“So when does all this happen? You know the last few months haven’t been exactly an emotional picnic for me, you know I lost—”
“—yes, Cable, I’m sorry you lost someone dear to you. I must say, however, that exquisite female creature waiting for you in your bedroom is truly extraordinary. I’d keep her if I were you.”
“Thanks, Toggth. I appreciate that. And I think I will keep her.” I went away from the window and sat opposite him in my client’s chair. “So let’s get on with this show—have you any idea what a weight it puts on me, never knowing when the other shoe will drop?—”
“—timing…timing, Cable. That’s the secret. I will keep you informed. In the future, remember they will haunt you for your memory of the Fen de Fuqin and attempt to access it from you through whatever means are at their disposal. Right now, I suggest you perform your paid-for task and secure the Royce family as best you can. I must go now.”
I got up and bent down to hug my little creature friend. “Thanks for coming, Toggth, even if you scared the crap out of Adora. But I think she’ll like you.”
He waved at me and disappeared before my eyes. I grabbed a bottle of gin out of my right drawer and poured. Then I went into the bedroom. Adora lay on the bed listening to the radio. She seemed content just lying there awaiting me. She sat up when I entered. “Mi amor, everything is—is hunky-dory, no?”
I sat on the bed and took her into my arms. “Yep, everything’s hunky-dory, babe. Toggth and I had some business to discuss. Some loose ends, that’s all.”
“You talk about nuestro casa, mi amor, our house somewhere?”
“Yes, Adora…I hate it that you have to live in this hole of a place. I thought with the money I make with the Royce case we can afford a nice little house—you know, to rent at first and maybe later to buy. Whatta ya think?”
She held me tight. “Oh, mi querido—te adoro! Gracias, Cable, for thinking of me—us.” Then her nostrils picked up an odor from my clothes as she sniffed. She backed away. “You have been with another woman…I can smell, Cable…”
“Yeah, I can’t lie to you. It wasn’t even intentional—I mean, I had a slight altercation with this blonde babe who owns a bordello—and is one of Royce’s daughters. Well, it turns out, she was very seductive—and she told me if…if I’m going to convince her that she has to leave the country, she needs to trust me and be more familiar with me. One of the—the, uh, ways she said she had in doing that was to—to, uh, bond with me physically. And being that I kinda wanted to cut to the chase and get through to this stubborn woman—I—I, uh, well, you know…I’m sorry, Adora, you know I would never want to hurt you in any way.”
Tears came to her eyes but she didn’t cry. She sniffed them back and took a deep breath. Instead of rising to temper—which she had every right to do—she quietly put her head on my chest. “Mi querido, you know I give my heart to you. Do you give your heart to me?”
I knew I hurt her. Sometimes truth is more painful than little white lies. But what else could I do? I adored this beautiful young woman and to lose her would all but destroy whatever decency was left in me. To tell her the truth was to keep things pure and straight between us. “Yes…doll…whatever is left of my heart belongs to you. I swear it.” I stroked her radiant black hair. “Men are weird creatures, Adora. More times than not they’re driven by their balls and not their heads.”
“But I want your balls, too, mi amor. Pero sólo para mí. Por qué? Why do I have to share you with another mujer—some woman who cannot love like I love you, Cable…”
My heart felt heavy and I held her tight. “Babe, I swear to you, I will be true to you—as I have before today—I mean, I don’t even think of being with other women other than looking—just looking at a pretty face, a pair of nice tits—or some fine gams now and then.”
“Gams? What’s those?”
“Legs, hon. You know, just legs…”
She took in a deep breath and exhaled. “You promise? I want to belong only to you, Cable…and I want you to belong only to me. Is that justo? Fair for both of us?”
“With a love like yours, Adora, yes, yes, and yes! I am sorry I was so stupid. I only want you, doll. You’re the best I’ll ever have or know.”
She gave me a little smile. “When can we look at some little casas, mi amor? I am not so sure I want mi madre o mi hermana living with us. What will happen when I scream out with mi placer—my pleasure when you make love with me.”
“Then you’ll make love with me again—sometime—even if I don’t deserve it?”
