Magnolia Gods (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 2) (14 page)

“I remember that the Captain told me to not worry about the jars of explosive, that he would put them away later.”

Mike thought he could see a smile among the wrinkles in her face.

“He was such a nice guy. Not like those stuffy Navy officers that came around to check on projects. So much at war all the time. Like the war was never going to be over. Like they wanted it to go on. The Captain even said that one time.”

“What?”

“That some of those officers wanted the war to go on, to keep going. He said that he could not understand them. The Aviatrice representatives were around, too. Always wanting to know what the Captain was really doing. Towards the end of the war they would take me out for dinner and try to find out things about the Captain, stuff about the work and personal things too, like they were trying to get something on him, something to use against him. Hiram Jones was their man, their plant, in the lab. We all knew it.”

She brushed away a tear. “The day Jones came into the lab it was like a cloud came over everything. The Captain he got real nervous, jumped at me for little things, spent a lot of time by himself. I wished he would just go off with me and a bottle, but he wouldn’t drink anymore. Nobody would talk to this Hiram. He would come in so dressed up in his Navy uniform and talking about his future with Aviatrice, and the Captain he would tell me on the sly that the man had never even got that uniform dirty.”

“The Captain made sure Hiram did not get too close to the seaplane. He had him working on other projects.

“My desk was over on the side of the laboratory, away from the Captain’s office. That day, the Fourth, when I went in to the Captain’s office after lunch to pick up my typing, I spotted a big map out on the Captain’s desk. He was planning another flight.”

“Do you know where he was going?”

“No, I couldn’t see the map very clearly.”

Robin looked at Mike.

“There was one other thing different that last week,” Becca said. “He had the name painted on the side of the plane. Took me by the hand and led me out to the ramp. Showed me the big white letters on top of the Navy blue spelling out the words ‘Magnolia Whispers.’ He’d always referred to the seaplane by this name. I don’t know why. I asked him one time what it meant, and he said that it referred to a weapon to end all weapons. You can tell I didn’t understand the things he said.

“She was a pretty airplane. Those seaplanes were ugly to some people. Some called them Dumbo like the cartoon character. I never did. I liked the look. Lots of other seaplanes were parked on the ramp, but she looked better than any of the others. Different too because of the special engines.

“I left the laboratory late in the afternoon on the Fourth. I was supposed to meet him at my apartment. We were going to watch the fireworks. He never came, never called, nothing. He would do that sometimes. I did not worry about it. I figured maybe his wife had got after him. I had a few drinks and went to bed.

“The explosion woke me up. Flames over on the horizon. I didn’t know it was the lab until they came to see me the next morning. That was a hot day, the hottest it had been for a long time. The police and the others tried to ask me questions right way. I listened for a while then asked them why they were there. Then they told me the news. I sat down and I knew I would not tell them anything more. Somehow I knew he was dead. I knew that was why he had not been with me the night before.

“After a few more moments, I began to shake and stammer and the answers I gave them were all mixed up so they finally stopped asking me. What I wanted to tell them was different from what they asked. I wanted to tell them about me and the Captain and how it was. I knew I couldn’t tell about that, so I just stopped telling anything.”

She looked at Mike. “I have never been able to talk about this before. I guess you two came along just in time. I’m dying.”

Mike smoothed her old hand.

“He was a good lover. That mattered to me. I wanted to talk about that but I had no one to tell.” The old woman sat up more. “I liked to think about it and I still do all these years. I can tell you every move me and him made during the time we was together. It’s what has kept me going all these years. Living in here then outside again for a few days then back again. Each time outside was worse. Men were always grabbing at me because whatever else I did not have I always had a good body that men liked to touch. Always I could get enough for a bottle to drink.

“My foster mother used to say the same thing. Always she could get enough for a bottle to drink. I never did the whoring she did though. She worked all those hours when I was a little girl and I wished so hard she could have been home with me. I don’t hold nothing against her, though. You don’t want to get me wrong about my mother.

