Free Come Back Dead by Terence Faherty

Ella had just moved the publicist’s right hand upward from the small of her back where it had strayed. The big hand strayed even farther down when she released it. Ella was trying to push herself clear of Shepard as I handed my drink to Traynor. I reached them just as the grinning Shepard blocked Ella’s openhanded left cross by grabbing her wrist. I grabbed his in turn and squeezed it until he let Ella go.
    â€œExcuse us,” I said to her as I twisted Shepard’s arm around behind his back. All I heard of her reply was my name.
    Shepard was facing the double doors of the kitchen, conveniently enough. I shoved him forward, and we passed harmlessly through the intervening dancers as though Hermes Pan himself had choreographed our exit. Shepard stretched out his free arm to push open the swinging doors, almost decking a Chinese waiter with a tray of little sandwiches. The waiter smiled broadly as we passed him.
    When the doors swung shut, I could hear Shepard addressing me. “Will you listen to me, Elliott? Let go of my goddamn arm and listen to me.”
    I looked around for the exit that Drury had used on the night he’d snookered Errol Flynn, but I couldn’t find it. Meanwhile, the kitchen staff–more Chinese–were taking a lively interest in us. I spotted another swinging door and pushed Shepard through it. We ended up in a walk-in pantry lined with shelves of cans and boxes. It was only five feet wide and ten feet deep, but that was big enough for my purposes.
    I gave Shepard a shove toward the far end of the closet and released his arm. He twisted around to face me, still talking a blue streak.
    â€œGet out of my way, Elliott. I’m warning you. You lay another hand on me, and you’ll hear some things you’d rather not know.”
    â€œLike what, for example?”
    Shepard looked smug and said nothing.
    â€œThings about my wife?”
    The smug look became a sneer.
    â€œLike she slept with a few soldiers she felt sorry for during the war?” I asked. “Like she fell to pieces inside when her brother was killed in France? That she was so deadened by it that after the war she’d wander home with any man who came along, even a heel like you?”
    Shepard had paled steadily as I’d squandered his bargaining chips. I stepped forward, nice guy that I was, to catch him if he fainted. He took advantage of my good nature and threw a right, telegraphing his plan with a nervous glance at my idle left hand. With that kind of notice, I could have blocked the punch in my sleep. Awake I did even better, hitting Shepard square on the chin and driving him into the loaded shelves behind him.
    In a movie the shelves would have collapsed, showering the publicist’s blond head with noisy odds and ends and maybe even a bag of flour as a topper. I had to make do with Shepard collapsing in his own little heap, the collar of his tuxedo jacket up around his droopy ears.
    Ella was waiting for me outside the kitchen doors. She didn’t look the least bit concerned for my safety, I was flattered to see. No one else took any notice of my return or Shepard’s absence. Certainly the musicians didn’t. They were laying into “Stardust” like they held the copyright.
    â€œLet’s dance,” I said.
    â€œI promised the next one to your friend from Indiana,” Ella said. “But now that he’s seen the way you cut in, he’ll probably give up his turn.”
    â€œThat’ll save you from hearing about Traynorville,” I said, taking her in my arms.
    â€œHearing more about Traynorville, you mean,” Ella said.
    We began to move to the music, but not in our old, easy way.
    â€œI can handle guys like Hank Shepard,” Ella said. She’d meant her delivery to be matter-of-fact, I thought, but it came out sounding tired.
    â€œJust like I can tie a bow tie,” I said. “Only being an old married guy, I don’t have