ELEVEN

BACK HOME

‘I guess we need to go to the store,’ Alicia said.

‘Why?’ asked Megan, who was lounging on the sofa, one long bare leg stretched out, the other knee-bent as she inspected her calf. ‘God, I need to shave!’

‘Well, don’t use my razor! You always ruin it!’ Alicia said.

‘I can’t help it if your peach fuzz is no match for my womanly growth!’

‘Womanly, my ass!’ Alicia said. ‘Let’s just say manly and get it over with!’

Megan sat up and stared at her foster sister. ‘Are you calling me manly?’ she said, her voice menacing.

‘No! I’m calling that thatch of steel wool on your legs manly.’

‘Humph. Well, at least I can grow hair!’ Megan shot back as she sank down on the sofa and continued her perusal of her body hair.

Alicia just shook her head. ‘If we’re going to go to the store for groceries, we better get it done or we won’t have dinner tonight!’

‘I thought there was food in the refrigerator,’ Megan said.

‘Yes, there is, and it’s all frozen. So we either go to the store or have popcorn for dinner.’

‘We could order a pizza. We still have money left—’

Bess walked into the room and caught the last part of her sisters’ conversation. ‘No pizza. Logan’s coming over and he’s bringing dinner.’

Megan tossed her legs on the floor and sat up. ‘He remembers I like the porterhouse, right?’

Bess glared at her. ‘You’ll eat what he brings and you’ll be happy to get it! Also, we’re going to reimburse him for whatever he spends.’

‘I’m sure he gets a nice discount,’ Megan said. ‘But he better bring something good because I’m not paying for something I don’t like!’

‘Even though you’ll eat it?’ Alicia said.

‘Duh! How will I know I don’t like it if I don’t eat it?’

‘Do you think we can straighten up in here?’ Bess asked, surveying the great room. There was a size 36C bra hanging off the back of one of the bar stools, shoes dotting the floor at random, and the Sunday paper was scattered from the breakfast table to the coffee table with the funnies adorning the bar. There were also dishes in the sink and on the counter, and the dishwasher, which was only partially filled, was standing open, as were the doors of two kitchen cupboards. Someone had brought dirt in on their shoes and left scatterings from the back door into the kitchen.

Without looking, Megan said, ‘Looks fine to me.’

Alicia looked around and had the decency to blush. ‘Pretty much a mess, huh?’ she said to Bess.

‘Pretty much.’ Bess turned to Megan, who appeared to be attempting to pull out one of her leg hairs with her thumb and index finger. ‘How much of this mess is yours, Megan?’

Not being able to get a handle on the pesky hair, Megan finally looked up. ‘What mess?’

Bess just waved her arm, indicating the room in general. Megan looked at a pair of white running shoes with rainbow-colored laces. Pointing at them, she said, ‘Those aren’t mine.’ And she traded legs to continue her inspection.

‘Wow. That’s great! One pair of shoes in the maelstrom of madness isn’t yours!’ Bess said with some scorn. ‘So pick up the rest of the crap and put the dishes in the dishwasher! I already put mine in at breakfast! Like any normal person would!’

‘Are you saying I’m not normal?’ Megan asked, still staring at her other leg.

‘You bypassed normal as you came out of the birth canal!’ Bess said. ‘Get up!’

Megan put her leg down but didn’t rise. Instead she just looked at her sister with narrowed eyes. ‘I believe in efficiency. Why put dishes in the dishwasher three times a day when you can just wait until bedtime and put them all in then? That’s efficient! And besides, why should I have to clean up for your boyfriend?’

‘What do you think Mom would say if she knew we were entertaining company in a filthy house, and that it’s all your fault?’

‘I think she’d say, “Who gave you permission to entertain guys in the house when we’re away?”’ She grinned at Bess. ‘Wanna call her and see what she would consider the bigger problem?’

‘I hate you,’ Bess said with gritted teeth.

‘No, you don’t,’ Megan said, going back to her inspection of things hairy, ‘you love me. You’re pissed, but you love me!’

Alicia stood up and went to Bess, who seemed to have tightened every muscle in her body. ‘Come on, I’ll help you clean up. And Megan’s right about one thing: those aren’t her shoes,’ she said, pointing at the white sneakers. ‘They’re yours.’

‘Bite me!’ Bess said, picked up the shoes and took them upstairs.

She sat on her bed in her room for a few minutes, trying to calm down. Megan was the one person in the world who could really, really get to her. When she complained to Mom about it, she just said, ‘I had three sisters. They certainly can be maddening. But you love them just the same.’

