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117: Encounters
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2021-04-20 15:16:40“What are you thinking about, darling?”
With her eyes following a young family with three children, the eldest about Peter’s age and the rest younger, she smiled as she answered, “All the people here in costume. The children I expected, but so many adults are costumed too. It adds a great deal to the carnival atmosphere on the last day.”
Among the children, the cowboys and cops, princesses and angels were always popular. But many children had drawn inspiration from events of the year and Elecktro-style robots giggled with Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion. Frank Buck-style jungle explorers jitterbugged with giant jungle cats, and clowns with comic book heroes.
Her silvery-blue eyes lingered on an obviously well-to-do couple dressed in bright and wildly colored, sequined and feathered Venetian style costumes with oddly grotesque and appealing masks—his a black and gold, curly-horned, laughing skull, and hers a magnificently plumed, long
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“What makes you think it has my name on it?” Andrew asked, staring down his straight narrow nose at his wife, but her attention was diverted down the midway towards the crowds and noise. “Seems a familiar style,” Evelyn replied grimly. With an annoyed huff, she started towards the bench and the envelope that had been left by the colorful and mysterious harlequin. The entire circumstance had lost its glamor for her. There was nothing loving or romantic about lies. Nothing proud or noble about secrets. Not even ones purportedly to protect somebody you love. Miranda Stiles was her aunt, for pity’s sake. Her aunt who had looked her in the face countless times at the Trust and never uttered a single kind word. Who’d been willing to let her plummet to her death with Russell James. The more she dwelled on it, the more it infuriated her. All of them infuriated her. She’d have gladly signed away her right to every penny of the money in Glorietta Moreno’s California bank account for the s
Last Updated : 2021-04-22World of Tomorrow 119: All Saint's Day
The autumn chill awakened Evelyn even before Andrew’s alarm. Lifting herself up so she could see over him, she glanced at the faintly illuminated face of his clock and groaned. Another hour, perhaps more before the apartment would start to warm up. While his residence was far less drafty than hers had been, she missed her small fireplaces. It had been nice to supplement the building’s giant Octopus coal furnace’s heat for her apartment, and in particular, for her bedroom, and to any extent she desired, as long as she had the firewood. The extra blanket she’d pulled over the footboard from the bench to heap on top of her during the night wasn’t enough to ward off the uncomfortable cold this morning, and sadly, it was only going to get worse. Andrew generated a delightful amount of heat with his masculine metabolism, but in general, she slept too warm for him, and during the night he’d retreat to his side of the bed, often with only the sheet to cover him. Assuming he
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The final preparations in advance of the movers clearing Evelyn’s small cold-water flat seemed to spark a renewed awareness and an intensified enthusiasm for packing and planning. Not merely in Evelyn and, by default, Andrew, but also in the children, Mary and Tank, and even Justin and Lily. Which was fortunate, as Evelyn discovered upon arriving at her apartment after she’d spoken to Mickey on Wednesday morning. With only an urgent need and no real design in mind for how to clear her own apartment, Lily with Justin’s help had simply moved anything she didn’t intend to throw away into Evelyn’s apartment across the hall. While they had done a marginal amount of packing—including emptying shelves and cupboards into boxes still standing opened and scattered absolutely everywhere—they’d added exponentially to the chaos by cramming the entirety of Lily’s meager belongings haphazardly into Evelyn’s. It followed then that instead of spending her mornings and early afternoon
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With an exasperated huff and a muttered curse, Andrew jerked his head down the stairs and towards the older apartment's lobby. “Let’s go then, Officer Morgan, if you’re going.”At his urging, Evelyn took the remaining steps to the ground level while he pulled on his coat and then followed. She didn’t resist when he cupped her elbow, steering her past the wall of tenant mailboxes near the lobby door and the short flight of external stairs that would take them to the street level. While she was disappointed to be denied even this brief bit of normality and time alone with Andrew, she could hardly fault Will Morgan for his staunch dedication to the duties assigned him.Perhaps he was a bit over-zealous. After all, since Edward Montero's death over the summer, there'd been little else of any threat. Sure, strange people and stories had surfaced, but even the contact from Miranda Stiles hadn't been dangerous. And she had to admit, the poor fell
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“Oh! There you are!” Mary exclaimed as Will shoved his way around the door to Evelyn’s fourth floor apartment, each arm laden with a brown paper sack of groceries. “We were beginning to—what on earth happened!?”With Andrew supporting her, Evelyn limped her way into the tiny kitchen of her apartment. Before she could even pull out a chair to sit down, the rest of her ‘guests’ came flooding in to see what the hullaballoo was about. Besides Mickey and Tank, she was fairly certain she saw every other tenant residing in the building standing on tiptoe and bobbing left and right, trying to get a look at her.“Ladies,” Andrew pushed further into the room, arms wide and herding them backwards into what had formerly been her living room, “if you please. We just need a few minutes to get settled, then if you’ve all haggled to your heart’s content, we’ll get started moving furniture.”
