The Girl in White Pajamas (23 page)

Bogie held the cell phone away from his ear, his face tight with anger as he listened to Amanda ranting. “She has a hell of a nerve even thinking about coming to my home. It’s
my
birthday and
my
graduation! Why doesn’t she just stay there with her kid?”

After taking a deep breathe, Bogie said, “First of all, it’s my house, Princess. If it’s so upsetting to have Bailey and your little sister there, I’ll stay here and Rose can come down alone.”

“But you promised you’d come.”

“And I will come, but not if you’re going to act like you have been lately! I’ve got a three-year old here who is behaving more mature than you are right now.”

Amanda started crying. “I knew this would happen. You’d hook up with her again and not care about—”

“Chill out! You really sound like a child now! You keep telling me how grown up you are, act like it! Just let me know either way.”

After a long silence, she said, “Let her come, I don’t care!”

“You know, Mandie, there was a time when you thought she was the greatest thing since peanut butter and jelly.”

“That’s when I was a stupid kid and she was my babysitter, not your
mistress
.”

“Mistress. No, she was never that! When she was much older than you are, she was my lover, never my mistress.”

“Whatever!”

“So are we all set?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

She hung up.

It was two o’clock in the morning when Bogie gently disentangled himself from Bailey as she lay asleep. He slid off the bed, grabbed his pants, cell phone and sneakers and moved quietly toward the bathroom. He got dressed then called Jesus and told him he was on his way down the stairs.

Jesus stared as Bogie quietly moved down the back stairs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m paying a social call on our neighbors,” Bogie said as he gestured toward the carriage house.

“You sure they’re not going to shoot you before you knock on their door? Remember, you gave Jack that gun.”

“Good thinking!” Bogie punched a number into his phone and quietly said, “Jack, this is Bogie. I’m coming over. Unlock your door…Yes, I know what time it is!” As he ended the call, Bogie muttered to himself, “You’ve got the watch, I’ve got the time.”

It was eight o’clock that morning when Jack and George walked out of their front door. They smiled as Isabella ran toward them. Bailey and Bogie walked behind her. Isabella and Bailey seemed rested and refreshed. The men looked tired.

Bogie, Jack and Jesus each lifted a suitcase and tossed it into the back of the Escalade. After hugs and goodbyes were exchanged, Jack and George left for the office. Jesus drove the Escalade with Bogie beside him. Bailey and Isabella sat in the back waving to Kim who looked more tired than anyone else.

Fifteen minutes after the Escalade drove away, a dark sedan moved slowly past the house, turned around and came back. The car moved down the driveway and stopped in front of the carriage house. Matt MacDonald opened the driver’s door as Kim came out the cellar door to greet him. “Where was he digging?” Matt asked in greeting her.

Kim pointed to the side of the carriage house. “Somewhere back there. I don’t know for sure.”

Matt walked around to the back of the small building. When he came to an area that looked like it had fresh vegetation and twigs strewn over it, he asked, “Where’s the shovel?”

Kim pointed to the basement door.

“Go get the fuck’n thing rather than standing there looking stupid!” Matt yelled as he removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

By the time Matt was able to unearth the buried treasure, his white shirt was stained with perspiration and soil. He opened the black trash bag. “Fuck!”

Kim walked over, looked in and then gasped.

With her eyes and jaw frozen open for all eternity, Fluffy’s rigid body hit the ground with a small thump as Matt MacDonald angrily dumped the contents of the black garbage bag onto the ground. “You wasted my time with this shit!?” he asked enraged.

“No, that’s not right. The cat is buried over there!” Kim said in a trembling voice as she pointed to the spot where the tulips were planted.

Without another word, Matt stomped over to Fluffy’s other grave and started digging. Ten minutes of digging destroyed the tulips and produced nothing. Matt turned to her still leaning on the shovel. “You’re fuck’n useless!” he yelled. “You’re good for
nothing
! I’m not giving you any more shit!”

“You promised!” she said growing anxious.

“Fuck you! You’re cut off!” Matt said as he started to turn away.

