“Well if there`s one thing I`ve learned, it`s that a Harry Dryden gut feeling should never be ignored. So I`ll track down Arnie, get him back to L.A. What the hell happens after that, God only knows.”
“All I can ask, Jessica. And if anything breaks with the senator, like this Namibian woman turning up, I`ll have you guys back here to discuss what it means. Meantime, you be careful out there. This one has danger written all over it.”
“These days, which of your investigations don`t, Harry.”
CHAPTER 2
Arnie Krench had been cruising the back roads of Utah for several weeks and had parked up on a high point overlooking a snaky part of the Colorado River. He was tinkering with the Harley, it`s carburettor needing a tweak as the altitude had changed the engine`s sweetness. To him the bike was a big part of his life, a faithful colleague, and always to be respected.
Having stripped down a few parts, cleaned out the jets and made a few calibrated adjustments, he tightened the last bolt with a degree of gentleness that was just the right side of exact. It was an approach he carried beyond his technical expertise. His life`s philosophy was based on it, his conduct towards people fashioned from that same degree of respect.
He swung his right leg over the well worn leather seat pad, gripped the handlebars with exactly the right tension, cranked up the engine and sat for a moment, admiring the magnificent scenery before him. With the early evening sun beginning to dip, it`s bottom curve close to touching the horizon and changing the hue of the sandstone cliffs to a magenta red, he took off, the Harley`s wheels spitting away some dust and small stones.
Within a couple of miles he felt the buzz of the cell-phone in the back pocket of his Levis and pulled over. Taking out the cell, he glanced at the caller ID and killed the engine then stared at the screen for a few moments as he let the memories flood back.
Twenty seven miles further south and nearing the Utah border, the warm wind of the Arizona plains beckoned him as the temperature changed, removing the slight chill in the air. He rolled to the top of a small hill and stopped, then once again checked the text from Jessica, looked to the horizon and felt a stab of emotion.
He contemplated calling her but something made him hesitate, a niggling sensation convincing him to wait, think it over. He knew what her request meant, and he knew that if she needed him then he`d be there for her. Never one to act without thinking, the decision, when it came, would be one he believed to be right, and if the consequences turned out bad, at least it wouldn`t be because of an impulsive move. That was the Arnie Krench way.
With Jessica still at the forefront of his mind he travelled the darkening dessert highway, crossing the Arizona border on Highway 163 towards Kayenta, where he turned west and then onto his favourite back-roads until he came to the first town.
It was a non-descript kind of place, looking to be down on its luck, its main drag the usual assortment of tattoo parlours, bars and closed down stores. Catching sight of a motel sign at the far end, he dropped his speed to almost a crawl as tiredness set in, a shake of his head helping to clear the drowsiness.
Within seconds his tiredness had vanished. From the corner of a side-street the screams hit him first, followed by the sight of a big guy beating on a woman who was pinned against a pick-up truck. Screeching to a halt, Arnie spun off his Harley, laid it on the ground then jumped the bully, dragging him away from his battered victim. Though he wanted to hit the guy, he didn`t, choosing instead to stand back and order the man to back off. It was a move doomed to failure. After the guy, who was taller and broader than Arnie, had launched two wild punches, there was only going to be one outcome. Arnie`s clunker of a fist connected squarely with the guy`s jaw and a well aimed kick to the groin felled him, a scream indicating the man was done.
“You okay?” Arnie asked, as he turned to the woman.
“Not really,” she replied, with a wince. “But thanks for your help. Now you better get out of here, I can hear the cops coming.”
Turning around, Arnie saw a police cruiser, blue and red lights flashing, take the corner at the end of the street and head towards them. Picking his Harley up from the ground he pushed it forward to the stopped patrol car that had skidded to a halt in front of him. Aware of the adrenaline rushing through his body, he deliberately slowed his speech as he spoke to the lone officer, who was halfway out the car, right hand on his holstered gun.
“Assault on this woman, officer. Guy on the ground was beating on her. I pulled over and stopped him.”
“Stand away from your bike, sir,” the cop said, his young face trying to portray authority.
Arnie obeyed, stepping back and parking the Harley on its stand. Now he heard the bully shout at the cop. “That sonofabitch attacked me. Arrest his ass, officer. I want him charged with assault.”
As the officer turned back to Arnie, he put the question to him, his tone aggressive. “That right, mister, you attack this man?”
Arnie laughed. “No way officer, other way round. This lying-assed woman hitter was the one doing the assaulting. Just look at her bruises and the blood on her lip.”
Now the cop looked closely at the woman, whose swollen eyes suggested intelligence, though her general appearance was a little ragged, as if she was struggling with an alcohol or drug problem. “That right, miss?”
The hesitation that followed was a dead giveaway and Arnie knew it meant trouble. The woman`s eyes turned towards the assailant, who had hauled himself up from the ground, face full of rage. “We were having an argument and this biker guy stopped to make sure I was okay,” she said. “Least I guess that`s why he stopped.”
