by Mark Stone
“I’m not making any promises,” I said, already feeling my resolve start to melt a little.
“I would never expect you to,” she said. “The party's at seven thirty. You don’t have to bring anything, but I wouldn’t say no to some finger sandwiches and buffalo wings. You know, if the mood strikes you.”
“You really are the worst,” I said, stifling a grin.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “But I’m the best at it.”
With that, Jules turned on her heel, walking away from me in a standard female lifeguard bathing suit that looked anything but standard on her.
“Were you just going to stand at my door or were you planning on actually coming inside?” Miller’s voice asked from behind me. Turning, I realized I had been watching Jules leave for quite some time now.
“I was just getting ready to now,” I told Miller, plastering on an exaggerated smile.
“Get ready quicker,” Miller said, turning and heading back into his office, leaving the door open for me to follow. “You and I have a lot to talk about. None of it is good.”
I walked in and found a woman sitting in Miller’s office. She was dressed in more layers of clothing than I was used to seeing, given the fact that I spent most of my time at the beach.
Wearing jeans, black boots, a brown shirt, and a denim jacket, the woman stood to meet me. As she did so, I noticed she had a gun on her hip and a star badge on her belt.
“Lieutenant Lifeguard Danny Chase, meet Detective Abigail Browning,” Miller said.
“Detective?” I asked, eyeing the woman up and down as I shook her hand.
“Yeah,” Miller said as he sat down at his desk. “I told you it wasn’t good.”
3
“Exactly how ‘not good’ is this?” I asked, letting go of the woman’s hand and looking over at Miller.
“That depends on your comfort level with certain things, Mr. Chase,” Abigail said, pulling my attention back to her. Looking at the woman, it occurred to me that she couldn’t have been a day over thirty, and she was a small thing, much more petite than I’d have imagined a detective needed to be.
“You can call me Danny,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her. “And exactly what sort of things are you talking about, Detective Browning?”
“I’m only Detective Browning if you piss me off. For now, I’ll just be Abby,” she said.
“For now?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.
“Exactly what kind of training do you have, Danny?” Abby asked, ignoring my question completely.
“All of our personnel are trained rigorously,” Miller said. “We take safety very seriously here on Hollywood Beach, and I don’t have to tell you that law and order are a big part of safety.”
“I appreciate the assist, Miller,” I said, not breaking eye contact with Abby, “but I can speak for myself. I busted my ass to get a position on this beach. I don’t know if it’s television or movies or just a lack of imagination, but for some reason, people think pimply faced teenagers with bottles of sunscreen and whistles hanging around their necks can do this job. That’s not how it works, Abby. There isn’t a place on this planet more dangerous than the ocean. It’s endless and temperamental, and you can’t live in it. Every day, thousands of people come here willingly and throw themselves into the most dangerous place on this planet. As you can imagine, things don’t always go smoothly. I went to the sort of bootcamp that the Army would nod their heads in approval at. I passed every sort of tortuous physical exam imaginable, and once I was on this beach, I didn't stop. I didn’t sit back. I didn’t rest on my laurels and assume I was good enough. I kept working. I kept learning. I hit the gym six times a week and watched hundreds of hours of rescue footage. And I did all of that, not to be noticed or to gain some kind of recognition, but because when a man swims out too far and has a heart attack or a woman realizes she’s not in control of her surfboard anymore and the current’s got her, they need me to be at my best. Otherwise, they die. So, yeah, I’ve trained at this like anyone would train a vocation they were passionate about. I gave it everything I have, and when I was done, I found more, and I gave it that too.” I nodded at the woman. “I hope that answers your question.”
Abby looked at me for a long moment, the hint of a smile starting at the edges of her lips. “It more than answers it, Danny,” she said.
“Good,” I said. “Because I have a couple of questions for you.”
“You want to know what I’m doing here and what business I have with you,” she said, basically reading my mind.
“I do,” I confirmed.
“It has to do with the woman you saved today, Gina Russell,” Abby said.
“The mayor’s daughter?” I asked. “This again?” Shaking my head, I moved over and took a seat in front of Miller’s desk. “I don’t know what to tell you. I was just doing my job.”
“And a good job you did,” Abby said, sitting atop the desk in front of me and looking at me with eyes that were as gray as a stormy sky. “So good, in fact, that we’d like it to continue.”
I blinked hard, looking at the woman, confused by the statement. “Are you under the impression that I was going to quit my job after today?” I asked. “Trust me, I’m not. You let Ms. Russell know that should she decide to come back to our beach, she'll be guarded every bit as fervently as she was today.”
“That’s not really what I mean,” Abby said. “You see, the problem with Gina is that she wasn’t guarded fervently enough.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, sitting up straighter in my chair. “Is she okay? Did something happen after the EMTs took her away?”
“She’s fine,” Abby said. “It’s not you that we’ve had trouble with. It’s her specifically, and the situation she’s found herself in.”
“I’m gonna need more information than that,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.
“When she was brought to the hospital, doctors found heavy doses of sedatives in her system,” Abby said.