“Oh, sí, señor.” Then she smiled a teasing smile. “But I donno…I have to practice first—pero, I do not know who to practice with. Do you know some hombre muy malo who will make me…good lover…?”
When a guy’s in the doghouse with the woman he loves, it really matters, I was discovering. Her touch, her breasts and womanhood had dominion over you, and like a fly to flypaper, I was drawn in, hypnotized by this beautiful young woman’s smile and demeanor. “Yeah, I know a real bad hombre you can practice on—but what if you like him better than me after a while?”
“Entonces, señor Cable, you will just have to accept it,” she chortled. “I think I start now…! But first, you go take a bath!” We both laughed as she fell onto my chest, happy to be in my arms again. Nothing stays the same. But I knew one thing, that as long as we lived, I vowed to myself that day, I would never stray from this rare and exceptional woman. And I didn’t.
Zephyr
Of course, the Royce’s beach cottage had to be in the ritziest part of Malibu. Standing on a bluff a few miles north of the wharf, stood a light sea-green home with off-white trim and a black shingle roof. After Honey died, I had sold her Packard to a clothier I knew. He always said I could borrow it if I ever needed to since I practically gave the car to him. At the time I was grieving so, that I couldn’t have anything around reminding me of Honey. But on this day, I decided to drive, and even though I had no driver’s license, I zoomed along Highway One until I bumped down the stone-filled driveway leading to “Royce Cove Cottage”, as the sign read near the mailbox at the highway junction. I parked and walked up to the front door. A cool northwest wind was blowing the wind chimes into a tangled frenzy as a bent little man with thick reading glasses greeted me. “Yes?” he said, as he looked me up and down.
“Mr. Crickle? I’m Cable Denning, Mr. Royce probably called—”
“—oh, yes, Mr. Denning. He was very clear. You are to have run of the house and invite Miss Zephyr up—if she’ll come. She hasn’t been up here in months, though. I hear the folks may be traveling abroad soon?”
I was a bit confused. “Mr. Royce said I was to have run of the house? But I’ll be here only a short while—and most of that will be spent talking to Zephyr.”
He smiled a knowing smile. “Oh, you’ll be here a while, Mr. Denning. It isn’t as easy as all that, you know, corralling Miss Zephyr.”
I asked Mr. Crickle for instructions regarding the exact whereabouts of Zephyr’s seashell house. He pointed to a trail and I descended the bluff to the sandy beach below. In a little cove, set about twenty feet above the tide line sat a gleaming white mini-castle in the form of a seashell! It appeared as if a cavern had been built into the rock, then the structure built out from that. Only a rope ladder was visible, so the quaint little fortress was easily defensible, and no one had access to the seashell house unless they were invited and the rope ladder dropped for them. But today it was down and whoever occupied the sea-house may not have been in. I approached the place and looked up. I called out. “Zephyr! Zephyr Royce! I am a representative for your father. I would like to speak with you. Can you hear me?” I waited and paced around the sands for a couple of minutes. Then I repeated my calling out to her. Nothing. Only the sound of the northwest wind, the shifting, restless sands pulling along dried pieces of seaweed and an occasional call of a seabird could be heard.
I sat down on a rock and tried to light a Lucky Strik
e, but every match blew out before I could light the end of the cigarette, so I gave up and decided to just plop in the warm sand and think of what next to do. Then suddenly I saw her. Rising up out of the sea came a delicate, perfectly shaped young woman—totally nude! I tried not to look but it was impossible as she moved toward me. She had dark auburn hair, was perfectly proportioned, possessed diminutive features, flawless tanned skin, lovely firm breasts and a very small pubic area. I called out to her but she paid no attention to me. Nor did she speak to me. I got up and followed her to her rope ladder. She turned quickly to look at me, to make sure I wasn’t going to attack her. Her eyes were light green and glowed in the early afternoon sunlight. She put her hand out to stop me from proceeding any further but again said nothing. Then she began ascending the rope ladder. “I’m—I’m a representative for your father, Miss Royce. I really need to talk to you—in person without all the sounds of nature pounding at my ears. Will you come up to the cottage when you can? I’ll be waiting there until after dark. Then I have to go home. Okay?”
