Dead to the World (4 page)

‘Hey, kettle, pot calling!’ he said and grinned at me.

‘So everybody’s gone to bed?’ I asked.

‘Well, I helped Miss Hutchins to her room, but Humphrey insisted he had to stay downstairs and do some, as he put it, “recon.”’

‘What does that mean?’ I asked.

Willis rolled off me and sat up, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Hell if I know. The guy’s weird. Even weirder with a little too much whiskey in his belly.’

‘I bet we’ll find him sound asleep on the sofa in the morning,’ I said.

‘Wouldn’t be surprised,’ Willis said and yawned. ‘I’ll brush my teeth in the morning.’ He rolled over and began to snore.

Little did I know at the time that I was more prophetic than Diamond Lovesy. A little wrong, but closer than she’d gotten so far.

1935–1941

Edgar’s deployment to Shanghai didn’t start out well. He discovered seasickness, and lost the entire ten pounds he’d gained during boot camp. Although most trainees lost weight during boot camp, Edgar, who’d been forced into a habit of sporadic eating, discovered three square meals a day much to his liking. This did not continue on the long voyage to China. But once he arrived at the International Settlement outside of Shanghai, the seasickness disappeared and he was able to get back to his three squares a day. He also learned that, despite his overnight stays in the brig, and his less-than-stellar performance in boot camp, he had been assigned to the 4th Marine Regiment, one of the most sought-after assignments in the Marines. Edgar figured getting the 4th was a mistake, but one he saw no reason to rectify. Billets were converted schools, office buildings or private mansions. His platoon was housed in one of the latter, which Edgar figured was his due, after being deprived of the life he could have lived in the house on Post Oak Street back home in Peaceful.

There were other things he discovered about his Shanghai duty that were even better than three meals a day and a nice billet: the U.S. dollar went a very long way, the Chinese and Russian girls were good to look at and better to bed, beer was cheap and, even as a private, Edgar could afford to hire a houseboy to take care of his gear. In fact, he was soon to learn that the Marines based in China – the China Marines – didn’t have to polish their brass, mow the lawn, rake gravel or even keep their barracks clean – all this was done by servants, as were the thirty days a year they were supposed to have kitchen duty, otherwise known as KP.

The International Settlement consisted of American, British, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Dutch communities, with a French compound not far away. The Japanese had been part of that settlement until 1931, when they’d staged an explosion of Japan’s South Manchuria Railway near Mukden. It was then that the Japanese invaded Manchuria. Edgar was regaled with stories of the war between the Chinese and Japanese that was observed by many Marines as they sat behind a three-and-a-half mile front line that had been barbwired and sandbagged with machine guns at the ready. But neither the Chinese nor the Japanese encroached on the International Settlement, and the 4th just had grandstand seats for the war.

It was an easy life for Edgar, one spent buying ivory, pearls and other extravagances he thought would sell well back in the States, seeing how many different women he could bed, and eventually finding his way into Shanghai proper for the added spices of gambling, prostitution and his sin of choice, opium.

But events put a damper on Edgar’s blissful days in Shanghai. During his second year as a China Marine, the Chinese and Japanese were again locked in combat. A final offensive launched by the Japanese Army in October of 1937 led to China’s retreat from Shanghai. This retreat left the International Settlement and the French Concession mere dots on the landscape of Japanese territory. Edgar had no choice now but to stay within the confines of the International Settlement, leading to a few problems with opium withdrawal.

Although the Allied forces within the settlement numbered at no more than 7,500 against the 300,000 Japanese now in residence in Shanghai, the settlement continued its daily routine. What was going on outside it held little interest for Edgar and his few cronies, most of whom, like Edgar, were drying out from opium abuse by becoming what was more acceptable: good old American drunks.

In 1939, during Edgar’s fourth year as a China Marine, Japan’s forces moved southward with the seizure of the Hainan Islands. The hostility of that attack, combined with repeated bombings and atrocities against civilian Chinese, led the U.S. Fleet to move from the American west coast to Pearl Harbor. Edgar didn’t pay too much attention to this: he was more interested in something he’d heard from another jarhead stationed at the Peking Marines’ summer camp at Peitaiho, which overlooked the white sand beaches and the red bluffs at the seaward end of the Great Wall of China. There was an archaeological dig going on there that produced the remains of a 500,000-year-old Peking man’s bones. These remains were to be shipped back to the States in November of 1941, the same month the 4th Marines left China for the Philippines. They were never seen again. It was never proved that Private Edgar Hutchins was in any way involved.