Desperate, Kim ran to him and started clawing at the side of his face.

Stunned, Matt pushed her away then tightened his grip on the shovel and swung it like a bat at the side of her head. The second he heard the cracking sound, Matt knew it was not a high fly ball into center field. It was Kim’s skull—he’d smashed it.

He looked at the crumpled body and yellowed unseeing eyes then quickly checked around. As the realization of what he’d done washed over him, Matt’s only concern was covering his ass. He wanted to make sure he left no trace of evidence behind. Matt returned to the sedan and popped open the trunk. He removed two plaid stadium blankets that he and his wife used when they watched their youngest son play football. Matt laid the blankets out on the grass side by side then rolled Kim’s body into them like a stuffed cabbage. Matt cursed as he carried the small corpse to the car while body fluids leaked onto him. Matt dropped her into the trunk then returned to the yard to clean up. Skipping the black garbage bag, he buried Fluffy once again. The bag was going with him. Matt arranged the twigs and vegetation as well as he remembered them. After replanting the tulips in no particular order, he walked to his wife’s car. As he was about to toss the shovel in the trunk, he looked up to see a gray Toyota Forerunner stopped across the driveway with the driver looking directly at him. The driver beeped twice and drove away.

Isabella entertained everyone in the long security line at Logan Airport by doing kicks against imaginary opponents as she twirled around. She added some back flips and front rolls to her repertoire understanding the necessity for keeping her act fresh. Isabella had been wearing her white karate costume every day and taken any opportunity to remove her sneakers and walk barefoot. She believed she looked more authentic that way. The outfit was only removed at bedtime and rushed downstairs to the washer and dryer to get ready for another day of Isabella-style kick boxing.

Isabella sat between her parents on the plane complaining that the seat belt was too tight, she couldn’t see out the window and couldn’t see the flight attendant showing them what to do in case of an emergency. “I’m thirsty. I never finished my juice box or my Cocoa Puffs.” Thankfully, she was asleep before the plane reached twenty thousand feet. Bogie and Bailey looked at the sleeping angel, sighed and smiled.

As the little family disembarked with Isabella perched in Bogie’s arm, Randy and John Carpenter in full uniform stood at the gate to greet them. Amanda was between the two of them. Bogie walked quickly to Amanda and hugged her with his other arm. “Hi, Princess. Is this one of the perks for being the future wife of Deputy Carpenter?”

She nodded and smiled.

Bailey walked to her and stretched out her hand. “Hello, Amanda. How are you?”

After a pause, Amanda said, “I’m fine. Thanks,” and ignored the proffered hand.

Isabella pushed down from her father’s arms and stood in front of Amanda. She lifted her arms and grabbed Amanda by the neck and kissed her cheek. “Thank you so much for all the wonderful books!”

Flushed with embarrassment, Amanda hugged her little sister and whispered, “You’re welcome.” In a normal voice she added, “What an interesting outfit!”

Bogie’s eyes rolled as Isabella displayed her moves in the Palm Beach International Airport for everyone’s entertainment.

John and Randy shook Bogie’s hand and John laughed. “She’s a little pistol! She looks just like her mamma.” John made no mention of his thwarted attempt to tase Bogie or the cracked jaw he received for his troubles.

Bogie nodded and turned to Randy. “Thanks for looking after my family. Have you changed your mind yet about joining up with this clan?”

“No, sir.” The young man beamed.

When they arrived at the apartment complex, Ann stood at the glass front door looking out while Elizabeth McGruder waited in the lobby in a portable black wheelchair. Margarita stood next to the wheelchair, holding Elizabeth’s hand knowing the influx of too many people would disturb her.

Bogie was stunned when he looked at Ann. His sister was back! Ann, the old woman was gone. She had been replaced by an attractive woman with golden brown hair, a tan and a broad smile. He didn’t remember her ever seeing her looking this radiant. Bogie went to her and hugged her. Bailey stepped into the reception and told Ann how great she looked. Isabella joined the little circle and hugged Ann. “Did you miss me, Aunt Annie?”

