“The car is through here,” Nicola said and headed for the door trying to portray more confidence than she felt praying she wouldn’t trip and make a fool of herself.
Danny hesitated just long enough to admire the sway of her hips outlined by a pair of white Calvin Klein jeans and turquoise silk shirt–that whispered softly when she moved. He followed in her perfumed wake caught up and kept pace as they headed for the car park.
The click-clack of Nicola’s heels on the hard concrete floor echoed across the cavernous car park while the soles of Danny’s Dockers made no sound at all.
“The car is down here,” Nicola said as she shuffled around inside her bag and came up with a set of keys attached to a small black remote. She stopped in front of a current-model black BMW convertible, and popped the locks.
Danny’s eyes roamed over the sleek bodywork, polished to a mirror finish, and gave a low whistle.
“Nice wheels,” he said.
Nicola gave a shy self-conscious smile opened the door and slid behind the wheel. While Danny dropped his bag into the trunk, Nicola checked her reflection in the mirror, slipped her sunglasses on and waited while Danny adjusted the seat to allow for his long legs. Once he’d clicked the seatbelt in place, she turned the key in the ignition, put the shift into reverse and was about to back out when a couple of teenagers roared past in a red Mustang heading for the exit. The tires screeched as the driver took the tight bend in a hurry, hit a speed bump and took off in a roar of black smoke and burning rubber. Nicola looked at Danny, shrugged, and followed the Mustang down.
After passing through the boom gate, Nicola edged her way into early-morning traffic and turned onto the highway. A short time later the black BMW crossed the 380 flyover and headed north on Highway 280.
Danny leaned back and relaxed in the comfort of the plush leather seat and enjoyed the ride through fast-moving traffic. The early morning sun held the promise of a perfect day, unlike the cold weather he’d left back in Sydney–still caught up in a late winter freeze. He found the right button and lowered the window a fraction. Having been cooped up for fourteen hours in the aircraft he needed to feel the wind on his face.
Nicola brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes as the unexpected breeze sent it dancing around her head.
“I’m sorry,” Danny said and reached for the button.
“No, don’t worry, it’s fine. The weather is just perfect, isn’t it? I’m so pleased San Francisco has turned on its best for you. Not every tourist gets the same treatment.”
“Then I’ll consider myself privileged,” Danny said.
The sun glinted in through the windshield lighting the coppery highlights in Nicola’s hair, like devils dancing on the top of her head.
While her attention was focused on a reckless driver zigzagging his way through traffic, Danny took the opportunity to study her more closely−and liked what he saw.
Her chestnut-colored hair curled at the tips and hung halfway down her back in shimmering waves. Her face was lovely, her skin smooth and flawless; her nose was straight and well proportioned; her cheekbones, high with just a light wash of color. Her lips, soft and moist, were so inviting he wanted to lean across and kiss them. His eyes traveled down a long slender neck that disappeared beneath the soft folds of turquoise silk. Danny remembered how the color of her shirt had accentuated the green of her eyes, and wondered if it was an intentional decision–or just a chance happening.
Nicola turned her head and caught his gaze. Her eyes lingered briefly on his–then back to the road. She wondered if she had passed his inspection.
“I think you mentioned you’d been to San Francisco before?” she said.
Danny nodded.
“Yes. A couple of years ago Sara and I spent four days in the city doing the tourist thing. Fisherman’s Wharf, Ghirardelli Square, Golden Gate Park and the Golden Gate Bridge.”
Nicola recalled Danny had mentioned the name Sara in one of his emails, but he hadn’t gone into details, and she hadn’t asked. She felt sure he would tell her if he wanted her to know.
“…And rode a cable car down to the bay. What an incredible experience that was. The cable car stops at Lombard Street where everyone gets off to walk down and admire the homes and gardens−while the cable car waits.
“Did you know Lombard Street is known as the Crookedest Street in the world?” Nicola asked.