Now the assailant tried to intervene but the attempt was cut short by the officer. “You don`t speak until I tell you mister, got that? And who are you anyway, her boyfriend?”
“That`s right officer. She`s my girl.”
“Really?” the officer said. “Don`t look like it to me.”
“We got our troubles, is all.”
“Troubles you solve with violence. That your way, tough guy?”
“Look, this crazy Harley dude rolls into town, playing it all cool in his biker boots, blue jeans and snazzy bandana, thinking he can do what he wants. He beat on me for nothing, officer.”
Turning back to the woman, the officer took a step forward. “I`m asking you one more time miss, is that right?”
She hesitated again and threw a glance at her boyfriend. “Yeah, he beat on my guy.”
Arnie stared at her, seeing the fear in her eyes before she folded her arms across her chest and looked at the ground. “Come on, lady,” he pleaded, “you know he swung at me first, and that I was here to stop him adding to the cuts and bruises on your face. You know I saw him hit you, hit you bad. Tell the officer the truth.”
As he said it, Arnie already knew that she wouldn`t. And as if to confirm it, the bully now chipped in with a repeat of his original demand.
“See officer, it`s like I told you. I want him charged with assault.”
“Thought I told you to shut your cowardly mouth,” the officer said.
Taking a set of cuffs from his belt the officer pushed his shoulders back and raised himself to his full height, which was a couple inches short of Arnie`s six foot one. “Turn around mister,” he said to Arnie, “you`re under arrest.”
“You kidding? This ain`t right officer,” Arnie said, staring at the woman. “Tell him lady, tell him what really happened!”
In the silence that followed, his back turned and with handcuffs snapped on, Arnie looked to the sky then quietly cursed. He never cared about what any good deed cost him, never needed thanking; but on this main drag in a hick town whose name he didn`t even know, that reflection was of little comfort. His predicament being unjust was one thing, but now a darker thought entered his mind, a consequence that worried him even more. As a young boy he had been locked overnight in a small d
isused workshop that had no windows; it was a prank by older kids that had left him with a phobia. When he was let out the next day, blinking into the sunlight, his whole body shook. The fear which that incident instilled in him had never gone away, and tonight the dread felt no different.
As the officer pushed him into the back of the patrol car, Arnie turned to take one more look at the woman, whose arms were still folded as she shuffled away from her boyfriend. Suddenly stopping, she raised her head, swollen eyes now blazing as she shouted across to the officer, “No! Let him go. It`s true, just like he said, he stopped to help me.”
Ignoring the glare of her boyfriend she stepped right up to the officer. “I`ve had enough of this piece of shit beating on me, so can you give me a ride, officer?”
“Sure, lady. Let me get the cuffs off this guy first. You want me to arrest your boyfriend?”
“No. He`s a moron, and as of now no longer in my life.”
“So you`re done with him?”
“I`m done alright, officer. Don`t you worry about that.”
As the cuffs came off Arnie and he stepped from the patrol car, he engaged with the woman with only a look, their mutual thanks silently expressed.
Just before midnight, approaching the outskirts of Flagstaff and looking for the road signs that pointed west on Interstate 40, Arnie was enjoying his sense of freedom more than usual. But in amongst his thoughts was one that kept pushing its way to the front. Jessica Hahn`s text meant another assignment; and he also knew it meant not just a considerable challenge, but complications of a more personal nature. Los Angeles was still over four hundred miles away and he knew many of those miles would include a vision of her and a re-running of their past history together. What it would all lead to was the burning question, one he had faced before. This time round he hoped it would turn out to have a better answer.
By the time he reached Kingman, tiredness was getting to him, any thoughts of riding through the night all the way to L.A. now banished. He needed a bed for the night, and in the morning, a fresh start towards that unknown future. It was a challenge he had met many times, but Jessica being back in his life made this one special. Special and dangerous.
CHAPTER 3
Jessica knew it would be sensible to explain the nature of the investigation and instruct Arnie over the phone with regard to his first task. It would save time and money. But having not seen him in over eighteen months, that just wasn`t going to happen. Though presuming Arnie would see this initial meeting as strictly business, she had booked a same day Seattle to L.A. return flight, a move designed to keep any temptation t at bay.
Twice they had ended up in a passionate affair and twice they`d both run from it. They had flown too high, too fast the first time, but the second time round was different. The passion had still been there and the commitment, yet still they parted. Hesitantly at first, then more completely after Arnie returned to his career at the Justice Department.
That Jessica couldn`t adjust to life in L.A. was a major factor. But soon other things began to emerge, things she hadn`t known about herself. And when Arnie chucked his job at Justice, Jessica, still struggling with her journalistic career, began to seek assignments back in Seattle. Before long she was spending more time there than with Arnie, who in turn was spending more time with his Harley. It was a slow drift that had them hanging on as best they could, but the passage of time had finally driven them apart.
Now they were going to be back together, on assignment, a professional arrangement. And although both knew the depth of their attraction would always be there, they also knew that on a dangerous investigation personal relationships were not only a distraction but inclined to influence the outcome. But acknowledging that truth was one thing, sticking to it quite another.