She kept climbing and when she reached the little landing deck in front of her seashell house, she pulled the ladder up, not even looking back down to see if I was there. How rude! I thought. After all, I drove all this way out to see her—and bam! the whole thing’s a bust. I went back up to the cottage, asked Mr. Crickle if there was any booze around and he pointed to a whole cabinet stuffed with liqueurs, scotch, wines, Champagne, vermouth and my favorite—English gin! I fixed myself a nice half-glass of the stuff and sat down, feeling dejected, on the sofa. The afternoon sunlight was warm coming in through the windows. In fact, without the wind, it was downright enjoyable. I called to Mr. Crickle who was making himself some lunch. “So…you watch after her…what’s the trick? I promised Benedict I would talk to her.”
“There is no trick, Mr. Denning. Zephyr comes like the wind, and goes like the wind. She speaks rarely, and then only if there is just cause. She minds her own business, has no friends, is self-educated, daydreams a lot, but spends most of her time under the sea.”
“Under the sea? How does she breathe, for God’s sake?”
“Zephyr is extraordinary. She has gifts…gifts very few possess.”
“How did she come by them?”
“I don’t know. Some kind of abnormality in the recipe that makes up a human being at conception, I suppose.”
The sunset was lovely and I watched the huge red ball sink behind a fog bank that looked like it might be on its way in for the night. I didn’t know what to do. Seems like I was having a hell of a time with the Royce girls. First Eden and her stubborn and feisty manner set me back, and now Zephyr’s mute approach made her inaccessible to me. Mr. Crickle had retired for the evening and I was getting myself prepared to drive back to the city when the front door opened and in walked this enchanting little creature. She couldn’t have stood more than five-foot two and wore a very thin green slip. Those glowing green eyes looked me over like an eagle checking out its next meal. “Hello, Zephyr,” I said in a non-intimidating voice. “I’m glad you came. Will you listen to me if I tell you something very important?”
She walked slowly to a couch opposite my chair and sat quietly, her hands folded together. She nodded her head slowly up and down. “Now…before I go back to Los Angeles tonight, I need to make it clear to you that your father thinks it is dangerous for you to remain here by the sea, or for that matter, remain in California. He has purchased an island in the Caribbean Ocean, in the Bahamas. He seems to feel if you remain here, your life will be threatened—or simply put, possibly worse—you and your family may end up dead.”
She was looking for something in my eyes. Apparently, she found it. “What is your name?” she finally spoke, her voice was fresh and feminine and very soft. “I am Zephyr.”
“Cable—Cable Denning. Yes, I know yours. I’ve met all your immediate family, beginning with your Dad. I met Mother—she seems the most co-operative. Your sister, as you might guess, is stubborn and a little married to luxury.” I looked at her and smiled. “And you? What about you, Zephyr? Do you know anything about the looming danger?”
“Water…water…” she replied. I had no clue.
“Water? Are you thirsty?”
“Water...tears…sorrow…eyes.”
She looked at me as if she was looking through me. “Sorrow in my eyes? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Pain. Sorrow, anger.” She twitched her head and turned it into her left shoulder in a quirky way. Then she straightened herself, got up and walked toward the door. I went after her and grabbed her arm to stop her. She spun around and slapped me hard across the face, her green eyes wide and fearful. “No!” she cried out. The sound of the ruckus brought Mr. Crickle out of his room in his robe. He sized up the situation.
“Are you okay, Zephyr? Did he hurt you?” Then he glowered at me. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave, Mr. Denning.”
“Not so fast, buddy boy!” I said. “I come with my own set of credentials and this family’s as dysfunctional as a French tank!” Zephyr was still livid, trembling a few feet from me…frozen where she stood. “You forget what I get paid for, both of you. Now, whatever it takes to communicate what I came here for, is however long I’m going to stay, got it? Now, you can call the cops, but I know most of them. And I don’t think you wanna do that because they’re worse than me. And another thing, even if it takes you packing your bags along with Miss Priss here and getting into my Packard—sooner or later we’re leaving this cozy little beach hideaway.”