“What an incredible street it is. The homes and gardens are beautiful but living there would be would be like living in a fishbowl. Then, when everyone’s back on board the cable car continues down Hyde and you’re admiring the magnificent view of the bay when suddenly the road drops away and you feel like you’re hanging mid-air. Then, before you’ve had time to catch your breath, the car hits the downside−and you’re doing your best to keep you lunch down. I’ve been on roller-coaster rides less scary!”
Nicola laughed. “It’s a special ride we put on for tourists. Did you go to Alcatraz Island?”
“No. We planned to, but ran out of time.”
Nicola bypassed the city and turned onto 19th Avenue taking them through Golden Gate Park. Even though it was mid-week the park was crowded with people taking advantage of the last of the sun before the cool days of autumn claimed the good weather.
Danny noticed the Park Presidio Boulevard sign by the side of the road. “I remember seeing a movie on cable years ago called, The Presidio with Sean Connery and I think, Meg Ryan. But it was an army barracks.”
“It’s still called The Presidio even though the army camp closed years ago. Now it’s government offices, the Gorbachev Institute, and George Lucas’s Industrial Light and Magic Special Effects Studio.”
Danny grinned. “Ah... Star Wars, I remember it well. I always pictured myself as the dashing Hans Solo.”
“They were great movies, weren’t they?”
“Princess Leia, right?”
Nicola laughed. “No. Luke Skywalker. My best friend cut my hair short and used her mother’s hair color to dye it blond. Boy did I look a mess. My parents grounded me for a whole month.”
As the black BMW approached the Golden Gate Bridge, Danny noticed the hills on the other side were bright, with shadows in the folds. He leaned forward and looked up through the windshield at the ochre-colored steel supports that looked like pieces of a gigantic Meccano set.
“I just love this bridge. To me it symbolizes America more than the Statue of Liberty or the New York City skyline. There’s something about it that arouses a kind of national pride in me, whenever I see it,” said Danny. “I know it sounds silly, but that’s just the way I feel.”
Nicola smiled. “No, it’s not silly at all. I think everyone feels that way. Did you get a chance to walk across it the last time you were here?”
“Yes, we did. The wind was blowing, and the fog was rolling in like a proverbial pea souper, even though it was the middle of summer.”
“Usually around three the fog starts rolling in. It’s caused by cold air coming down from Alaska and meeting hot air drifting out from the bay. The wind’s pretty constant, but the fog only happens during the summer. Seeing it’s such a beautiful morning, would you like me to stop on the other side and we can walk back across the bridge before the fog starts rolling in?” Nicola said.
Danny looked at the wind buffeting tourists as they fought their way across the narrow walkway clinging to jackets and caps, and holding tight to small children. “Not at the moment, but thanks for the offer. After the fourteen-hour plane trip I doubt I’d make it across. But, I would love to do it with you some other time if that’s okay.”
“Sure, any time you feel up to it just let me know.”
When they emerged from the Waldo tunnel, Danny noticed the hills beside the highway were gold in the heat, with the occasional clump of pine trees and bay laurels. Above the hill a turkey buzzard circled.
Nicola pointed down to the right. “That’s Sausalito down there.”
Danny looked down to where larg
e homes were built along the shoreline, and boats were moored at marinas that jutted into the bay. “Didn’t there used to be a lot of hippies living in houseboats in Sausalito?” he asked.
“Yes, but that was year’s ago. Now the hippies have become respectable and affluent and live in homes beside the bay, with boats tied up at their docks. Have you ever heard of William Randolph Hearst?”
Danny reached back into the far recesses of his mind and tried to remember what he had read. “Nineteen-thirties millionaire playboy; newspaper magnate; grandfather to the infamous, Patty Hearst?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Years ago Hearst owned a house in Sausalito, above Bridgeway, I think, and wanted to build a bigger house for his mistress, the actress, Marion Davies. But the good folk of Sausalito gave him so much grief over his outrageous lifestyle he built San Simeon down the coast, near Big Sur; that’s now a theme park for tourists.”
Nicola checked her side mirror and overtook a slow-moving SUV driven by an elderly Chinese man who could barely see over the top of the steering wheel.
