.

‘Well, I had this lovely older couple staying with me. Gladys and Herman. Such nice people. The second day they were here, in the morning, they woke up to find their suitcases had been slashed with a knife and their belongings scattered all around – even some of Gladys’s unmentionables hanging from the light fixture! Needless to say, they were very upset and I had to supply them with paper bags for their belongings so they could leave immediately.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I didn’t dare ask them to pay for that one night. I mean, that would have just been tacky.’

I nodded my head. Tacky for sure. And a knife again. Were Willis and I wrong about spirits being unable to wield weapons? What did either of us know about ghosts and spirits and other things that go bump in the night? Not a damn thing. But I couldn’t help feeling there was a live human hand at work here.

Before I could ask any more questions, the front door opened with a quick knock and two people stood in the foyer.

‘Oh, goodness!’ Miss Hutchins said, standing up. ‘I wonder who that could be?’ She moved into the foyer, with Willis and me not far behind.

‘Hello!’ Miss Hutchins chirped. ‘May I help you?’

I realized I was staring and quickly looked down at my shoes. I always wondered about people who go out of their way to make themselves look as different as possible then get insulted when other people look too long. The man was short, maybe five foot five at the most. His hair was orange and styled in a faux-hawk, his nose, lip and ears were pierced, and there were tats covering all his exposed flesh. The woman was much taller than him, maybe my height (that’s five feet and all eleven inches) or even taller, and weighed considerably more than was necessary. Her hair was jet black, shaved on one side and hanging long and loose on the other. She wore a shear chiffon dress, floating and billowing about her, over what appeared to be long johns, with a knitted poncho covering the top and more scarves than I’ve ever seen on one person. She had similar tats and piercings.

Ignoring Miss Hutchins’ greeting, the female of the couple said, in a Minnie Mouse-ish voice, ‘I feel it, Humphrey. I can feel it! It’s so strong!’

Humphrey, whom I assumed was the man with her, said, ‘I knew it! This is great!’

‘Excuse me,’ Miss Hutchins said. ‘May I help you?’

‘Miss Hutchins, right?’ Humphrey said, grabbing her hand and shaking it like one would shake a pitcher of martinis. ‘Humphrey Hammerschultz, I made the reservations.’

‘You did?’ Miss Hutchins asked.

‘Last week. Do you have a problem with your memory? A lot of people as old as you do, you know, but it’s not an issue. We made a reservation. This is my partner, Diamond Lovesy.’

‘Reservation?’ Miss Hutchins said, stiffening at the implied insult.

‘Yes,’ Humphrey said, leaning closer to her, speaking loudly and slowly. ‘We made a reservation for two rooms – one for Diamond and one for myself.’

‘We’re not a couple,’ Diamond said, looking at Willis and me and smiling.

I nodded my head, but my husband opted not to acknowledge the new people at all.

‘We’re psychic investigators,’ Humphrey said to Willis and me. ‘Or if you prefer, paranormal detectives!’ He smiled widely. ‘Diamond is a medium.’

Miss Hutchins turned to me. ‘What are they saying?’ she asked, quite anxious.

‘I called last week!’ Humphrey screamed at her. ‘We were told we could come investigate the things that have been happening here!’

Again Miss Hutchins turned to me. ‘Why is he screaming at me?’ she asked in a weak voice.

‘You don’t have to yell,’ I said to Humphrey. ‘She has all her faculties. Are you sure you talked to Miss Hutchins when you called?’

‘No, it was her assistant. Some guy,’ he said.

‘A guy? A man, you mean?’ Miss Hutchins asked. ‘There are no men here.’

‘Could it have been your helper?’ I asked her.

She shook her head. ‘No, she’s a woman. And she doesn’t have a deep voice or anything. Besides,’ Miss Hutchins said, ‘she hasn’t been here in several weeks. She certainly wasn’t here last week.’

‘Well, I don’t know who I talked to,’ Humphrey said, ‘but he took the reservation.’

Miss Hutchins walked to a small counter in the foyer, upon which sat a large, hardbound book. I moved to stand beside her. She flipped it to today’s date. And there, on the right side, was Saturday, with the notation, ‘Humphrey Hammerschultz and Diamond Lovesy, two rooms.’ Across from it, on the left, was Friday, with information on Willis and me. It didn’t take a graphologist to realize that the two entries were written by two different people.

