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“Hi? Billie?” he called out.
Billie? Is that how he should be talking to her?
He had no idea why, but he was concerned for her safety. Why? No one would want to hurt Billie Houston now, would they? Still, he felt what he felt. The real killers were out there somewhere. Why not here in New Jersey?
“Door’s open. C’mon in,” she called. “I’m out here on the porch.”
He went in through the kitchen and saw her setting a small dining table on the open front porch facing the ocean. Beautiful spot for dinner. Adirondack chairs spaced along the porch. A wicker rocker painted navy blue to match the shutters.
He could see the ocean over the top of the dunes and the constantly waving sea grass.
But his eyes went back to her. She had on a crisp white shirt with faded Levis, no shoes again. Her hair was clipped back in a ponytail. She’d put on a little lipstick, just a touch.
“Hi there. I thought that we’d eat out here. It’s not too cold for you, is it?” she asked with a wink.
Sampson stepped out onto a spacious wooden porch. The breeze was coming off the ocean, but it was comfortable on the porch. He could smell the ocean, but also sea lavender and asters in the air.
“It’s just about perfect,” he said. That was true. The temperature was just right, and so was the table she’d set, and the view of the ocean was definitely something else. There sure wasn’t anything like this in Southeast D.C.
“Let me do something to help,” he said.
“Good idea. You can chop vegetables and finish up the salad. Or you can cook on the grill.”
Sampson found himself smiling. “Not much of a choice there. I’ll do the salad. Nah, I’m kidding. I’d be happy to grill. Just as long as I don’t have to wear a hat or apron with a snappy slogan on it.”
She laughed. “Don’t have any of those. You passed a CD player on your way from the kitchen. I left a bunch of CDs out. Pick what you like.”
“This a test?” he asked.
Billie laughed again. “No, you already passed all your tests. That’s why I asked you to supper. Stop worrying about me and you. We won’t break. This is going to be fun. Better than you think.”
Chapter 55
SHE WAS RIGHT about the night being special. It embarrassed him, but he just about forgot Ellis Cooper for a few hours. Sampson was usually quiet unless he knew somebody pretty well. Part of it was shyness, because he’d always been so tall and stood out in every social group. But he was honest enough with himself to know he didn’t want to waste time on people who didn’t mean anything to him, and never would.
Billie was different and he knew it, from the first time she spoke to him. The surprising thing about her was that he liked hearing her talk about anything. Her daily routine in Mantoloking; her two grown children, Andrew, a freshman at Rutgers, Kari, a senior at Monmouth High; the ocean tides and how they affected surf casting for blues; half a dozen other things. In addition to the house-sitting, she still worked full-time as a nurse. She was in the Emergency Clinic and specialized in adult trauma. She’d flown in medevac helicopters to the larger trauma units in Newark and Philadelphia. Once upon a time, she’d even worked as a MASH unit nurse.
They didn’t discuss her husband until after dinner. Sampson brought the subject up again. It had gotten cooler, and they’d moved back into the living room. Billie started a fire, which was crackling and popping and warming things up inside.
“Do you mind if we talk about Laurence for a few more minutes?” he asked as they sat together on a small couch near the fire. “We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s fine, really. That’s why you came here.”
Suddenly, something caught Sampson’s eye. He rose up from the couch and walked to a glass case near the fireplace. He reached inside and took out a straw doll.
Now this was very strange. He examined it closely. He was sure that it was a replica of the one he’d seen in Ellis Cooper’s house. It scared him because it was in Billie’s house. What is the doll doing here?
“What is it?” she asked. “What is that creepy doll? I don’t remember seeing it before. Is something wrong? You look so serious suddenly.”
“I saw this same doll at Ellis Cooper’s house,” he admitted. “It’s from Vietnam. I saw lots of them in villages over there. Something about evil spirits and the dead. These dolls are bad medicine.”
She came over to the glass cabinet and stood beside him. “May I see, please?” She examined the straw doll and shook her head.
“It looks like something Laurence might have brought home, I suppose. A souvenir. Memento mori. I honestly don’t remember ever seeing it, though. Isn’t that strange. That reminds me — the other day I found a big, ugly eye in that same cabinet. It was so . . . evil, I tossed it.”
Sampson held her gaze. “Strange coincidence,” he said, shaking his head. He was thinking that Alex refused to believe in them, coincidences. “As far as you remember, your husband never mentioned Sergeant Ellis Cooper?” he asked.
Billie shook her head. She seemed a little spooked now. “No. He rarely talked about the war. He didn’t like it when he was there. He liked it even less once he came back and had time to think about his combat experience.”