“In the eighties the property was sold to a guy who paid a couple of ‘murder for hire thugs’ out of the San Joaquin Valley, to kill his wife–with a cross-bow. It was a particularly gruesome murder by all accounts,” she added.
“Oh my God! How awful. Did he get caught?”
“The killers finally ‘fessed up, when they were captured. If memory serves me right, there were two trials, but the husband got off–hung jury, I think.”
By now they were feeling more relaxed and at ease with each other’s company, as the old familiarity of many months of late night phone calls settled between them. Danny looked over at Nicola, and smiled.
“I can’t believe I’m sitting here with you after all this time. You look just like your photo – only more beautiful in the flesh.”
Nicola could feel a slight flush of heat rise to her cheeks. Compliments didn’t sit comfortably on her. “You look like yours too, only taller.”
As the BMW exited the highway at the Mill Valley turn off Danny noticed the peak of a mountain rising above the town.
“I didn’t know you had mountains in San Francisco,” he said.
“That’s Mount Tamalpais. It’s a lovely state park. It has lots of walking trails where you get the most fabulous views of San Francisco.
“How far are we from Mill Valley?”
“We’re in it… all the way to the mountain.”
As they rounded a bend past the Holiday Inn Nicola pointed to a path that followed the contours of the bay. “A couple of weeks ago I was jogging down there and I saw a tiger shark swimming close to the shore. It must have been oh, six, seven foot long. It gave me quite a start, I can tell you. I’d never seen a shark before, at least not around here, and not up close.”
When Danny looked in the direction she was pointing Nicola thought she noticed a slight bump on the ridge of his nose, but then he moved his head and she thought it may have just been a play of shadows from trees by the side of the road.
“I’m sure you’ve seen lots of sharks in Australia, but to us Mill Vallians it’s a rare occurrence.”
“Living beside the ocean I see them all the time. We have boats and seaplanes that patrol the coast to alert unsuspecting bathers.”
For a brief moment Nicola thought she saw a hint of sadness in Danny’s eyes–but then it was gone, and she thought she may had been mistaken about that, too.
They passed Tamalpais High School where the sports field was covered with wild ducks feasting on who knows what after early morning showers. A short time later Nicola slowed at the 2 am Club intersection, turned left onto Edgewood Avenue and headed up the hill.
“If you continue on this road it’ll take you to Muir Woods National Monument and Mount Tamalpais State Park. The entrance is less than a ten minute drive from here. It’s a lovely area. If we get some time while you’re here I’ll take you for a drive. It’s lovely up there and has the most incredible views.”
Danny smiled. “I’d like that.”
Nicola veered right at an intersection, and descended down a narrow winding road barely wide enough to accommodate a small car. As the road twisted and turned around blind hair-pin bends cut into the side of the hill to accommodate the massive trunks of giant redwood trees, Danny couldn’t help wondering if it was one way -but saw no signs.
Homes jutted out over the side of the hill on precarious looking platforms, or hung suspended over the edge of the precipice on massive concrete foundations, or wooden stilts, surrounded by giant redwood trees that blocked out all hope of ever seeing the sun.
As if in answer to his unspoken question a car rounded a bend at breakneck speed–and confronted them head on.
Danny felt the blood drain from his face as he made a grab for the dashboard. But Nicola never flinched. This was an everyday occurrence. She backed onto a wooden platform that served as parking atop a large house that seemed to defy all sense of gravity, as it hung suspended below them, with no obvious means of support. When the other driver sped past they smiled and waved.
“Scary stuff,” Nicola teased, but Danny said nothing, preferring to keep his own counsel, at least until he could find his voice.
Before he had time to recover, Nicola pulled the BMW off to the side of the road, but kept the engine running. Danny looked out the side window and wondered if she knew just how close she had parked to the edge. His hands went to the dashboard knowing it would not save him–but white-knuckle gripped it just the same.
Nicola noted the action and hid a smile as she leaned forward and pointed.
“That’s the Dipsea steps down there. It’s a very old set of wood and stone stairs that start at the bottom, on Cascade Drive.”
