Love and Murder in Savannah

by Harper Lin

  “If they know that, why can’t they go arrest him?” Kitty asked in her nervous, frail way. Becky knew her mother was looking at Judge with pleading eyes while wringing her hands.

  “Now, Kitty, if they think this hoodlum is in town somewhere, they’ll tighten the noose and squeeze him out in good time,” Judge said soothingly. “Besides, he killed a man. It was in the most cowardly fashion of a knife in the back. However, the police don’t believe he’s out to harm any women. He might be just lying low until he can hop the next train to Mississippi or Chicago or who knows where.”

  “This is just terrible,” Kitty muttered.

  “Some of the folks think the Bourdeauxs know the culprit,” Judge said as he cleared his throat. “That they might be hiding him. Protecting him.”

  Becky felt her stomach tighten. The Bourdeauxs were the kindest, sweetest people who ever lived. How could anyone say such trash?

  “You don’t think that’s true, do you?” Kitty asked Judge.

  “Course I don’t.”

  “They’ve been through enough with all the stories flying around town about them since this happened. I was sure it was just some of the ladies at the boutiques spinning yarns to keep the customers entertained, but you say the men are saying it too?” Becky knew her mother was shaking her head even without looking at her. “Poor Leona. I know this has got to be wearing her thin.”

  “Ha.” Judge let out a good chuckle. “One thing about Leona Bourdeaux is she isn’t afraid of what the townsfolk think. They may talk behind her back, but not a single one of them will utter anything disrespectful to her face.”

  That is true, Becky thought and was happy to hear her mother giggle a little at Judge’s remark.

  “You are right about that.”

  “Now, Kitty, we’ll let the girls go out tonight, and we’ll talk with them in the morning about what’s being said. Am I correct?”

  “Yes, Judge. That’ll do.”

  Becky waited a couple of seconds before making a fuss as if she’d just come down the stairs and hadn’t been eavesdropping on their conversation.

  “My, oh my. You do look pretty tonight. Where is it that Teddy is taking you gals?” Judge asked.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Becky said while she fidgeted with her gloves and inspected the contents of her clutch just as her bracelet snagged again. “He mentioned something about a friend of his just getting home for a week or so from Biloxi. Basic training, I suppose.”

  “Oh, now that does put my mind at ease that you’ll be with a man who can defend you if necessary,” Kitty exclaimed.

  “Teddy thought he’d be a perfect match for Fanny,” Becky said, almost laughing as her mother’s face fell. “Isn’t that nice? I trust Teddy’s judgment as much as my own. I bet there will be wedding bells before the month is out.”

  “Now, Becky, you quit teasing your mama,” Judge said as he tried not to chuckle. He dug his thumb into his wife’s side, making her squeal and laugh and then slap his strong arm.

  “Behave yourself, Judge.” She rolled her eyes and walked up to her daughter.

  “Your hair looks real fine. That color makes the red just pop. Now, you be careful and stick with Teddy. Don’t go off alone, and take Fanny with you to the ladies’ room. There is safety in numbers.”

  “Ain’t nothing going to happen to me, Mama. Besides, I hear the Heathcliff boy will be there. It’ll be like I have a second shadow.” She kissed Kitty on the cheek and walked to the door just as Teddy was pulling up.

  Just then, Fanny came strolling down the stairs in a beautiful dress that Becky was sure she’d say she got in Paris.

  “Why, Fanny, you look like a true Georgia peach,” Kitty said.

  “Thank you, Aunt Kitty. I got this dress in Paris and thought that exact thing when I saw it in one of the more upscale boutiques. I said to Granny Louise that I must have a dress the color of a Georgia peach. Why, we scooped it up immediately and—”

  “And we’re going to be late. Let’s go. Night, Mama. Night, Daddy,” Becky said as she hurried out the front screen door and let it slam shut on Fanny.

  “Don’t be too late!” Kitty waved as both girls piled into Teddy’s car. “Teddy, you bring them home in one piece.”

  Teddy honked the horn before slipping the car into gear and driving off.

  “So, where is this party tonight?” Becky asked.

