Mouth open, Tom stared as Niles asked, “Mia knew it was a meth lab and told the police on her own dad?”
Nodding her head slowly, Scarlet said, “Yep. While our brownie leader was talking with Mrs. Sumner, Mia walked up to the craft table and solemnly informed us it was time to earn real badges that made a difference. Twelve confused little girls looked down at their badge-covered vests, and Mia was asked to leave. A week later, Mia’s mother received a letter in the mail stating, despite the fact its organization was founded in nineteen fourteen, they strived to keep up with the times, but had to draw the line at drug busting becoming an earned achievement.”
“Okay,” Niles conceded, “I like her a little more now.” Smiling, he added, “Despite the short skirts and hooker earrings.”
Rubbing Niles’ arm, Scarlet said, “She’s had a hard life. The short skirts were just a phase; she’s more into tie die and bangles now.”
Three friends picked up their walking pace before Tom asked, “Did you tell her about Gary?”
Scarlet pulled a face. “No. Mostly because I want to forget about him myself.”
Turning a corner and coming across the conservatory of flowers, Niles said, “James is still interested, he called me early in the day on Christmas Eve.”
Frowning, Scarlet enquired, “David Bowie?”
“Yes, but remember we need to stop referring to him as Bowie. James told me you called him David and I managed to feign surprise.”
Momentarily reliving that embarrassment, Scarlet said, “There is no way he’s interested. He practically ran out of my house.”
“Only because the police made him,” Niles replied matter-of-factly.
Scarlet felt an unexpected rush of excitement. “What do you mean?”
“He had two horses in your driveway,” Niles explained. “The police said they had to be moved right away; it was against city ordinance or something.”
Tom gave a wistful sigh. “How romantic. He wanted to surprise you with a ride on the beach.”
“Did he say that?” Scarlet asked, blushing.
“Yes,” Niles replied. “He had a picnic and everything. You were headed to Fort Funston for the day. But, when he saw what turmoil you were in, he felt bad for getting in the way. Plus, the order to remove the horses, post haste, didn’t help.”
Tom, equipped with a playful scowl, said, “Niles and I have a theory, the handsome black detective wanted James out of the way so he could have you all to himself.”
Blushing, for the second time in five minutes, Scarlet stared at her sneakers. “What absolute nonsense!”
Feeling content, despite the irony, Scarlet smiled as the maître d’ led Niles, Tom, and herself to a table in the corner of the rotunda. As she’d pessimistically predicted, there were no tables affording views of Union Square available.
A discussion commenced on the history and splendor of the restaurant. Enthusiastic appreciation followed with the arrival of elaborately displayed sandwiches and cakes. Suddenly becoming serious, Tom cautioned, “If you think this, in any way, shape or form, makes up for your deception young lady, I assure you it does not.”
Raising his eyes upwards, Niles looked at Tom and asked, “Is that Ivy League speak for, we’re still not over it?”
Returning her cup to its saucer, Scarlet attempted to explain, “You were on the other side of the country. Impossible for you to help at the time and needless for me to worry you afterward.”
His face crumpling, Tom enquired, “What do you think he would have done to you?”
Glaring at his partner, Niles said, “Impossible for her to know and sick of you to ask.”
Looking affronted, Tom selected a miniature cake. “This is the most wonderful Christmas gift, thank you, Scarlet.”
Niles added his sincere thanks. Scarlet dismissed it as nothing before volunteering, “Fortunately, he had priors, so will do serious time. Detective Smyth said rapists often start with verbal assaults and it keeps escalating from there.”
Tom gave a dramatic shiver. “And poor old Gary was just looking for that long-lost excitement of his youth.”
Setting a sandwich down that had been halfway to his mouth, Niles asked, “What is wrong with you today? Could we attach some kind of filter to your mouth?”
Coming to Tom’s defense, Scarlet said, “To be fair, the Gary story is hilarious. I’ve given him a full pardon, only because I’m so relieved he didn’t want to murder me.”