“Yes, I did,” Ann answered laughing.

Isabella nodded and walked to her grandmother. “Hello, Grandma, did you miss me?”

Elizabeth held the little girl’s hand and nodded as she started to cry. “Very, very much,” she almost whispered. Isabella patted her hand. “Don’t cry, Grandma, I’m here now.”

Elizabeth looked up at Margarita. “Margaret! Why is this beautiful child wearing pajamas instead of a lovely organza dress and bows?” Margarita was speechless, so Bailey tried to explain Isabella’s fascination with martial arts. The whole explanation went right over the old lady’s head.

Carlos came in the back door carrying large brown bags. He bumped fists with Bogie before taking the bags over to a long table that he and Margarita had set up under the flat screen TV. A dark-haired girl dressed in a white cotton blouse and black trousers walked nervously into the reception area with her head bowed. She appeared to be no more than fifteen years old, but walked directly to the table and started placing the food from the containers in large bowls with the expertise of someone accustomed to handling food.

Bogie’s eyes lit up as he looked over his favorite lunch: dill chicken salad, fresh bread and Caesar’s salad from Too Jay’s.

After they ate, Bogie was introduced to Yazmin Flores, who was being trained by Margarita and happened to be a second cousin to Carlos. Bogie wondered if every Latino in Southern Florida was somehow related to Carlos. Bogie held Bailey’s hand while he sipped sparkling mineral water, and the group was entertained by Isabella telling them the story of a wonderful mouse named Stuart Little.

Bogie held up Bailey’s hand and motioned with his head toward John Carpenter. “She’s a redneck, just like you, John.”

“If I told you once, I told you a thousand times, I’m originally from Dayton, Ohio. He turned to Bailey. “And what redneck territory do you come from?”

“First Nashville, Tennessee then Sutton, West Virginia.”

“West Virginia! That’s solid hillbilly country. How long since you’ve been back?”

“Three years,” Bailey answered hesitantly.

Bogie and John glanced at each other before John asked, “Your folks live there?”

“No, they passed away when I was a teenager, but I have some relatives there.”

Bogie chimed in. “Tell him your father’s name.”

“Hank Hampfield.”

“No! Randy, did you know Bailey’s Hank Hampfield’s daughter?”

Randy looked up from the overstuffed chair where he and Amanda were squeezed together. He beamed. “I have some of his music. Wow!” When Amanda tried to get out of the chair, Randy gingerly held her in place.

Bailey started to speak to Ann and Elizabeth McGruder in a feeble attempt to reclaim her child. John turned to Bogie. “No Rose? She’s not coming?”

Bogie laughed. “You old dog! That’s why you came to the airport! She’s flying in tomorrow morning.”

John grinned.

When Dolores walked through the front door of the reception area, Bogie felt uncomfortable. He believed it was tough for Dolores to come over and pretend she was happy to meet Bogie’s new family. He walked to her and hugged her. “Thanks for all your kindness to my family.”

Her brown eyes lit up. “My pleasure. After all, we’re going to be family.” She pointed to Randy and Amanda squeezed in the chair. “So where’s the little?” She looked down to see the small redhead looking up at her quizzically.

The little girl extended her hand. “I’m Isabella. Who are you?”

“I’m Dolores. I’m pleased to meet you, Isabella.”

“Do you know Mandie and Randy?” Isabella asked.

Dolores nodded.

“Do you know Grandma and Aunt Annie?”

“Yes, I do. Ann and I are good friends.” Dolores glanced over at Ann smiling, and Ann beamed. Dolores studied Bogie. “She’s got your eyes. Did you choose the outfit?”

On hearing those words, Isabella said, “Watch this!” She started with some of her twirling kicks, rolled, came up twice and finished with three back flips. Then she threw up her lunch.

Rose Jones sat in her office going through the emails that had been piling up. She looked at one she knew was from Bogie because it had no IPO. There were only two people who sent her emails like that, one was her Uncle Walter and the other was Bogie. Walter was in prison and not allowed near a computer so, like Sherlock Holmes, she eliminated the impossible and came up with the answer, no matter how improbable. She opened the email and studied the pictures embedded in it.

