The Girl in White Pajamas Page 7

  He knew the old man would punch him in the back as soon as they went down the courthouse steps, and Baxter McGruder did not disappoint him. It wasn’t the first time his father beat him and wouldn’t be the last.

  Elizabeth McGruder, when she called him anything, took to calling him ‘Bog–dune’ believing it sounded more WASPish than a Hunky sounding name like Boghdun ‘Boogh–down’. Since they both had blue eyes, people who were not aware of the family dynamics believed that Bogie was her natural born son since her own two children had their father’s brown eyes.

  Now as the last male McGruder he was expected to deal with all the family crap when he wasn’t really part of the family.

  Bogie was about to ring the bell to Elizabeth McGruder’s brownstone when he heard a car brake in front of the house. The vehicles behind it in the heavy traffic beeped their horns. Bogie turned around and watched as Randy Carpenter, wearing a wool peacoat, got out of a yellow cab carrying a duffle in one hand and holding the top hook of a garment bag with the other. Bogie’s first thought was that at least Randy, unlike Amanda, remembered to bring a garment bag. They looked at each other expressionless. Finally, Randy said, “If it makes you feel any better, take a swing at me!”

  The corner of Bogie’s mouth twitched before he said, “It wouldn’t do a thing for me, but if it would make you feel any better I’ll be glad to oblige.”

  Deflated, Randy said, “I’m sorry. It got out of hand.”

  Bogie nodded once. “I didn’t walk out there to fight with you. I only wanted to remind you to treat my daughter with respect.” When he saw the relief on Randy’s face, he added, “But I only remind someone once.”

  “I do respect her. I love her. I…should have said something sooner. Can I speak to her?” Randy asked.

  Bogie shook his head as they walked through the front door. He pointed at Randy while speaking to James. “This is Amanda’s…friend.”

  While James smiled and shook Randy’s hand, Bogie continued, “She’s not here. She’s out shopping with Rose.”

  Randy set his luggage down next to Bogie’s and sighed. He knew only too well that a shopping trip with Aunt Rose insured that Amanda would come home with new outrageously overpriced clothes.

  Bogie, Randy Carpenter, James and Trudie sat around the kitchen table while Randy wolfed down three large pieces of the coffee cake with two cups of black coffee. He told the old couple how he moved in with his father a year and half earlier when he got a job with the Palm Beach Sheriff’s Office. “There was nothing going on in Ohio. More factories were closed than open. Guys I went to high school with are still working two or three minimum wage jobs just to make ends meet. My mom’s been a hairdresser as long as I remember, and she said she’s bringing home half of what she used to. Customers don’t come in as often and tips are way down. I called my dad and asked him to keep his eyes open for any job openings in Florida. I was lucky to get the job with the PBSO; but, you know, after a while you understand why it’s called a job.”

  Bogie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like working in law enforcement?”

  Randy shrugged. “If I could just do my job and go home, it would be great. But there are all these politics and back stabbing and crap going on.”

  The side of Bogie’s mouth twitched. “You think that’s the only place where that happens? No matter where you work, it’s the same shit.”

  Randy shrugged and said, “I guess so. I don’t care as long as I have Mandie to come home to.”

  The doorbell rang, James stood up and Randy froze in place.

  Looking at Randy’s pale face, Bogie said, “Talk to her in the parlor. You can close the door and have some privacy.”

  Randy got up and walked down the hallway toward the front door. When Amanda saw him, her lips quivered and her shoulders shook, one tear rolled down her cheek as she stood looking at him. He held her hands. “I’m sorry, Mandie.”

  They held on to each other as she cried then Randy led her to the parlor.

  Rose walked in the kitchen and sighed. “Well, she’s not our baby anymore!” Without waiting for an invitation, she poured herself a mug of black coffee, opened the back door and walked out to have a cigarette. She stood in the small yard and inhaled deeply.

  Bogie looked up when he heard pipes rattling above him knowing that Herself and Ann were probably awake and showering or bathing or doing whatever they do. The in-house phone rang in the kitchen. James answered, “Yes, Miss Ann.”

