” He did not complete the threat.
Beatty shot a hurried glance behind Robert DeLord. What he evidently saw in the faces of the MPs was enough to know that they would not support him. They had come for their prisoner on his information but they didn’t think very much of Police Officer Beatty.
Beatty backed out of the house, his angry eyes and set lantern jaw boding no good for me. I didn’t care.
Turtle was ready and he was marched out of the house, eyes front. Beatty stood to one side of the stoep to watch Turtle positioned between the two MPs in the back of th$ jeep. DeLord gripped my arm, gave me a reassuring squeeze.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ve got some talking to do to Colonel Calderone. Tell Laird I’ll see about the gun’s issue, too.” The lieutenant squinted down the road anxiously. “He ought to be back soon. Don’t worry, honey.”
I stood helplessly as he, too, climbed into the jeep. I watched as the wheels spun in the snow, as it turned and slid up the road. Then I realized Beatty’s car was still there and he was standing near me.
“I said get out.”
“All your protectors are gone now, girlie,” he laughed nastily, striding back up the stoep.
A vicious snarl at my side caught him midstep and he backed hastily, his eyes wide. Merlin stood there, spread-legged, snarling, no question of his intention. I don’t know if Beatty would have drawn the gun he started for. I think he would have and Merlin might have died in the attempt but Beatty would, also. But Regan Laird, his jeep skidding to a snow-spraying stop, changed the odds in our favor.
“I’ll be back, girlie,” Beatty warned me again and walked quickly to his car while Laird watched from his jeep. Once certain Beatty was on his way out of Pull-in Point, the major jockeyed the jeep up into the garage. He slammed out of the car and to me on the double.
Despite his ferocious attitude, Merlin was barely able to stand, his side bleeding from exertion. I supported him as best I could until Regan Laird reached us and tenderly lifted the dog up.
“Whatinhell happened, Carlysle? Why were DeLord and Bailey in an MP jeep?” he asked as he gently pressed new gauze pads on Merlin’s bleeding side.
I explained as lucidly as I could, trying to control both temper and tears although I was so stunned by the rapid succession of events I didn’t think I was making much sense.
“They arrested Turtle and DeLord went with him to see what he could do. Said he had something to explain to the C.O.”
“Beatty’s favorite reading always was government mail posters. I guess he’d added AWOL notices as his part of the war effort.”
I stared stupidly at the major. “But they arrested Turtle for attempted homicide .”
“Whose?”
“Warren’s.”
He didn’t seemed surprised at the victim.
“That explains the AWOL then. I thought Master Sergeant Edward Bailey had changed character. The regiment always meant as much to him as it did to your father.” Accidentally he pressed too hard against Merlin’s side and the dog let out a cry, turning his head to lick the major’s hand as if he realized the hurt was unintentional. Laird stroked the dog’s ears apologetically. “I wish that vet would come. He’s torn open the sutures DeLord made.”
I knelt beside Merlin, stroking the muzzle he immediately buried into my lap.
“But what I don’t understand, Major, is how they could know Turtle shot Warren?”
The major rocked back on his heels, looking me squarely, in the eyes.
“Warren could have seen Bailey aim at him. To be honest, Carlysle, I knocked Bailey’s gun up once when he’d a bead on Warren.”
“Oh, no.”
“It was just after your father’s death when we had moved up on Setterich. Bailey and I were the only ones that knew your father had been killed by a forty-five slug. Bailey had been bitter enough at Warren when Emsh got killed and he took the colonel’s death very hard. I thought he’d go out of his mind when DeLord came in with your dad. Christ, the heart went out of all the men. Bailey acted as if Warren were the Jonah for everything, from the losses of the Third Battalion at Bois de Collette to the beetfieids right up to and including your father’s death. But I checked Warren’s side arm myself and it wasn’t even clean, much less fired recently.”
The major’s eyes turned cold and bleak.
“I myself find it very hard to forgive Warren a few things. D’you know, he actually tried to assume command the next morning after we got back from the cemetery? Oldest in grade, logical choice. Ha! I got through to Division and Gerhardt and scotched that.”
I don’t think I heard all he had been saying. I was so torn by the despair that had driven Turtle, in loyalty to his colonel, to desertion and attempted homicide. And his apprehension.
“How could Turtle get back here to the States? He had no travel orders or .”
Laird gave a mirthless chuckle. “After twenty-eight years in the army do you think a little thing like proper travel orders would stop Bailey? He probably forged them. And did a good job, too, I’ll bet.”
“It’s awful, it’s just awful,” I muttered hopelessly. I felt limp, bereft, numbed, not even angry anymore.
He took me by the shoulders, only this time he held me gently and bent over to look in my face.
“I think I’d rather have you ranting and raving than woebegone like this, Carlysle,” he said quietly. He tipped my head back, his eyes searching my face. “Damn it, girl, I can’t keep on buoying you up with booze and knocking you out with seconal.” He shook his head slowly from side to side. “But you’ve been clobbered good and often. As a guardian I’m doing one helluva poor job of it. Whereas you, short of mucking about with my socks,” his voice quickened, “and, young lady, don’t ever let me catch you doing that again; a laundress I don’t need.” He sounded forceful. “Is that straight?” and he gave my chin a punch. I jerked my head away.
“Yeah.” His manner demanded an answer.
“As I said, you’ve been doing a pretty good job of taking care of me. Now, I brought in supplies and I think the best thing that could happen to what’s left of this squad is to feed it. Right? I did go after coffee and food before this latest skirmish.”
He paused at the door.
“C’mon, Carlysle. Lend a hand.”
He said it in a way that precluded disobedience. My legs moved of their own volition and I followed him out to the jeep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Regan Laird was right to get me busy with the mechanics of daily routine. We fetched in the groceries and put them away. I noticed numbly that he had found Idaho baking potatoes and this put me in mind of Robert DeLord and his mission. I put that out of my mind and washed and put the potatoes in to bake. I made a hearty meat loaf, vaguely wondering at all the stamps such a generous amount had taken. The major had brought in fresh cod and flounder but I was tired of fish. There were some fresh vegetables and oranges. I didn’t examine the canned goods closely, except the dogfood.
“I didn’t have much choice for Merlin,” the major said apologetically.
“I know.”
We were both marking time until DeLord got back. I wondered idly, anything to think about but DeLord and
I wondered why Evans had been so certain a vet would come to this point off the coast of nowhere for any dog, much less a civilian’s. The major busied himself by bringing in more and more wood and spending lots of time policing the fireplaces. I made beds and straightened rooms, pretending that Turtle’s belonged to someone else. Then, as darkness was falling on the snow-bright world, there was no more busy work to be done. I sat down at the kitchen table near my dog and folded my hands in my lap.