The Savage Son (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 6)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  He walked over to a counter and asked the woman there a question. She nodded, picked up a phone, and talked to someone. As she was doing this, Carter walked back over to where I was standing.

  "Now what?" I asked.

  "Now, we wait."

  We didn't wait long. About five minutes later a man about our age came over. He was a little shorter than me, wore a dark red sweater under a brown coat, had round spectacles, and was handsome in a collegiate sort of way.

  "Mr. Jones?" he asked.

  Carter nodded and extended his hand. "Mr. Crenshaw. Thanks for taking care of us." Gesturing to me, Carter said, "This is my friend, Nick Williams." At the sound of my name, the man's eyes bulged a bit.

  "Oh, of course. How stupid of me. Well, this is a real honor to have you both here in the store. Follow me, won't you?"

  As we walked behind him, I whispered, "What are we doing here?"

  Carter whispered back, "Hold your horses, Boss, and you'll see."

  We walked up half a flight of stairs and through a room filled with china, silverware, and crystal. We'd spent an afternoon in that part of the store back in '49. In order to replace the chipped and cracked plates and glasses we'd moved into the house with, we'd asked Diane to come down with us and pick out plates, silverware, and other necessary things. We'd had a lot of fun that day. Even Carter, who'd been dreading the experience, had a good time.

  At the back of the room, we came to a curtain, which Mr. Crenshaw pulled back. After passing through, we walked down a long hallway. At the end, there was another curtain. He turned and stood in front of it.

  "Everything will be delivered to your home at 5:30 promptly, just as you requested. And, as you asked, I put together a sample, so you can see what it looks like." He dramatically pulled back the curtain and I took a deep breath in surprise.

  What was in the room was a seven-foot tall fir tree that had been decorated beautifully. I looked at Carter and asked, "Is this what you bought here?"

  He smiled down at me, his face illuminated by the bright red, green, blue, and yellow diamond-shaped bulbs that crisscrossed the tree. "Yep."

  I walked over to the tree and looked at it. It was perfect. The ornaments were all the same art deco shape but in different vivid colors of red, green, blue, yellow, purple, and pink. I immediately recognized them. They were perfectly round iridescent globes with diamond insets. The insets matched the shapes of the bulbs.

  "Remember telling me about 1928?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "No."

  "You did. It was right after Mack died. We were sitting on the sofa. And you were telling me why you would never have another Christmas tree again."

  I nodded. He was right. I had also had about three Martinis by that time. That's why I didn't remember at first.

  Mr. Crenshaw said, "I went through our files and found the sales records." He looked at his notes. "These are the same lights and ornaments that were ordered for 1198 Sacramento Street by a Mrs. Parnell Williams and delivered there on Friday, December 14, 1928."

  I asked, "Do you have the original sales slip?"

  He smiled and nodded. Opening up a small folder, he showed it to me. It was on green paper, and much of the ink was faded, but I could still see my mother's signature on the bottom. I had forgotten how bold her writing was. I ran my finger over it.

  I said, "Thanks."

  He smiled and closed the folder. "The ornaments are no longer made. But, through a stroke of luck, I found three boxes of them in storage. I don't know how they hadn't been remaindered by now. I'm glad they weren't. Aren't they gorgeous?"

  I nodded. "They are. They're just like I remember."

  "As for the lights, we are fortunate that the manufacturer still makes them and we were able to get them. If you find you need more than what we sent over, I'll just pull from this tree." He looked over at it wistfully. "I am, however, planning on moving this tree into our Christmas section tonight after the store closes. Seems a shame to let it sit in here all alone."

  . . .

  We pulled into the driveway a little after 5. Carter said that Sam would take the streetcar back to the house, so we were alone.

  I walked up the steps and unlocked the door. I said, "Shopping at Union Square means everything gets delivered." I put my hat on the rack and walked into the sitting room as Carter closed the door.

  I was looking around to see where the tree might go, when Carter came up behind me and pulled me close.

  "Now, tell me the truth, Nick. How are you?"