Niles refilled three teacups. “Healthy attitude Scar, but Tom and I aren’t leaving town again until they catch this guy.”
Tom, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, leaned in, conspiratorially. “Tell us again, how well the soap and sock worked.”
Laughing, Scarlet thanked Tom for the hundredth time, as he appeared to never tire of it.
“I had gained such momentum, walking down the corridor with the swing and whack motion, when he grabbed my ankle, my arm continued on its own volition.”
Grinning excitedly, Tom suggested, “We should get a shadow box for the sock and soap. We can have it engraved: Here lie the weapons that saved Scarlet Oaks.”
Niles arched his eyebrows. “I’m surprised, Tom. I would have thought you’d want your name mentioned.”
Leaning closer towards Scarlet, Tom, through barely parted lips, said, “My name and involvement would be on the back.”
A fun filled hour later, Scarlet signaled the waiter for their check.
The beckoned young man placed two hands on his white, starched apron. “Your friend took care of the bill. He said he hoped you enjoyed it.”
“Niles,” Scarlet reproached with a scowl.
Raising arms in the air, Niles said, “Don’t look at me.”
Scarlet and Niles both eyed Tom.
Shaking his head, Tom asked, “Why would I steal Scarlet’s Christmas gift thunder?”
The waiter smiled when three faces turned expectantly to him. “It was the gentleman over there.”
Following the direction of his hand, all they saw was an empty table.
“Oh, he must have just left,” the waiter said apologetically. Focusing on the remaining sandwiches and cakes, he asked, “May I get you a box for these?”
Tom and Niles looked at Scarlet, who, with her face drained of color, stared at the empty table, a short distance from theirs.
Standing, Tom said, “We’re not done here; more tea would be nice.” As the waiter nodded, Tom placed a hand on his shoulder and motioned towards the restaurant’s entrance. “A word if I may.”
Scarlet transferred her gaze from the empty table to Niles but still appeared incapable of speech.
Opening his wallet, Niles retrieved a card, then, placing a hand over Scarlet’s, dialed Detective Smyth’s number.
“Detective Smyth, this is Niles Remmy. Where the hell are your surveillance guys?”
In a slightly less accusatory tone, he explained the situation and gave the detective their location.
Before Niles had a chance to relay the conversation to Scarlet, Tom returned to the table. “Our waiter’s on shift for another two hours. I informed him, somewhat, of our situation. He’ll be over in ten minutes to give us a full description of the guy.”
Niles squeezed Scarlet’s trembling fingers. “Perfect. Smyth said he’s only five minutes away, so the waiter will only have to describe him once.”
Finding her voice, Scarlet asked, “How is this happening? How does he always know exactly where I am? Why aren’t the surveillance guys spotting him?”
Niles clenched his teeth. “The police are going to answer all those questions. This is ridiculous. Their job is to keep you safe. I’m seriously losing my sense of humor now.”
The gentle hum of chatter, from neighboring tables, filled the room as three friends sat in relative silence. Newfound alertness had them spotting Detective Smyth the second he strode purposefully into the restaurant.
Moments later their, now nervous looking, waiter approached the ta
ble accompanied by Detective Smyth.
“Miss Oaks,” the detective said by way of a greeting. Nodding at Niles and Tom, he continued, “Mr. Remmy, Mr. Blythe, this is Carl Winters.”
At the detective’s instruction, Carl, sat down.
“I’m so sorry. People are usually happy when someone else picks up their tab.”
Pen poised, Smyth said, “Please tell us exactly what the man said to you.”
Wiping hands down the length of his apron covered thighs, the young waiter began,
“He said he wanted to take care of the table with the young woman. It sorta confused me for a moment, ’cos he didn’t mention the two guys with her. I was looking for a table with just a lady, and there wasn’t one.”
Looking up from his pad, Detective Smyth enquired, “But he definitely meant this table?”
Carl nodded, “Yeah, ’cos I made him be more specific. I said, the lady with long dark hair sitting next to the dude with blondish hair? He confirmed this was the table and said the lady had helped him with a problem.”
