The Girl in White Pajamas Page 8

  By the time the window was installed and the ladder returned to its spot, Jeannie had downed most of a pint of Seagram’s 7. She picked up the bottle to offer him some. “No, thanks,” Bogie said. “I’m all set. Do you want to go with them to pick out a casket?” When she shook her head, he added, “They’re doing that today.”

  Jeannie continued to shake her head until she burped. “Let the old lady…she’ll give him noth’n but the best!” Jeannie slurred and coughed.

  “Tomorrow’s the wake. Family time is at noon then a walk through from one to two-thirty.”

  Jeannie’s eyes opened wide. “He didn’t die in the line of duty!” she said clearly.

  Bogie only shrugged then said, “What Herself wants, she gets.”

  Jeannie cackled and chortled. “There are no more’n six guys on the job who even talked to him. Maybe his fuck-buddy Matt will walk through over and over again.” She laughed at her own humor then started to choke.

  “Do you need anything, clothes or—”

  “I can buy my own clothes!” she said. “I don’t need the McGruders to—”

  “I’ll pick you up before.”

  “I can get my own ride. Get the fuck out of here now! I’m in mourning!”

  19 A TALE OF TWO SISTERS

  Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros sang:

  “Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma & Pa

  Not the way I do love you

  Holy Moley, Me-oh-My, you’re the apple of my eye

  Girl, I’ve never loved one like you…”

  The young couple stood naked in front of the enormous picture window looking down at Boston Common, swaying with the music, they smiled as they listened to the group sing and whistle. As the group repeated:

  Let me come Home,

  Home is when I’m alone with you

  Randy and Amanda embraced. His blonde hair and muscular build contrasted well with her long black hair and toned, curvy body. They made love on the thickly carpeted floor without regard for neighbors or onlookers. The couple was, after all, twenty-four floors above the city in Rose’s Tremont on the Common condo.

  Returning to the bedroom, they made love again. Temporarily sated, Randy said, “Maybe someday we’ll own a place like this.”

  Amanda laughed. “Yeah, when we’ve get an extra million, we can buy one just like it.”

  “I never knew Rose was rich,” Randy said.

  “She says she’s not rich, just comfortable. Besides she works hard. Sometimes she works seven days a week and still has to go out and meet new prospective clients.”

  Randy considered this. “Since she’s doing all that and your father’s her partner, doesn’t she mind?”

  Amanda shook her head. “Dad’s not exactly a people person.” After Randy smiled, she continued, “He actually writes all their reports and does some stuff with the computer that Rose doesn’t know how to do. He also does their bookkeeping and accounting.”

  “When?” Randy asked confused.

  “In the evenings. What did you think he does on the computer, play games?”

  Randy shrugged. “I never thought about it.” Randy held her tight. “I’d like to stay here all day,” he said as he ran his hand over her breasts.

  “Me, too, but we should get out of here and go somewhere, maybe walk down to Quincy Market and get something to eat. Then if anyone asks you what you saw in Boston you can tell them you saw something besides my vagigi.”

  Randy laughed. “But I like your vagigi.”

  Amanda smiled. “But it’s not one of the sites listed on the Freedom Trail.”

  *****

  While Rose drove her to the family attorney’s office, Ann said, “I don’t understand what’s going on. Mother and Bud were yelling at each other the night before he died. He kept saying something about fifty thousand dollars and Mother argued with him and told him she wasn’t made of money. After Bud died, Matt came over and told Mother he needed a check for sixty thousand dollars for Christopher’s tuition to Brown University. Chris dropped out of UMass two years ago. I don’t know what Bud and Matt were doing, but I know it had nothing to do with Christopher’s education.”

  *****

  Ann sat in front of the lawyer’s desk and spoke of her mother’s decline. John Stapleton moved his fingers through his perfectly coiffed silver hair and said, “Ann, I told you to do this last year. No judge is going to question your taking over your mother’s affairs. Everything is documented.”

  Ann’s eyes filled with tears as she said, “There’s one more thing you can add to the list. She wrote a check to Matt MacDonald for sixty thousand dollars.”