  I turned around in his arms and said, "I'm better than I thought I would be."

  Carter smiled. "So does that mean I can have a tree next year?"

  I smiled back. "Sure. You take care of it and it's all yours."

  We stood there for a moment, holding each other.

  Finally, I said, "I love you, Chief."

  "I love you, Boss."

  And, at that moment, there was a knock on the front door. I looked around Carter and saw that the tree had arrived.

  Chapter 10

  137 Hartford Street

  Saturday, December 19, 1953

  Around 7 in the evening

  While Carter and Sam were stringing lights on the tree, the doorbell rang. A light rain was falling outside. I was sitting on the sofa with a Martini just taking it all in. The hi-fi was on and the radio was tuned to KGO which was playing Christmas songs.

  I got up and answered the door. It was Mrs. Wilson and Marnie. "Come in. What brings you two out in the rain?"

  Marnie said, "We're here for the tree trimming party, Nick!"

  "What tree trimming party?" Before anyone could answer, I saw Henry and Robert walking up the steps. Henry was carrying a big covered dish in his gloved hands.

  After getting everyone in the door, I asked Carter, "What's this about a party?"

  He was on the ladder trying to stabilize the angel ornament that Mr. Crenshaw had included as a bonus. He said, "I didn't tell you?" He was grinning from ear to ear.

  "No, Carter Woodrow Wilson Jones, you didn't."

  Everyone in the room laughed as the doorbell rang again.

  . . .

  As more people began to arrive, Carter had put some records on the hi-fi. I was in the kitchen talking with Henry and Robert. We were listening to some guy named Tony Bennett. Right at that moment, he had a big number-one song called "Rags to Riches," but that wasn't on this album. Carter liked the guy. I wasn't sure.

  As "The Valentino Tango" began to play, Carter walked into the kitchen. He grabbed me and said, "Dance with me, Nick." Like a cartoon, we did our version of a tango which probably looked nothing like the real one. As it ended, he dipped me back and, somehow, neither of us fell.

  As the next song played, we embraced and I saw that Sam was leaning in the doorway watching us. He was filling out the new clothes he'd bought the day before quite nicely.

  "You two are really in love, right?" Robert and Henry laughed at this.

  I smiled as Carter gave me a kiss and said, "Damn right we are."

  Right then, I heard Diane knocking on the back door. "Yoo hoo!"

  I opened the door and she walked in with a big platter covered with her famous deviled eggs. Carter grabbed one and popped it in his mouth before she could put the platter on the counter. He smiled at her like one of her students when she said, "Save some for the others, Carter."

  Pam was next. She was carrying two unmarked gallon bottles full of red wine. "These are from a winery up in Napa. Can't remember the name, but it's good stuff." She set them down heavily on the kitchen table.

  Evelyn brought up the rear. She was holding a big casserole dish covered with tin foil and it smelled wonderful.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  She smirked as she said, "Butternut squash a la Evelyn."

  Carter said, "Smells good."

  I said, "Let's go into the sitting room. Who wants a drink?"

  After orders had been taken, Carter started to build the drinks f
or the latest arrivals. I introduced Sam to the ladies. Pam was gruff as always until she recognized Sam.

  "Hey," she said. "Didn't you work on that building on Market and 3rd Street?"

  He nodded. Then he said, "I remember you!" He smiled and turned to the rest of us. "This lady don't take shit off no one. Put it there." He reached out and the two shook.

  Diane said, "That's my Pam. She's the best."

  Sam said, "Damn straight! You should be running those construction jobs." Turning to me, he said, "I don't know how many times she saved our bacon. After two big accidents, I had to quit. Got too dangerous. The bosses had their heads up their asses. But once she'd figure out what they wanted, she'd get us organized." He shook his head in admiration. "You're quite a gal." Looking around the room, he said, "Hey! Where'd she go?"

  Diane said, "She went to the kitchen. Pam's kinda shy."

  I wandered in after her. She was knocking back a glass of the wine she'd brought.

  "What's up?"

