The Girl in White Pajamas (27 page)

As the plane made a bumpy landing, Rose checked around her seat to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind. Dressed in a fitted, bright red Versace suit with a hint of a black camisole top underneath, she was ready to do battle. When she stood up in her black and red Christian Louboutin four-inch sandal heels, other passengers were wondering if she was a movie star. When she positioned her Gucci black sunglasses on her face, everyone was sure she had come to Boston to do a film.

As she came down the jet way, she spotted Matt standing with State cops on either side of him. He was camera ready dressed in his best gray pinstripe suit, but he looked like he had a black eye and maybe some scratches on his face. Rose wondered if he had a cameraman from Channel Seven filming the event. As she strolled into the gate, all eyes were on her. She looked magnificent, and all the men, including the two Staties, gawked at her. The only one who had a rigid look on his face was Matt. He turned to someone in the crowd and made a cutting gesture with his finger across his throat. Matt walked over to her and said, “Where is she?”

“Who?” Rose asked innocently.

He grabbed her upper arm. “You were supposed to bring her back here.”

“I was supposed to do what? When did all this happen?”

“I told you I wanted to talk to her and asked you to get her back here today.”

“I’m not her keeper or your personal assistant. Why the hell should I care when she comes back here?” She stared at his hand around her arm. “Please get your hands off my new suit!”

He looked at her incredulously. “What the hell are you trying to pull? I have a good mind to arrest you for interfering with—”

“Just try it! You’ll get more publicity than you ever dreamed possible.” She glanced around the crowded gate. “There are lots of folks here with camera phones, video cameras.” She pushed his hand off her arm, and walked away.

As she stood by the carousel waiting for her suitcase, Matt stood beside her and mumbled, “I could arrest you.” When she ignored him, he asked, “Why’d you do it? Why’d you turn on me?”

“You don’t give me orders. If you want to ‘question’ her, go for it! It’s got nothing to do with me.”

“Where is she?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Listen, if she’s the one you want to talk to, go ask her all your questions. Don’t bother me!” She grabbed her suitcase off the carousel and turned away. With her back to him she said, “Catie Christenson! That’s a nice Swedish name, isn’t it?” Without waiting for a response she asked, “Did the ‘Cat’ scratch you?” She knew without turning around that his shoulders would slump, and he would get that hang-dog expression before telling her he’d made yet another mistake and played her for a fool again. As she thought of the absurdity of a man cheating on his wife and his mistress to get in the pants of the Channel Seven news anchor, she wanted to cry. Grateful the sunglasses hid her brimming eyes, she walked toward Jesus Hernandez who stood at the glass door.

Jesus grabbed her suitcase and grinned. “You look
hot
! Wow!”

“Thanks,” she said dejectedly. “Let’s get to the office. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

When they arrived at the office on Lincoln Street, Bogie was sitting at the front desk working on his laptop while Isabella, now wearing her karate outfit, showed off for Tommie, Angel and two morning crew guys. Without looking up, Bogie motioned for Angel to come next to him. He handed Angel some bills. “I need either you or Tommie to pick up a few more of those outfits. I’m sick of washing the same one all the time.” Angel gave him a two finger salute. When Bogie finally looked up, he stared at Rose. “You look beautiful! Whose heart are you breaking today?”

Without speaking she walked to her office and slammed the door.

Leaving Isabella with her male admirers, Bogie got up and went to Rose’s office. He knocked on the door and didn’t even wait a second before throwing it open and entering. Bogie sat down in the chair across from her desk. “What happened?”

She just shook her head. After Bogie stared at her for several seconds, she said, “This morning I had two gentlemen admirers. Now I have none.”

“What happened?”

She told him the shortened version of her encounters with John Carpenter and Matt MacDonald.

“So what are you so upset about? You did what you wanted to do. I really don’t understand why you’re so angry.”

“I’m pissed off because of you. It’s
all
your fault!”

His eyes opened wide, and he said, “What!? You’re going to give me more crap about the pictures I emailed to you?”