Bess wasn’t all that sure about that. Sometimes she felt she could rip Megan’s throat out and dance around with it on the end of a fork but, she reminded herself, if anybody else messed with her sister, there would be hell to pay. So did that mean something? Something more than the fact that Bess would prefer being the one to destroy her sister? Maybe … maybe not.

She sighed and laid back, her head on her pillow. She wanted things to be perfect when Logan got here. She wanted him to believe that she and her sisters were good people, that they lived in a beautiful home and had caring, doting parents. Most of which was true, except for Megan being a good person. Megan was a self-centered bitch! Bess thought. But she was funny, that she had to concede. And she had other good points, although Bess wasn’t sure she could enumerate them at the moment. OK, she could be generous. She was protective of Bess – whether Bess wanted her to be or not. And she was getting that way about Alicia, too. And Alicia needed it. And she liked to read, which Bess considered a trait closer to God than cleanliness. But don’t get her started on Megan and cleanliness. Hell, she thought, you could barely put the two things in the same sentence without someone gagging!

OK, she told herself, sitting up and putting her feet on the floor. There was no way Megan was going to clean her own mess. She grinned. But two could play at this game, Bess thought, and headed downstairs to get that size 36C bra and stash it in the oven.

We were just sitting down to an awesome Sunday dinner when the doorbell rang. It was just Willis, Miss Hutchins and me as Diamond Lovesy hadn’t seen fit to stick her head out her door since breakfast, a meal she’d just picked at. I worried how she would be able to keep her abundant figure this way. Certainly it required at least a couple of thousand calories per meal. Or am I being catty? Having lost thirty-five pounds – and kept it off for almost a year! – I do tend to be a bit bitchy about people who haven’t been as fortunate. I mean, come on! If I can do it, anybody can! Which is a statement I’ve always abhorred when anyone else used it. My argument has always been that we have no idea what someone else’s struggle is all about, or how much help the person who made the statement had to get where they are. But then, of course, I lost thirty-five pounds and became the queen of the universe.

Willis excused himself and went to the door. I leaned back in my chair to peer down the hall to the front door, and almost lost my balance when I heard Chief Cotton’s voice. I straightened the chair and looked wide-eyed at Miss Hutchins. ‘It’s the chief!’ I stage-whispered.

‘Don’t worry, dear,’ she said. ‘I’m sure he’s not here to arrest you.’

Wide-eyed turned to bug-eyed. ‘What? Of course not!’ I said.

She patted my hand. ‘You just seemed so worried,’ she said.

And I was. Not about a possible imminent arrest, but the fact that he might send us packing, and me with an unsolved murder to deal with!

Willis and the chief walked into the dining room. ‘So sorry to disturb y’all at suppertime,’ he said.

Miss Hutchins stood up. ‘It’s quite all right, Rigsby. I made a lovely pork roast with sauerkraut and boiled potatoes with butter. I’ll get you a plate.’

‘Oh, no, ma’am, you don’t have to do that!’ he protested, but I couldn’t help but notice he was sniffing my plate.

‘Miss Lovesy hasn’t joined us, so there’s more than enough to go around,’ Miss Hutchins said.

‘Well, ma’am, I sure do appreciate that. The wife’s visiting her mother in Lubbock and I ain’t had a decent meal for a week!’

Miss Hutchins laughed. ‘I’ve had your wife’s cooking, Rigsby, and I’d say you haven’t had a decent meal in thirty years!’

The chief sat down across from me where a place had been set for Diamond Lovesy. ‘I’d agree with you but I’m afraid you’d tell my wife!’

‘Never!’ she said, putting her index finger to her lips. ‘It’s our secret.’

As she left the room, the chief sighed. ‘Well, if it was just that one secret, it might be OK, but I hate to say Miz Hutchins knows where all my bodies are buried.’

‘Figuratively speaking?’ I said.

He grinned. ‘Oh, yes, ma’am.’

Willis sat down beside me and squeezed my hand under the table. I think he might have noted, as I had, that the chief was being much more amiable that he’d been at the station. If I were the type of person to get scared – which I’m not – I would have been a little frightened by said amiability.

Miss Hutchins brought out a plate laden with pork roast, sauerkraut, boiled potatoes and butter, with a little bowl of brown mustard. ‘If I remember right, you like a little dark mustard with your pork roast?’ she said to him.