  “Near the docks downtown.” Teddy lifted his chin as he spoke. “There is a row of apartments, and my good friend Lance decided to throw a rub in his new digs.”

  “Downtown?” Becky asked, remembering what she overheard her parents talking about.

  “Well, kinda-sorta downtown. Look, it’ll be a riot. Just trust me.”

  Becky thought Teddy looked like the cat that swallowed the canary. But she had always been up for an adventure. This was no different from the juice joint on the river or any speakeasy she slipped into. However, something in her gut made her feel uneasy. It had to be her parents’ conversation and nothing more. They’d put a bee in her bonnet.

  “And I think a certain fella from the papers is going to be there too,” Teddy added.

  Becky snapped her head around to stare at him, but he was not biting. Instead, he grinned and looked out at the road in front of them.

  “Rebecca, I don’t think your mother would approve of you seeing that boy. Especially when they are so worried about this situation with the Bourdeauxs’ killer,” Fanny piped up from the rumble seat.

  “He’s not the Bourdeauxs’ killer, Fanny. It’s not like they hired him to attend Martha’s party.” Becky knew full well why Fanny didn’t want her seeing Adam. She wanted to sink her claws into him herself. And it made Becky rage inside that he didn’t seem to do very much to discourage her from doing just that. All the worry about what her parents had discussed instantly left her. She scooted in her seat and took the cigarette that Teddy had just lit from his mouth. Then she took a puff before putting it back where she’d found it.

  “I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that that sort of thing is stressful enough, and you don’t need to add to your mother’s concerns by flirting with a boy who can only bring you misery.” Fanny leaned over, letting Teddy get a healthy glimpse of cleavage that almost made him drive off the road. “Wouldn’t you agree, Theodore?”

  “Whatever you say, Fanny, my dear,” Teddy replied after gaining control of the car again.

  Becky was fit to be tied, so she kept her mouth shut for the rest of the ride, letting Fanny spin her web all around Teddy. She couldn’t compete with all that. The best she could hope for was that sooner or later, everyone would see through Fanny’s ruse.

  Finally, they reached the place. It wasn’t hard to find. The music from the apartment echoed down the street from two open windows. There were folks perched on the fire escape, and a few more had found a couple of dark corners where they had escaped for a few minutes to neck before going back to the party.

  “Delilah? Zachary? Is that you?” Becky teased as she hopped out of the car.

  “Hi, Becky,” they replied in unison.

  “I’m telling you, if I ever saw one of you without the other, I don’t think I’d recognize who I was talking to. How’s the digs?” Becky pointed up at the open window.

  “Real nice,” Zachary said.

  “Tell it to Sweeney, Zach. You two probably haven’t even made it up there yet. Would you like me to bring you a drink down so you don’t have to stop what you’re doing?” Becky smirked.

  “We’ll be up in no time.” Delilah laughed.

  “Sure. Sure.”

  Becky hurried up the stoop, which was also crowded with people, and said hello to several of them in passing. When she opened the door, the entire stairwell was crammed with people holding cigarettes and mason jars. Everyone looked like they were having fun, and Becky was ready to join them.

  As she squeezed her way up the steps to the source of the music, she heard someone calling her name. She looke
d but couldn’t see over the heads of all the people. With a shrug she went into the apartment, found the spare room that was really just a closet where the gin was being generously poured, took a jar for herself, and began to mingle. It didn’t take long for her to find him.

  Adam sat on a flimsy chair that looked barely strong enough to hold his big frame. He was looking right at her, his sleeves rolled up around his strong arms and his forehead wet with sweat. Inside the apartment, it was hot, but what Becky was feeling was something more.

  But before she could pull up the courage to go talk to him, Fanny sauntered in. Like a magnet, she found Adam, who stood up and shook her hand. When he looked up, Becky made darn sure that he saw her turn and walk into the kitchen.

  “There you are!” Martha shouted as she stuffed some kind of food into her mouth. “I’ve been waiting all night for you.”

  “I’m glad someone has.” Becky sighed and joined her friend.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Why, is that my favorite redhead?” asked a voice from a stove that radiated more heat than the street out front at noontime.

