THIRTEEN

BACK HOME

Bess woke up Monday morning feeling depressed. She wasn’t sure why at first, then the whole thing with Logan came rushing back, along with the things Alicia had said. She had to admit she had felt guilty. But did she believe that was Logan’s intent? And look at Alicia and Graham – they’d thought they were in love, and still Graham had tried to make her feel guilty for not having sex with him. Bess sat up, her feet on the floor, her head in her hands. Maybe Alicia was right – maybe all guys were like that! Maybe she should become a nun. There was a problem with that, though – Methodists didn’t have nuns. Maybe a lesbian? Bess thought. But how different would that be? Probably not that much.

She pushed herself up off the bed and headed to the hall bathroom. She always awoke ten to fifteen minutes before her sisters so she wouldn’t be disturbed in there. She went in, took a quick shower, got out and contemplated blow-drying her hair and/or putting on make-up. Why bother? she thought. She’d go to the Denny’s for lunch with Logan, see what Mrs Benton had to say, then that was it. She’d wash her hands of the whole thing. And never see Logan again.

She sighed and left the bathroom, noticing neither of her sisters was even up yet. She didn’t much care about that either.

‘I understand they were both from Houston,’ I said to the chief. ‘Have you checked out their addresses or anything?’

‘I checked with Miz Hutchins and they didn’t put down their addresses in the registration book like they were supposed to.’

‘Surely they had identification on them when the bodies were found?’ I asked.

‘Well, yeah, Humphrey did, and we checked out the address on his driver’s license, but it was two years out of date. And the woman, that Diamond person, she didn’t have any ID on her,’ the chief said.

‘I checked her room after Miss Hutchins told us Diamond was missing,’ Willis said, ‘and I noted that all her crap was there. She may have left without her purse and we can find ID in her room.’

I stood up. ‘Willis and I will go back to the Bishop’s Inn and find out,’ I said.

The chief laughed. ‘Well, now, ma’am, y’all can sure go back to the inn, but I’ll be right behind you and I’ll be doing any checkin’ myself.’

‘I thought you were going to allow me to help you, Chief,’ I said, putting a little pout into my words.

‘That’s right, little lady, I did say that, didn’t I?’ He stood up and came around the desk to pat me condescendingly on the shoulder. ‘So’s how ’bout you stand out in the hall while I search?’ he asked. ‘You can watch!’

He grinned like the Cheshire cat and headed for the door to his office. Willis and I followed him out the back door to the parking lot. He looked at my little beauty parked next to his giant squad car.

‘Now what’s this little ol’ thing called?’ he asked.

‘It’s an Audi TT Roadster,’ I said proudly.

‘You get it as a Cracker Jack’s price?’ he asked. I stiffened while my husband guffawed. Then he and the chief bumped fists – I was amazed that the chief knew anything about that. Watched too much TV, I suspected.

I suggested Willis ride with the chief and I got into my beautiful car and broke a couple of speed limits getting back to the inn. The chief, thankfully, did not pull me over. I think he thought he might live longer if he didn’t. He was right.

I was halfway up the stairs when Willis and Chief Cotton came in the front door.

‘Now hold on, little lady!’ the chief yelled from the entry hall.

I whirled around. ‘Call me “little lady” one more time, and you’ll realize just how little I’m not!’ I said, gritting my teeth.

The chief turned to Willis. ‘Feisty, ain’t she?’ he said.

Willis grinned. ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ he said.

Locking eyes with my husband, I asked, ‘Which dead person’s room would you prefer to sleep in tonight?’

With that I headed back up the stairs, both men hot on my heels.

BACK HOME

‘Jeez, what’s with you?’ Megan asked Bess when she came downstairs twenty minutes later.

Bess was at the bar, a cup of coffee in her hands, staring into space. ‘What?’ she said, not looking at her sister.

‘You look like death warmed over!’ Megan said, heading for the coffee pot. ‘Did you make enough for me?’

‘Of course I did. I made enough for you and Alicia and a third cup for myself.’

‘That’s your second cup of coffee?’ Megan asked, pouring her own cup. ‘Didn’t Mom tell you this stuff will stunt your growth? And you don’t need that!’ And with that she let out a bark of laughter. ‘Because you’re so short, get it?’

Bess ignored her and continued staring into space.

‘Seriously, what is your problem this morning?’ Megan insisted.

