Free The Girl in White Pajamas by Chris Birdy Page A

when Bogie was three years old. Bogie told the judge that it would be disrespectful to his dead mother to change his name. Without glancing at Baxter or Elizabeth McGruder, Bogie knew they were glaring at him and wanted to kill him. He maintained his sincere expression, the one he used when he was an altar boy back on the South Side of Pittsburgh a million years earlier. The judge ruled that for family continuity, his last name would be changed to McGruder and he could keep his first name.
    He knew the old man would punch him in the back as soon as they went down the courthouse steps, and Baxter McGruder did not disappoint him. It wasn’t the first time his father beat him and wouldn’t be the last.
    Elizabeth McGruder, when she called him anything, took to calling him ‘Bog–dune’ believing it sounded more WASPish than a Hunky sounding name like Boghdun ‘Boogh–down’. Since they both had blue eyes, people who were not aware of the family dynamics believed that Bogie was her natural born son since her own two children had their father’s brown eyes.
    Now as the last male McGruder he was expected to deal with all the family crap when he wasn’t really part of the family.
    Bogie was about to ring the bell to Elizabeth McGruder’s brownstone when he heard a car brake in front of the house. The vehicles behind it in the heavy traffic beeped their horns. Bogie turned around and watched as Randy Carpenter, wearing a wool peacoat, got out of a yellow cab carrying a duffle in one hand and holding the top hook of a garment bag with the other. Bogie’s first thought was that at least Randy, unlike Amanda, remembered to bring a garment bag. They looked at each other expressionless. Finally, Randy said, “If it makes you feel any better, take a swing at me!”
    The corner of Bogie’s mouth twitched before he said, “It wouldn’t do a thing for me, but if it would make you feel any better I’ll be glad to oblige.”
    Deflated, Randy said, “I’m sorry. It got out of hand.”
    Bogie nodded once. “I didn’t walk out there to fight with you. I only wanted to remind you to treat my daughter with respect.” When he saw the relief on Randy’s face, he added, “But I only remind someone once.”
    “I do respect her. I love her. I…should have said something sooner. Can I speak to her?” Randy asked.
    Bogie shook his head as they walked through the front door. He pointed at Randy while speaking to James. “This is Amanda’s…friend.”
    While James smiled and shook Randy’s hand, Bogie continued, “She’s not here. She’s out shopping with Rose.”
    Randy set his luggage down next to Bogie’s and sighed. He knew only too well that a shopping trip with Aunt Rose insured that Amanda would come home with new outrageously overpriced clothes.
    Bogie, Randy Carpenter, James and Trudie sat around the kitchen table while Randy wolfed down three large pieces of the coffee cake with two cups of black coffee. He told the old couple how he moved in with his father a year and half earlier when he got a job with the Palm Beach Sheriff’s Office. “There was nothing going on in Ohio. More factories were closed than open. Guys I went to high school with are still working two or three minimum wage jobs just to make ends meet. My mom’s been a hairdresser as long as I remember, and she said she’s bringing home half of what she used to. Customers don’t come in as often and tips are way down. I called my dad and asked him to keep his eyes open for any job openings in Florida. I was lucky to get the job with the PBSO; but, you know, after a while you understand why it’s called a job.”
    Bogie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like working in law enforcement?”
    Randy shrugged. “If I could just do my job and go home, it would be great. But there are all these politics and back stabbing and crap going on.”
    The side of Bogie’s mouth twitched. “You think that’s the only place where that happens? No matter where