“You’re an asshole, Bogie! A real asshole!” she said to the empty room.

Bogie sat at his desk looking across at Amanda. “To say that I’m disappointed in you is an understatement. After she twisted her mouth, he asked, “What? I’m not allowed to tell you the truth?”

She shrugged. “I do the best I can,” she said by rote.

Bogie studied her then said, “No, you don’t. You never did. What you could have done or would have done is history. You are what you are, and you’ll live with it, I won’t. First off, the letter Bailey sent me a year ago. You had absolutely no right to keep it from me. If I did something like that to you, you’d still be doing backflips; and I’d be listening to your shit about invading your privacy. When did it become okay for you to invade mine?” he asked angrily.

“After what she did?”

“To whom? To you?”

“Yes, she asked
me
to give you that fuck’n letter, the one that caused you to have a heart attack. That’s what she did to
me
!” Tears filled Amanda’s eyes, and Bogie ignored them.

“She did something stupid four years ago, so you decided you would be the judge of what kind of mail I received three years later. I remember having a heart attack not being brain dead a year ago.”

“She had no right,” Amanda said softly.

“
You
had no right!” Bogie shouted. “It was not your place to censor my mail. You will
never
pull another stunt like that again,
ever
!”

“Is that all?” Amanda asked angrily.

“Absolutely not!” Bogie shouted. “Next on the agenda is James. He’s almost eighty years old and you had him carry those boxes of books down to the post office. What the fuck’s the matter with you? If he had a heart attack and died, how would you feel? Do you think you’re entitled to his services, like he’s your servant?”

Amanda shook her head and wiped a tear off her cheek.

“And those books! You just proved the Law of Unintended Consequences! I know you sent those books to hurt Bailey or piss her off, but what you didn’t understand is that Isabella loves books and now thinks you’re ‘
Wonderful’.
She has no idea you were just being a bitch!”

Amanda glared at her father.

“And my
sister
! You’re eighteen years old, and you talked to her like she was one of your girlfriends! Excuse me, you wouldn’t talk to your friends like that!” When Amanda opened her mouth, Bogie held up his hand. “I understand you apologized, so I’m not going to beat a dead horse. Which leads me to another horse! How’d you get the answers to the tests at the Benjamin?”

Amanda twisted her mouth then stared at her father. “Do you think I slept with somebody to get them?”

Bogie shook his head.

“Why?”

He shrugged and answered, “Because you didn’t have sex when you were fourteen years old.”

“And you know this how?”

“Fathers know these things,” Bogie said without expression.

“Especially if they read their daughter’s private emails and text messages.”

“Especially,” Bogie repeated.

Amanda sighed. “It doesn’t really matter, I already told Randy. There was this part-time janitor or custodian or whatever they called him. He was creepy. Once when Zoe was taking a shower, she saw this eyeball in the wall. We checked it out and found out he had a peep hole from the janitor’s closet into the girls’ showers. He carried around keys to all the offices on a keychain attached to his belt loop. A week or so after we found his peep hole, Zoe heard him jingling on the other side of the wall. Zoe called him out and told him she heard his keys jangling while she was taking a shower. She started calling him ‘Bojangles’. He really had a thing for Zoe. We knew he was still creeping on her but leaving the keys in his office when he went to the closet so she wouldn’t hear him. We set him up pretending that Zoe and Tiff played tennis and were going into the showers. When he left his office, I went in and got the keys. I went in the front office, where all the exams were kept, got the exams and answer codes and photocopied them.”

“How’d you ever think to do that?” Bogie asked.

“How?” Amanda repeated. “Do you know how many years I did my homework at R&B and listened to you and the guys scheming how to get things?”

The side of Bogie’s mouth twitched. “It’s heartening to know you’ve learned something over all these years. I’m just sorry that you let everybody think your friend prostituted herself to get the answers.”

“That was her idea. She wanted everybody to think she was a badass.”

