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Murder Made Legal: A Casey Alton Mystery

Page 2

by Richard Wren


  Josie paused for a moment, then yelled back, “I guess so. Turn slow to starboard until sails luff, let the wheel go, take a bunch of quick turns on the winch and jump back to the wheel? You’re sure?”

  Casey wasn’t at all sure, but it should work. “Do it!”

  Josie took a deep breath and started slowly, and with great effort, turning the wheel to starboard. The boat fought her every inch of the way. The one thing Casey did not want was for the boat to lose way or come completely around and be facing into the wind. He wanted to run with the wind, but be under control.

  Carefully she watched the head of the sail for any ripple of sag that would indicate a luff. Suddenly, it happened, a slight easing of the taut sail.

  She immediately let go of the wheel and sprang to the winch just as Casey yelled, “Go!”. Amazingly, it worked. She was able to make a number of complete turns on the winch and the boom moved in until it was mostly over the cabin and the port deck, reachable by Casey.

  With the wheel loose, the boat’s natural inclination to not cross the wind took over, and she started coming back to a starboard reach. Josie jumped to grab the wheel and keep the boat on course.

  Now it was up to Casey. His face felt like it had been sandpapered from the constant deluge of saltwater slapping at him. His arms felt leaden, and he was freezing. His eyes were salt encrusted.

  “How in hell am I gonna grab the tie down on the Leeward side?” Casey was talking under his breath to himself. “I got the windward one, but the damn sail’s billowing out so much I can’t reach the other one, but god dammit I got to.” He paused for a moment, wedged his body against the mast and the boom, then stuck his icy hands under his armpits to warm them. “Gotta tie them right the first time.”

  As Josie held her breath, Casey let the tie down slip through his fingers until he reached the bitter end, then took a double wrap of the line around his fist. So far so good, he thought. But now I don’t know. With his face up against the boom and the sail blooming far out to port, all he could do was blindly reach up the outside of the sail and try to find the other tie with his fingertips. Crouching under the boom, he reached as far as he could, and after several moments of frustration, was just able to catch the swinging tie.

  “Got ya, you son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Now all I gotta do is hang on to both of you and tie you together. He wasn’t sure his frozen and whipped fingers were up to the job, but after much fumbling, he managed a square knot. Not perfect but better. Jesus Christ, this damn sail’s got a mind of its own, he thought as he gradually subdued the beast. One more and that’ll do it,

  With the first tie secured, the second went a little quicker. Josh would have usually taken a third tie down, but his fingers weren’t up to the job. A few minutes later, he dropped to his knees on the cabin; grabbed the hand rails for safety, and yelled to Josie, “Give the boom some slack.”

  Josie instantly understood and eased the halyard to the boom. As it extended further and further to the port side, the boat finally eased its listing a little, and Josie’s job became easier with much less pressure on the sails.

  “You okay?” Casey hoarsely yelled.

  “Couldn’t be better.” Josie yelled back. “Let’s do it again!”

  CHAPTER 3

  Casey had to laugh. God I love her. What a gal. What a sailor. He didn’t want to think about how dangerous the last hour had been for them as he slid off the house and onto the deck, grabbed the railing, and worked his way back to the cockpit.

  “Want me to take the helm?” he asked.

  “No way; it’s just getting to be fun now.”

  “You’re getting to be a hard weather sailor right before my eyes,” complimented Casey.

  “It’s about time you came around, Mr. Casey Alton. Either I’m a sailor or I’m not, and if I am, you should have got me up much sooner. Don’t molly coddle me!”

  Sitting safely in the cockpit, Casey had to laugh again as he held up his hands in mock surrender, thinking, I just saved our lives and she’s bawling me out already. Aloud he said, “Never, never again, my intrepid crewman. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve more than earned your stripes.”

  “That’s more like it. Now where are we?”

  “GPS says we’re about thirty miles west south west of Point Conception, heading east south east toward San Miguel Island.”

  “How come? I thought we were heading for Santa Barbara.”