“She’s taking drugs?” I asked.
“Not purposefully,” Abby said. “At least, we don’t believe so. We think Gina Russell was drugged at your beach today in an attempt to kill her and make that killing look like an accident.”
“My God,” I muttered, honestly shocked. “What would make you think that?”
“Because this isn’t the first time an attempt has been made on her life, Danny,” Abby said. “In fact, for the past three weeks, Ms. Russell has had around-the-clock police supervision everywhere she goes. Perks of being the mayor’s daughter, I suppose.”
“Doesn’t look like the police were doing a very good job, no offense. Who was her escort today?” I asked.
“I was,” Abby said, folding her arms over her chest.
“Oh,” I muttered. “Well, like I said, no offense.”
“Gina Russell is, to put it mildly, a troublemaker. She’s self-destructive and has a taste for a wild way of living that not only doesn’t mesh well with her father’s public image but it also puts her in more than a little bit of danger. One would think that adding a potential assassin to the mix would be enough of an impetus to convince the woman to settle down a bit.” Abby shook her head. “One would be wrong. That woman makes every attempt to evade our protection and continues to place herself in harmful and dangerous situations. Our resources and patience with her are completely exhausted, as is the mayor’s.”
“That’s a sad story, but I’m curious as to what it has to do with me,” I admitted.
“Ideally, the answer would be nothing,” Abby said. “Of course, ideally, no one would be trying to kill Gina Russell, or she would be more cooperative with our efforts to keep her safe. As it turns out, what happened on your beach today might have been enough to make that change for her.”
“So, you’re here to thank me?” I asked, narrowing my eyes again.
“Oh, you’ll be thanked. The mayor can be very generous with those who are useful to him. Of course, he can also be quit
e demanding, and that’s where you find yourself now.”
“He wants something from me?” I asked.
“He wants you to keep doing what you did today,” Abby said. “He wants you to keep protecting his daughter.”
“What?” I asked.
“Gina has shown interest in allowing you to keep tabs on her,” Abby replied. “She’s promised to cooperate so long as you’re the one dealing with her directly.”
“Why me?” I asked, standing up.
“Who knows?” Abby responded, shrugging. “Maybe she’s grateful to you for saving her, maybe she thinks you’re good at what you do, or maybe she just thought you were cute while you were pressing your lips against hers.”
I scoffed. “That was mouth to mouth. I was hardly trying to look cute.”
“Whatever the reason, she’s suggested it and the mayor is in need of your services. He’d like to meet with you tonight and talk things over.”
“I . . . I have a job,” I said, looking over at Miller, whose face was expressionless.
“Your beach has generously offered to allow you something of a sabbatical for the time being,” Abby said as Miller's face remained expressionless.
“You’re selling me out?” I asked, my eyes getting wider. “What did he promise you if you allowed me to become a glorified babysitter? Better funding, higher paychecks? What’d you get for me?”
“Danny, it’s not like that,” Miller said. “You didn’t lie when you said you were good at what you do, and what you do is keep people safe.”
“On a beach, Miller!” I yelled.
“And now you can do it at a bar or in a movie theater,” he said. “Look, it’s just temporary, and she’s in trouble. If you’re the only one she’ll let help her, then don’t you have something of an obligation to do that?”
“It’s not my fault if she’s unreasonable,” I said.
“Is that what you’re going to tell yourself if she dies?” Miller asked. He stared at me for a long moment. He knew he had me.
“Dammit,” I murmured. “Fine, if the mayor wants to meet with me, I’ll meet with him. But it’s just to talk. I’m not making any promises.”
“That’s fair. That’s all he asks,” Abby said. “He’ll see you tonight at nine at the mayor’s mansion.” She looked me up and down. “And try to wear something nice if you can.”
“Nice?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Abby said. “It’s a party.”
4
“I still don’t know why I needed to come with you,” Riley said, running his hands through his feathered blond hair and looking to the end of the long, winding driveway up to the huge white house sitting at the end of it. Every light in the considerable house was on a bright beacon calling in the many, many partygoers. “I mean, I’m not complaining. Lord knows, I never turn down a party, and in a place like this, who knows what sort of rich divorcee is looking for a boy toy to shower with gifts and vacations?”
“That’s not why I brought you here,” I said, my hands in my pockets as I kept pace with Riley, walking toward the mayor’s mansion with all the speed of someone who absolutely didn’t want to be here.
“Yeah, I know. You brought me here because you needed a wingman, not to mention a decent pair of shoes,” Riley said, looking down at the loafers on my feet, leather shoes I borrowed from him not two hours ago. “I don’t get what kind of grown man doesn't have a pair of dress shoes.”
“The kind that spends ninety percent of his waking hours with his toes in the sand,” I answered. “I’m always at the beach, Riley. If it’s not water shoes or sandals, I don’t really have any need for them.”
“If that’s true, you wouldn’t have needed to borrow mine,” he said. “Thank God we have the same shoe size.”
“I’ve got a lot of stuff to thank God for. That’s gonna be at the end of the list,” I muttered. “Seriously, though, I appreciate your coming.”