Wanting to scream, what did he look like? Scarlet forced patience while the Detective asked, “Do you remember if he came in before or after my friends here?”
“It was after,” Carl replied with certainty. “I know because Todd begged me to take him. It’s Todd’s section, but he’d cleared his other tables and was just about to take off when in walks this guy. I agreed ’cos it was only one cover and Todd’s girlfriend’s leaving for New Zealand tomorrow.”
“That was very nice of you,” the detective said soothingly. “How would you describe this man, Carl? Take a minute to picture him sitting at that table and then outline his features for me.”
“His features,” Carl repeated. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “Like how big his nose was?”
Scarlet, imagining Smyth suspected the man had been wearing the same wig he’d worn in Aptos, listened intently as Carl said, “It was a regular nose, not big and not small. He kinda reminded me of a Viking.”
“A Viking?” the detective echoed in question. “Why was that?”
Carl’s right hand made a circular motion around his chin. “He had a big red beard. It almost looked too big for his face, and by the time he paid, half his scone was stuck in it.”
“Could it have been a fake beard?” the detective asked.
Carl shrugged, “I guess it coulda been, but it sort of
matched his hair.”
Smyth wrote something on his pad. “Did he have a lot of hair?”
The waiter shook his head. “Nah, it was pretty thin on top.”
Nodding, Smyth asked, “Do you remember the color of his eyes, Carl?”
“Yeah, like I said, he looked like a Viking. Didn’t they kinda have reddish hair and light blue eyes?”
Smyth responded, “Yes, I believe they did.”
Once it was confirmed that, as suspected, the Viking look-alike had paid with cash, Carl, receiving sincere thanks, resumed waiting tables.
Preempting Niles’ wrath, Smyth volunteered, “Mr. Remmy, I think I can imagine what you want to say to me right now and you have every right. But, please allow me to firstly apologize on behalf of my team.”
Looking over at Scarlet and then back to Smyth, Niles enquired, “How many strikes should your team be afforded, Detective? Scarlet is attacked in her place of work; her mother is approached in broad daylight in Aptos. More flowers on Scarlet’s doorstep just three days ago. Are you keeping count? ’cos damn sure, I am.”
Lowering his head and closing his eyes momentarily, the detective responded,
“I understand how worried you are, how worried you all are,” he added looking at Scarlet and Tom. “The incident at the station was unforgivable, and the team on duty that night has been suspended pending an investigation. But, I’m sure you can appreciate how hard it is to stop a man, who appears apt at disguise, from walking around this large city. It may at present not seem much of a consolation, but he will never be able to get within ten feet of Miss Oaks. Unfortunately, our department does not have the resources to question every person who enters a restaurant.”
“So, what’s the answer?” Tom asked in flat tones.
Mouth downturned, Detective Smyth replied, “Having Miss Oaks frequent only her home and workplace until he’s caught. By eliminating all public places, we can offer her more security.”
Seeing the look of horror this statement brought to Scarlet’s eyes, the detective gave a half-smile. “Again, please accept my apologies and rest assured I will do my utmost to ensure your safety.” Pushing his chair in towards the table, he concluded with, “I’ll be in touch.”
Focused on the retreating detective, Scarlet said, “No, Niles. I can’t do it. It could be years for goodness sake. Mia reminded me how long it took them to find the zodiac killer.”
“I wasn’t about to suggest it,” Niles returned. “I couldn’t just go from work to home with no end in sight. I certainly don’t expect you to.”
Clearing some plates aside and then tapping his hands on the table, Tom asked with a grin,
“What was the name of that game where you had to remember stuff?”
With nothing but blank stares from Niles and Scarlet, Tom frowned, “It was before our time but hugely popular. You had to match things hidden under the squares.”
“Concentration?” Scarlet enquired.
“Yes, that’s it,” Tom replied excitedly.