  “I just put the island in as our next waypoint. It has a neat cove on the leeward side, and we can spend a night or two there to clean up. You’ll love it. Probably have the whole place to ourselves. Besides, there’s no reason to rush to Santa Barbara; no one’s expecting us.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “We’re still being pushed pretty hard with the wind and the following seas. Knotmeter says eight knots, but with the following sea GPS says almost ten over the ground, and we’re about thirty-five miles out.” He glanced at the chronometer and was surprised to find out that almost two hours had passed by while they fought the storm. “If the wind holds, should be there in time for a late breakfast. Want coffee?”

  “Do I ever. Hot, sweet, and a shot of Pusser’s if you don’t mind.”

  “You’re not kidding?”

  “What’s the use of having it if we don’t use it?”

  Casey ducked below deck, filled the kettle with water, and gimbled it onto their stove, all the while marveling at his wife’s strengths. Pussers? She wants Pussers? I thought it was just a whim putting a fifth of Pusser’s Rum on the boat at the last minute. I guess the British Navy thrived on it okay for years, but I wonder if she has any idea how strong it is.

  In a short time, the kettle loudly beckoned him with a shrill whistle. He filled a large mug with instant coffee, honey, and a large shot of Pusser’s Rum. That’ll do something for her; this I gotta see.

  He planted his feet on the top rung of the ladder leading to the cockpit, wedged his shoulders into the opening, and reaching out, handed the concoction to Josie. She wedged a knee into the space between the spokes and took the drink into both gloved hands.

  “Boy does that ever feel good. I don’t think my hands’ve ever been this cold.”

  “Taste it,” Casey suggested.

  “It’s too hot,” she replied as she just barely stuck her tongue into it.

  “Give it a sec. It’ll get cold in a hurry with this weather.”

  They waited for a minute as a large swell caught up with them and Josie had to struggle with the wheel to keep the boat on track. She studied Casey’s face as she waited. Right now, it looked red and raw from saltwater and wind. Usually, his tanned complexion, blue eyes, and blond hair were strikingly handsome, at least to her. Now his eyes were red; his face looked like a raw tomato, and his hair looked like a handful of straw, still handsome to her.

  “Can we go back on autopilot now?” She asked.

  “I think so. Finish your coffee, and let me at it.”

  Without thinking, Josie took a large slug of coffee and instantly had a surprised look of consternation on her face, accompanied by a fit of coughing.

  “Like it?” Casey asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  Between fits of coughing, Josie stuck her tongue out at Casey, “A little weak, but I love it.”

  Casey switched back to the GPS autopilot and stood watching the trim for a few minutes to make sure it was capable of maintaining their new course in the almost gale winds.

  “I think she’s okay. Looks like the storm’s passed us over.”

  Josie somewhat tentatively relaxed her hold on the wheel and stretching to her full height, started swinging her arms one at a time in a full circle. “They feel like they’re about to fall off.”

  “It’s no wonder. You fought that wheel almost two hours.”

  Josie glanced at him incredulously, “Two hours? I don’t believe it.”

  Casey stepped aside so she could see the chronometer.

  “See for yourse
lf.” He invited.

  Josie squinted through her salt encrusted eyes, and then raised her right hand to a high five position. “I’ll be damned; it’s amazing how fast the time flies when you’re having fun.”

  Casey took over. “Okay crew, time to get the boat ship shape. Did I hear dishes crashing below during the storm?”

  The first thing Josie did was visit the head and its mirror. “My gawd,” she exclaimed. “That can’t be me.” Instead of the well-groomed, blue-eyed, and confidant-looking young face she was accustomed to seeing, a wind-and sun-burnt face looked back at her. Hair a terrible mess, both eyes red and swollen, she hardly recognized herself.

  “It’s going to take a while down here,” she understated to Casey. Most of all, her hair bothered her. It was stringy, full of salt, and perhaps ruined for life, she told herself. “Just wash the hell out of it and hope for the best,” she spoke to her reflection.

