Touchy and Feely (Sissy Sawyer Mysteries) (15 page)

‘I wish I knew,’ said Sissy.

They waited and waited, and Sam did a little shuffle to keep his feet warm. ‘I can’t stay too much longer, Sissy. I have to go to Torrington before the bank closes.’

‘Well, OK,’ Sissy conceded. ‘Maybe I got it wrong. Maybe I should do the cards again, to see if I’ve made a mistake. The cards can be sly, you know. They won’t lie to you, but they can lead you up the garden path.’

‘Beth was like that.’

‘Beth? I can’t believe it.’

‘Oh, she never told an untruth, not once. But she had a rare talent for making you think what she wanted you to think.’

‘Yes,’ said Sissy. She took his arm and they went back inside, into the kitchen. ‘I guess you’d better be on your way.’

But at that moment, the clock in the hallway chimed three. And at the same time, with what seemed like unnatural loudness, the anchorwoman on the TV news said, ‘State police detectives say they have a new witness to the shooting yesterday of Mrs Ellen Mitchelson, who was gunned down in her own back yard in Canaan by a single rifle shot. So far they are refusing to identify the witness, or to say exactly what fresh information he might have given them, but they say they are hopeful of making an arrest “within hours rather than days.”’

‘However, police are still asking people in Canaan to keep their eyes and ears open for anything that strikes them as suspicious.’

‘Eyes and ears open,’ said Sissy. ‘Sam . . . we’ve been listening in the wrong place.’

‘What are you talking about, Sissy? Listen, I really have to make tracks.’

‘We should have been listening around Canaan, where that woman was shot.’

‘Well, how do you know that?’

‘I just do. I can feel it. And they said so, on the TV.’

‘So what are you going to do about it? It’s snowing like a bastard out there. You’re going to wander around Canaan with one hand held up to your ear, expecting that you’re going to hear what?’

‘I don’t know. I just know that I have to go there.’

Sam took hold of both of her hands. ‘No, Sissy. This is just a senior moment, that’s all. You’re letting yourself get carried away.’

‘Sam . . . I can’t describe it to you. I feel like I’m
quivering
, like a compass needle.’

‘Listen to me, Sissy, you know what that quivering is? It’s your need to show the world that you’re still useful. I get it from time to time, just the same as you do. It’s because we’ve found ourselves old and alone, without even a partner to appreciate us, and we feel like we’re surplus to requirements.’

‘You’re wrong, Sam. You’re so wrong. I have to go to Canaan.’

Sam released her hands. ‘You can go, Sissy. I’ll even take you there, if you like. But it’s a copper-bottomed waste of time.’

Sissy went back to the coffee table, and turned over the next card in the DeVane deck. She peered at it through her spectacles, and then she handed it to Sam and said, ‘There! If that isn’t proof, I don’t know what is!’

Sam looked at the card skeptically. La Famille du Déluge. It showed a mountain landscape, under a thundery sky, and in the distance Noah’s Ark, tilted at an angle. In the foreground stood Noah and his wife, as well as his sons, Shem and Ham and Japheth, and their wives, and
their
children, too. Ham was resting his hand on one of his son’s shoulders, but the boy had his own hand raised to his ear.

‘I don’t get it,’ said Sam, handing it back.

‘Shame on you, Sam, not knowing your Bible! Ham’s son was called Canaan. And look what he’s doing. He’s
listening
. It’s Canaan, listening, get it?’

‘Oh, come on, Sissy, you’re putting eight and six together and making nineteen.’

‘All right, if you don’t believe me, I’ll call Dan Partridge and ask
him
to run me up to Canaan.’

‘Dan Partridge? That lunatic? There’s no way you’re driving up to Canaan in no blizzard with Dan Partridge.’

Sissy kissed him on the cheek. ‘Then it looks like
you’ll
have to take me, doesn’t it?’

 

F
eely opened the front door. Robert was standing in the porch, hunched up with cold, his coat-collar pulled up to cover his mouth. There was no sign of his car outside, so Feely looked up and down the street, but he couldn’t see it anywhere.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘What do you mean, “what is it”?’ Robert protested. ‘I went back to the diner to pick you up, and you weren’t there!’

‘Well, no, I was here.’