‘Nothing,’ Bess finally said.

‘Bullshit!’ Megan said.

Bess finally looked at her sister. ‘Since when do you care? And since when do you even notice if I’m in a bad mood?’

Megan put her cup down on the bar and climbed onto the stool next to Bess. ‘Since I heard what Alicia said last night. And I figure you’re thinking Logan’s just another asshole trying to get in your pants, right?’

Bess looked away and stared into space – again. ‘Leave it alone,’ she said.

‘Ain’t gonna happen,’ Megan said, then took a healthy sip of coffee. ‘See, the thing is she’s partly right. Teenage boys think about sex like every minute of every day. Even when they sleep! You’ve heard about wet dreams?’

‘Gross. Just stop.’

‘It’s true. But that doesn’t mean they don’t genuinely care for a girl. Sure there are guys who’ll pretend to like a girl just to jump her bones, but that’s not Logan,’ Megan said.

Bess laughed without humor. ‘And what makes you think that? Because he’s such a stand-up guy? Hell, for all we know he is the father of Harper’s baby!’

Megan shook her head. ‘No. I can read people. I’ve always been good at that. He didn’t do the nasty with Harper, I’m one hundred percent certain of that. And I’m also one hundred percent certain that he really, really likes you. And as far as Alicia and Graham go—’

‘What about Alicia and Graham?’ came a voice from the stairs. The two girls turned to see their foster sister standing there.

‘Nothing,’ Megan said, and got up from the stool.

Alicia came down the stairs and into the great room. ‘No, really, Megan. What about Alicia and Graham?’

‘I said nothing!’ Megan said, going into the kitchen and dumping the dregs of her coffee in the sink. ‘Anybody want breakfast before we head out?’

‘Just say what you have to say!’ Alicia shouted.

Megan whirled around. ‘You’re not gonna like it!’

‘Like that should make a difference to you?’

‘Yeah, well it does!’ Megan shouted back. ‘I know y’all both think I’m this uncaring person, but truth be known I love you both, and I love my brother! And I don’t want to cause you any more pain than he already has!’ Tears were trailing down Megan’s cheeks and Bess and Alicia looked at each in pure befuddlement.

Bess got up from her stool and went to her sister. ‘It’s OK, Megs. Come on, let’s sit on the sofa. All three of us. We’ll get this straightened out.’

She led Megan to the couch, sitting her in the middle between herself and Alicia. ‘Now, what’s this all about?’ Bess asked.

Megan shook her head.

Alicia touched her arm. ‘You have to tell me now, Megs. If you don’t, my mind will just make up something ten times worse than reality.’

Again Megan shook her head. ‘Nothing can be worse than this.’

Alicia sighed. ‘Maybe I don’t want to know,’ she said softly.

‘But maybe you should know,’ Bess said. ‘Megan, just tell it. It’s best not to keep secrets. They just cause all sorts of problems.’

Megan sighed. ‘Last week – when I went to the movies with the twins?’ Both of her sisters nodded their heads. ‘I saw Graham there. And he wasn’t alone.’

‘Who was he with?’ Bess asked.

‘Lotta,’ Megan said, lowering her head.

‘Lotta Esparza?’ Alicia half-whispered. ‘His old girlfriend?’

The other girls didn’t answer. They felt no reply was needed. There was only one Lotta Esparza in their world, and it was definitely Graham’s ex-girlfriend.

‘What were they doing?’ Alicia said, her voice getting strident.

Megan didn’t look up, nor did she answer.

‘Megan!’ Alicia said. ‘What were they doing?’

Finally Megan looked up, but not at Alicia – she looked at Bess instead. ‘Making out,’ she told her sister.

‘Oh my God!’ Bess said, but Alicia said nothing. Instead she headed for the stairs. ‘Where are you going?’ Bess asked. ‘We’ve got to get to school.’

‘I’m taking a sick day,’ Alicia said.

I got to the door of Diamond Lovesy’s room before either the chief or my husband. I grabbed the knob and turned, but before I could push the door open, I felt something on my wrist. Looking down I saw that the chief had slipped one half of a set of handcuffs onto my right wrist.

‘What the hell?’ I said, trying to pull away. He grabbed my left wrist and finished the process, cuffing me, thankfully in front not in back. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I shouted.