  CHAPTER 4

  An hour later, after two washes and rinses and soaking her face in cold cream, her reflection looked almost normal. Time to confront Casey, she thought as she climbed up to the cockpit. Casey took one look at her scrubbed face, her well-arranged hairdo and said, “Get all the pots and pans back in place?”

  So much for being eye candy for my captain, she thought. “You better go below and clean up. You’re a mess,” she answered.

  Three hours later, the westernmost tip of San Miguel Island appeared on their radar.

  Josie was below and reported the sighting. “About three points off the port bow.”

  “Perfect. The cove’s just behind the point and’s really protected. Should be comfy and nice. We’re coming in just where I wanted.”

  An hour and a half later, they were securely anchored in the cove, only disturbed by a slight swell and busily making the boat totally ship shape again.

  “I didn’t realize you were such a task master,” Josie laughingly complained as she scrubbed down the salt-encrusted teak railing.

  “Remember once a long time ago, before we were married, when you said you wanted to learn to be a deck ape? Well, this’s part of it. Still want it?”

  Josie changed the subject. “I thought you said we’d be all alone here.” She pointed to what looked like a small tug boat sitting silently near the other end of the cove. “Where’re the glasses?”

  In a moment, she said, “Looks like two guys.”

  Casey took the glasses. “They’re divers. I can see their tanks and gear. I bet they’re after sea urchins. One of them is waiving at us, probably noticed our binocs. He’s pointing at the two of them and then us. I think he’s asking if it’s okay to come over for a visit.”

  “Why not?” Josie asked.

  “Exactly my sentiments,” echoed Casey.

  Josie cast an eye over the cockpit, “I’m sure glad we cleaned her up; guess we’re okay for company“

  They watched as the two rowed their way over in their inflatable, waving a bottle of wine in the air. “Looks like our kind of people,” Casey observed.

  Casey tossed them a line to make their inflatable fast and the two climbed aboard.

  “Hi, I’m Tyler and this is my kid brother Andy.”

  Josh introduced himself and Josie and accepted the bottle of wine they offered. Josie went below to get glasses. From inside the cabin she could observe the two. Neither of them looked older than their late twenties. She observed that neither wore a wedding ring and was willing to bet that with their blonde good looks they cut a wide swath among the girls on shore. The feeling was reinforced when the older one caught her watching him and winked a big blue eye at her.

  She hurried back up to the cockpit.

  Later, after finishing the bottle of wine from their new friends and half a bottle of their own, Josie frowned and said, “Sea urchins? You dive for sea urchins?”

  The younger of their two guests stood up and pretended to be greatly insulted. “What’s so odd about diving for sea urchins? My idiot brother and I make a pretty fair living off them, and Japan loves us. He went on to explain how they used burlap sacks to store the sea urchins in and left them on the bottom of the bay until it was time to pick them up and head in to Santa Barbara

  Over the next two days, the four spent much time together. Casey had made a precarious living some years earlier by delivering boats up and down the California coast and he was used to the instant comradeship that developed among sailors. Josie however was surprised by how quickly the four became close and supportive friends. They took turns entertaining each other on the two boats. The two brothers turned out to be resourceful chefs and tried their damnedest to outcook Josie. One evening Josie cooked a small pot roast for their guests, only to be outdone the next night when the brothers prepared Abalone, fresh off the sea bed. One afternoon the all went ashore in the two inflatables. Josh with one brother and Josie with the other. The surf was crashing as they tried to leave and all four were dumped into the sea and soaking wet before they were able to successfully get their inflatables launched past the surf line. It was an adventurous afternoon full of laughs and further cemented their friendship.

  Just before sunset the third day, the brothers hoisted their anchor. Casey and Josie weren’t surprised, as during the last hour, they’d watched the two bringing burlap bag after burlap bag up from the deep and store them below decks.

  In a short time, the brothers had raised anchor and motored over within hailing distance.

  “Gotta go. See you in Santa Barbara?” they shouted at Casey.

  Casey and Josie were sitting in the cockpit enjoying an after dinner sherry. Josie was reading a book, and Casey was enjoying watching the object of his affection absentmindedly twirling a lock of her hair as she read. It was totally endearing to Casey. He knew he would surprise Josie when he replied to them, “Don’t think so. I think we’ll take off for Catalina in the morning.”