  She shook her head. "I hate that kinda talk."

  "How so?"

  "You know. That kinda bragging."

  I folded my arms. "Bragging on someone isn't the same as bragging on yourself. I've never heard you say a nice thing about yourself but I've heard you say plenty of wonderful things about Diane."

  She smiled. "She's the best, Nick."

  I nodded. "Yeah. She is. And so are you."

  Her face turned red.

  I had an idea. "Henry is here."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah. So, how about I have a talk with him about you working for him?"

  "Work for him? He's just an engineer."

  I nodded. "But he's got a new building project coming up and I bet he could use your help."

  She shrugged. "OK. I guess. But, how do you know he's a got a project?"

  I smiled. "It's a secret. But I know he does and I know he'll wanna work with you on it."

  She smiled, a little. "Sure thing." With that, she walked past Carter into the sitting room.

  . . .

  I found Henry sitting on the sofa with Robert. They were holding hands and it was real sweet. I said, "I hate to interrupt but I need to talk to Henry." I reached down and pulled Henry up. He looked down at Robert and said, "Back soon." Robert nodded and smiled.

  I walked over to the door and looked around to see if Carter was watching. The coast was clear, so I said, "It's about the thing. Let's go for a walk around the block."

  "In this cold?" Henry asked.

  I nodded. "Otherwise. You know." I wanted to get out of there before got caught.

  Henry sighed dramatically and said, "Fine."

  Once we were bundled up, we walked down the steps and out onto the sidewalk. As we started up Hartford to 18th Street, I asked, "How're the plans for the new building coming?"

  "Fine. The architect is almost done. I think we got everything you wanted."

  "Great. And you haven't told anyone, have you?"

  Henry shook his head. "No. Just like you said. Top secret."

  "Good. I have a favor to ask."

  "Nick. It's your money. We can do anything you want."

  "I want you to hire Pam as the construction lead."

  "What?"

  "Pam. Our neighbor? Of Pam and Diane?"

  "Sure. I know her. But why do you want me to hire her?"

  "I think you'll want her working for you once you give her a chance."

  "But I'm just an engineer. I hire the construction company."

  "You're the engineer and the project manager. Henry, you gotta start thinking like Mr. Bechtel. You engineer the project, not just the building."

  As we turned up 18th Street, he was quiet. We came around the corner on Castro. The street was packed with people doing their Christmas shopping and going out for dinner or to see a movie at the Castro Theater. Finally, he said, "I'll do it. Like I said, it's your money."

  I patted him on the back. "Thanks, Henry. You won't regret it."

  He mumbled, "Who's ever heard of a girl in charge of construction?"

  Right then a couple walked past us. They were in their 20s and had been drinking. The woman stopped and backed up. "Hey! You guys twins or something?"

  I just smiled and said, "Yeah." I pointed to Henry. "But he's the handsome one."

  The woman giggled as her date pulled her along. I heard him say, "God, Ann. I can't take you anywhere."

  . . .

  When we got back to the house, Marnie and Mrs. Wilson were leaving.

  I asked, "Early night?"

  Marnie turned pink. Mrs. Wilson said, "I have another party to attend and Marnie wanted to turn in."

  I said, "I'm glad I didn't miss you before you left."

  Mrs. Wilson put her gloved hand against my cold cheek. "You know, Nicholas, I really do think of you and Carter as my sons."

  I nodded, bent down, and kissed her on the cheek. As they walked down the street, I wondered what that was about.

  I jogged up the steps, walked in, and saw Carter standing next to the tree and talking to Carlo Martinelli. He looked up at me for a long moment and then went back to whatever he'd been saying. I didn't like the looks of that.

  . . .

  As far as I could tell, almost everyone we had been close to in the last few years had floated in or out at some point during the evening.

  The one person I hadn't expected to see was Gary Reynolds. He'd moved to San Francisco in '49 and had fallen in love with Mack, who had been one of my best friends and, for a short while after the war, a lover. Mack had died at the beginning of the Korean War when his ship, a minesweeper, was hit. Gary had inherited a small fortune from Mack and had moved back home to Denver. He'd kept in touch with letters and the occasional phone call. It was good to see him in person, however.