Rose shook her head.

“Yes, you are. I didn’t write a word, just had the pictures with date stamps.” What Bogie didn’t mention was that all the pictures were snapshots of Matt MacDonald, starting with the one where he was leaving his house with his wife in the morning. The next one showed him entering Charles River Park apartments followed by a time and date stamped snapshot of Matt leaving the complex with his hand on Catie Christenson’s ass. The snapshot taken four hours later was one of Matt entering the lobby of Tremont on the Common where Rose lived. “I’m the one who told you not to play around with MacDonald. Didn’t I tell you he was looking for a publicity shot--trying his case in the court of public opinion? Why’d you confront him, Rose?”

She shook her head. “That’s not it. It’s you! I watched you with her for the past week. You’ve always had a thing for her, an obsession. That woman could shit all over you, and you’d wipe it off and say ‘don’t do it again’.” When Bogie started to protest, she held up her hand and continued, “I’m not saying it’s such a bad thing. I’m saying I envy that. You’d take a bullet for her, and I had two guys who would barely give me the time of day. One cared more about other people’s opinion than my feelings, and the other was so much in love with himself he couldn’t love anybody else. I want somebody to love me unconditionally!”

“Rose Girl, you’re beginning to sound like one of those broads in a chick flick.”

She laughed. “How would you know if you never watched them?”

“Trust me, I watched too many of them. Don’t forget I have an eighteen year old daughter. “ He glanced at his watch. “I still haven’t heard anything from Bailey or Merberg. I don’t want to call her. I told her to call me. I don’t want to take Isabella back to that house if Bailey’s not coming home tonight. It will be too traumatic for her. She’s already hit three out of five on the trauma scale.”

Rose stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I have this theory that kids have about five traumatic events they never forget.”

“And Isabella’s are?”

“Her cat hanging from a tree, that was pretty traumatic for her.” When Rose nodded, he continued, “Seeing or hearing her mother getting slapped around by Bud.”

“How do you know that was so traumatic?”

“Because she never talks about it. I think she tries to block it out. She’s not exactly a quiet kid, but I think she’s also insecure and believes if I knew there was a guy in the picture before me, I might take off.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one. What’s the third, almost drowning?”

Bogie nodded. “That day she couldn’t stop talking about how Mandie rescued her and how scared she was when she was swallowing water, but then she never wanted to talk about it again.”

“Yeah, but at least she didn’t go near the pool alone after that.”

“I’ll have to get her swimming lessons if she’s going to live in Florida.”

“Stop! Slow down! Take it one step at a time! Just go slow and easy. She comes attached to a momma who has a history of taking off when she feels cornered or threatened. Just be careful!”

Bogie’s cell phone vibrated and he answered it immediately. “Yes? I’m at the office. Sure, have him drop you off here.” When he put down the phone, he said, “Merberg’s going to drop her off here in about fifteen minutes.” After thinking for a moment, he said, “I’m going to make reservations at a hotel. No sense going to Weston tonight. For what security will cost, we could stay at the Four Seasons. That’s what I’ll do!”

“Slow down, Boy,” Rose said and laughed.

When they entered the lobby, Bogie winked at Bailey and she smiled. Isabella held her mother’s hand until one of the staff members commented on her white outfit. Isabella immediately went into her strike pose and showed off her kicks. She started in a run, turned into a dive, then suddenly tucked her body into a roll. Bailey looked at Bogie and raised an eyebrow.

The corner of his mouth twitched before Bogie said, “I think it’s called a watch-me-I’m-showing-off-triple.”

Bailey laughed as Bogie took her hand and motioned for Isabella to follow them up the wide staircase to the second level dining area. The Aujourd’hui, once the most elegant restaurant in Boston, was gone. Only the ghost of the restaurant remained in the form of a function room. “I wanted to bring you here for your birthday, but Rose told me they closed it.”

Bailey blushed. “I thought you forgot about that. It was a long time ago.”