  “For what?” the attorney demanded.

  “For his son’s tuition to a school he’s not attending.”

  John Stapleton held his head in both hands. “Do you want me to stop payment on the check?”

  Ann shook her head. “If we do that now, Matt will make sure she finds out before the funeral. This could be the one thing that sends her over the edge.”

  Believing Elizabeth McGruder went over the edge long before that, John Stapleton just nodded. “We should be able to get a hearing by Friday. What will you do with her after that?”

  “My brother wants us to stay at his place in Florida.”

  The older man looked at Ann questioningly. “I didn’t know you had another brother.”

  Ann nodded. “Bogie’s my half-brother. He lives in Florida now.”

  “Strange, your mother never mentioned him.”

  “She wouldn’t,” Ann replied. “He’s not her son, and she can’t stand him.”

  “And now you’re going to take her there?”

  “It’s an apartment complex with a large pool. We’ll stay in one of the apartments and give Mother a chance to calm down before any final decisions are made.”

  “And this brother is okay with your plan?” Stapleton asked.

  “It was his idea,” Ann offered.

  Studying her, John Stapleton asked, “Do you think he’s doing this to influence your financial decisions?”

  Ann looked at Stapleton and laughed for the first time in a long time. “Bogie already got property that my mother gifted to our father. He wants nothing more to do with her money.”

  *****

  The stunning redhead wore a black Dolce & Gabbana pantsuit and white lace blouse. She walked into the glass-walled conference room carrying a stack of manila folders. Nine people sat at the large conference table. Men and women, young and old were all dressed in flashy, expensive clothing. The black-haired young men wore thick gold chains around their necks to accentuate their black Prada and Versace clothes. The older men with gray hair sported even more chains. Their aim was to distract from their big bellies covered with Burberry and Polo Ralph Lauren sweaters. Most of the younger women had bleached blonde hair that carried the orange hue of dark hair. The older women had their gray hair dyed jet black. All the women were heavily made up and bejeweled with eighteen and twenty-two karat necklaces, earrings, bracelets and rings. They, too, preferred the blacks of Prada and Versace. But the tight, ill-fitting clothes looked like they came from the clearance rack at Building 19, the warehouse-style discount store. A one-year-old child with dark hair was on the floor strapped in a portable car seat. All had been injured when one car rear-ended another a half mile from an Armenian church festival. It was raining. One driver skidded into the rear end of the other car. The driver and passengers in the first car and the passengers in the second car all claimed injuries.

  Bailey Hampfield nodded to the people in the room and then sat at the head of the black marble table. Without opening the files she said, “We have some serious problems.” As they stared at her, she continued, “The insurance company is questioning how you sustained similar injuries and were all treated by the same chiropractor.” As they started to protest, she put up her hand. “Please let
me finish! One issue here is that each of you has racked up about three thousand dollars in chiropractic bills for an accident where the combined damage to both vehicles is approximately five hundred dollars. Above all, the insurance company is filing a complaint against the chiropractor for treating a small baby.”

  As murmurs started in the room, Bailey continued, “The Insurance Register showed that everyone, except the baby, has been in three motor vehicle accidents in the past two years, very often with the same passengers in the same cars, and were treated by the same chiropractor.”

  A young man with short black hair spoke up, “So!? We’re family. Of course, we’re always together. We’re not like you Americans!”

  “Kevin!” Bailey said with the sharpness of a knife. “I don’t want a lecture on the Armenian culture. And of all the problems we have with these cases, yours is insurmountable!” After he smirked at her, she said, “The insurance company has copies of pictures you posted on your Facebook wall which show you and your girlfriend sunning in Cancun, Mexico at the time of the accident. Since you obviously weren’t in the car, and all the other passengers said you were, all the claims are being denied.”

  After a few minutes of total silence, the baby started fussing and one of the women said, “So, what are you going to do?”

  Bailey stared at her. “I’m giving up. I’m quitting, and you should probably do the same thing!”

  After angry interchanges in Armenian, the nine people glared at her. Kevin, whose real name was Krikor, said, “We’re going to get a real attorney!”