‘How did you know something was going on here at the Bishop’s Inn?’ I asked Humphrey.

That stopped him for a moment. ‘Now that I think about it, the guy I talked to here might have been the same guy who called me.’

‘Someone called you? About what?’ Willis asked. I was glad to see he was joining in.

‘About the shit that’s happening here,’ he said, then, seeing the look on Miss Hutchins’ face: ‘Excuse my French, ma’am.’

She simply nodded.

‘What did he say?’ I asked. ‘This man who called you?’

‘He said there was definitely a spirit at the Bishop’s Inn in Peaceful, Texas, and that we should get here as soon as possible before something bad happens,’ Humphrey said.

Miss Hutchins grabbed my hand. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said.

I patted her hand.

‘And you just decided to come straight here, huh?’

Humphrey puckered up. ‘Of course not! I researched it. There’s all sorts of paranormal activity in the Texas Hill Country,’ he said. ‘So Diamond and I discussed it and I called and made a reservation.’

‘And didn’t notice that you were talking to the same guy,’ Willis said, his voice dubious.

‘It had been a week since the guy called. And I did talk to a few thousand people in the interim!’ Humphrey proclaimed.

‘It was Daddy,’ Miss Hutchins said in a small voice.

‘Your father? He’s here?’ Diamond asked in her Minnie-Mouse voice.

‘In a manner of speaking,’ Miss Hutchins answered.

‘So do we get our rooms or what?’ Humphrey asked, his tone getting slightly belligerent.

‘Of course,’ Miss Hutchins said with a sigh. ‘Just give me a minute to prepare them.’

‘No,’ I said, taking her arm and leading her back into the living room. ‘Just tell us where the sheets and towels are and we’ll all pitch in and do it.’

‘And we’re paying for this?’ Humphrey said, indignant.

‘Oh, Humphrey,’ Diamond said. ‘Be a sport! It’ll be fun. Besides, I feel the spirits all around us and I know they want us to help this poor, beleaguered lady!’ She smiled at us, one and all.

It wasn’t the fun-fest the medium had proclaimed it would be. Basically it was as tedious as one would expect. The men wandered around acting as if they had no clue where one might keep linens and things (at least I know my husband was acting – there was a good possibility Humphrey Hammerschultz was really that stupid), while Diamond Lovesy and I did all the work. She kept saying, ‘Isn’t this fun?’ By the fourth declaration I just glared at her. That was the last time she said it.

After we’d made the beds and put out the towels, the four of us headed downstairs. Miss Hutchins was setting refreshments on the coffee table in the living room. ‘Oh, there you are! I was wondering what took you so long,’ she said.

‘Having men help us,’ I said, mostly under my breath. Willis nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. It hurt. ‘You didn’t have to do all this,’ I said, looking at the spread she’d put out. A pitcher of iced tea and five glasses, a plate of scones and a plate of finger sandwiches – pimiento cheese and what looked like liverwurst.

We all sat down, Willis nudging Humphrey away from ‘his’ easy chair, Miss Hutchins and me on the camel-backed sofa and the newcomers in armless stuffed chairs.

‘So, Miss Hutchins,’ Humphrey said, stuffing his face with scones and talking around the mess in his mouth (utterly disgusting – I was able to break my children of such antics at a fairly early age. My first inkling of the fact that this guy was raised by wolves). ‘Tell us about these sightings of your father.’

‘Oh, I’m the only one who’s seen him,’ she said. ‘The first time – after his death, of course – was when I was ten and he killed my mother. Then nothing until about a year ago in the back garden late at night. And again three weeks ago, when I was walking dear Gladys and Herman out to their car, I saw him in the window of the room they had just occupied and he was smiling down at me. It wasn’t exactly a friendly smile. More teasing, I guess you’d say.’

Humphrey turned to Diamond. ‘Are you getting anything?’ he asked her.

She closed her eyes and said, ‘Ummmm.’ Then, ‘There is a presence here,’ she said. ‘A dark presence.’ Then she started breathing hard and hugged herself. ‘An evil, cold presence!’

‘Oh, my goodness,’ Miss Hutchins said.

I was beginning to feel chilly, but then again I’m easily susceptible.

Diamond, still with closed eyes, began to regulate her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth, slowing it down. Then she put her hands out, palms up, and said, ‘Why are you here? Speak to me! I feel you, spirit! I know you’re here. Why? Why are you doing these things to your wonderful daughter?’