BACK HOME

M
egan ran up to the big, beefy blond man who was trying desperately to remove Bess from his back, and kneed him in the privates. He grunted, doubled over, and Bess fell off him. Alicia ran up and slammed her fist into the guy’s eye and he fell to the pavement, at which point Megan tried kicking him in the head, but having sandals on managed only to hurt her toes. Megan was limping, Alicia was grimacing and holding the hand she’d used to cold-cock the man, and Bess was up but rubbing the hip she fell on when the guy tossed her off his back. Meanwhile, the guy rolled over, got to his feet and ran for a white pick-up truck that had the motor still running. He jumped in and took off, laying rubber as he did so.

Bess was already kneeling by Logan when Megan and Alicia turned around.

‘Is he hurt?’ Alicia asked, kneeling down on the other side.

Logan carefully shook his head. ‘Not really. My pride, maybe.’ Then he grinned. ‘But I gotta say, if I’m gonna be saved by girls, I’m glad it was you three.’

Bess helped him sit up. His lip was bleeding and his left eye was already beginning to swell.

‘You need to put some ice on that eye,’ Bess said.

‘Come on, get up,’ Megan said, extending her arm. Logan took it and between the three of them they managed to get him to his feet.

Seeing that he was still slightly unsteady, Bess put one of his arms around her shoulders to help him walk, but she was so much shorter he had to lean down to accomplish this, which didn’t help his dizziness.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Megan said, moving her smaller sister aside and instead inserting her own shoulders, which were only an inch or two below Logan’s. ‘Let me.’

Seeing Bess’s crestfallen face, Alicia went up to Logan’s other side and grabbed his arm. ‘I think he’ll need both of us. Where to?’ she asked Logan.

‘Back door,’ he said. ‘Do you think that putting a cold steak on the eye like you see in old movies really works? ’Cause we got plenty of beef in the kitchen.’

‘Well, I should hope so,’ Megan said as they moved him toward the back of the restaurant.

Bess led the way and opened the door when they got there, ushering in the trio.

‘What the hell?’ said a man standing at a flat top burner that held several steaks at differing temperatures. He ran up to Logan, yelling over his shoulder to a woman at another station to watch the steaks. ‘What happened?’ the man asked, taking Logan from the two girls and setting him down on a folding chair. ‘And you girls? What happened to y’all?’ he asked, studying Alicia’s swollen hand, Megan’s limp and swollen toes, and Bess’s limp.

Bess spoke up. ‘I was outside getting something from the van and this guy starting hitting on me, and Logan must have seen it from the window, because he came out and tried to talk the guy into leaving me alone, but the guy just went nuts and started whaling on him—’

‘And Alicia and I saw it from the window and ran out to help.’ Megan shrugged.

‘But Logan was the real hero,’ Bess said, smiling and clasping a hand on Logan’s shoulder. He grimaced from pain and she let go.

‘Where is this guy now?’ the man demanded.

‘Long gone, Cam,’ Logan said.

‘Henry,’ the man named Cam called out. ‘Bring three more folding chairs – quick.’ Henry did, and Cam got the girls to sit down. ‘I’m so sorry this happened to you,’ he said to Bess, ‘but I’m not surprised Logan came to your rescue.’ He smiled at his waiter. ‘He’s one of the good guys.’

Bess smiled up at Logan. ‘Yes, he is,’ she said, while Alicia beamed and Megan rolled her eyes.

‘Let’s get a cheap steak for that eye,’ Cam said.

As Cam walked off, Logan smiled at Bess. ‘I guess they still do use beef,’ he said. ‘But I wish you hadn’t told him all that. I was ready to say I fell down.’

‘This sounds more like the truth,’ Bess said.

Cam came back with a small steak and placed it on Logan’s swollen eye. ‘You need to go home, kid,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think you should drive—’

‘That’s OK,’ Bess said. ‘We’ll take him.’

Both her sisters looked at her, Megan glaring.

‘No,’ Logan said, ‘y’all were here for dinner—’

‘Give me your order,’ Cam said, ‘and I’ll have it ready for take-out.’

Bess grinned and recited their order, complete with desserts.

‘It’s on the house,’ Cam said. ‘It’s the least I can do after what happened.’

‘Oh, no!’ Bess started, but Megan pulled her arm.

‘Thank you so much,’ Megan said with a bright smile. ‘But I’m afraid my sister got the order wrong. I had the porterhouse.’

I’m not sure what the time was when it woke me, but sometime in the wee hours. It was a grating sound with a plop at the end:
grrrrrrrrrr-plop, grrrrrrrrrr-plop, grrrrrrrrrr-plop
. I hit my husband in the gut, which is my emergency maneuver. He grunted, not unlike the sound in the hallway.

‘What the—’ he started.