‘Miz Hutchins, you are a marvel,’ he said and dug in. He didn’t look up again until he’d demolished half his plate. How someone as scrawny as the chief could put away that much food that fast was beyond me.

Finally, halfway through his plate – while even Willis had only consumed no more than a fourth of his, and I was still salting mine – he looked up at me and said, ‘Got a call a little while ago. Wanna guess who?’

I dug my fingernails in Willis’s thigh. He flinched but luckily didn’t cry out. ‘I have no idea,’ I lied.

‘That lady you mentioned. Elena Luna, that lieutenant from the Codderville PD? She called me up. Told me all about you. We had us a few laughs.’

I may have broken skin on my husband’s thigh by this time. ‘I’m sure you did,’ I said while gritting my teeth.

‘She says you’re a real nuisance,’ he said.

‘Oh, she did, did she?’ I was never speaking to my former friend again. Ever.

‘Yeah, that’s what she said. But she also said you’d helped on occasion. OK, more like you’ve helped her on a lot of occasions.’ He frowned at me. ‘Why do you do that?’

‘Do what?’ I asked in all innocence.

‘Mess around in murders? You think you’re Miz Marple or somebody? She was in them Agatha Christie books,’ he added.

‘Yes, I’ve heard of her,’ I said. ‘I just like to help when I can,’ I added, and heard my husband cough rather loudly and infinitely longer than necessary. I rested my foot a little less than gently on his and pressed.

‘Well, Elena says I should feel OK about keeping you in the loop, that you got what she calls “good instincts.”’

I tried not to preen. It was hard, but I managed. ‘I’d be happy to help you in any way I can,’ I said.

‘You can’t be serious!’ came from behind us and we all looked up to see Diamond Lovesy standing there, hands on ample hips, a frown so deep on her face that the space between her eyes had all but disappeared.

Willis and the chief both stood up. Funny, Willis never stands up for me.

‘Miz Lovesy,’ the chief said. ‘How you doing?’

‘Well, I came down to eat, but hearing that bullshit, I think I’ve lost my appetite!’ she said.

‘And what bullshit would that be, ma’am?’ the chief asked.

Pointing at me but looking squarely at the chief, she said, ‘Letting this … this … woman get involved with the investigation! She and her so-called husband supposedly found poor Humphrey’s body! Is it such a stretch to think they’re the ones who killed him?’

‘Now, ma’am, why would they? You know if they got a motive?’ he asked. Then pointing at a vacant chair next to him, said, ‘Please come sit down.’ Turning to Miss Hutchins, he said, ‘Ma’am, is there enough food left for another plate?’

‘Oh! Forgive me! Of course!’ She jumped up and gave Diamond her one-hundred-watt smile. ‘I do so hope you enjoy a good pork roast!’ she said, and headed into the kitchen.

‘Please sit!’ the chief said again.

Diamond reluctantly came around the table and sat next to the chief. I got up – rather than sit there and have her continue to stare daggers at me – and sorted out her place setting. ‘Miss Hutchins makes her own sauerkraut,’ I said. ‘And it’s wonderful. And the bread is homemade, too.’

‘Are you trying to bribe me with sauerkraut and bread?’ Diamond said, still with that deep frown on her face.

I sighed. ‘Diamond, you need to let up or you’re going to get early wrinkles!’ I said.

She continued to frown until Miss Hutchins came in with her plate. The smells seemed to do more to dissipate the frown than any words from me.

The chief had resumed eating the minute Diamond took her seat and was through before Diamond had cut her first bite of pork roast. ‘Now, Miz Lovsey, I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I wouldn’t mind getting Miz Pugh’s input on some of this. Turns out she’s actually been involved in a lot more homicides than me.’

Diamond looked up at me. ‘Are you a serial killer, E.J.?’ she asked.

‘No more than you’re a psychic,’ I said with a tight smile.

‘Bitch,’ she said under her breath as she leaned down to shovel food into her pie-hole. OK, I’m being catty again – but she did lean down to eat. I swear.

‘Now, ladies, behave,’ the chief said with a wide grin. ‘Miz Pugh, what are you thinking about this here? Got any ideas? Find any clues?’

I was beginning to get a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to take my expertise – such as it was – very seriously. ‘I have theories, Chief, as I’m sure you do. Are you aware of the strange occurrences that have been going on here at the Bishop’s Inn?’

‘You mean the ghosts and goblins?’ He laughed out loud. ‘I heard tell.’ He looked at Miss Hutchins and said, ‘Ma’am, I mean no aspersions to you or yours, but I’m not a big believer in spirits and haunts.’

