Free A Dinner to Die For by Susan Dunlap Page B

rub anything.”
    “I’ll be careful,” I assured him. “But we do need to be at the back door.”
    I waited while Raksen dusted the door handle, then called the rookie guarding the backyard to stand at the bottom of the stoop. I put Earth Man outside the door, even though the wind was blowing in our direction. Steeling myself, I said, “So you knocked on the door and Biekma opened it. How close were you to him? Show me. Pretend I’m Biekma.”
    “Come forward,” he said. I took a step. “More.” Holding my breath, I inched forward. “Closer.”
    “Are you sure?” I couldn’t imagine Biekma electing to be this near. Earth Man hadn’t smelled any better an hour ago.
    He grabbed my arms through the wool of his cape and pulled me forward. “This close.” My face was a foot from his. A beak pointed to my breast, a trunk to my waist.
    “Are you sure about this?”
    “He was yelling at me. His spit hit my face.”
    “Okay, then what happened?”
    “The cook yelled.”
    “Where was the cook?”
    “At the stove, there.” He pointed to the stove next to the sink on the outside wall.
    “What did she say?”
    “ ‘Shut up, Mitch. Take your soup and get out of my kitchen.’ That’s a quote,” he said proudly.
    “What did Mitch say?”
    It was a while before he admitted, “I don’t remember.”
    “Where were the other people while this was going on? The dishwasher?”
    “At the sink.” He pointed to the sink.
    “The sous -chef?”
    Earth Man looked puzzled.
    “The other man in the kitchen?”
    “Oh him, the stranger. He was at the chopping block, there by the refrigerator, when Mitch opened the door. But he caught on fast. He went back to the stove where the cook was. He stood next to her, like she was going to protect him. I guess he knew what Mitch was like.”
    “And Laura?”
    “Laura?” He smiled. “She was standing by that table there, by the door to the dining room.”
    “Are you saying no one was near you and Biekma?”
    He nodded. “No one wanted to be near him. I didn’t either.”
    “Then what happened?”
    “Laura told them both—Mitch and the cook—to stop screaming at each other, that they had to give me dinner. Mitch screamed some more, then he stomped out past her. Then she got a bowl and put some soup in it and then she broke up a couple of pieces of French bread in it, like croutons. Then she spread some Parmesan cheese over it. The cook yelled at her about the cheese, but the cheese smelled real good. When she gave me the soup, she said I could come back for more. I stood outside a while. I had to decide what I should do. Sometimes it takes me a while to think. I have to be careful, you see. I figured I’d better not eat on the stoop tonight. I didn’t want to sit in the backyard either, because the cook was so pushed out of shape about the soup and I didn’t want her to bring anything out to the garbage and find me there. So I thought I’d take the bowl out front and go down to that empty lot where the gas station used to be.” He shook his head. “That was a bad mistake.”
    “How so?”
    “Because I heard this groan—no, more like a grunt—in the front yard and I looked over. I thought my eyes were going. I almost didn’t stop, but then I looked again and …” he shrugged.
    “And?”
    “I came up to him. Biekma. He wasn’t moving. I almost lifted him up, but I’ve been in enough emergency rooms to know that you don’t move people. So I came to the door and pounded, and the cook opened it. She ran out. She looked at him and screamed. She didn’t do anything, she just stood there and screamed until people came running from inside, and someone lifted him off, and then two of them carried him inside.”
    “And then what did you do?”
    “I went around to the back door. See, I’d dropped my bowl.”
    I stared at Earth Man. Maybe I had been mislead by his seeming clarity. I said, “What made you think they’d feed you then, of all times?”
    His eyes