‘Keeping you from interferin’ in an ongoing investigation. Or, maybe I’m keeping you from tampering with evidence. Or possibly even keeping you from destroying evidence, if maybe you’re the one who’s done the deed!’ he said, pulling me away from the door.

‘Now you think I’m a suspect?’ I shouted. ‘God, you are desperate!’

‘Eeg,’ Willis said, touching my shoulder. ‘Calm down—’

I whirled on him. ‘You! You— Don’t touch me!’ I was livid. Possibly as mad as I’ve ever been. At least since the day I found Bess’s birth family. That was horror that turned into great sadness that finally morphed into the most intense anger I’ve ever known. This wasn’t even a close second, but it beat the third by a long shot.

‘Chief, I know you don’t think E.J. had—’

‘If your wife was involved with this, Mr Pugh,’ the chief said, ‘then I think it’s safe to say you were too—’

‘Now just a goddamn minute!’ It was Willis’s turn to shout.

‘I think it best if both of you go downstairs and wait in the living room while I check out Miz Lovesy’s room. Or you think I oughta call Officer Mays in to hold the two of you?’

I turned on my heels and headed for the staircase. I would have surely taken a header to the landing if Willis hadn’t grabbed my cuffed hands to steady me at that first step. Even that wasn’t enough to get him out of my doghouse.

We sat in the living room and waited. Fifteen minutes later, the chief came downstairs. ‘Well, now, looks like back in 2005 Miz Lovesy lived in a town called Bellaire, but that’s when her driver’s license expired, so it’s possible she moved since then. I’ll call this Bellaire town and have it checked out.’

‘Bellaire is a city within the Houston city limits. There are two, actually. Bellaire and West University Place. Both surrounded by Houston.’

‘Got their own PD?’

‘Hum. I know West University does, because my family lived there when I was little, but I’m not sure about Bellaire.’

‘Guess I gotta call Houston then and find out.’

I held up my wrists. ‘They’re chafing,’ I said.

He came toward me with a key and unlocked the cuffs. ‘Sorry about that, but no way were you getting in there first. Little lady, you need to show some restraint.’

I stood and rubbed my wrists. ‘I am showing restraint, Chief. I haven’t hurt you for calling me “little lady” again.’

He grinned at me. ‘You wouldn’t be threatening a peace officer now would you, Miz Pugh?’

‘Of course not,’ I said, and smiled back – although I don’t think mine was as genuine as his. He seemed to be getting quite a kick out of making my life miserable. ‘I was just explaining how I was already showing extreme restraint.’

‘And I do appreciate that,’ he said, his Cheshire grin still in place. ‘But I’m gonna have to buckle under and ask you to come take a look at Miz Lovesy’s room with me. Don’t know if it’s a lady thing or a big city thing, but there’s stuff up there I don’t know diddly-squat about.’

‘I’d be happy to help,’ I said, in what I felt was an appropriately warm and inviting manner.

‘Well, you could be a little nicer about it!’ he said, and headed up the stairs.

I looked at my husband. ‘What?’ I mouthed.

‘You were a trifle patronizing and condescending,’ he said out loud.

‘A trifle?’ said the chief from halfway up the staircase. He shrugged. ‘Maybe a little more than a trifle.’

He continued on and Willis and I followed him. Diamond Lovesy’s room wasn’t as big a mess as her partner Humphrey Hammerschultz’s room had been, but it certainly wasn’t neat. I’m not sure if this was Diamond’s fault, or if it had been caused by the chief’s fifteen-minute search.

It was a well-appointed room, as were all the rooms I’d seen thus far at the Bishop’s Inn. An antique four-poster bed dominated, with turn of the century (nineteenth to twentieth, not twentieth to twenty-first) matching night stands, a six-drawer chest and a dressing table from the thirties, I believe, in a slightly lighter wood with a large round mirror and rounded edges to the table itself. It was in perfect condition. The comforter on the bed was white and covered in wild roses with a bed skirt of cotton eyelet and pillows with cotton eyelet edgings. The bed had been hastily made and there were items of clothing strewn across it, the stuffed chair in the corner (also covered in wild roses), and even some on the floor. Strangely enough, there were plenty of hang-ups in the closet and three of the six drawers of the chest were filled with clothing. It was as if Diamond Lovesy had planned to stay a while in Peaceful. And maybe she had. I had to wonder how she and Humphrey had found out about the ‘hauntings’ at the Bishop’s Inn and what their real intention was in coming here. I was beginning to doubt their story of the phone call from a stranger. Did they plan on becoming so indispensable to Miss Hutchins that they’d be able to just move in? Or was there something more sinister involved? How long had they actually been in Peaceful? Could they have heard about what happened to Miss Hutchins’ mother all those years ago and have somehow managed to stage what had been going on of late? But how?

