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It was a hasty job of cleaning up the store.
One at a time, he carried both unconscious men into the basement and locked the door from the outside. Not killing the two prospects felt like he made a positive change in his life, but it did create a set of problems.
What should he do with them now?
How long would they remain unconscious?
Chester had a severe wound that didn’t appear life-threatening, but Brody wasn’t a doctor.
If he did nothing and the prospect died from his wound, was he responsible?
Should I call for help? he wondered.
The questions plagued Brody as he ran up to his apartment. He hurriedly changed his shirt and pants as they were covered with both blood and ice cream. In new attire, he returned to the bookstore.
He was about to formulate a plan of action when he saw the older man outside the store. With hands around his eyes, Herbert Paxton pressed his face against the window of the front door. When he saw the big man inside, he knocked several times.
“I’m closed,” Brody yelled.
The older man pounded once again.
“Closed!” Brody hollered and waved him on.
Herb frowned and changed his tactic. He tapped his knuckles against the door in a steady rhythm that quickly became annoying.
“Persistent old coot,” Brody muttered and hurried to the door. He unlocked it and pulled it open.
“What are you doing?” Herb asked.
“Nothing,” Brody said. Quickly realizing that it was an inadequate response, he followed it up with, “Getting ready to get some lunch.”
“You’re not going to sell many books if you close down in the middle of the day.”
“I’m doing fine as it is.”
Herb’s eyes scanned the store. “Geez Louise, what happened in here?”
“The cat’s helping me remodel.”
The older man pushed past Brody. His eyes first went to the destroyed cardboard display, then the tipped-over book spinner.
“Bulldog did all this?”
“Bulldog?”
“Bulldog Drummond. My name for the cat.”
Herb bent down and touched his fingers to the hardwood floor. When he lifted them, he rubbed them together. “That’s blood, boy.”
“It is?” Brody asked.
“You sure Bulldog is, okay?”
“He’s fine. That was from me. I got a bloody nose from the cat.”
“The cat gave you a bloody nose?”
“He bonked me.”
Herb studied Brody’s face. “There’s blood all ovah your head and neck, boy.”
Brody swallowed. He hadn’t bothered to check himself in a mirror while in his apartment.
The older man’s eyes narrowed as he continued to examine Brody’s nose. “Must have been a heck of a bleedah.”
“He was.”
“What?”
“It was. My nose, I mean.”
“Where’s the cat?” Herb slowly asked. “Hey, Bulldog, where you at?”
The older man walked into the middle of the store. He placed his hands on his hips. “I like that cat. You better hope nothing has happened to him.”
“Him? I’m the one with the bloody nose.”
“You probably deserved it,” the old man said with a decisive nod.
Travis wandered out then, looked up at Herb, and sat. The old man said, “That’s what I like about cats. They only need to see you. Don’t need a whole lot of love beyond that.”
“Was there something you wanted, Herb? I’ve really got to get going.”
“Geez, some people have got no patience. I was coming by to tell you something about Alice, but if you ain’t got time to hear it...”
Brody held up his hands. “What is it?”
“Remember I said there was something she was working on with that writah girl?”
“Yeah,” Brody said. “I already talked with her.”
“Carrie told you about their story?”
Brody was surprised that Herb would know about Carrie writing Alice’s biography. That would reveal too much about Alice’s life as Evelyn Spier and would jeopardize her position in the Witness Protection Program. He thought she would have been more careful in her life.
“She told me she was writing a book,” Brody said. “She didn’t say what it was about.”
“See, Navy boy,” the old man said, smiling. “I know something you don’t.”
“Herb, just tell me what you know so you can leave me in peace.”
“They were working on a heist story, wiseacre.”
“A heist?”
“You know, a robbery.”
“I know what a heist is.”
“It was pretty exciting how Alice and Carrie laid it out.”
“Why would they tell you?”
“The two of them needed my advice.”
“Your advice?”
“Ayuh, I used to be a city plannah for a lot of years. I know the ins and outs of all the buildings in Pleasant Valley.”
“Were they asking you about a specific building?”
“That’s right. They were asking about the building where the little Italian restaurant is now. Had a whole story planned for it.”
Brody shook his head then. He knew what the two women had been doing and suddenly believed Alice Walker was very much alive.