Bogie smiled as he remembered that dinner. Bailey was so enraged when he told her he had married Olga that she punched him in the mouth and didn’t speak to him for almost a year. But then she invited him to her Suffolk Law School graduation. He would have gone anyway because Jack invited him. Jack, at least, was grateful for everything Bogie had done for him and his sister including getting the condo in Allston where they lived through college and law school. Jack also expressed more gratitude for Bogie co-signing their loans when their Uncle Stanley died during their second year of law school.

Bailey was the angry one. She was upset when Bogie rejected her seduction attempts after her high school graduation. He told Bailey she was just a kid, and he was too old for her. Bailey was furious when he rebuffed her advances after her college graduation telling her she was too young for him.

Bogie wanted to get Bailey a law school graduation present but wasn’t sure what to get an angry young lady. Bogie bought Bailey a card and wrote a note inside telling her he’d take her out for a night on the town to celebrate her graduation. Bogie was thinking of fast food and bar hopping.

When Bailey called him, she said she’d made reservations for that Thursday evening and told him about the Four Seasons Hotel and the restaurant. Bogie’s only question was, “Do I have to wear a suit?” He groaned when she told him he did.

He met her in the lobby and they walked up the wide carpeted staircase to the Aujourd’hui. An army of wait staff served them while classical music played. They sat on heavily upholstered chairs and were served on fine china with crystal goblets for their wine. Bailey was quite taken with the restaurant. Bogie smiled thinking it was pretentious. After desert, she excused herself to go the ladies’ room but didn’t return. Ten minutes passed before their waiter came to the table asking if there was anything else Bogie would like. When Bogie told him he only wanted the check and his dinner guest, the waiter told him the lady had taken care of the check and left an envelope for him.

Bailey wrote a note to him on heavy bond stationary telling him she had waited years for him and he had rejected her twice. Using the baseball analogy of three strikes and you’re out, she told him she had placed a key card in the envelope. She was waiting for him upstairs in the room. If he didn’t show up, she would know he didn’t love her as she loved him and she would never speak to him again. She didn’t care if he was married, she found him first, and he was really hers.

Bogie left the Four Seasons and called Rose. He didn’t want to leave Amanda alone in the house with Olga who found any excuse to pick on the kid. After making those arrangements, he walked to the nearest CVS. With his pockets full and a spring in his step he returned to the hotel.

His hands shook as he inserted the key card, but once the door opened, and he looked at Bailey standing there wearing nothing but the Jimmy Choo shoes she called her ‘hooker heels’, he was a goner.

And now they were back in a similar room with their little daughter who was enjoying diving from one end of the king-sized bed to the other. When Isabella reached the edge of the bed, she tucked and rolled across it. After a while, she made up new moves. Bailey ran a bubble bath for her while Bogie ordered room service. Isabella was asleep on the couch before the meal was finished.

They lowered the lights in that area and finished their dinner listening to Michael Bublé. Bogie pushed the cart out into the hallway and walked back to Bailey holding open his arms. They danced in place since they were getting good at it. Bailey ran her hand down his back. “I don’t have my hooker heels with me.”

“That’s okay, we’ll improvise,” he whispered as he pulled her closer.

Bogie opened an eye when he heard shouting a few feet away. He watched Isabella sitting in a corner of the sofa with the remote control in her hand staring at the guests on the Jerry Springer Show as they cursed and tried to grab one another’s hair. Isabella ignored Bogie when he called her name. He put his index and pinkie fingers in his mouth and whistled. Isabella continued to ignore him. Wrapping the tangled sheet around his middle, Bogie got out of bed, took the remote control out of her hand, put on the Disney Channel then returned to bed where he lay next to Bailey and put his arm over her while holding the remote control.

Bailey buried her head in the pillow laughing.

“That’s not funny, Da-dee!”

Bogie ignored her.

“Maybe I don’t want to watch Winnie the Poop!”

Bogie continued to ignore her.

“Da-dee why aren’t you talking to me?” she asked loudly.

Bogie opened his eyes and looked at her. “Maybe I didn’t hear you like you didn’t hear me when I talked to you.”