  Bailey pounded the stack of folders with her fist and said, “Just let me know where to send your files!”

  When they left the office, she picked up all the paperwork and flung it against the wall that was lined floor to ceiling with law books. “I went to law school for this shit?”

  ****

  As Bailey and her twin brother Jack traveled on the Mass Turnpike on their way back to Weston, he glanced over at her then said, “I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I know it’s tough for you. I only wish we hadn’t—”

  Bailey cut him off. “It’s over! I don’t want to talk about it! Did George take care of those things?”

  Jack shrugged. “I’ll ask him. I tried to call Bogie but couldn’t reach him. The calls went straight to voicemail. You don’t think he’s here for the funeral do you?”

  Bailey shrugged. “Bogie couldn’t stand Bud. Why would he come to his funeral?”

  “If I can’t reach him tonight, I’ll call Rose or Darryl. They’ll know where to find him.”

  After Jack pulled up in front of the carriage house, Bailey got out and said, “Night, Jack!” as she walked toward her basement door.

  “Good night, Bailey,” Jack called out as he opened the door to his small house at the end of the driveway. A dark sedan that had followed them from Boston continued down the road.

  Bailey’s face lit up as she came up the cellar stairs and found a smiling Isabella. She was wearing blue jeans and a Suffolk Law sweatshirt. Bailey grabbed the little girl, picked her up and hugged her. “I love you soooooo much!” she said.

  “Me, too, Mommy,” Isabella said. “That’s because I’m so beautiful!”

  After Bailey, Isabella and Kim ate hot dogs and chips for dinner, Bailey pointed to her watch. “Bath time, then I’ll be up to read you a story.”

  Kim and Isabella started up the stairs with Isabella chattering about her books and which one she would choose tonight. Bailey walked into the dining room through the wide opening into the living room. Suddenly, there was a loud blast. The living room window exploded and the back window in the dining room disintegrated. Particles of glass covered the two rooms as Bailey dived down yelling for Kim to get Isabella upstairs. The small child stood screaming in the middle of the steps holding her hands over her ears.

  20 THE MAN IN THE NEW SUIT

  A black Escalade pulled up to the curb on Tremont Street about fifty feet away from the corner of Park Street. Retail businesses were located on the first floor of most buildings and the top floors were rented out for office space. But one of those buildings had a metal framed glass door and a metal plaque attached to the outside wall reading Nine Zero. Bogie walked through the glass door, opened the Escalade’s door and got in.

  Rose smiled as she looked over his new navy blue suit. She pointed to the floor near his feet. “Your phone’s all charged, and you look like a human being for a change.”

  “I felt like a human being before I dropped as much money on a suit as I paid for a leather couch. Then the fuck’n shirt and tie and shoes and stuff I’ll probably never wear again.”

  Rose laughed then said, “Did you get hold of Carlos?”

  Bogie nodded. “I ripped him a new asshole! We’ve worked like dogs for over three years to get the place going and turn it into something nice, and then he doesn’t answer the fuck’n phone in the rental office. I guess he and Margarita had another dispute over his catting around, and she tossed his clothes over the balcony into the swimming pool. His cellphone was in his pants pocket. I don’t know why she puts up with his shit!”

  Rose put her right arm out in front of Bogie and pushed her hand down in a gesture that reminded Bogie to calm down. “Did you go for your run today?”

  He nodded. “I made it to Mass Ave and back.”

  “How was the hotel?” she asked.

  “Pretty good…pretty good! It’s interesting how they turned that building into hotel rooms. At least the rooms are nice and big.”

  “Let’s call the Boston Globe! A Bogie McGruder five-star rating for something, anything! That reminds me, did you see the ‘Officer Bud’ headline and picture in the Globe? Bud finally made the front page!”

  Bogie studied her. “Does anybody read newspapers anymore? I saw all that crap online. What’s the story on the lovebirds? Shock me and tell me he stayed over with her!”

  Rose laughed. “I don’t remember ever being that horny. They’re supposed to meet us at the house at twelve-thirty to go to the funeral home.”