“No, I just fucked for the whiskey, good stuff in the early days in here when I was younger, then any kind of booze I could get. Every time I’d get too drunked up, I’d come on back in here and sober up for a few weeks.”

“Back during the War, on Friday nights that’s when me and the Captain would get away. Just the two of us in that red convertible of his. We’d go down to Bethany on the ocean. He would tell me that I was the only person in the world he could talk to about flying. Maybe it was because I would listen and not say anything, just listen to him. I sure did not know what he was talking about, unless he started in describing our bodies together. He was great about that, real poetic. Other times though, he would tell me about flying with the great pilots over the last years before the war. He knew all the chief pilots for the Pan American Clippers, the big seaplanes.

“We’d get this little cottage down to Bethany. Most times it was the same one. They knew us. They’d try to save this particular one. I went down there one time a few years back when I had a little money ahead and got out of here on vacation. Went down on the bus. The cottage was torn down, replaced by a supermarket. Selling food where we used to make love. I guess that’s all right. I’m glad I made the trip one more time over to Bethany. I won’t be going again. It was a long trip in the bus and these legs are not what they used to be.

“Back in the good days, I remember we would walk down the beach to the guard station. They were right out there on the beach in their concrete little fort. The Captain said they were watching for Nazi submarines but they told us they never saw any.

“Sometimes, we’d drive down to the beach late in the evening, neither one of us bothered by the mosquitoes.” She smiled, “What did you say your name was?”

“Mike.”

“Mike, I still am not bothered by the mosquitoes to this day. We’d jump right out of that red car with its radio easing Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Serenade, tear off the clothes we still had on and run right up into the dunes and that loving sand. Oh, Lord, it was so good. He could last and last and last. We’d stay out sometimes all night when the stars were up over the ocean and doze and talk and screw till it was morning. Then we’d go back to the cottage and lie in the bed in our sweat and sleep until it was time to go back out again to our fun.” She sighed. “There, even in this dead old body I feel some life. I’ve had my time to tell about me and him one more time.”

She paused. “Only one person really knew the truth about his plans.”

Mike leaned forward.

“His wife. She knew. He never told me all of his business. Maybe he didn’t want me to get in trouble. Maybe he never trusted me like he trusted her. I like to think he loved me best but it doesn’t matter. I thought we were close enough to share and I like to think he wanted to protect me. It helps me die easy, thinking about him this way.”

She whispered. “Deep down, his wife, he trusted with where he was going that day. She knew and she never told. When she died the secret went with her into the ground.” Then she cackled. “Those Aviatrice men, that Wall, he’ll have to ask the worms in her grave. Try beating the truth out of them. Ha ha.”

Robin was standing by the window. She turned to Mike and said, “State Police cars are outside. Three of them just arrived. We’re going to have to get out of here.”

“Why should they be looking for us?” Mike asked.

“You want to take a chance?” she answered.

“No, I guess not,” Mike said. “We better get out of here.”

Chapter Eight

8 PM, July 1

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

“If they are not looking for us, then why are they searching our car?” said Robin.

“I knew I liked you two.” Becca moved slowly, sitting up and then putting her thin legs over the side of the bed. “Come on, we’ll take on the police together.”

“You stay there, Becca,” said Mike, looking at Robin.

“If we can get into Philadelphia I know a place to go,” said Robin.

“Let me help,” Becca pleaded, her old hands grasping Mike’s arm. “I want one more crack at them. I’ll show you the vacation gate.”

“Vacation gate?” said Robin.

“The way we get ourselves out of here at night. Won’t do me no good no more. You help me down from this damn bed.”

“I’ll carry you,” said Mike. He picked up the old woman and the three of them went out into the corridor. No attendants were in sight.

“They’re all down at the lobby,” Becca said. “The police coming is the biggest thing that has happened around here in a long time. Believe me, the only other excitement is when the fire alarm goes off. Unfortunately, the alarms are accidental. We never have real fires.”

She shifted in his arms and pointed to a door halfway down the hall.