There was a quick intake of breath and then, in a voice a million miles from the Minnie-Mouse voice of old, Diamond, or someone – possibly male – spoke. ‘She’s defiling my home! Letting strangers in! She has no right! She must be stopped!’

Miss Hutchins’ shoulders squared and she stood up. ‘This isn’t your house, Daddy! You know that!’ she said. ‘This is my house! Left to me by Mama, and left to her by her mama, and back many generations! You have no right to this house! So you just get along now!’

Diamond Lovesy shuddered once and fell back in her chair. Humphrey ran to her. Looking at me, he said, ‘Iced tea, STAT.’ He really, really said that.

I looked at Willis and we both rolled our eyes. Diamond might have been a little more believable if she’d had any of her facts straight. Miss Hutchins had put that right, though. I poured some iced tea in a glass and handed it to Humphrey, who held it to Diamond’s lips. She sipped tentatively.

Miss Hutchins sank back down next to me. ‘If you people are really psychic detectives, I want to hire you to get rid of my daddy!’ Then she sat up and said, ‘I don’t mean kill him or anything. I just mean it’s way past time he should be at rest.’ Turning to me, she said, ‘Don’t you think so?’

BACK HOME

The girls got ready to go to dinner at the Eyes of Texas Steakhouse on the Black Cat Ridge side of the Texas Colorado River. It had a large patio hanging over the river, but as it was cold and damp outside, the girls thought they might eat indoors, which was just what Bess wanted to do. Megan and Alicia donned blue jeans and T-shirts, while Bess, although staying with blue jeans, opted for a gauzy top that floated around her upper body but had a deep enough V to show the little bit of cleavage she could pull up with the push-up bra she hardly ever wore. She spent way too long on her hair and make-up – long enough for Megan to notice.

‘What’s with you?’ she asked. ‘You look like you’re going to a party, for crying out loud!’

‘I think it’s good to look your best wherever you go,’ Bess shot back. ‘A T-shirt with “I’m with stupid” on it is not your best look.’

‘Maybe not, but it’s funny when I stand to your right and the arrow points at you.’

‘Hilarious,’ Bess said.

‘Hum,’ Alicia joined in. ‘Are we trying to impress someone?’

‘Are we going to eat or just stand here and grill me for a couple of hours?’ Bess asked, then stridently walked out the back door to the waiting minivan that was now their mode of transportation.

The other two laughed at her expense and headed for the van. ‘My turn!’ Megan shouted.

‘No, it’s not!’ Alicia shouted back, running to the driver’s door. ‘I’m on the schedule!’

‘Shotgun!’ Megan shouted instead, but was less than pleased to see that Bess was already occupying that location. Griping under her breath, she crawled into the back seat. Leaning forward between the two front seats, she said, ‘Y’all are both bitches, you know that?’

Alicia smiled and Bess laughed. ‘And proud of it!’ Bess said.

1934–1935

Edgar Hutchins hitchhiked three days after Christmas to San Antonio, where he found a Marine recruiter that was more than happy to sign him up. He brought with him the small amount of money he’d saved up since Helen had gone off to college. It had been his hope to spend it on a ring; instead, he used part of it for a good meal in a restaurant and a room for the night in a seedy hotel in a mostly Mexican part of town. The following day he began his journey to Parris Island, South Carolina.

After World War One, when the boot camp had seen more than thirteen thousand troops training there, the funding for Parris Island had all but dried up due to the severe decrease in the hectic demands of the war. By 1934 when Edgar arrived, there were fewer than three hundred men being trained. But these years before the onset of World War Two saw innovations in training. The new recruits learned how to fire automatic weapons and were among the first military personnel to see a demonstration of a trench mortar out of a combat situation. This should have excited Edgar, like it did most of the recruits then at Parris Island, but it didn’t. He hated the food, hated the uncomfortable cots, hated most of the guys in his barracks, and, most of all, he hated his D.I.

Gunny Sargent Monroe Lincoln was a career Marine who had served with honors during World War One, and was determined to make sure these peace-time leathernecks were up for anything that would be coming their way. He was fair but hard. Edgar didn’t see the fair, only the hard. He managed to spend the night in the brig twice for infractions and barely made it out of boot camp. But when he did, he was actually pleased to find out that he was being shipped to Shanghai, China.