  “Why’d you get stuck going?” Bogie asked.

  “Ann asked me to come, she’s very fragile.”

  Bogie studied Rose then said, “That’s where Mandie gets that stupid expression ‘being fragile’. It’s bullshit! Ann better toughen up and lay off the sauce. She’s the same age as you and looks like she’s a hundred years old. Maybe it’s time for her to come out of that closet and start living.”

  “And you think I should tell her this?” Rose asked.

  Bogie shook his head. “I already did…last night! Now she’s pissed at me.”

  “How could that be? You just go around spreading your gems of wisdom and people get annoyed with you. There’s something wrong here!”

  “I know!” Bogie said as they pulled up to the curb near the McGruder brownstone.

  “Do you think we should use this vehicle to go to the mortuary?” Rose asked.

  Bogie shook his head. “There are six of us and you don’t need to be chauffeuring everybody around. Besides, I think it would be tough for Ann or Herself to get into this thing. No! Have Ann call the funeral home. They can send over a limo.”

  “What about Jeannie?”

  “She said she has her own ride,” Bogie answered. When Rose raised her eyebrow, he added, “Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.”

  “Thank you, Lord Tennyson.”

  21 SEND IN THE CLOWNS

  Elizabeth McGruder clung to Bogie’s bent arm as they walked into the funeral home on Commonwealth Avenue. She wouldn’t have touched him except her walking stick was back at the house and her legs wouldn’t move. Rose held Annie’s hand tightly as they followed through the reception area with the strong smell of lilies. Amanda and Randy walked side by side with Amanda wearing a new black silk Burberry shirtwaist dress and Jimmy Choo black patent wedges that made her as tall as Randy. Ra
ndy whispered to her, “Is this where?”

  She nodded remembering the wake for her grandfather, Baxter McGruder, Olga McGruder, and baby Barbara, who had all been killed in the same car accident. But that couldn’t hold a candle to the horror of seeing her six-year old cousin Jennifer displayed in a coffin after her mother had shot her..

  They entered the large viewing room with the closed mahogany coffin surrounded by more than fifty floral arrangements mixing the fragrances of lilies and gladiolas to form the nauseatingly sweet funeral home smell. Elizabeth McGruder squeezed Bogie’s arm. “I want it open.”

  Without looking at her he said firmly, “That’s not going to happen.”

  Although a sob escaped from her throat, she held her head up and walked toward the coffin that displayed a large framed picture of a smiling Bud McGruder in dress uniform. She knelt down at the prie dieu and cried softly with her hand on the coffin. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Bud! I never meant…”

  As her sobbing continued, Bogie remembered coming into this same chapel four and half years earlier wearing dark glasses to hide two black eyes. The bruise on his cheek and cut on his lip weren’t as easy to conceal. The sight of Baxter and Olga painted up and displayed only a few feet apart made him light-headed. But it was the small, closed white coffin that tore at his heart.

  Bogie studied the picture of Bud and had to force himself not to smile. Bud had been a handsome guy but probably would have been more so if not for that slight bump at the bridge of his nose. The bump was the result of a broken nose that hadn’t healed quite right. Bogie remembered how he enjoyed every second of beating the crap out of Bud and breaking his nose in the process. That had happened a few weeks after Bogie, the ‘throw away kid’, had been tossed in his father’s direction after his mother died. He understood fully that Baxter and Elizabeth McGruder didn’t want him in their lives. He didn’t particularly want them in his either. But it was that over-fed, arrogant snot Bud who walked around sneering at Bogie like he was shit on Bud’s shoe. Bogie was older and taller than Bud, but Bud probably outweighed him by fifteen pounds. Bogie’s hair had gotten darker over the years, but not as dark as Bud’s hair which was almost black. Bogie’s clothes were close to rags, but he had enough pride and street smarts to promise himself that he would kick the shit out of Bud the first chance he got. He did, and the old man beat Bogie in turn. He still believed it was worth it. Every time Bud looked at him, Bogie touched his finger to his nose to remind Bud he could easily have another broken nose.