Danny could barely make out the road through the trees some two hundred feet below.
“Then crosses over Marion and continues on up the hill,” Nicola indicated with a wave of her hand.
Danny’s eyes followed the staircase that led somewhere beyond the crest of the hill. Across it lay a spill of sunlight and birdsong. The stairs looked damp, some dripping water. Suddenly there was movement in the shadows. A deer leaped out and disappeared into the undergrowth. Danny was startled–but Nicola never batted and eyelid.
“From there the trail goes through Muir Woods and Mount Tam State Park to Stinson Beach, on the coast. The steps are built over a natural water course and when it rains the water pours over the rocks and splashes onto the steps making them extremely slippery and dangerous to walk on.”
Danny glanced cautiously over the edge of the precipice, and tightened his grip on the dashboard. “Uh-huh,” he muttered gingerly, his voice having failed him again.
“There’s about three hundred steps in this section of the Dipsea..., ” Nicola continued, “…leading down to the township. It’s much quicker than walking down the winding road…” she looked over at Danny and grinned, “… but, it’s the almost vertical climb back up that’s the killer.”
Danny nodded but didn’t dare move fearing the slightest movement would send them hurtling over the edge.
“A couple of homes are built on the Dipsea, but the people who live there have to park their cars at the bottom of the steps on Cascade Drive, or up here on Marion, and carry everything either up or down those steps.
Nicola eased the car back onto the road and headed down the hill. A short time later she pulled the black BMW into a pebbled driveway, and cut the engine.
“Well, this is what I call home.”
Danny looked at the house barely visible through the trees where the sun glistened on the dew on roof, and the air was filled with birdsong. The setting reminded him of something out of a fairytale.
What a perfect beginning to an adventure, he thought.
FIVE
Drew stuck his head around the open door and looked in.
“How is our girl doing?” he whispered.
I put my finger to my lips in a shushing gesture closed my laptop and sli
d off the bed. Neither of us spoke as I followed Drew into the lounge where we could talk without disturbing my sister.
Drew lowered his body onto an overstuffed chair, leaned back, crossed his ankles and laced his fingers behind his head.
“Did she eat anything?”
“A little,” I said as I curled up on the couch and tucked my feet under. “I made her some soup and she managed to keep a few spoonfuls down.”
Drew nodded. “That’s good. At least it’s a start.”
I smiled. “Yes, it is.” I watched as he massaged his fingers up and down on the back of his head. He looked weary.
“Have you eaten? Can I get you something?”
“No, thanks, Bee, I’m fine. I had a business lunch that went on until well into the afternoon.” Drew looked around. The house was quiet.
“Where's Cody?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? Where would any sixteen-year-old boy be on a Friday night? With the weekend looming large they’d be out planning some kind of havoc and destruction on the rest of us.”
My brother-in-law laughed. “That sounds about right. And, Ross?”
“Oh, he’s probably out there planning some destruction of his own. He went to San Raphael to see a guy about a bike, somewhere on Lucas Valley Drive.”
Drew gave another lighthearted laugh and said, “At least it keeps him off the streets and out of the pubs.”
“Well–out of the pubs anyway. The streets will have to take care of themselves.”
Drew ran his fingers through his thick thatch of brown hair peppered with gray and stretched. I couldn’t help notice the fine lines etched in the corners of his eyes and around his mouth that I’m sure weren’t there before my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. Rosie’s illness has taken its toll on all who love her, in the most unexpected ways.
His eyes strayed to the closed bedroom door–and back.
“Thank you for being here, Bee. I don’t know how I would have managed without you and Ross. I hope you didn’t mind me phoning, unloading my problem onto you. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I’m glad you did. As soon as I got off the phone I rang the airlines and made a reservation on the first plane out of Sydney. We planned to come anyway, but whenever I spoke to Rosie she kept putting me off. She said it wasn’t necessary. Said she could manage. She said they thought they were most probably cysts. I’m so grateful you rang me as soon as you got the results of the biopsy.”
Murder and Mayhem Page 3