  “Hank? What are you doing here?” Becky stepped up to him and peered over his shoulder at the skillet in his hand. “Willie’s let you go?”

  “No. Scheduled raid. Boss told all the regulars to take a hike while he handled the police. We’ll be back in business in no time,” he said while shaking what appeared to be sausage in the frying pan.

  “I didn’t know you could cook. Why, you’ll make some lucky lady the most beautiful wife,” Becky said, giving his beefy arm a squeeze.

  “You try these sausages and peppers I’m making, and I bet you’ll have a ring for me by sunrise,” Hank laughed.

  “Since you aren’t on guard, you want to cut the rug? I’ve never seen you dance before. I bet you’re the bee’s knees,” Becky said. She wasn’t serious with Hank. He had a reputation of being a real kneecap breaker. In fact, she was sure that was where he earned himself a few extra bucks. But she couldn’t help but like him. Being friends with a guy his size was the next best thing to dating one. She was sure she wasn’t the only lady happy a guy like him was around.

  “I’m more like the bee’s backside. But when you get hungry, come my way.” He winked and clicked his tongue. “I’ll save you a bite.” Suddenly his eyes snapped to something behind Becky, and she saw him practically melt. “I see you brought trouble with you.” Of course, he saw Teddy with Fanny.

  “Ugh, you’re on your own with that one, Hank. Be careful. The edges are sharp.” Becky patted him on the back.

  “They look smooth to me,” he muttered before turning back to his skillet.

  “I do not like how she constantly clings to Teddy,” Martha said, crossing her legs and taking a sip from her own mason jar. “Tell me, Becks. Is she after him?”

  “No more than she’s after every other Johnny in the place,” Becky said, hiding the twinge of pain in her heart. “She rushed up to Adam like he was a life preserver and she was drowning.”

  “Well, I can hardly blame the girl for that.” Martha nudged Becky with her elbow. “Are you going to go talk to him? I know every time someone came through the door, he looked up. I’m pretty sure he was looking for you.”

  “If that’s true, how come he didn’t even get up when he saw me? And yes, he did see me just before Fanny filled up his line of vision.” Becky shook her head, making her red curls bounce around her face. “Martha, am I normal?”

  “Absolutely not.” Martha smiled broadly. “That’s why I love you. I know it’s been hectic these past few weeks, and we haven’t had nearly the right amount of visits we should have. But once things with… the murder,” she whispered, “die down, everything will be back to normal, and you’ll feel better. I’m sure that having Miss Fanny on your heels at home hasn’t helped.”

  “Did I tell you she was snooping in my room?” Becky asked as she watched her cousin awkwardly try to do the foxtrot. “For someone who boasted about her trip to Paris, I have to ask, don’t they dance there? She’s two left feet and all wet.”

  Martha laughed, and then Becky laughed, and before they knew it, they were laughing at just about everything.

  “Well, Leona, my mother, had Father Bartholomew come and bless the house again,” Martha said, her words starting to slur slightly. “It was very nice. He walked through the whole house and blessed each room with a sprinkle of water. He even blessed the bar. And the jars of hooch in the basement. I think my daddy made sure he left with one.”

  “Well, that was mighty kind of your daddy,” Becky said encouragingly. “He is nothing but one hundred percent pure Southern gentleman. Tell me, have the police told him anything about the murder? That he doesn’t already know, having the crime committed in his own home and all.”

  Martha put her index finger to her lips. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. The ladies in town have been all over Mama for details. The ones that never had any time to speak to her before suddenly invite her for lemonade and pie. But my mama is smarter than all of them. She tells them she’d love to but can’t because she’s behind on alphabetizing her poisons and cleaning her rifles.”

  “She did not utter those words!” Becky howled, slapping the table.

  “Sure did. I heard her myself say it to your favorite lady, Mrs. Heathcliff.” Martha nodded her head all the way back and all the way forth until her chin touched her chest.

  “Oh, that busybody.” Becky blew a loud, juicy raspberry. “I just don’t know why her son is fixed on me. I never said nothing out of the ordinary to him. Maybe I suggested he not take any wooden nickels. That’s the best advice I could come up with, although he did give you a lovely present for your birthday.”

