by Frank Perry
live in carefree opulence for several lifetimes. His children had trust accounts that would assure their lifestyles and his grandchildren.
He had only one concern in life. If the Feds ever convicted him, he would be locked away for several lifetimes and probably forfeit much of his wealth. His exit strategy had many contingent plans, but all centered on his airplane being ready to fly in minutes. Shortly after buying the mansion, he had a heliport constructed for rapid evacuation. With all of his well-paid friends in Government, he didn’t worry about surprise visits from the FBI. Even in a secret assault, he would be airborne before anyone could breach his reinforced gates and walls. His security people were prepared to defend any kind of manned-invasion. The security measures were overdone, but it was one of the reasons he slept soundly each night when he was home. His only vulnerabilities were the nights he stayed out with his female friends.
Melanie had driven Landra to the school earlier and was sitting impatiently, waiting for her husband, who was behind schedule. She had passed him without speaking when he entered their bedroom. He was obviously in trouble for being late. He changed quickly and then arrived at the school just in time for opening curtain. She was irritated because the only seating was in the back rows. Landra had the supporting actress role of Diana Barry in the play, Anne of Green Gables. Stage lighting prevented Landra or any of the cast from seeing anyone in the audience, so she wouldn’t know her parents were not up front where they should have been. Five minutes into the second act, scene two, “The Sitting Room,” Peña’s phone vibrated and he slowly pulled it from his pocket to avoid further irritating Melanie. He was thankful that Roxanne left a text message and hadn’t called to talk. Best Ocean Suite at the Biltmore in Santa Barbara under Mr. Luciano. Limousine at airport. Ramon flys commercial ahead of you. She was good about using a name for the reservation that wouldn’t trigger surveillance. His first name, which could also be a last name, was easily explained at the hotel, but confused anyone that was tracking Peña. Roxanne was trained well in this respect. She had poor administrative skills otherwise, but she didn’t question his business and had a wonderful body. As the play droned on, he imagined himself in her embrace. She was paid well for someone with minimal education and understood that he would never be seriously involved with her beyond his physical needs. He had a slight smile on his face imagining Roxanne nude that Melanie mistook for enjoyment, watching his daughter.
After the play, the auditorium lights came on and hundreds of people filed out politely, several stopping to greet the Peñas. They stood by their seats, letting everyone pass before walking toward the stage to be with Landra. The Drama Teacher and school principal were with the cast, handing roses to each of the performers. Peña was proud of Landra’s performance. It took courage as a twelve-year-old to perform live in front of an audience of adults. She would tell them later that she was petrified and imagined that it was only her parents in the audience. They mingled for a few minutes then left together after most of the audience had driven away. Peña’s driver was parked directly in front of the entrance, holding the rear door for them. Most of the cast and parents went out to celebrate, but Peña instructed the driver to go directly home for security reasons. Melanie was disappointed, but understood. Landra was just disappointed, something her mother would need to explain some day.
Early the next morning, he went to the office. He could make some phone calls, but it was only an excuse. Roxanne was seated behind her desk in the outer office when he arrived. “Good morning, Luca. Can I bring you some coffee?” She had a perky smile.
He stopped beside her and stroked her delicate face. “Yes, my little flaʊər (Spanish flower), I want to do some dictation this morning.” He was pleased that she wore a short tight skirt.
She followed him into his office moments later with a cup of black coffee, closing the door. Roxanne had no idea how to take dictation. It was a code instructing her to sit on his lap so that he could massage her thighs and put his hand up her dress. It was how he enjoyed his morning coffee.
Dictation lasted about twenty minutes then he needed to leave for the airport. When he didn’t have any pressing business in the mornings, Roxanne performed other dictation services. Peña kissed her quickly and asked for her to call his driver. He enjoyed watching her stand slowly to adjust her clothes, smiling at him the whole time. She had the ability to arouse him at will. She had a sexy way of walking away that would distract any red-blooded heterosexual male. He just smiled and shook his head slowly, pursing his lips. A minute later, he was adjusting his suit coat, exiting the front lobby door where his driver was waiting to take him to San Francisco International Airport. Another bright California day was forming as the heavy coastal fog rolled back out to sea over San Mateo, as they drove over the legal speed limit south on Highway 101.