She put her head down. “Can I sleep with you?”

Bogie sat up, clicked off the TV and motioned for her to come into the big bed where she could sleep for another hour or so and wake up a happier, less combative child.

Elizabeth McGruder sat in the shade on a chaise lounge covered with towels from head to toe. Ann and John Carpenter sat nearby at a round umbrella table sipping sweet tea. John shook his head and smiled. “Is there a reason why she has to sit in the hot sun?”

Ann shrugged. “She thinks we’re on vacation and believes that’s a vacation thing to do.”

“Does she talk about going back to Boston?”

Ann shook her head. “It’s so strange. She seems content here living with her fantasies.”

“So, let her. She’s not bothering anybody.”

“I don’t think Bogie meant for us to camp on his doorstep indefinitely.”

“I don’t hear him complaining. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen enough of him to hear him doing anything. When’s he coming back?”

Ann stared at him.

“I’m asking as a friend and a neighbor, not a cop, Annie.”

Ann studied him then said, “He’s frustrated because the cops are so focused on Bailey and Jack they’re not looking for the person who actually killed Bud.”

“Do you have any idea who it could be?”

“No. It’s somebody who wants Bailey dead. My brother was just in the way.”

“How’s she doing with all this?” He gestured with his thumb toward Elizabeth.

“Fine. We keep her in the dark. She’s living in the past and waiting for Bud to bring Jennifer back here.” As she spoke, a tall, silver-haired man stretched out on a chaise near Elizabeth. Elizabeth sat straight up and glared at him as he adjusted his sun glasses. She muttered in a low voice. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to, well I do. You wanted me to name my daughter Barbara after your mother. You weren’t happy when I named her Ann after my mother. And now that Russian whore has a daughter and just happens to name her Barbara. How stupid do you think I am!?”

The tenant from apartment 210 looked over at the old lady, got up and moved to a chair on the opposite side of the pool.

Ann balled up her hands over her mouth and laughed. “I know it’s not funny, but at least she’s letting out her frustrations. She should have told him off years ago. Maybe they would have had a chance.”

“Who does she think she’s talking to, your father or Bogie?”

“My father. She never talked to Bogie.”

As Bogie and Bailey finished breakfast, Isabella bounced from the floor to the sofa and back again and again. Bogie said, “Maybe she’ll be a gymnast when she grows up.”

Bailey watched her and smiled. “I don’t care what she is. I just want her to be happy.”

Bogie took her hand and held it. “There’s something I need to tell you...”

The knock on the door was loud. As Isabella started to run toward the door, Bogie lifted her in the air. “Don’t do that, Isabella! Don’t answer doors! You have no idea who’s there.” As she pouted, he hugged her and looked through the peep hole. Bogie unlocked the door and Isabella squealed. “Uncle Jack! Uncle George!”

Bailey turned pale and put down her cup of tea.

Bogie motioned them in and said, “Bailey and Jack are going to talk. George and I are going to take Isabella for a ride on the Swan Boats.” He hugged Jack and bumped fists with George.

George picked up Isabella. “Hey, girlfriend, what’s happening?”

Bogie and Bailey rolled their eyes as Isabella recounted every detail of her wonderful trip to Palm Beach and how her parents snatched her away and didn’t bring her kick boxing outfit to the airport. She ended her dissertation by telling them she was watching TV this morning and Da-dee shut it off.

Bogie whispered to George, “What the hell is it with her and Jerry Springer?”

George shrugged. “She’s got some kind of radar for that show. You know she just does it to piss you off, don’t you?”

“Tell me something I don’t know! I’m just curious how she knows how to find it.”

“She’s a very smart little kid.”

Bailey got up from her chair, walked to Jack and hugged him and sobbed.

Bogie quickly helped Isabella get dressed so he and George could have the thrill of yet another Swan Boat ride. As they walked out the main entrance of the hotel, Bogie looked around and took a deep breath. “This is what Boston is all about! About ten days a year the air is clear and beautiful. Those days fall in May, June and October. Every other time it’s up for grabs.”