  Ann walked down the stairs and moved immediately into the dining room. She sat at the dining room table looking pale. Bogie walked in the dining room from the kitchen carrying a cup of black coffee and two slices of buttered toast with jam. Studying the table, Ann said, “James” when she heard movement behind her.

  “Yes,” Bogie answered.

  Ann looked up immediately. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were James. Where is he?”

  “He’s in the kitchen. I told him I’d bring your breakfast in since I wanted to talk to you.”

  Her hand shook as she started to raise the cup. She put it down, grabbed a piece of toast and started chewing on it. Bogie studied her then said, “Annie, you can’t go on like this!” Ann lay the toast back down on the plate as she stared at him. He continued, “You’ve got to get out of this house!”

  “And do what with mother? Leave her by herself?”

  Bogie shook his head. “You’ve both got to get out of this house! Do you want to end up like her?”

  Before Ann could answer, Elizabeth McGruder walked into the dining room tapping her walking stick as she moved. “Who closed the doors to the parlor?” she demanded.

  Bogie looked at Ann and said, “Amanda and—”

  “Amanda!” the old woman shrieked. “She’s a thief! She stole the guns from—”

  “No, she didn’t!” Bogie said angrily. “I took them!”

  Elizabeth McGruder studied him as she sat down. “Why?” she asked.

  “They needed to be cleaned and oiled.”

  “Who gave you permission?” the old woman asked haughtily.

  Bogie stood up quickly and said a bit too loudly, “Well, slap my ass and call me cheeky!” He walked into the kitchen as Rose stood in front of the sink smiling and shaking her head. “You’re so suave, Sport! And slick as shit in a sneaker!” Rose checked her watch. “We’ve got about three hours so let’s use them wisely.”

  “Don’t you have work to do?”

  “Jesus is covering the shop till two o’clock.”

  “Now he gets to be King for a Day,” Bogie said knowing Jesus considered himself invaluable to the running of R&B. Bogie’s feeling was that Jesus was a great asset who didn’t need to remind them of that fact every chance he got.

  Rose pointed toward the front hallway. “You checked out of the hotel?”

  “Yes! I felt like I was sleeping in a box, a very small box!”

  “You are a pain in my ass!” Rose said. She pointed up to the ceiling. “You could go back to your old room on the third floor.” When she saw the sour face that Bogie made, she said, “Or, you could do what you should have done in the beginning and stay at my place.”

  “I thought you didn’t like people crapping up your million dollar condo?”

  “I don’t. And it was seven-fifty, not a million.”

  “After you figure in closing costs, tax, condo fees—”

  Rose held up her hand. “Okay! My million dollar condo! You’re welcome to stay.”

  Bogie shook his head. “Thanks anyway, but I know someone who might be looking for a place.”

  Rose studied him. “Are you talking about Randy?”

  Bogie shook his head again. “Amanda. She doesn’t take too kindly to being called—

  Rose cut him off. “She already spoke to me. She’s coming home with me. If you don’t want to come over and sleep on the couch, go stay with Pop!”

 
; Bogie shook his head. “He’s still pissed at me.”

  “Isabella?”

  Bogie nodded. “He thinks I should be in her life now. I think he also misses having a little one around, and you’re not holding up your end by providing grandchildren.”

  “He knows he’s got a better chance hassling you than he does me. You can find your own hotel then, just go online. What about Randy?”

  Bogie shrugged. “Let him figure it out. Whatever he decides, they’ll probably be together.”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  “That’s irrelevant! I was just stating a fact.”

  “Did you talk to Ann about getting ahold of the doctor and the attorney?”

  “Not exactly. My last conversation with her didn’t go too well.”

  “What a shock! What a fuck’n shock! The silver-tongued orator offended yet another person, say it ain’t so! I’ll talk to Ann and go with her. Meanwhile, you can take Amanda and Randy over to my place.” She took a tiny Gucci change purse from her small shoulder bag, opened it and produced a single key. Handing it to him, she said, “I’ll call security and let them know they’re coming. And you…get a suit!”

