Donald Barton did not like my proposal, not one little bit. I thought we were going to have to knock him senseless in a quiet corner. Finally, the oldest woman employee, a white-headed stout lady dressed all in black, stopped by while he was arguing with me. She said, “Donald, if this lady wants to look for her brother, you must let her.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, with a lot of gratitude. “I appreciate it.”
Donald Barton wasn’t going to let us go by ourselves, though. First we toured the large ground-floor room normally used for the preparation of bodies. That room was full to capacity, held no one I recognized.
Like the first funeral home, Hutchison had parked the overflow in a detached building—their garage. Hearses had been pulled out, the bodies moved in.
Still grudgingly, Barton held open one of the wide doors. “If you don’t find your loved one here, we don’t have him,” he said with some satisfaction.
Eli thanked him. I couldn’t open my mouth.
These bodies were laid out in a less jumbled way, which was good. But each body had been covered with a sheet, which was going to make this take even longer. I was sagging on my feet.
I’d been just about praying Barton would leave us alone. Surely he had better things to do? But no. The man had decided it was his duty to draw away the cloth from each face in turn. It made me so aggravated I could hardly stop myself from smacking him. Maybe he hated Eli’s grigori vest. Maybe he thought I deserved to faint right by the bodies.
I could not oblige. I am not that good at pretending.
Rogelio was not among the dead (a relief and a puzzle), but we found Jake, finally. He was still clothed. “Mr. Barton, this is my brother Jake,” I said, and I didn’t have to act being sad. “I need to take the contents of his pockets to my parents.” I looked at him expectantly.
Barton was trying to think of a reason not to help me. But he couldn’t come up with one. He carefully checked every single garment, handing each item he found to Eli.
Jake had much more money than I’d expected. It was a miracle no one had looted him. There were some receipts, too, looked like.
I said, “Mr. Barton, please check Jake’s boots. He had the habit of stowing things there.”
Barton looked disgusted, but he couldn’t think of a reason to deny us the boots. Those were not bloody at all.
“You were right,” Eli said to me after Barton silently handed him two items. There’d been an envelope in Jake’s right boot and a knife in Jake’s left.
Even if the envelope held a love letter from Jake’s boyfriend, we were to the good. Never hurts to have an extra knife.
Eli slid the money into one of his pockets, all the scraps of paper (including the envelope) in another. We would wait to read those. I hoped I’d get the answers to some questions.
“Mr. Barton, thanks so much,” I said. “I’ll let my family know, and they’ll be in touch about what to do with the body. This body is Jake Tutwiler’s.”
“Ma’am, they’d better call or wire soon,” Donald Barton advised me as he wrote Jake’s name in a little notebook. He tore out the page and tucked it in Jake’s shirt pocket, protruding a little. “You can tell this place has to be emptied out quick.”
“I understand.” I let Eli lead me away. I even leaned against him.
“I need to telegraph his boyfriend,” I said, once we were out of earshot. “Maddy said she introduced them, so she’ll be able to tell me how to do that. Why didn’t I get his name while we were at the hospital? I have to find out what happened to Rogelio. And I need to find that Ritter and Seeley.”
“We’ll do all of that, but not right now,” Eli said. “We need to eat a real meal, and we have to sleep.”
“I haven’t got much of an appetite.”
“Me either, but we need to eat, anyway.”
The dining room of our hotel was not yet ready for dinner, but they were able to bring us some soup and bread. Soup was not what I would have picked, considering the weather, but when it came I was glad of it. I needed the chicken and the vegetables, and the biscuits that came with it were real good. And the cold sweet tea. With ice. That was best of all.
In twenty minutes we were going slowly up the stairs, and then we were in our room. I was really, really glad to be away from the crowd. The whole day had bruised me, body and spirit.
I began unbuttoning my blouse, and then paused. Was it all right to undress in front of Eli? Was it right to assume we were comfortable with each other? Would he assume we were back on that footing?
At this moment I decided I just didn’t care. Without casting a glance his way, I took off my new clothes, hanging them and shaking them out, giving the underwear a quick rinse in the bathroom sink when I went in to wash my face and put on my nightgown. I had not had a nightgown since I was a child, and this one was real pretty, but I wasn’t in a mood to be pleased about it.
Though it was still light outside, Eli had drawn the curtains to dim the room. I pulled a string to make the fan turn. It whirred in a pleasant way, making just enough noise to blur the voices on the stairs and out the window. The minute I lay down, it all sounded far away. I felt the mattress move as Eli crawled in beside me.
“Go to sleep. We’re safe,” he said.
I took him at his word.
CHAPTER NINE
When I woke, early light was coming in around the curtains. I could just make out the outlines of the furniture. It was as cool as it was going to get. I slid out of bed and padded quietly into the bathroom, easing the door shut behind me. I bathed, and as I toweled off I thought, I should get dressed now.
I just couldn’t face all those underpinnings and a frock on top of it all. I pulled the nightgown over my head again. It was very thin and light. I climbed back into bed, trying to be stealthy, hoping I could sleep some more.
The sheet was pulled up to Eli’s waist. His broad shoulders were bare, and I could see all his tattoos. He’d added one since our trip. His braid had come undone, so his light hair was spread across his pillow. I had forgotten how lovely he was without his clothes. You thought he was gawky until he was naked. Then you could see how well he was put together.
I couldn’t help but remember another hotel room in Mexico. I pulled the sheet up a little and settled my head on my pillow. I told myself, real strictly, to sleep.
But it turned out Eli was awake too, and he had other ideas. He slid my way a couple of inches and put his arm around me. Then he left it up to me.
He was good about that.
It wasn’t much of a decision. The minute I’d seen Eli at the train wreck, I’d felt restless.
(I’d told myself not to assume Eli would feel the same way. I’d told myself that in Mexico, we’d been on the edge of dying every minute, which makes you ready to enjoy something, anything.)
After thinking all this, which took one shake of a lamb’s tail, I turned on my side to face Eli. That was all the encouragement he needed. He began working the nightgown up, his hands reacquainting themselves with me, and we kissed about a hundred times. To my astonishment, he said, “I missed you, Lizbeth,” so intently I couldn’t doubt he meant it.
It started out sleepy and tender, like a gentle reunion. But it turned into… forceful and exciting. I forgot how sore and bruised I was. Eli was really glad to be inside me, even with a condom on. He said “Lizbeth” in a hoarse, deep voice, like it was torn from inside him. He had strength and stamina. “Now,” he said, in the same voice. And that excited me so much I took off into my big moment, right before his. My body jerked, like it had a mind of its own, and I had to clamp my teeth over a moan. It seemed to last a long time, pleasure after pleasure.