So when Arnie picked Jessica up at L.A. International, his Harley waiting in the parking lot, a degree of caution was evident as they approached each other.
“Been way too long,” Jessica said, stopping a few feet away and avoiding an embrace.
Arnie felt relieved that the decision had clearly been made for him and responded with his usual smile. “Looking good, Jess. Like always.”
“We Harleying?” she said, putting on her sun glasses.
“Sure are. Only transport I`ve got.”
“Good. So where do we hold this meeting?”
“I figured Malibu. Be like old times. You okay with that?”
“A cruise up Route 1, wind in my hair, to your favourite beach- bar? Lead me to it, biker man.”
The surfer bar & grill hadn`t changed a bit Jessica thought as she took her seat at a window table that Arnie had booked in advance. The rustic décor of wooden slatted walls were still adorned with fishing nets and other marine articles, the chunky teak chairs and tables the same, the ambience as laid back as ever. And outside, beyond the deck that was supported by stilts, little sandpipers still raced the waves up and down the beach, picking at the deposited seaweed, food provided by a gently rolling Pacific.
“Love this place, Arnie.”
“Never found anywhere better, Jess.”
“Not surprised, pretty much as good as it gets.”
“Real biker`s tan you`ve got going there,” she said.
“You know me, Jess, every chance I get to fire up the Harley.”
“So still no return to the Justice Department?”
“Not a chance. Me and authority never got along. How about you? Still free-lancing?”
“Journalism is a tough gig these days, especially when your track record shows you were fired from a big newspaper.”
“That was a real bad deal, no doubt about it. You were a class act, Jess, always will be, so it`s their loss.”
She took a swig of chilled Chardonnay then smiled at him. “We we`re quite a pair, you and I. Both of us rebels in our own way and I guess that`s why Harry always used us for tricky assignments. Why he wants us together on this one.”
“So what`s he got hold of this time?”
“A long shot as usual. Might as well tell you up front, there`s not much to go on.”
“First up, hope we not talking Honduras or Panama like the last one?”
“Nope.”
“But?”
“But there is a foreign connection.”
“Which is?”
Now she paused. “Namibia.”
“Where the hell`s that? Africa?”
“Yeah. South east.”
“No way, Jess”
“Figured that. But we won`t be going there. Don`t need to. This is all Stateside.”
“Where then?”
“First off, your backyard. The place I never liked, L.A.”
“To do what?”
“Look up your old connections at Justice and get a line into the L.A.P.D. We need the detective running a case on two guys, each in their sixties, gunned down in a park. Did you read about it?”
“Don`t read newspapers these days. So no I didn`t.”
“Mistaken identity drive-by. But evidently it wasn`t.”
“We know that or just suspect it?”
“Suspect it. What else would you expect from Harry? But it`s still the same deal, we`re chasing a story not solving a crime.”
“A dangerous story!”
“Most of the good ones are.”
“Still the same Jessica. Fearless and tenacious.”
“We survived the last two assignments didn`t we. And they were crazy dangerous.”
He took a slug of his beer. “And the Namibia connection?”
“Vague. We don`t know what the link is. But we think the killings could have been a hit.”
“A hit? Why?”
“Word from Namibia.”
“And Harry trusts it?”
“Came via Senator Claibourne, so yeah, he thinks we`ve got something here.�
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“Well, nobody ever came out tops by challenging Harry`s judgement. And I owe him, owe him big time. Picked me up when I was down.”
“Me and you both, Arnie. He`s older now, but still sharp. And still the best newspaper man I`m ever likely to meet.”
“So you want me to kick this thing off in L.A. Just me?”
“If I go with you we`ll get squat. Cops don`t open up for journalists like me.”
”Okay, I know a couple of detectives at L.A.P.D., so I`ll call in a favour, see what shakes loose. I`m guessing we`ve no other leads?”
“None.”
“So what makes you think the L.A.P.D. will have a lead for us? The case will already be closed if it was a drive-by. Won`t waste their time on it.”
“That`s where you come in. Find a thread to pull that nobody knows is there.”
He smiled at her, that sensual grin, the one that always sent a tingle down her spine. As he turned to look at the advancing waiter she took a moment to study him, noticing that apart from his brown hair being shorter and with only a hint of gray at the sides, he looked the same. A few light wrinkle lines round the eyes, much like her own, and still a face more about character than good looks. As he glanced at her while ordering from the waiter, she turned away and bunched her auburn hair into a ponytail, sensing that he was looking at her like he used to.
Once the waiter had left, she finished off her wine and felt a light flush creep into her cheeks.
“I`ve ordered you another,” Arnie said, “figured it was too early for bourbon. You still like that stuff?”
“That was my shouting at the moon phase, when I missed you the most.”
“It was a tough time and I didn`t handle it well. I`m sorry about that.”
Surprised by the remark, she couldn`t find a reply as a slight wave of emotion struck her.
“But we sure did light up our lives for a while,” Arnie continued. “Had some great times together.”
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