  “Did you know that Filene’s Basement closed down?” Bogie asked.

  “Yes, and believe it or not, there are other stores in Boston. Louis of Boston moved over to Fan Pier in case you’re looking for them.” When she saw the horrified look on Bogie’s face, Rose added, “And Brooks Brothers is right there on State Street.”

  “Isn’t there a Marshall’s around here?” Bogie asked.

  Rose sighed. “Listen up! You’re a big boy now! You can get down off the porch and bark with the big dogs! You and I both know you can afford it. Open the wallet, let the moths out, then start peeling out some greenbacks!”

  “But,” Bogie said.

  “Be brave!” Rose mocked.

  “I hate this shit!” he complained.

  “I know. You’ve made that clear. Get a decent suit and real shoes instead of those fuck’n things,” Rose said pointing to his New Balance sneakers.

  “No one will know the difference.”

  “I will! Unless you’re still in mourning for Steve Jobs, get a pair of shoes!”

  “I have to get a window. Who do I call for glass?”

  15 IS THERE A MARY POPPINS IN THE HOUSE?

  Weston, Massachusetts

  It was almost four o’clock. Their movie was over, the Twinkies and juice boxes were gone and Kim was flat out on the couch. Isabella knew she was alive after she checked Kim’s pulse just like the doctor on TV did. She heard a car move down the driveway and jumped up. “Kim! Kim! I think Mommy’s home!”

  Kim didn’t stir, and Isabella ran into the dining room and looked out the back window. Uncle Jack got out of his car, but there was no Mommy. They usually drove in together. Where was Mommy? She shook Kim’s shoulder and got no response. Frustrated, Isabella went through the kitchen and down the cellar stairs. She found her jacket on top of the dryer and put it on. She walked over to her uncles’ house. After she rang the doorbell, she was surprised when the door wasn’t immediately opened. She rang again. George opened the door and looked down. “Izzy, what are you doing here?”

  “I saw Uncle Jack’s car but Mommy wasn’t with him. I want to know where Mommy is.”

  Jack Hampfield, with long red curly hair just like Isabella’s asked, “Where’s Kim?”

  “She’s sleeping. I can’t wake her up.”

  The men looked at each other and brought the child into the house. “You walked over here by yourself?” George asked.

  Isabella nodded.

  “That’s very dangerous, Izzy,” Jack scolded.

  Isabella’s eyes filled with tears. “I was worried. Something’s wrong with Mommy and…” She started crying. Both men tried to grab her, but George who was closer, lifted her into his arms and hugged her. “Don’t cry, Izzy, everything is going to be fine. Your mother is fine.” He repeated this mantra although he was beginning to wonder what kind of horrible mess he’d become involved in.

  “But she didn’t come home with you,” Isabella sniffled.

  “I had to be in court in Worcester today, so we took separate cars. She’s still in Boston.”

  The child nodded. “Okay. I’ll go home now.”

  “No!” both men said simultaneously. “Wait till we get our jackets on, and we’ll walk over with you,” George added.

  When the small group entered the basement. The house was quiet. They walked up the stairs and found Kim passed out on the couch in front of the TV. George immediately walked over, grabbed her shoulders, lifted her up and set her upright none too gently. “Wake up while you’re still able to do so!” George said through his teeth.

  Kim’s eyes opened wide as she listened to the murderous tone of George’s voice.

  As Isabella sat in the kitchen with her Uncle Jack, they shared more juice boxes and pretended not to listen to George trying to keep his voice down but forgetting when he used such words as irresponsible, drugs and child endangerment.

  Although they had planned on a quiet evening at home, Jack and George agreed that it would be better to order pizza and have an early dinner right there while they awaited Bailey’s return. Jack and George were on edge, and Kim was upset. Isabella picked up on their sour mood. They chewed their pizza without enthusiasm. When Jack’s cellphone rang, he checked the caller ID and answered it smiling. “We were getting worried...What!? Oh good God!”