  "This is Bobby." As he shook my hand, he said, "Mr. Williams. It is an honor."

  He had a familiar accent. "Are you from Mexico?" I asked.

  He smiled and it was dazzling. "Yes. I am from Cabo San Lucas. It's a small town at the end of the Baja California. Do you know it?"

  I shook my head. "I've only been to Ensenada."

  Bobby frowned. "Oh yes. I see this in the newspaper. So tragic. I'm sorry."

  I nodded and said, "Thanks. How did you and Gary meet?"

  Gary, who was a couple of inches taller, put his arm around Bobby's shoulder. "After I moved back to Denver in '51, I was out at a friend's house. He was having a big party and that's where we met. Turns out he's an architect. Now he works for me." Bobby elbowed him. Gary smiled." What I mean to say is that now we work together. We're building houses in a little town in the foothills called Golden."

  I smiled. "Congratulations. Sounds like you're doing great."

  "Construction is booming," Gary said. "Who would've thought a welder like me would someday be running my own construction business?" His eyes got misty for a moment.

  Bobby said, "Ah, honey. You miss him, don't you?"

  Gary nodded. He looked at me. "The memory. It's still there, ain't it?"

  I nodded. "We went to Arlington National Cemetery back in June and saw where he's buried."

  Gary's face clouded over. "I never agreed with that." Mack's mother had moved her son's body from where we'd buried him in Colma to the national cemetery in Arlington. He was entitled to it, but it had been hard to deal with at the time.

  "Did you ever meet Mrs. McKnight?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "You?"

  "Yeah." I was thoughtful for a moment, remembering our remarkable lunch at the Mark Hopkins in December of '50. "I think she would've like you."

  . . .

  As the evening continued, I realized this was already my favorite Christmas since '28. The house full of friends, the music on the hi-fi, the tree with its lights and ornaments. These were all putting me in the Christmas spirit in a way that hadn't happened in a long time.

  As I was mulling this over, I walked into the kitchen to see if any of Diane's deviled egg
s were left. A platter on the counter had a lone survivor that was sitting next to the penguin eggs. Diane used bits of carrot and black olives to make whole boiled eggs look like the famously flightless birds.

  Sam was sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of Olympia beer. He looked glum. I looked in the icebox and found a Bergie, opened it, and sat down with him.

  "What's up?" I asked.

  He sighed. "I miss Ike."

  I nodded. "It's kinda hard to get in the party mood when your squeeze is in the clink." I took a drink of beer. As I did, Carter walked in.

  "What's going on, you two?" He tried to look jealous, but it didn't take.

  I said, "Sam was telling me how he misses Ike."

  Carter turned a kitchen chair around, sat down, and leaned forward into the back of the chair. "Yeah. Nick was in jail last summer for a couple of nights. Longest two nights of my life."

  I offered my beer to Carter, who took a swig, and handed it back. He said, "We did have a romantic interlude in the rain, though."

  Sam asked, "What happened?"

  I said, "Carter parked the car outside the window of my cell. I just watched him as he watched me. It was damn near the most romantic thing he's ever done. It was, I dunno, 3 in the morning and raining lightly. He just stood there, with his arms folded, and watched me."

  I looked over at Carter. His gaze was a thing to behold. I was so in love with my husband right at that moment.

  Sam said, "I'm surprised things don't catch on fire around you when you do that."

  We all laughed.

  . . .

  After everyone had left and Sam was upstairs, Carter and I sat on the sofa, holding hands and watched the lights on the tree. They didn't blink, or anything like that, but they were beautiful. My mother obviously had good taste.

  Carter put his arm around me and pulled me in close. "Happy?"

  I snuggled in. "Next to you. Always."

  "How about that party?"

  "That was something. How'd you pull that together?"

  "I tried a little trick you once suggested."

  "What was that?"

  "I asked Marnie to take care of it."