‘That’s because you’ve never seen my daddy walking these halls and messing with things,’ Miss Hutchins said.

‘You’re right, ma’am, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting your daddy either alive or dead. And I hope to hell I don’t.’ He turned to look at Diamond. ‘You seen her daddy?’ he asked.

‘I’ve not seen him,’ Diamond said haughtily, ‘but I’ve felt his presence and even channeled him once, or was it twice?’ she asked, looking at Miss Hutchins.

‘I think only once, dear,’ Miss Hutchins answered.

‘What’s that mean?’ the chief asked. ‘You “channeled” him?’

‘It means his spirit entered my body and spoke through me.’

The chief hooted with laughter, but caught himself before it got out of hand. ‘I’m sorry, Miz Lovesy, but that sounds like a whole bunch of hokem, if you don’t mind me saying so.’

‘Actually, Chief, I do mind!’ Diamond said. ‘If you know nothing about a subject, I would think it would behoove you to keep any opinions to yourself.’

‘Well, now, you might have a point, ma’am,’ the chief replied, ‘except we got us this murder here, and these so-called sightings of a dead man, and I can’t see how the two are connected. One is reality and the other is balderdash. And as I don’t believe in the existence of haunts, I gotta think there are live human beings involved here, and that you, ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying so, are as full of shit as a Christmas turkey.’

‘I do mind you saying so!’ Diamond said, jumping to her feet. I noted she’d already cleaned her plate and doubt she had any intention of staying downstairs with us no matter what the chief said. She flung herself up the stairs, her back rigid, without another word. Not even to thank Miss Hutchins for a wonderful meal.

‘You think it was something I said?’ the chief asked those of us still assembled. He was grinning ear to ear, and I couldn’t help thinking the man was having a great time.

BACK HOME

Logan showed up a little after eight that evening to find a clean house and two seemingly well-behaved girls and one anxious one. He was carrying two bags full of food, and the smell was duly noted by Megan. ‘Do I smell a porterhouse?’ she asked.

Logan grinned from ear to ear. ‘You sure do!’ he said.

Megan grabbed the bags and said, ‘Man, I could kiss you!’ Then, sensing her sister’s penetrating gaze of pure hatred, said, ‘But I won’t.’ She went to the kitchen bar and began setting out the food.

‘How much do we owe you?’ Bess asked him.

He shook his head. ‘Nada,’ he said.

‘Oh, no, we really need to pay you our share!’ Bess said. ‘It’s not fair—’

‘Cam said it’s on the house. And anytime you wanna come eat at the restaurant, he said that would be on the house, too. Including your parents.’

‘He can’t do that!’ Bess said. ‘He’ll go broke!’

Logan shrugged. ‘He’s closing the place in a couple of months, so it doesn’t really matter.’

‘No!’ Megan cried, already digging into her porterhouse. ‘That can’t be!’

‘Yeah,’ Alicia said. ‘Where in the world will you get your free porterhouse fix?’

‘Bite me,’ Megan said. ‘I’m just sad for Logan and the rest of the staff.’

‘B.S.,’ Alicia said under her breath.

‘Don’t worry about us. Cam’s more than fair and we’ll get good severance packages, even if it’s all in red meat.’

‘If you get any of these,’ Megan said, holding up her fork, ‘you know where you can bring them.’

‘Come on, y’all, let’s eat before Megan takes it all,’ Alicia said, grabbing plates for the three of them.

Bess set out the rest of the food, which was an exact duplicate of their first meal at the Eyes of Texas Steakhouse, right down to the burger for Logan. They didn’t talk about Harper Benton or her brother, Tucker, or anything that might ruin an appetite. It wasn’t until Bess and Logan were seated in the family room, while Megan and Alicia cleaned up, that the subject was broached.

‘So are you still not going to tell your folks?’ Bess asked.

Logan shrugged. ‘No. I mean, my dad’s an attorney, and he’ll want to sue somebody, I’m sure. He gets like that. And that would just make matters worse. I mean, everybody would know what she’s saying, right?’

‘Yeah, I guess,’ Bess said.

‘So what’s our next move?’ he asked.

Bess liked that – the ‘our’ part. She wasn’t sure what any move might consist of, but she was glad he wanted her to be part of it. ‘I think maybe we need to talk to Harper’s mom again.’

‘She’ll be at work tomorrow,’ Logan said. ‘But I know where she works.’

Bess lifted an eyebrow. ‘You do?’