‘Oh, you were here. Great. You couldn’t have left a message or anything?’

‘I didn’t think you were coming back.’

‘Did I tell you I was going to come back?’

‘Yes, you did. But you said twenty minutes.’

‘Christ almighty.’ Robert shook his head in disbelief. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’

‘I don’t know.’ Feely turned around to Serenity, who was standing a little way behind him.

‘Hi there,’ said Robert. ‘I’m Robert Touche.’

‘How are you doing?’ said Serenity.

Robert explained, ‘Fine, I’m good. How are you? Feely and me, we were kind of traveling together.’

‘So he told me.’

‘I thought he was going to wait for me back at the diner but when I came back he wasn’t there so I asked the woman behind the counter if she’d seen him leave and she said yes she’d seen him leave with you and you lived here on Orchard Street.’ He took a breath and said, ‘Serenity, right?’

‘That’s right.’

Robert cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew on them. ‘Pretty damn nippy out here, Serenity. Do you mind if I come inside?’

Serenity turned her mouth down and shook her head. ‘I don’t really think so.’

‘Ha! Well, OK! It’s just that I wanted to ask Feely here if he was traveling any further. You’re still headed north, right, Feely, and I’m still headed north, so you’re welcome to come along. I’m not twisting your arm or anything. You’re good company, that’s all. But if you’re staying here . . . or you want to hitch a ride with somebody else, that’s totally up to you. Totally.’

Serenity reached up behind Feely’s back and began to twist his curls with her fingers. ‘What do you think, Feely? Do you want to chill out here for a while? Or do you want to go along with—what did you say your name was?’

‘Robert Touche. But call me Robert. Or Touchy, if you like. That’s hilarious, don’t you think? I pick up this one guy in the middle of a blizzard and he calls himself Feely. And people are always pronouncing my name wrong and calling me Touchy. So Touchy and Feely. That’s hilarious, don’t you think? Well, I can tell you’re laughing on the inside.’

Serenity said, ‘What do you want to do, Feely? Like he says, it’s totally up to you.’

‘He was the only one who had the benignity to stop for me,’ Feely admitted.

‘You see?’ said Robert.

Feely wanted to go on heading north, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to go on heading north with Robert. He didn’t believe that Robert would ever let him down. After all, hadn’t he come looking for him now, to see if he still needed a ride? But there was something desperate about him that made Feely uneasy. Something dangerously unpredictable, and accident-prone.

Robert jiggled around and said, ‘Maybe you could let me in for just five minutes so that I can thaw out my feet and we can talk it over.’

‘OK, then,’ said Feely. The wind was slicing through the front door and the wind-chimes in the kitchen doorway were jangling as wildly as alarm bells. ‘Serenity . . . is that OK with you?’

‘Sure,’ said Serenity, without enthusiasm.

Robert stepped inside and Feely closed the door. ‘I didn’t see your car,’ said Feely.

‘I parked it round the corner, out of sight. You remember last night, when we had that minor contretemps with that truck? I don’t really want the truck company making any claims against my insurance. You know what it’s like.’

Without taking off his coat or his boots he headed directly for the fireplace and stood in front of it, with his hands outstretched. ‘I’ll tell you something, Feely, when I walked into the diner and saw that you were gone, I really thought that I was never going to see you again.’

Feely said, ‘I got talking to Serenity.’

‘That’s a beautiful name, Serenity. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.’

‘Oh, please,’ said Serenity.

‘I’m sorry, Serenity. But I’m a salesman by nature. That means that if something impresses me, I say so. If you took me to see the Mona Lisa, I wouldn’t just stand in front of it with my mouth hanging open. That’s not me. I don’t believe that we should repress our natural responses. I think it’s like some kind of illness. You have a beautiful name, don’t you, you can’t argue with that, I mean your parents thought of it, not you, but as it turns out you grew up to suit it, and if you think I’m being cheesy by saying so, then please accept my apology, but all I did was make a truthful honest comment.’

Serenity said nothing but sat back on the couch. She patted the cushion and Feely sat down next to her.

‘Incredible,’ said Robert, looking around the room. ‘Landed on your feet, then, Feely? New clothes! Look at you! Looks like you’ve taken a shower, too.’

‘Feely’s a very special person,’ said Serenity.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Robert. ‘That’s for sure.’