“Like the weather is better in Florida!”

“It is. Other than hurricane season, it’s pretty good. I could live with a lot less humidity, but what the hell!”

“So you’re entrenched there?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m planning on talking Bailey into relocating there.”

George smiled but Bogie could see the hurt and anger in his eyes. “That shouldn’t be difficult! The house is being foreclosed. At best, Bailey and Jack will probably get charged with obstruction and lose their licenses to practice.”

Bogie shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I even brought up the whole mess. But since I have, I just want to ask you one question.” As George rolled his eyes, Bogie continued, “Why Weston? Why the hell did you move to such an expensive town?”

“Bailey. She was making big bucks working for Rubin and wouldn’t listen when we tried to tell her it wouldn’t last. Sal gave her what she thought was a sweet deal on the house. Even with that she couldn’t make the payments alone, so she kept pushing for us to move into the carriage house and pay one third of the monthly payment.” After pausing for a minute, George said, “That was the biggest fight we ever had. We almost had a smack down over that frigg’n house. Jack wimped out, and I got to go along to get along.”

“Just to live in Weston! Bailey never seemed so driven to climb the social ladder,” Bogie said.

“Jack said she never got over the family losing everything and moving back to Sutton, West Virginia. He said they had the high life in a big house in Nashville. They each had ponies and the works. Then something happened with the IRS. They took just about everything, and Hank almost ended up in prison. He was still embroiled in a lawsuit with his business manager when he died. Their mother and father both crawled in a bottle and rarely came out for air. The kids just got to watch the meltdown. When their plane crashed, Hank was trying to make a comeback.”

Bogie studied George then asked, “So buying a house in Weston was going to make up for it?”

George shrugged. “Maybe to Bailey’s way of thinking. She’s very insecure.”

“I know,” Bogie said softly. “But why was the house only in her name? Why wasn’t it in all your names or, at the very least, in her name and Jack’s name?”

George made a sound that was half a ‘humph
’
and half a laugh. “Since Jack’s a sole practitioner, he thought it would be better to have it in Bailey’s name in case someone sued him. He said, ‘if I can’t trust Bailey, I can’t trust anybody’.”

“Uncle George, we have your suitcase,” Isabella announced as they walked.

George glanced at Bogie who said, “She’s the only one who noticed that Louis Vuitton went for a ride.”

George laughed. “Thank you, Izzy. I’m glad you’re looking out for me.”

The child smiled and nodded.

After two rides on the Swan Boat, Bogie called James and told him they’d stop by. It was one-thirty by the time they walked to the McGruder house with Izzy’s short legs getting tired. When the old man opened the door, Bogie introduced him to George and then handed over Isabella as he carried in bags of food from a local restaurant.

“Where’s Trudie?” Bogie asked as he looked around.

“She’s upstairs resting with a bad cold. The skylight window in our room has been leaking. We’ve had a bit of rain and it’s made the room cold and damp.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Bogie asked.

“To whom? The Mrs. and Ann have been in Florida.”

“Are there any tools or caulking around here?”

“Maybe in the basement.”

While the others ate, Bogie went down to the basement and came up with some rusted tools and a caulking gun that had seen better days thirty years earlier. He had a roll of silver duct tape around his wrist. “If nothing else works, at least I’ve got the greatest all-purpose tool.” He lifted his arm to show off the tape.

“James, please call upstairs and tell Trudie I’m coming up so she doesn’t have a heart attack when I walk in her room.”

James smiled as he dialed the house phone. “Maybe she’ll think you’re a secret admirer.”

Twenty minutes later Bogie came downstairs carrying the tools and a tray of empty cups and glasses. The window will be okay for a day or so. I’ll send somebody over to replace it. The whole frame’s rotted. Geez, that room’s cold. Can’t you put a space heater in there?”