  16 JOY RIDE

  Boston

  Bailey’s head ached, but so did her back and elbow. She tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of her, but her eyes glazed over as she relived every horrible second of Saturday night. The fear, the rage, the blood! There was so much blood, more than she could have ever imagined.

  When she realized she’d been looking at the same page for twenty minutes, Bailey decided to call it a day. She certainly wasn’t accomplishing anything by sitting here staring at a piece of paper.

  She left the file sitting on her desk, knowing she’d never look at it at home. All Bailey wanted to do was go home, spend time with Isabella and call it an early night. Rubin was long gone from the office as was the receptionist, so Bailey locked up and took the elevator down to the street floor. As she crossed the narrow alley to the garage entrance, Bailey tried to remember where she parked her car. Was it five? Was it six? She decided to take the elevator to the sixth floor then start walking around till she reached the lower level. Her BMW was just where she left it--on the fifth level. Bailey started the car, which was parked nose out, and headed toward the exit ramp. As the car started down the spiral ramp, it moved too fast. Bailey tapped her foot on the break, and the BMW accelerated. She slammed her foot on the brake, and the car went faster. Bailey pulled the emergency brake. She screamed as the car sped down the ramp, crashed through the wooden barrier and raced out onto Washington Street where it collided with cars parked on the street.

  17 ROUND AND ROUND SHE GOES

  Jack and Bailey rode in the car staring straight ahead. Jack’s jaw was tight. He held the steering wheel with a death grip while trying to keep his eyes on the road as the rain, windshield wipers and oncoming white lights made visibility difficult. Bailey’s green eyes were swollen from crying and her white complexion was peppered with red blotches. As usual, her hair was wild. She continued sniffling and dabbed her eyes, then her dripping nose with a balled up tissue.

  “I just keep thinking about last Saturday! When I was in the garage, I didn’t pay attention to anything till I was going down the ramp. The brakes were gone! The car was going faster and faster! I thought I was going to die! I really thought I was going to die, and all I could think about was Izzy!”

  “You wouldn’t listen to me!” Jack yelled. “I don’t know why I ever went along with your crazy idea. Before long, we won’t have to worry about pr
acticing law. We’ll both be in jail. And now some fuck’n nut job is trying to kill you! And what about Izzy? Did you consider her? That poor little thing was so upset George had to stay with her and hold her until she fell asleep. That fuck’n Kim is useless. She’s a drug addict! She was passed out on the couch while Izzy walked out of the house. Is this your life? Is this Izzy’s life?”

  Bailey put her hands over her face and sobbed until they pulled into the driveway.

  “Thank you,” Bailey choked out as she got out of the car.

  “Call him and tell him what’s going on! If you don’t, I will. He has a right to know, he’s her father!” Those were Jack’s final words before he slammed the car door and walked to the tiny carriage house where he hoped he would get some peace and quiet.

  18 FIXING THE WINDOW TO THE SOUL

  Bogie banged on Jeannie McGruder’s door and called out to her until she finally answered. “Hi, Jeannie,” he said as nonchalantly as possible.

  “What the fuck do you want?” she yelled.

  “The guys are here to put in the new window.”

  She stared at him then down the hallway at the source of the cold breeze.

  “Do you have a ladder? They brought one, but need two because of that step down to the basement.”

  Jeannie continued to stare at him.

  Bogie pointed to the basement. “Is there one down there?”

  Jeannie considered this then said, “Yeah.”

  “Can they go through that door?” he asked pointing outside.

  Jeannie studied him again. “No, I don’t know... his key is...go down through my kitchen. Open it from the inside.” Jeannie unlocked a door leading to a dark, dank basement cluttered with junk from two people who hoarded, but never cared for possessions. Making his way through unidentifiable broken objects, he saw a ladder leaning against the back wall. As he started to lift it, he noticed small, capped, metal drums lined up in the corner. Bogie pushed one with his foot and realized they were full. While carrying the ladder out the back door, he wondered what the hell Jeannie or Bud stored in a basement that was obviously rarely used.