‘So, you’re headed north, too?’

‘I’m not really headed anywhere, to tell you the truth. But north is as good a direction as any, don’t you think?’

‘If you say so.’

‘Well, with respect, you don’t really understand what the hell I’m talking about. It’s only twelve days to Christmas and here I am, driving around Connecticut in a snowstorm, not really headed anywhere.’

‘I’m sorry, Robert,’ said Serenity. ‘What you’re doing and where you’re headed, that’s not my business. Added to that, I don’t majorly care.’

‘Sure,’ said Robert. ‘I understand. Why should I expect you to care? If we all went around caring what everybody else was doing, shit, we wouldn’t have the time to care for ourselves, would we?’

‘I’m not interested,’ Serenity retorted. ‘I only let you in because Feely wanted to let you in, but if you’ve warmed up now, you’re more than welcome to leave.’

Robert came away from the fire and hunkered down beside the couch, so close that Feely could smell the Jack Daniel’s on his breath, and the cigarette smoke on his coat, and his pungent socks.

‘People complain about racial prejudice, you know that? Blacks complain about it, Hispanics complain about it, Koreans complain about it. But do you know who suffers the most racial prejudice of all? The white middle-class white-collar male, that’s who suffers more than anybody else. You invited Feely into your home, right? Look at him. He’s Cuban. He’s young and he’s poor and he’s good-looking. He’s like a lost dog, so you feel sorry for him.

‘For all you know, Feely’s a crack addict, or he’s suffering from HIV. The chances are, both. But you don’t think about that. All you think is how cute he looks and how funny he talks. But me? One look at me and your hackles go up. White middle-class male. Ignore the fact that I’m statistically likely to be honest, and responsible, and caring, and church-going. Ignore the fact that I’m also a human being.

‘You don’t care that I’m driving around in a snowstorm twelve days before Christmas, with noplace to go? Why should you? I’m a white middle-class white-collar male, and I can look after myself, right, plus every other workshy bastard who’s living on welfare. I don’t need anybody’s sympathy. I don’t need a warm fire and anybody’s love, even when it’s twenty-five degrees below and all my friends have turned their backs on me and I can’t even afford a bed-and-breakfast.’

He stood up. ‘I screwed up, OK? I know I screwed up. But does that mean that I have to lose my two little girls, and my house, and my car, and all my possessions? I didn’t do anything, except I had carnal relations with another woman! That’s all I did! I cheated on my wife! That’s all! I would have got more respect if I had cut her head off!’

Serenity said, ‘OK. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.’

‘Well, like you said, it isn’t your affair.’

Robert went back to the fireplace and chafed his hands together. ‘I guess my blood’s started circulating again . . . if young Feely doesn’t want to come with me, I’d better hit the bricks. I’ve got miles to go before I sleep . . . many very necessary things to do.’

‘How about a drink?’ asked Serenity.

‘No, thanks. I reach this particular level of drunkenness when I drive like an angel. Any more and I start to get a little dangerous.’

‘OK,’ said Serenity.

There was a long silence. Robert stayed by the fireplace, still rubbing his hands. Serenity looked at Feely and Feely looked from Robert to Serenity and back again, as if he were waiting for one of them to say something.

‘Adios, then,’ said Serenity.

But Feely said, ‘Look—it’s snowing again.’

Serenity and Robert both turned to look out of the window. Feely was right. The snow was coming down thick and heavy.

‘You can’t drive in this,’ said Feely. ‘It’s far too aleatory.’

Robert went over to the window. ‘You’re right. It is pretty damned aleatory.’ He paused for a moment, and then he said, ‘Guess I’d better find myself a bed-and-breakfast. I don’t want to spend another night in the car.’

‘Oh, all right,’ said Serenity. ‘You can stay here until the snow eases up. But on two conditions.’

‘Anything.’

‘Condition one is, you go out and chop some more logs for the fire. Condition two is, when you’ve done that, you take a shower and change your clothes.’

‘Serenity, you’re a queen. I just hope that my daughters grow up to be like you.’

‘I’m an idiot. My parents would go Chucky if they knew.’

Robert picked up the framed photograph of Serenity’s dad and mom. ‘I don’t know. They look like good people to me.’