Scarlet explained to a confused looking Niles, “It was a huge game show. Gran still finds old reruns. You have to remember the prizes behind the numbers on this board and then when you get a matching pair you win the prize.”
“Okay,” Niles said slowly, his eyes wide.
“We need to be paying more attention to our surroundings,” Tom declared, palms outstretched. In an exaggerated whisper, he added, “Psycho Stewart was right over there.”
Scarlet bit her lip. “Tom’s right. We just got a pretty good description from Carl.”
“Minus the beard, I guess,” Niles conceded.
“When he approached Mom,” Scarlet informed her friends, “he was wearing a dark brown wig and sunglasses. This time, it appears, just the beard.”
Tom narrowed his dark eyes. “Every time we go anywhere, we’re going to be acutely aware of who is around us. I bet I could find one of those concentration board games on eBay. We can sharpen our senses and be primed and ready next time we’re out.”
Niles gave a sarcastic smile. “Well, that’s it all sorted then. Who needs the police?”
It had taken some persuading, but Scarlet finally agreed to an evening of ‘Concentration’ and cocktails with Niles, Tom, and James.
Seeing James for the first time since their last awkward meeting evoked the embarrassment, Scarlet predicted she’d feel. To cover, she became fascinated by decorations adorning the interior of Tom and Niles’ Tudor style home. “These are incredible,” Scarlet gushed, taking in the gleaming silver balls of varying sizes hanging from the ceiling.
She was forced, however, to acknowledge her date when James approached with a glass of wine.
“Tom tells me you’re a red girl,” he said with a disarming smile. “Cocktails to follow, some issue with locating the maraschino cherries.”
Relaxing somewhat, Scarlet accepted the balloon style glass with thanks. She then began apologizing for their last meeting and the drama he’d unwittingly walked in on.
“Scarlet,” James interrupted, “none of it was your fault, and I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more helpful. The police told me I had twenty minutes to get the horse trailer out of there. Once I returned the horses, I wanted to come back and check on you. But, then I worried you might feel like you needed to entertain me and I’d inevitably add to your stressful day.”
Scarlet pondered on Niles and Tom’s theory of Detective Smyth wanting James out of the way. Her musing ended abruptly when Tom voiced a loud, “Ta da!” Sporting a playful smile, he held a Concentration board game up in
the air. “eBay, vintage nineteen sixty.”
James professed his enthusiasm to play the game. Not knowing him well enough, Scarlet found it impossible to tell whether there was any sarcasm in this declaration.
An hour later, sitting at a table in front of a roaring fire, Scarlet determined James had a great sense of humor and an impressive memory too. She and the Bowie look-alike had been teamed up together and managed to accumulate the lion’s share of prizes.
Only upon the game being returned to its box, did the laughing stop and the conversation become a little more serious.
Moving across the room to adjust cream roses in a silver vase, Tom stated with gravity,
“Everywhere we go, we must take in all that our surroundings hold.”
Leaning in towards Niles, Scarlet whispered, “How much longer until his next assignment?”
Talking out the corner of his mouth, Niles replied, “I’m hoping, I mean, thinking, it’s got to be sometime in January.”
Pacing up and down in front of the large antique fireplace, Tom continued, “Every person we pass in the park, must be observed. Never again will we sit around a table without looking at our fellow diners.”
Niles scowled, “The neighboring tables I can handle, but I don’t see how it’s possible in the Golden Gate. You expect us to take in the appearance of the hundred-odd people jogging past?”
Scarlet, cringing with what she imagined James must be thinking, was surprised to hear him say, “We could go to a spy shop and buy one of those camera hats. It will record everything, so you can relax more and observe later.”
“A spy shop!” Tom repeated, eyes wide.
As Scarlet studied James’ profile, Niles said, “That’s a great idea, James. Scar, when do you go back to work?”
Feeling caught and blushing slightly, she turned her attention to Niles. “Back tomorrow, but then I’m off on New Year’s Eve.”
Scarlet Oaks and the Serial Caller Page 20