‘Shhhh, listen.’

The
grrrrrrrrrr-plop
was moving away from our doorway, going down the hall toward the stairs.

‘Daddy?’ Willis asked.

‘I doubt it!’ I said and threw the bedclothes off me. Unfortunately I’d only worn my underwear to bed, so it took a moment to find my robe, and even longer for Willis to find his slippers. I was willing to go barefoot, but Willis has a great fear of athlete’s foot and rarely goes barefoot. I’ve even caught him in our shower wearing flip-flops.

Ignoring my husband and his search for adequate footwear, I ran to our bedroom door and opened it. Despite the small butterfly lamp lit on the small trestle table in the hall, I couldn’t see what had been causing the noise. But I could still hear it going down the stairs:
grrrrrrrrrr-plop, grrrrrrrrrr-plop
. Willis bumped into me as we both stared into the hallway.

‘It’s going downstairs,’ I said.

‘So follow it!’ he said, elbowing me in the back.

‘You follow it!’ I said, trying to get behind him.

He pushed me into the hall. ‘Come on, Eeg, you’ve faced worse than this!’

Still I hung back. ‘And how do you know that? We don’t know what
this
is, for God’s sake! You’re the biggest, you go first!’ I said, pulling his arm.

My husband grinned at me. ‘I’m not sure I like this little-girl-lost side of you. I prefer my big, brave mama bear.’

‘Shut up!’ I said and shoved him toward the staircase.

When we got there, we could see nothing, despite the Tiffany lamp on the small telephone table next to the staircase. But we could still hear it, moving toward the front door.

‘Go!’ I whispered loudly. ‘It’s gonna get out!’

‘
It’s?
’ he said. ‘What’s with
it
?’

‘Go!’

He went – gingerly, but he went. Before we got down the stairs, we heard the front door open and close. I rushed past Willis, swung it open and stared out at the night. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I shut the door. Willis rushed up behind me and almost knocked me over.

‘Now you hurry!’ I said, both hands on his chest as I pushed him back.

‘Hey, me going first was your idea!’ he said.

‘I guess I didn’t realize you were such a weenie!’

‘I’ll show you weenie!’ he said and grabbed me in a manly hug. I know these things – I write romance novels.

I giggled and pushed him away. Miss Hutchins certainly believed in night lights. There was another burning in the living room. On a table next to the sofa.

The sofa on which I had earlier declared we’d find Humphrey Hammerschultz asleep in the morning. Well, it was sort of morning, but he wasn’t so much
on
the sofa, as half falling off, and he wasn’t so much asleep as, well, dead.

BACK HOME

‘Is there someplace y’all can take me other than my house? My mom will freak when she sees my face. I can call her and say I’ve gotta stay late and come in early. Something like that. Let this heal up,’ Logan said, riding shotgun while Bess drove. Even though it was Alicia’s turn, she had recognized what was going on between Bess and Logan, handed her sister the keys and quickly crawled into the back seat with Megan.

‘You’ll come home with us,’ Bess said with some authority. ‘Right, girls?’

‘Sure!’ Alicia said with a big smile.

‘Whatever,’ Megan said, sniffing the air. ‘God, can you smell that porterhouse? I might die before we ever get home!’

She didn’t. Bess pulled into the driveway and up to the back door, hoping Elena Luna, their cop neighbor, wasn’t looking in their direction. She hustled Logan into the great room while her sisters brought in the sacks of food. There was even a little one marked ‘Logan,’ that his friend Cam had packed just for him.

‘What do you think that is?’ Bess asked as she helped unload the food.

‘My nightly hamburger,’ he said. ‘I got burned out on steaks the second week I worked there. Now I alternate between fried chicken and a hamburger.’

Megan had unloaded her own food and was already sitting on a stool at the bar cutting into her oversized porterhouse. ‘God, who could ever get tired of steak? You’re obviously not a Texan!’ she said.

‘Am too,’ Logan said. ‘Born in Houston, moved here when I was two.’

Megan was no longer paying attention to anyone or anything other than her plate.

‘So,’ Bess started, her head bent to the task of removing food from bags – anything not to look directly at Logan. ‘What was that all about tonight? Who was that guy?’

She glanced up at that point, only to see Logan looking anywhere but at her. ‘Nobody,’ he finally said.

Unfortunately Megan heard that. ‘What nobody? Nobody comes along and beats the crap out of you?’

Logan shrugged, and Bess said, ‘Megs, pay attention to your food or someone else might take a bite.’

‘Not on my watch,’ Megan said, and hunched over her plate to better shovel food into her face.

‘I’m just glad you’re OK,’ Alicia said. ‘Well, sort of OK.’