“My, my,” Mr. Crickle said, stopped in his tracks by my firm little speech. He looked over to Zephyr. “Perhaps we should try and behave civilized and sit down, all of us together and listen to Mr. Denning. If it’s as urgent as you suggest, then perhaps we should take heed.”
Crickle urged Zephyr back onto the same seat she occupied before our altercation. He sat to my left. I lit up a Lucky Strike and blew the smoke in her direction. “So…now…I repeat…your father and your employer have sent me to get you, Zephyr, out of here. And, as I perceive it, this includes you, Mr. Crickle, inasmuch as you seem to have a pacifying effect on young Zephyr here.”
“Fiona,” the young woman blurted out.
I looked at Crickle, puzzled. “She believes that to be her genuine first name, although her birth records do not bear that out.”
“Oh,” I said, looking at the lovely young woman, now somewhat settled down. My right cheek still smarted and I was rubbing it when Zephyr got up and came over to me. I put my arms up to guard myself for fear she’d hit me again. But she gently grabbed my wrists, lowered my arms, closed her eyes and bent down to kiss my cheek. The touch of her lips against my skin was soft and deep. She backed away with her eyes still closed. My reddened cheek felt better. Then she slowly opened those green orbs of hers and smiled faintly at me. “Uh….thanks, I assume that to be an apology?”
“Love…” was all she said. Then she sat back down.
“Agreed, Zephyr’s ways are bizarre, Mr. Denning,” Mr. Crickle commented. “But they’re sincere. In kissing you just now, she has accepted you. That’s how she functions, simply, directly.”
Zephyr was still smiling at me, her eyes fixed on mine. “No touch. Now touch…feel…,” she intoned quietly.
“Thanks…I guess…” I cleared my throat and put my cigarette out in an ashtray by my chair. “Now, Zephyr, I’m sure your parents thought carefully about the selection of this Caribbean isle in paradise. Especially for you, warm water, lots of sea creatures—you know, the kind of things that make you happy.”
“Sea…fish…dolphin children…” she muttered.
I looked at Crickle. “Dolphins seem to be her children…or perhaps closer kin than us humans. Her pre-occupation with the sea seems to have begun at birth.”
“We take the train to Florida. Then we board a tramp steamer for Nassau. All of this must be done secretly and without drawing attention, so as to not alert the sleeping lions.
Once they are stirred up, I think the crap is gonna hit the fan and we’d better be out of harm’s way. So, is everything understood? Royce Cove Cottage and Zephyr’s seashell house will be properly closed up. But to keep snooping eyes and ears out, it will not be sold immediately.”
“Swim…my dolphin children wait…Lexie…take Lexie, my child.”
Again, I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Crickle. “I’ve not seen the creature, but she maintains she swims with him every day. Now, oddly, there was a time in her life none of us can explain. Let me see…she’s twenty-six now…when she was nineteen or twenty, a strange anomaly occurred. Zephyr kept rubbing her stomach and indicating she was expecting a child. Her protective ferocity prevented us from taking her to a physician, so we kept our eye on her. Indeed, her stomach did grow and we assumed she had somehow been violated by a young man and was pregnant. Then one day she simply disappeared. All of us were beside ourselves with trepidation that she had drowned herself in the sea because she perhaps did not wish to bring the child to full term. We even called in the police, search parties, everything we could think of. Mr. and Mrs. Royce were devastated, for as you’ve learned, Zephyr is their favorite—and poor Eden, although the eldest, was always left behind in the running. Then, as mysteriously as she had disappeared, one day Zephyr came up out of the sea healthier and happier looking than ever. She glowed and tried to communicate to us she had had a ‘sea-child’ and they swam together every day and frolicked in the calm, cold waters of the Pacific Ocean. No one has ever seen her so-called child, but it keeps her occupied and sane, I guess. So…that’s the dope, as you Americans might say, Mr. Denning.”
Again, I was quite taken with Crickle’s story. I glanced over at Zephyr. “So…uh, Zephyr…how do you propose we take your dolphin child with us to the Bahamas?”
Love Me or Kill Me (The Cable Denning Mystery Series Book 2) Page 6