“You got to go there,” she said. “Put me down. Me being further down the corridor will just tip them off. You leave me here at my door.”

“Tell us what to do,” said Robin.

“Go through that door,” she said, her voice alive with excitement, “And you’ll see the stairway. Halfway down the steps, a small closet is on the side. Open its door and go inside. It’s dark, but don’t you worry. You won’t be there long. In the back you’ll find a couple of loose boards. You pull them out, and you’ll find the stairway. Just follow it but be quiet. It runs right behind the lobby wall.”

The stairway was where Becca said it was. They groped along in the darkness, the stair ending in a narrow corridor. They had to stoop to clear the ceiling. As they passed where the lobby was behind the wall on their right, they heard through the plaster the reception nurse talking.

“Two people came in to visit Becca,” said the nurse. “That’s all I know. What are they wanted for?”

A deeper voice answered her. “Ma’am, the man was at the scene of a double homicide in Philadelphia earlier today. We found his business card in the hand of one of the murdered people. He stripped ‘em naked and robbed them. We found an empty box in the hand of one of them, a woman.”

“He seemed like such a nice person.”

“We know he used to be a professional boxer. You can be sure he’ll kill you first and ask questions later. He’d know how to hurt somebody real bad. If you don’t mind, we’re going to send a couple of men to the room of this resident he was visiting. If we can, we’d like to surprise him.”

“There’s a woman with him.”

“We’ll be careful,” the deep voice said. Mike heard the footsteps going away.

Robin pushed him. “Keep moving,” she whispered.

The corridor finally ended at another door. Mike nudged it carefully and, despite all the rust on the hinges, it opened to the evening twilight with only a slight creak. He had a fleeting thought of all the patients who had used this door.

“The inhabitants keep these boards well oiled,” he whispered. They were in a back garden area filled with large bushes.

“We’ve got a chance, Robin.”

After what seemed a long time but was only minutes, they had run almost a mile from the hospital. They were now in woodland, going from tree to tree. When they paused to catch their breath, Mike said, “The Aviatrice people. They must have come in to see Winkee and the girl right after I left that apartment.”

“We’ll get out of this,” she said.

“Have we got any money?”

“I have a little,” replied Robin.

“I have some money and my phone.”

“Wait,” she said.

“What?” asked Mike.

“They’ll be looking for us on the streets. I don’t look much like a museum person, dressed in jeans. As for you, we’ll have to get rid of your jacket and tie.”

Mike took off the tie and coat.

“Here, take off your socks too,” she said appraising him. “A man without socks looks a little more casual.”

“What’s next?” said Mike, as they began walking again.

“We’ll get on a bus and get the hell out of here.”

In about an hour they had used the street buses and had arrived in downtown Philadelphia.

“What now, Robin? You said you had a place to go.”

“We’ve got a way to go,” she answered.

“I’m going to make one call. I know one person who can tell me what’s going on.”

“Who?”

“Tim,” he said.

“He works for Aviatrice.”

“He’s also my friend,” Mike replied. “I know his home telephone by heart.”

As they walked, Mike dialed the number on his cell. He heard Tim’s phone ring several times. Then the familiar old voice answered.

“Tim, it’s Mike.”

“You shouldn’t be calling me.”

“Tim, I didn’t do anything to those people.”

“You shouldn’t be calling.”

“OK, you call me.” Mike gave him the number.

“Mike, I don’t think I should get any more involved in this.”

“You’re one of the few people my father trusted with his life.”

Mike hung up and waited. He looked around the street. Many people were walking by them and a few cars were passing on the street. None looked like police. He kept his eyes on alleyways where they could quickly hide.

“We won’t get out of jail if they arrest us, Robin.” He told her what had happened to Jesse’s father.

He went on, “They know we have Hiram’s old papers from Winkee’s box, so Aviatrice will send out its hounds. They know we have information and I’m pretty sure that what we have is enough to scare them. What we have will start an investigation of the location of that plane. They don’t want that.”