“Paul Gallagher and I were ready to—”

“I know!” Amanda said. “Two commandos ready to jump in and rip some teacher’s balls off!”

“You think that’s funny?” Bogie asked.

“At the time, I did, we all did. I got two good friends out of the deal. I was happy.”

“They probably would have been your friends anyway,” Bogie said.

Amanda shrugged. “You know, at that time, I didn’t think anybody wanted to be my friend.”

“Why?”

“I was still feeling bad about Grandpa and Olga and the baby.”

“I’ve told you over and over again, that wasn’t your fault!”

“If I hadn’t told you that he slapped me—”

“No!” Bogie yelled. “Stop that shit! It wasn’t you! It was me! I was the one who started it. I was the one who finished it!”

“If I hadn’t—”

“Listen!” Bogie interrupted. “Two nights before I started that surveillance, Olga was alone in the room with the baby. He had probably already come and gone. Anyway, the baby started crying and wouldn’t stop. Olga was passed out drunk, and the baby kept crying. That was the only time I ever went in that room. Barbara’s diaper was full. I cleaned her up and gave her a bottle, and that fuck’n Olga was still lying there snoring. When the baby fell asleep, I took that shitty diaper, opened it up and threw it at Olga’s face.”

Amanda stared at him then started laughing. “Why?”

“I was sick of her, I was sick of him, and I couldn’t stand the way she cared for the baby. She made my mother and your mother look like June Cleaver.”

“Who?”

“The perfect mother, she was before your time. Anyway, I’m sure Olga told the old man what happened so he was just looking for an excuse to do battle and defend the honor of that cow. He knew you were my weakest spot. He knew that if he ever touched you, I’d kill him and that’s what he did.”

“You should have told me this a long time ago.”

Bogie studied her. “Yes, I should have. I was too busy living in denial over how much damage had been done to you in that house. I probably should have sent you to a shrink or something.”

“What?!” Amanda screeched. “You think I’m crazy?”

“No!” Bogie said quickly. “It probably wouldn’t have hurt for you to have somebody to help you sort things out.”

“I had you,” she said softly.

“Yeah, I’ve been great! Still living by the old ‘sort’ theory: ‘Kill ‘em all and let God sort ‘em out’.”

“You were a good dad. I always felt safe with you.”

Bogie nodded. “I heard you took a shower with John Carpenter.”

Amanda covered her face. “That was so gross!”

“If only I had the video,” Bogie said wistfully. “We could have uploaded it onto YouTube.”

After Bogie discharged his daughter, he called out to Margarita and Carlos who were standing outside the office door ready to pounce. Bogie glanced at Carlos and asked, “You have everybody in place?”

“Two guys, three shifts. One in the front, one in the back.”

“Remember to tell them to keep weapons concealed and not to sit in a car out front day and night. It’s not only obvious, they’ll become sitting ducks.”

“I went over this with John,” Carlos said defensively as he pushed back his dark hair with both hands.

“Good. Now we can get down to business. What the hell’s the matter with you two? Your fighting and bickering is effecting everybody. The tenants are complaining. I don’t want to hear any more of your personal shit!”

“Why’d you tell her I was cheating on her?” Carlos asked angrily.

“I didn’t say that!” Bogie said.

Margarita chimed in, “Yes, you did! You said if I thought he was cheating, he was cheating.”

Bogie held his head in exasperation. “I didn’t say Carlos was cheating on you. You’re a smart woman. You can sense if your man is cheating, you don’t need confirmation from me. That’s what I meant. I’ve lived through that shit, I know.”

“You cheated?” Margarita asked.

“No, I was on the receiving end.”

Her name was Madeline. He was an Army sergeant when he met her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She had long, black hair and long legs. He and his buddies were pounding back beers in a Texas honky tonk when she walked over to them. Like a bunch of schoolboys they made asses of themselves vying for her attention. Bogie was chosen.