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With all the windows in the entire apartment thrown open wide to let in the cool night air, Evelyn slumped on the edge of a windowsill. Nearby, an exhausted Mary occupied the dressing table’s stool. Through the kitchen, they heard the return of Andrew, Will and Tank. “We did this wrong,” an exhausted Will said around his hard panting breaths as they entered the former living room in search of the two women. Andrew chuckled mirthlessly, crossing the mostly empty room to perch on the windowsill beside his wife. “Oh, now you tell me.” “Yeah,” Will continued, easing himself to the recently swept and mopped floor, then laying out, spread-eagle, with a low groan. “The stuff that had to go the furthest, we should have taken first. While we were fresh.” “I don’t know. I still think taking the stuff that was heaviest first was a wise move.” Lifting Mary, Tank took the dressing table stool then pulled her onto his lap in an intimate, possessive way. “Th
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Tossing the folded piece of paper on the table, Detective Kelly pivoted and faced the two plain-clothes policemen. “Get her out of here.” “How dare you!” Andrew’s chair tipped backwards onto the floor with a loud smack as he vaulted to his feet and began shoving at the men attempting to arrest his wife. “I’ll have your badge for this!” “Mr. James, I can assure you if you don’t get out of the way, we’ll add resisting arrest to the extensive list of charges your wife is facing,” Detective Kelly surged into the fray of struggling men. “Maybe we’ll take you downtown too for aiding and abetting.” “The hell you will! Who do you think gave you that information!? Surely, you can’t be this idiotic! Why would we give you something that incriminated either of us!?” Still struggling to hold off the three men, the larger Andrew snarled, infuriated, “Get your hands off of my wife!” While Evelyn cringed over the table, frantically trying to scrape the papers they’d
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“Peter!” The shout was accompanied by loud clapping, as if somehow this would encourage some sort of hustle in the boy who loathed the onset of winter weather almost as much as Evelyn did. “Come on, kid! Get a move on or we’ll be late.” With a patient sigh, Evelyn pushed one of the folded mirrors on her dressing table to an angle where she could see Andrew buttoning his shirt behind her. “It’s far too early for it to be this busy in this two-bedroom apartment,” she groused. “He’s talking to a six-year-old boy about getting ready for school, not offering rousing locker room coaching to an entire football team after a bad first half.” Andrew tipped his head back and laughed heartily. “I hadn’t realized it was making you so moody, darling,” he managed once he’d reigned in his mirth. I’ll talk to him this morning about keeping his encouragement to a more manageable volume, but quite frankly, I’m content to tolerate a few loud mornings rather than have to
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World of Tomorrow 139: Epilogue
“Stop, Peter!” Sarah exclaimed, whirling to face behind her. She shot her brother an angry glare. “Peter, for pity’s sake, don’t throw dirt clods at your sister,” Andrew called over his shoulder, shifting his swaddled, sleeping son from his right shoulder to his left as they walked the long, tree-lined drive that led to the James’ estate, perched with its back on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Gulls rode the ocean updrafts in the afternoon sun above the glistening water, occasionally diving when something of interest caught their eye. On the opposite side of the tree-lined drive, his wife’s tiny orchard of glossy-leaved oranges in full bloom left a sweet scent drifting over the drive on the warm, salty breeze off the sea. Not far away, Evelyn's gated garden was growing lush with upright stalks of corn, twined in the loving arms of pole beans with the wide leaves of squash spreading in a carpet at their feet along the ground in one row. In another, her tomatoes were already d
World of Tomorrow 138: Sound and Fury
“M-ma-ma.” The stuttering word was an alarming half-sob and half-gurgle from the wounded Becky. “M-ma-m-ma.” Dear God! Whoever it was had shot her! That poor, helpless girl! Why!? She wasn’t a threat! And there was absolutely nothing here of any value! Evelyn’s heart leapt to her throat and hammered painfully. But she stayed close to the wall, inching forward on tiptoe to clutch at Andrew’s jacket. She pointed to the floor where their shadows fell long across it from the single overhead lamp in the middle of the room. If they drew too close to the door, their shadows would be visible to the intruder in the darkened hall leading to the bedrooms. She pointed to the window, and Andrew jerked his chin towards it in acknowledgement. Escape. They had to escape. Outside, on the sidewalk, they could summon the patrolling police officer. They could summon help. Men trained for this. Men with other guns. They had to move fast. Miranda’s daughter needed them. Even above the scuffling noises fr
World of Tomorrow 137: Miranda's Story
Andrew rose slowly to his feet, an antagonized muscle twitching along his clean-shaven jaw. His expression looked like a bomb about to explode. Evelyn drew a sudden breath, one hand clapping over her mouth. She stared, in turns, first at Will, then at Miranda, and her mind whirled. What was it Alexander Lowell had said the day that Detective Kelly had attempted to arrest her? The same day he’d later resigned from the police department. Something about the detective being fed what he needed to lay an accusation upon Evelyn. The question of ‘why’ anyone cared about a lowly former secretary enough to attempt to kill her, let alone invest the effort in framing her was growing more convoluted by the minute. But it was clear it was centered here, with the account belonging to Glorietta Moreno and her rights as an heir to it. “It’s a stretch,” Andrew said softly, nodding towards Miranda, “but I can see why your mother might have had Russell’s name on that account. N