When James told him they used to have one until it burned out, Bogie went up to the second floor and brought the heater out of Elizabeth’s room. He carried it to the third floor and plugged it in. He came back downstairs telling James to take better care of Trudie. Bogie placed the leftover food in the refrigerator instructing James to make sure Trudie ate. He stuffed bills in the old man’s hand telling him to get Trudie whatever she needed. As the men embraced, Bogie said, “You know it wouldn’t be a bad idea to pinch a bottle of Scotch from the den. A taste would warm you both up, and they sure don’t need it.”

As they walked back to the hotel with Bogie carrying a very tired Izzy, George looked at him and smiled. “You’re really a soft touch!”

“No, I’m not. I’m mean and tough and don’t you forget it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

When they got back to the room, Isabella was fast asleep and Bailey and Jack were sitting on the sofa holding hands. Their eyes were bloodshot and brimming. Tissues were wadded up around them. Bogie placed Isabella in the center of the bed, took off her shoes and covered her. He smoothed her red curls away from her face and kissed her cheek.

Sitting in a semicircle with Bailey and Jack on the couch and Bogie and George on chairs, Bogie looked around and said, “The house is gone. I ran the numbers and had a contractor do a quick and dirty estimate on what it would take to even make the house saleable. The numbers are ugly. I don’t know how that house ever passed inspection to get a mortgage, but that’s another issue. The house is so far under water it’s bumping into the hull of the Titanic. It’s not worth a fraction of the mortgage on it and can’t even be sold on a short sale. Bailey’s credit will be ruined, but I think it’s heading in that direction anyway. The problem here is housing.” Bogie looked at Jack’s sad face. “I have the house in Quincy. Chan, the neighbor, has been trying to buy it for next to nothing since the housing market went down the toilet and the tenants moved out. He and I couldn’t agree on a price so there it sits. It’s not Weston, but it’s a decent neighborhood in North Quincy. Jack, you lived there during the summers when you were in high school.”

Jack nodded.

“You and George can move in there and stay as long as you want, months, years, I don’t care. All you have to do is pay the taxes and utilities. That’ll be a fraction of what you were paying in Weston. George can have the place looking like it belongs on the pages of House Beautiful in no time. Oh, and you’ll probably have to learn Cantonese so you can communicate with the neighbors.”

After tears were shed all around, Jack blew his nose and said, “What about Bailey, she’s not supposed to leave the State?”

“Remember the condo in Allston?”

“You still have that?”

Bogie nodded. “Yes, but it’s being rented now. The building’s a combination of apartments and condos. I’m trying to get a short-term sublease on the third floor. It’s the same two bedroom set up. I should know by four o’clock.”

Bailey looked at him. “Are we going back to Weston today?”

Bogie looked at his watch and shook his head. “We’re way past check out time. You’ll have to suffer through another night at the Four Seasons.” With everyone more relaxed, Bogie continued, “Now we’ve got some really serious problems to discuss.” Checking out their wide eyes and open mouths, Bogie said, “The rat in our midst!”

Bailey, Jack and George collectively said, “What?”

“Unless the house was bugged, which, by the way, it wasn’t, somebody there was feeding information to Bud. He wasn’t an oracle, he was a sneak. He had somebody reporting on Bailey’s movements.”

Together they said, “Kim!”

Bogie nodded. “Unfortunately, the cops probably already know that. They can go through Bud’s cell phone records and come up with a number they can tie back to her. Where was she when you got home covered with blood? Where was she when the clothes were buried?”

No one could remember. Bailey was traumatized and in shock. She remembered standing under a hot shower until she almost passed out. She remembered balling up the clothes and boots and carrying them into her bedroom. She knew that Kim was there because she was staying with Izzy, but she didn’t remember seeing her when she got home. The following day was a haze. She could barely get out of bed. Her head was pounding and she considered going to Mass General Hospital just to get checked out, but decided she felt too bad to do that. She remembered she felt just as bad on Monday and cancelled the deposition. Maybe it was Tuesday when she and Jack decided they should bury the things that had been rolled up in a sheet in her bedroom. Of course, Kim could have seen them. She hadn’t said anything, just acted scared and creepy.