‘Why don’t we eat?’ Logan suggested, a big, maybe phony, smile on his face. ‘The food Cam makes is really good. But you don’t want to eat it cold.’

So Bess and Alicia set the food at certain places, Alicia painstakingly placing Logan’s hamburger at the far end of the bar, and Bess’s sirloin right next to him. Her own fillet she placed next to Megan’s spot. She couldn’t help noticing the major size difference in Megan’s porterhouse and her own fillet. She leaned toward Megan and speared an already cut piece of Megan’s steak.

‘Hey!’ Megan cried, aiming her own fork at Alicia’s hand. Alicia moved the hand with the fork and meat quickly to her mouth, outmaneuvering her foster sister.

‘How many times has Mom told you that Miss Manners said you only cut up more than one piece of meat for children? It’s your own fault.’

‘I’m still a child – officially,’ Megan said.

‘Damn. This porterhouse is good. Can I have an—’

‘Only if you want to lose a hand!’

Ignoring her sisters, Bess asked Logan, ‘Are you in trouble? I mean, that guy seemed really mad. Did you do something, you know, that you shouldn’t have?’

What was left of Logan’s face that wasn’t already a different color turned red.

‘Like what?’ he asked, not looking at her.

Bess sighed. ‘I don’t know. Like maybe took some weed or something on consignment and didn’t pay him?’

Logan snorted and finally looked at Bess. ‘You watch too much TV,’ he said.

It was Bess’s turn to blush. ‘Then what?’ she said, finally making full eye contact. And what eyes! The blue of the sky on a summer’s day, the blue of a becalmed Caribbean, the blue of a sleeping smurf …

Breaking eye contact, Logan looked down the line of the bar at Bess’s sisters. They were busy sniping at each other, paying no attention to Logan and Bess. He sighed, then said, ‘Remember Harper Benton?’

‘Yes, of course. Although I haven’t seen her since winter break.’

‘She dropped out,’ Logan said.

‘You’re kidding! That’s so … so …’

‘Trashy?’ Logan supplied.

‘Well, certainly ill-advised,’ Bess countered. ‘But what has that got to do with that guy tonight?’

‘That was her brother, Tucker.’

Bess shook her head. ‘I still don’t see the connection. What do you have to do with Harper dropping out of school?’

‘He thinks it’s my fault,’ Logan said, again looking down at his plate.

‘Why?’

Logan sighed and looked up. ‘Because she’s pregnant.’

I went to awaken Miss Hutchins while Willis dialed 911. The old lady’s room was warmer than the rest of the house – almost stifling. I saw a red light shining on her dressing table and, getting closer to it, realized it was emitting hot air. From what I could see through the open doorway, the room was well – if not old fashionably – furnished, with a huge sleigh bed, the ornately carved dressing table and a matching chest of drawers, and everything was covered with tatted and crocheted doilies. Unfortunately the room smelled of rose scent and Ben-Gay. Not a pleasant mixture.

I touched Miss Hutchins lightly on the arm and she awoke instantly, not the least disoriented. ‘E.J.,’ she said. She glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table. It read four a.m. ‘What’s happened?’

‘There’s been an accident,’ I said.

‘Move,’ she said, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The bed was possibly two feet off the ground, and her bare feet didn’t touch the floor. ‘My stool,’ she said, indicating a small tapestry-covered stool that I’d inadvertently shoved to the side. I moved it under her feet. She lowered her toes then stood up. ‘My slippers,’ she said. I found them where I’d shoved them under the bed. I wasn’t going to win any prizes for grace tonight.

I helped her step down from the stool and into her slippers.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked up at me and said, ‘Now. What is it?’

‘Humphrey Hammerschultz appears to be dead,’ I said.

‘Oh, bother,’ she said. ‘I didn’t like him much, but this is just uncalled for. You said accident. Was it? Or was it foul play?’

Remembering the sight of his head’s unnatural bent, I would put my first bet on a broken neck. I didn’t see how one could break one’s neck by falling off a sofa that was less than a foot off the floor. But it wasn’t my place to say. ‘We’ll leave that to the police,’ I told her. ‘Willis is calling them now.’

‘Have you awakened his partner?’ Miss Hutchins asked as she headed for the door.

‘I thought we should let her sleep it off,’ I said.

She nodded. ‘Good. She’d just muck things up anyway.’ With her hand on the knob of her bedroom door, she turned and looked at me. ‘You know Daddy had something to do with this, don’t you? Or are you still trying to deny what you don’t understand?’

I just shrugged my shoulders, not able to get the sound of the
grrrrrrrrrr-plop
ping that had led to our discovery out of my head.