World of Tomorrow 136: Doors
“You folks just planning on waiting?” their cabbie asked, his dark eyes studying Andrew and Will in the rearview mirror, despite that Evelyn was seated between them. “Meter’s running. Makes no never mind to me if you do, but I’ll have to circle the block or the flatfoots will cite me.” “How long do we have to decide?” Andrew asked, reluctant to have the cab move on the off chance that they might miss Miranda's departure for work during the process. “’Nother minute or two at most.” “Thank you.” He shifted slightly on the cab’s rear seat so he could better see his companions. “I know we’re early, but if she’s keeping business hours, I’d have expected she’d have to allow time to travel to a workplace. You’re certain this is the building, Will?” “It’s the place,” he replied definitively. “I can go in and wait. Tail her to wherever she’s going, then come get you.” “Is it possible she recognized you yesterday?” Evelyn asked, peering through the murk
World of Tomorrow 135: Plan of Attack
The dancing had worked like a charm. For a couple of hours. Andrew had managed to get just shy of another couple hours on top of that, burning time off the afternoon by alternating between listening to the orchestra rehearse, dancing, and finally, by slipping a bribe to the broadcasting staff to show Evelyn their equipment set-up and to take their sweet time about it. After that, she’d become too fretful to do much beyond distractedly, which had quickly spoiled the ballroom option for both of them. They’d retired to their drawing room, taken afternoon tea, then Evelyn’s pacing had begun again in earnest. He had to admit, watching her as she combed through her drying hair at the dressing table, it might be time to worry about Will a little. It was going on eight o’clock. Late by any business standard, but certainly well past the time when most diners catering to the kind of clients they’d seen at the DeBaliviere Diner and Waffle House would be visiting
World of Tomorrow 134: As Luck Would Have It
Wednesday morning in St. Louis dawned dark and gloomy and only marginally better than it had been upon their arrival early afternoon on Monday. When Evelyn emerged from the bedroom into the drawing room where he and the constantly-moving Will waited, Andrew flicked the newspaper he’d been reading down and smiled. They’d all slept poorly—again. They’d all woken late—again—and after their enjoyable brunch yesterday, both men were eager to see what other offerings were available in the East Lounge’s dining area. “Well?” she asked, her red-tinged and particle-irritated eyes roving the drawing room’s lush furnishings, immediately spotting the unmistakable coating of fine black powder and ash. “Are we trapped inside again today? It seems faintly better.” Will snorted. “By comparison to yesterday, being buried in black sand would seem better.” Andrew chuckled, setting aside the St. Louis Star-Times he’d been reading. He rifled through a stack of newspapers o
World of Tomorrow 133: Black Tuesday
The hotel’s ballroom was a gently baroque style. Its elegant space was replete with all manner of luxuries one would expect of a high-profile hotel, no matter where one might visit in the world—custom paneled with artfully etched-mirror and plaster walls, gold-leafed accents and intricate crown moldings. Above the near-magical dancefloor, which was lit from below, hung in the decorative ceiling, a ponderous crystal chandelier lit the warm wooden dancefloor beneath it. Along the periphery, undulating balconies supported by Corinthian pilasters gave an air of classicism to the space, but one not overly staid. These generous galleries provided seating for those who had only come for a meal, to watch the dancing or to listen to the orchestra. They’d dressed for a late dinner, but though the orchestra played, their music broadcast exactly as Evelyn had always dreamed of experiencing, she and Andrew hadn’t danced. In fact, they hadn’t stayed much longer than
World of Tomorrow 132: Miserable Monday
“The Coronado was built, and I believe is now run, by Preston Bradshaw,” Andrew advised more than an hour later as their cab pulled away from the curb at the train depot. “He graduated from Columbia with my brother, Russell. The two were quite good friends as I recall. My father introduced him to Stanford White in New York City where he worked before returning to St. Louis. He’s responsible for the monumental hotels on Lindell Boulevard. The Melbourne and the Coronado at midtown and the theatre district. And opposite, near the Central West end, the Chase and the Forest Park hotels were also his commissions.” “Did you know him?” Evelyn asked, closing her burning eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. “Is that why we’re staying at the Coronado?” She left unspoken the reminder that the Coronado Hotel, in particular the hotel’s famed Caprice Club, was where they’d found Charlotte to serve Andrew’s divorce paperwork after their tip-off from the Princes in Los Angeles.
World of Tomorrow 131: Arrival
The following morning Evelyn woke alone. She could tell by the way his belongings were packed that Andrew had already risen. If she was any guess, he was taking advantage of the train’s onboard barber, which meant she had time to bathe and dress without his typical morning enthusiasm for both processes. Selecting a warm dress from her traveling case, she draped her clothing over the empty towel rack in the bathroom and rooted through her toiletries for her toothbrush and toothpowder. When she was done, she hung a fresh towel on the rack nearest the shower beside the still-damp one Andrew had used and stepped under the spray. The warm shower felt delightful and soothed the telltale soreness from her bedroom exertions with her husband the night before. Once she’d washed, she stood with the warm spray draining off of her and for the first time since they’d come, wondered what they were going to do in St. Louis. They had only the name of a diner and a hotel off t