  “Really? I was looking forward to Santa Barbara and the shopping. Let’s go there first,” she said in a tone that was meant to finish the subject.

  They had been married a little over six hectic months and Casey delighted in surprising her with things unexpected. Her almost childlike appreciation of a surprise bouquet of roses or tickets to an event thrilled and surprised him. After all, she was an Assistant D.A. and could be as hard-bitten as anyone in court.

  “Oh. Didn’t I tell you? I guess I must have forgotten.” He kidded. “It’s a surprise from your dad. He thought we might be pooped out by the time we got here and arranged a hotel stay for two nights on Catalina, and that’s where we’re going tomorrow.”

  “Dad did that? Wow!”

  The brothers took off and Casey set about making their boat ready for an early morning departure.

  CHAPTER 5

  Three days later, they were preparing for another early morning departure after spending two nights off their boat and in a sumptuous hotel room, courtesy of Josie’s dad.

  The weather had cleared since their sail down and continued balmy through their two days of hiking and exploring the town and the countryside.

  “Dana Point?” Josie asked as she started to set the waypoint for the next leg of their trio.

  “Should be almost due east and maybe about thirty-five miles.” Casey agreed.

  “I think I’ll text Yosh and tell him we’ll be there this afternoon. Sound okay?” Josie asked.

  Yoshio was an old motorcycle-club buddy of her dad’s and now lived in Dana Point where he owned and ran a cycle shop. He’d jumped at the chance to host the pair on their trip south. Josie’s dad had gone to great lengths to warn them about him. “First off, don’t believe a word he says; don’t ask him about his ex-wives, and most of all, don’t make any favorable remarks about the Los Angeles police--he hates ‘em.”

  “Sure,” Casey replied. “Just don’t forget what your dad said.”

  Shortly after sending the text, Josie’s cell phone rang. “Yosh?”

  “D’ja hear from your dad?”

  “Not si
nce the night before last why?”

  “He called this morning, said he hadn’t been able to get through to you since last night.”

  “We’re okay. We must’ve been in a spot where we didn’t get reception. Tell him there’s no problem and we’ll call as soon as we can. We’re just pulling anchor in Catalina and will be in Dana Point early this afternoon. We’ll call you when we get in.”

  “Hold it, hold it,” Yosh shouted. “Don’t cut me off, there’s some kind of emergency.”

  “Emergency? Is Dad alright?”

  “He didn’t say. Just said if I heard from you, he wanted you to call right away and he needed both of you up there ASAP”

  Josie immediately reverted to her assistant district attorney personality and became coldly efficient. Without a word, she cut Yosh off and called her dad.

  “Dad, what’s the emergency?”

  “It’s Gus, he’s in jail.” Smitty blurted. She immediately conjured up a mental picture of Gus. In his seventies, he was often the picture of sartorial elegance, wearing a bow tie and exuding confidence. One of her dad’s oldest friends, he’d never been involved as her dad had in out and out criminality, but had been an inveterate con-man. She had always called him Uncle, and they had a special relationship.

  Uncle Gus?” She laughed. “Did he get caught with his fingers in someone’s pocket?”

  “Josie,” he cut in. “It’s murder. He’s being charged with murder. He really needs a good attorney; he wants you.”

  “Gus? Murder? Impossible!”

  Her dad instantly reverted to the commanding and demanding leader she had occasionally witnessed during her formative years. She pictured him leaping to his feet, stretching to his full six feet. two inches, full head of graying hair flying about. Hazel eyes glowering at the phone and reacting to her ‘impossible’ remark.

  “Josie!” he thundered. “God dammit, listen to me. Your God damned district attorney says he’s got a cut and dried case against Gus, something about a murder a long time ago and indisputable evidence. Gus’s locked up and scared, and they won’t give him bail. We need you and Casey now. Just drop everything, and get the hell up here, got it?” he ordered.

 

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