Logan grinned. ‘Yeah. She’s a waitress at that Denny’s on the highway.’

Bess grinned back. ‘So what are you doing for lunch tomorrow?’ she asked.

DECEMBER, 1947

He hitched part of the way, took a bus with some of the money and made it to Peaceful, Texas in about two weeks. He disguised himself with facial hair, sunglasses and a fedora, and no one seemed to notice him, one way or another. Used to be, before the war, a strange man in town was an event – one to be looked on with favor or fear, depending on your outlook – but now the place was crowded and he saw a new mill on the outskirts that may have been the cause of that. And there were new houses, too. Little bungalows that all looked alike and practically sat on top of each other. This is what we fought a war for? Edgar asked himself. Well, not him! No sad little house with a wife and kids. And then he had to laugh thinking of Lupita and his two half-breed girls living side by side with the new residents of Peaceful. Wouldn’t be ‘peaceful’ for long! he thought. He wasted no time heading to the house on Post Oak Street. It looked the same, if maybe a little rundown. He wondered if that had been due to the war years, and maybe the death of his brother. He felt no pangs of regret for Norris’s death. In fact, he felt nothing at all. He half wondered about his dad and Herbert, but not enough to do anything about it. He had one goal in coming to Peaceful, and that was to confront Helen and find his pot of gold. He wasn’t sure which he wanted most, and then realized that, yeah, it was that pot of gold. Bitching out Helen was just gravy.

The front door of the Bishop’s house was unlocked so he walked right in. He heard a voice calling from upstairs, ‘Carrie Marie? Is that you? You’re home early!’

Carrie Marie, Edgar thought. Who was that? Maybe Norris had a kid and, just like Edgar himself, had given his daughter the middle name of their mother. ‘Nope,’ he said out loud. ‘Not Carrie Marie.’ He went up the stairs and into the bedroom he knew had been her parents’, and saw her lying on the bed, her back pressed up against a stack of pillows, clad in a housecoat and slippers.

‘Who are you?’ Helen asked, pressing her hands against the bed as if ready for flight.

‘You don’t know me, you cheating whore?’ Edgar asked. ‘Tell you what, did ol’ Norris leave any of his stuff behind in the bathroom. Like a razor?’

He went into the bathroom that was connected to her parents’ large bedroom. ‘Like this bathroom,’ he called from the open door. ‘Real convenient having one right in your room, and all.’ He found a straight-razor, obviously not his brother’s favorite because it hadn’t gone to war with him. But even as a back-up it was a lot better than the one he’d been using for the past few years. It was in a red velvet sheath with Norris’s initials on it. Whatever, he thought. He lathered his face and glanced in the mirror at Helen, who appeared to be getting up off the bed.

‘Whoa, now,’ he said, brandishing the razor, ‘stay where you are, little lady. Not gonna have you gallivanting around. Figured out yet who I am?’

He began to scrape away the beard, alternating between watching himself shave and looking at his ex-sweetheart. He smiled when he saw recognition dawn.

‘But I thought you were dead!’ she said.

‘Not so I’ve noticed,’ he replied, cleaned the soap off his face and came back into the room. ‘Thought I’d come home and pay my respects to the widow. Now, see, if you’d married me like you were supposed to, you wouldn’t be sitting up here in your room at three o’clock in the afternoon pining away for a dead husband.’ He made a ‘tsk-tsk’ sound with his tongue. ‘And still in your night clothes! You oughta be ashamed of yourself!’

‘Get out,’ Helen said, her voice unsteady.

‘No, now, why would I want to do that? I’ve come to claim what’s rightfully mine. Like you and this house. And whatever might be hidden in it,’ he said.

‘I didn’t love you back then and I won’t have you now!’ she said, a little more heat in her voice. ‘You’re not worthy of the same last name as Norris! Your father was right about you – you’re a wasteful piece of trash!’

Edgar didn’t realize the straight-razor was still in his hand when he struck out at Helen. Not until she screamed and he saw the blood oozing out of the cut in her face. Somehow he couldn’t stop. Even after she stopped screaming, and then stopped moving at all. Not until he heard a voice coming up the stairs.

‘Mama! Mama? I’m home!’

Then a girl came in, maybe ten or eleven, a pretty little thing with a withered arm. She looked around at all the blood and then at Edgar. ‘Daddy?’ she said in a small voice.

‘That’s right,’ Edgar said. ‘I’m your daddy. Back from the dead. So you’d better be a good little girl.’

And then he left, without a backwards glance.