To be completely honest with myself, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure why I wanted Riley with me tonight. I hadn’t told him the real reason I was here. Abby made sure to let me know that everything we had talked about was not to be shared before she left, and even if she hadn’t, I didn’t feel like bringing Riley into this mess was the best idea. He had never been the discrete type. Still, he had a good heart, and he was as loyal as your favorite dog. Maybe that's why I wanted him here tonight. I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to face here, and it felt good to know that someone here had my back.
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Riley said. “I should honestly be thanking you. I always imagine that if I ever met the mayor, it would be after I accidentally burned a building down or something stupid like that. I certainly didn’t figure it would be because my friend is a damned hero.” He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed it. “I should have, though, seeing as how you’ve always been my hero.” He put his head on my shoulder as if to mock me and the statement he just said.
“Shut up, you idiot,” I muttered, shrugging him off me.
“Whatever you say,” he said, chuckling as we neared the mansion. “Honestly, though, you’ve got to admit that I was right now.”
“Right about what?” I asked as we stepped onto the front porch.
“You said that nothing would come of saving the mayor’s daughter. You said it wasn’t a big deal or anything,” Riley reminded me. “I, on the other hand, told you that we were going to see big things out of this.” As he spoke, we stepped inside the mayor’s mansion. The first set of eyes I connected with were Abby’s. She glared at me with so many things left unspoken. “I guess we know who’s right now.”
“I guess we do,” I said, swallowing hard and thinking about the real reason I was here. “I guess we do. Will you excuse me?”
“What?” Riley asked. “We just got here. You’re already gonna leave me?”
“I’m doing you a favor,” I said. “If some rich divorcee sees us both standing there, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“You wish,” Riley said as I walked away.
The mayor’s mansion was a ridiculously nice house with a sunken living room, a back wall that was composed almost entirely of windows, and a baby grand piano sitting in the marble section of the foyer. To say it was the nicest house I’d ever been in was a statement that didn’t give it nearly enough credit. This place was money, the sort of money that I had never seen and honestly didn’t really care to. Rich was nice and all, but money wasn’t nearly as important as happy. I was a man who loved my job, loved my friends, loved the place I lived, and couldn’t wait to wake up in the morning. I’d say that there wasn’t a rich bastard in this room who was even half as happy as I was, and I preferred that to the green stuff any day.
Making a beeline for Abby, I plucked a glass of champagne from a platter carried by a very snooty looking waiter who didn’t even look at me as I passed.
Abby wore a white dress with a slit up the side that revealed her leg all the way up to her thigh. Her hair was curled at the ends and her face was touched with the sort of makeup you’re not really supposed to notice. Still, her eyes were the same stormy gray they had been earlier today, and they were just as intense.
“Some party,” I said, settling next to her and taking a sip of champagne. It had never been my drink of choice. It was far too pretentious, and any drink that had the weight of every life milestone and celebration on it could never live up to the hype. I was more of a beer guy, whiskey in a pinch. Still, when you’re in Rome, you do as the Romans do, and when you’re in over your head at the mayor’s mansion after a long day at work, you drink the bubbly.
“It is,” Abby replied, taking a drink herself. “I don’t remember telling you that you could bring a plus one.” She nodded over at Riley, who was already chatting up some forty-something woman with a diamond necklace around her neck the size of a small SUV.
“Don’t remember you saying I couldn’t,” I said, shrugging.
“That’s not how that works, but I’m
not really in the mood to fight you, so I’ll let it slide,” Abby said. “We need to get to the mayor and have a talk, but first, I need to show you something.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, swiping a pig in a blanket from another one of the waiters as they passed by. This one didn’t look at me either.
We started walking, and as we did, I couldn’t help but notice just how at ease Abby seemed to be here. I had to imagine this wasn’t her first time at a party like this, and she certainly didn’t seem as out of place here as I had to.
“When I was a kid, all I ever wanted was to be inside a house like this, sipping champagne like this, and eating stupid appetizers that I wouldn’t even look at if I passed them in the freezer section of a grocery store,” Rachel said as if she could peer into my mind just a little.
“Guess it’s always nice to have your dreams come true,” I said, shrugging at her.
“Yeah,” she muttered. “This isn’t exactly what I thought it was going to be. When you’re young, especially when you grow up like we did, you kind of paint pictures in your mind. You look at the big house on the hill and assume the people in it must be happy. You assume they must be better than you and their lives must be better than the one you’re forced to live.”
“I get that,” I said, honestly a little surprised that she was opening up like this. Maybe it was the champagne.
“They’re not, though. These people, the ones who grew up with silver spoons in their mouths and up their asses, they don’t have any character. They don’t have anything that’s worth anything . . . aside from the money, of course.”
“You’re generalizing,” I said.
“And you’re new,” she answered quickly. “You haven’t been around these people. You don’t know what they’re capable of, what all of them are capable of.”
“Fair enough,” I said, conceding the point even though I still didn’t think it was correct. “You said we.”