The trip to his private hangar took twenty minutes. He made no phone calls, still savoring his morning coffee. Roxanne had worked for him for a year, learning the essential job elements quickly. He didn’t know or care anything about her personal life as long as it never interfered with work. She earned nice bonuses each month, based on “performance,” and would get a special Christmas present this year. He had always had terrible luck with assistants before her. Young girls always seemed to bring personal problems with them. He couldn’t tolerate it. They would talk endlessly on the phone, or text, or cry. This was unacceptable. His selection criterion was based on physical attributes, but it was also one of the qualities that caused trouble for most young women. Until Roxanne, he never had anyone that was totally devoted to him. Most lasted only a few weeks. They either refused his personal requests or wanted more from him. It was extortion of a peculiar type. Two girls carried their demand too far, threatening his family life. One was the girl immediately before Roxanne. In both cases, Ramon was told to have some fun and take care of the problem. The girls quietly disappeared, and he wouldn’t be hearing from them ever again, especially anchored to the bottom of the Pacific, as he imagined them. Ramon always seemed happy after these assignments.
The pilot had prepared the jet and fueled the tanks early in the morning. The hangar door was open when they arrived, and the plane’s ramp extended. “Good morning, sir. Will you be traveling alone today, sir?” Sometimes his assistants would travel with him.
“Yes, we’re down and back, all business. We can leave at any time.”
Luca didn’t spend any time socializing with the pilot. Like his personal assistants, he found it difficult to retain good pilots. They were always waiting for bigger airline jobs. It wasn’t the money. It was an ego thing with them to fly bigger jets. Only once before did he need Ramon’s service to “dismiss” a pilot that got suspicious of the business and hinted that he wanted to be part of it. Flying his products would be far riskier than using his ships. The pilots were never told about the ships, but one pressed hard about using the airplane. He was let go, in a manner of speaking, by Ramon. Like his assistants, pilots usually lasted less than a year. All were males, and Peña had no reason to know them intimately. Most were smart enough not to pry into their employer’s business.
They were wheels-up at ten o’clock, exactly as planned. The flight to Santa Barbara would take a little more than an hour then the limousine ride would be about twenty minutes to the Biltmore. He relaxed on the flight, thinking about Roxanne, when his phone vibrated. The display said new text message-Mojo. It didn’t say much, just “Where?” Peña sent a return message—“Biltmore, arrive 1200.” He had sent Ramon ahead earlier in the morning to meet him at the airport and do a security check before he landed. When they were near the airport, he would talk to Ramon before landing.
Somewhere off the Northern California Coast, Ocean Wanderer was loitering until nightfall before entering Half Moon Bay. Peña didn’t expect any trouble with the delivery, but large shipments were the main targets of the Feds, and nothing could ever be ass
umed. If there was trouble tonight, he wanted the plane fueled, and the pilot standing by. The boat was equipped with an automatic alert system that would sound an alarm in Peña’s house and on his phone if anything even seemed abnormal. The Captain of the “Wanderer” was his most experienced and most loyal. For now, he had no reason to worry as long as the boat remained in international waters. It occurred to him that he was becoming more paranoid with age and fortune.
Ramon reported the airport clear when they started their descent. The approach was from the east, following the coastal mountains before turning onto final approach heading. The plane landed smoothly thanks to an almost non-existent coastal breeze and lack of thermal updrafts common along the California coast. Santa Barbara Airport handles eight commercial regional airline flights per day. Most of airplanes coming and going are small private planes. Peña’s business jet was cleared for landing directly from approach with no other air traffic in the area. The pilot taxied to the visitor tie downs and shut down the engines as the limousine arrived. When Peña