I shook my head. There were too many questions that were too unanswerable at the moment.

‘So what is it you have questions about?’ I asked the chief.

He pointed to the dressing table. ‘All this crap here. Is it all just lady stuff or what?’

There were jars and tubes and bottles piled on top of the marble center of the dressing table. I sat down on the stool in front of the table and looked at it all. ‘Can I touch this stuff?’ I asked the chief.

He shrugged. ‘If we need to print it I’ll just take your prints for elimination,’ he said.

I glanced at Willis, one eyebrow raised. He imitated the chief with a shrug. I wasn’t sure I was all that happy with Chief Cotton having my fingerprints on file. And if they were on file here, where else would they go? Then I remembered the two or three (OK, make that four) times I’d been jailed in Codderville. I knew that on at least one of those occasions I’d been fingerprinted. The other times were just Luna’s way of getting my attention.

So I picked up a bottle. The lettering on it claimed it was vanilla-scented body spray. I sprayed it – yep, smelled like cookies. There was a jar of night cream, a tube of eye cream, a bottle of shampoo and one of conditioner, a bottle of body wash and a box containing make-up. I rifled through that and discovered Diamond had preferred blue eyeshadow and black eyeliner, but I already knew that just by looking at her. There was mascara – black – and an eyelash curler, three tubes of different shades of very red lipstick, and a black eyebrow pencil. There were two side drawers. One was filled with nail paraphernalia – bottles of polish in varying shades of blues, greens and purples; a dozen or so emery boards; nail clippers and scissors; polish remover and a big bag of cotton balls. In the other drawer were papers: bank statements, unpaid bills, cancellation notices from a cell phone provider, and a plastic sleeve with pictures. My first instinct was to check the address on the bank statements and unpaid bills, but that proved to be a P.O. Box in Houston. I showed these to the chief.

‘Yeah, saw that. Between the Bellaire police and the Houston post office, I might find an address for her,’ he said.

‘I don’t know, Chief,’ I said, looking at all the crap in the room, and at the bills piled in the drawer. ‘I have a feeling this was now Diamond’s home. I’d venture to say wherever she lived in Houston is empty now.’

I picked up the sleeve of pictures. Thumbing through them, I saw only Diamond and Humphrey, and sometimes an older woman who had Humphrey’s arm around her shoulder. I decided this must be Humphrey’s mother, the one Diamond had mentioned. I wondered if she’d ever had the chance to notify the woman of Humphrey’s death. And then there was a photo of Diamond with a very handsome man. They were arm in arm and smiling at the camera.

I heard an intake of breath behind me. Turning, I saw Miss Hutchins standing there. ‘Why is Diamond in that picture with Daddy?’ she asked.

1952

Edgar made his way to Savannah, Georgia – a good town, he’d heard, for a gambler. And that’s what he now considered himself: a professional gambler. But Savannah had real gamblers, real pros, and Edgar was just a midnight snack for them. Within a month he’d lost all his money and was into a shark for over a thousand, with no way of paying it back. He heard of a high-stakes game going on in the rich part of town and, wearing one of his best zoot suits from Biloxi, headed that way. But the buy-in was much more than he had on him – or ever had the hopes of having on him – and they teased him about his clothes. The biggest teaser was a guy named Walker, an arrogant SOB barely out of his teens. He called Edgar a ‘white nigger,’ and shoved him. To Edgar this was the last straw – his dead brother’s straight-razor was out and he sliced the boy named Walker long and deep.

In all truth, the Walker boy would have made it if any of his friends had stayed around to call the authorities, but none did. And neither did Edgar, who ran back to his fleabag hotel only to find part of his belongings out on the street – and not the good stuff either. So there was an altercation with the hotel manager, the straight-razor was brandished again, and the police were called. Once they had him in the jail, it didn’t take long for the truth about the Walker boy to come out. As the only son of a district judge, the boy’s death was considered a major crime and, with no attorney at his side, Edgar took a plea bargain and was sent to prison for twenty years.