After dating her for a month, Bogie was sure they were meant for each other and should get married. From the day they said their vows, she complained. His new wife, Madeline, berated him for everything from their cheap housing to his pay check. She said they didn’t go out enough. And, worst of all, he made her pregnant. He was excited, she was angry. The anger carried through the birth of their daughter. That’s when the real fights started. She was a negligent mother. He was too serious, didn’t want to party, just wanted to keep her barefoot and pregnant.

When she started going into town with her girlfriends, it was all over but the shouting. The lies and excuses mounted. Days before his brigade was deploying overseas he found out she was having another affair. This one was with his commanding officer. His only concern at that point was his baby daughter and her safety.

Bogie told Madeline that if she took care of Amanda, he’d give her a divorce when he got back. He’d make sure she got the boob job she wanted so bad and agreed to give her ten thousand dollars. His only condition was that when she left him, Amanda stayed. Madeline agreed but only if he promised he wouldn’t tell a soul that she eagerly gave up her daughter for ten thousand dollars and a boob job.

Being in Germany pre 9/11 was considered a plum tour, but for Bogie the months were torture as he worried about his child. When he got back, he swore he’d never leave Amanda like that again. He didn’t reenlist and they left Texas.

Bogie gave Carlos and Margarita an edited version of Madeline’s story telling how she left when Amanda was two years old. “Although he had jet black hair, Madeline believed she was channeling Marilyn Monroe and that she was destined for Hollywood.”

“Did she make it?” Margarita asked.

Bogie laughed. “Do you know how many beautiful women are out there with the same idea? And some of them have talent outside the bedroom.”

Carlos said, “Wait a minute! I remember when Mandie was sixteen and she went to visit her in Las Vegas. You were a basket case thinking the kid might not come back.”

Bogie nodded. “Yeah she lives there now with her fourth, maybe fifth husband, poor bastard whoever he is.”

“So what’s this got to do with me and Carlos?” Margarita asked.

“Trust. If you don’t trust him, cut him loose and get it over with. If you’re riding a dead horse, dismount. If you have something worth keeping, work on it. What you won’t do is continue this public fighting. I consider you my friends, as much as employees. But I swear if this continues, I’ll throw
you
off the third floor balcony, never mind your pants,” Bogie said pointing to Carlos. Without missing a beat, Bogie moved his focus to Margarita. “I hate to say this, but you look real tired. I realized that I put too much on your head. You can’t be on call for my sister and Herself twenty-four/seven, train the new girl and keep tabs on him without losing your mind. .” Bogie moved his chin to indicate he was talking about Carlos. “A couple of months ago, you said your older sister was looking for night work. Did she find anything?”

Margarita shook her head.

“Why don’t you have her come to the apartment in the early evening and sleep on the couch. She can watch out so Mother McGruder doesn’t wander out the door. That way, you can get a good night’s sleep and keep Carlos in line. That reminds me, why’s she in a wheelchair?”

Margarita smiled. “After we brought her from the airport, she kept asking what happened to her wheelchair. I think she realized how much easier her life was in a wheelchair because her knees hurt a lot. She complains about arthritis. I don’t think the walking stick was doing much good. Now that she’s sober, she’s really feeling the pain. I talked to Ann and we got her one of those wheelchairs that fold up. She walks around the apartment with her stick, but thinks she should have a wheelchair outside.”

Bogie rolled his eyes. “Whatever gets her through the—”

They stared at each other when they heard the screams.

As they raced toward the pool, they saw the little white outfit bobbing. Bailey screamed. Amanda dove into the pool. Amanda grabbed Isabella and swam with her to the side of the pool. Bogie lifted the child out of the water and started mouth to mouth resuscitation. His face was colorless and his hands shook as he performed CPR on the little girl. Finally, water spewed from Isabella and she vomited and cried. He held her close, rocking and comforting her as Bailey sat on the ground next to them sobbing.

Rose, having just arrived from the airport, stood in the doorway of the main building and watched the family drama. She finally put down the small, carry-on suitcase she’d been holding with a death grip. “Thank you, Lord, for not taking this child from him,” she said softly.

“Amen,” John Carpenter said from behind her.