  “He did?”

  “He gave you a thermometer. I thought that was rather clever,” Becky said.

  “That’s funny. I don’t remember. Everything kind of went hazy after… the incident.” Martha frowned and squinted at the same time.

  “What about you? Anyone giving you the bum’s rush? I’ll sic Hank on them,” Becky said, taking a cigarette from the gent who squeezed into the kitchen next to her.

  He lit it quickly, and after Becky took a puff, she held it in Martha’s mouth for her to do the same. Then Becky handed it back to the gent, who gave her a wink and thanks before heading back into the living room, where a lot of floor stomping was going on.

  “None of the people that matter to me,” Martha said. She’d hit her limit, and Becky saw the tears coming to her eyes. Leave it to Martha to be at the best party that had been thrown in weeks and get all bleary-eyed. “I know some of those debutantes are eating it up, thinking that I’m just staying in like a wallflower. But they ain’t better than me. Or you. You’re the cat’s pajamas, Rebecca Madeline Mackenzie. You couldn’t be sweeter to me than if you were my own sister. I’d be lost without you. Do you hear me? Lost.”

  “Hey, Hank!” Becky shouted over the music and the conversation. “How long until that grub is ready? Martha needs a little something in her stomach if she’s going to last the night.”

  “Hot stuff coming up,” Hank said and grabbed a saucer and loaded it with his sausage-and-peppers concoction. “You know who taught me how to make this? That sheik of yours. Adam What’s-His-Name.”

  “He ain’t my sheik,” Becky snapped.

  “He is so!” Martha piped up, the tears suddenly gone.

  Becky took the plate and pushed it on Martha. “Here. Put something in your pie hole, please. I’m going to go get us a refill. I’m the Sahara Desert.” Becky scooted out from behind the table. She didn’t get five feet before Sam Lustyk scooped her up for a quick dance.

  “That big palooka you’re always eyeballing is making with the puppy dog eyes, Becks. It ain’t none of my business, but are you guys on the outs?” Sam asked.

  “It’s complicated. Especially when a third gets added to what should have been a duo.” Becky saw Fanny staring at Adam, and it made her miss her step. She
landed squarely on Sam’s toe. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Sam. I think I need another drink.”

  “Well, you get your sea legs and then come back to me, baby. The night is young.” He stepped back, took Becky’s hand, and kissed it.

  “I’ll do just that,” Becky promised. Then she carefully wove her way through the room to the spare room where the booze was. When she emerged with a mason jar filled with ice and gin, she caught a glimpse of a peculiar feather poking straight up from someone’s head.

  Across the room, a tall man in a turban was pulling scarves from his sleeve to the bewilderment of a couple of ladies. He was Count Ernesto. Smirking, Becky was going to go say hello, but before she could squeeze through the crowd, she felt someone take hold of her hand.

  The music changed to a slower song, and before Becky knew what was happening, she was in Adam’s arms. After a few seconds and sips from her mason jar, he spoke.

  “You didn’t think you could avoid me all night, did you?” He stared down at her, his eyebrows arching up.

  “Well, I figured you had your hands full with my cousin just pouring herself out in front of you,” Becky said. “You didn’t seem to mind being her knight in shining armor the other night. Remember? When you didn’t believe me.”

  “First, Rebecca, I don’t recall needing anyone’s permission to get two ladies out of a dangerous situation.” Becky tried to pull away from him, but Adam held her tighter. Her knees went rubbery, and she hated them for that. “Second, I didn’t see some old ragamuffin coming out of the paddy wagon like you said you saw. What did you want me to do? Lie just so you’d feel better?”

  Becky shrugged. “I wanted you to listen to me. Is your mother ill, Adam?” She felt a little lightheaded. The feeling swept over her like a breeze from a fan and then left just as quickly. But when her head cleared, she had a vision of an older lady who had wavy hair like Adam’s lingering in her mind’s eye. The woman was in bed, but she was smiling and alert.

  His feet stopped moving. “She had a fever. Why? How do you know?”