Thrilling Thirteen

by Ponzo, Gary

  He stood up and pulled my chair out for me. “Oh please, this is a personal meeting. Let’s use our first names, Abby.”

  Okie dokie. I smiled and took my seat.

  “May I get you something?”

  I removed my tin of loose-leaf tea from my purse. “Hot water. I kind of have an addiction,” I said with a shrug. I sensed Green’s attempts to make this feel like a date. It was, but not the kind of date he had pictured in his head.

  “Well, I’ll get us some pastries to share.”

  Before I could object, he had popped out of his seat and taken off.

  I sat quietly, spinning my tin can around between my index finger and the table. I wondered what we would talk about. Would we resort to the expected and discuss the case or work in general? Or would he surprise me and hold a conversation that didn’t have anything to do with a dead body?

  Green returned with a chocolate brownie and one of those everything bars, along with my cup of hot water. He had already ordered himself a large coffee ahead of time. I fixed my tea and picked up a fork. There’s no way I would let a chocolate brownie sit in front of me without a taste. No can do.

  “I heard through the grapevine that you like to box,” he started off.

  Wow, that came out of nowhere. I can’t remember mentioning it. “I do. My father taught me how when I was a young girl. I got away from the ring for some time, but since my move to San Francisco, I’ve fallen back into it.”

  “It’s a great way to keep the body in condition.”

  “That’s mostly why I picked it up again. I run as well, but boxing tends to give me a more balanced workout. And you? What do you like to do for exercise?”

  “I wish I could say something impressive like muay thai fighting, but sadly, I can’t. I enjoy hiking. I love being out in nature. Not only is it beautiful, it’s very peaceful.”

  “I’ll agree with you there. I try to get the family over to Golden Gate Park as often as I can. I know the nature found there is nothing like hiking, but it does the trick.”

  “Oh, it certainly does. I love the park. In fact, I live nearby.”

  From that point on, the conversation steered itself all over the place. At one point, we exchanged embarrassing stories about our childhood. Green’s were particularly entertaining. He had hippie parents who liked taking him on weekend camping trips to Bolinas with other families. He said there was a lot of nudity, pot and music. I laughed, hard.

  “Oh my, I can’t believe you had to endure that.”

  “At the time, I thought it was normal.” He laughed. “I didn’t know otherwise. My parents were, and still are, big-time nudists. That fun, magical place where we vacationed was a nudist colony.” We giggled. “I liked swimming in the pool and roasting marshmallows over the campfire at night. What about you?” he asked.

  “My mother thought I was a lesbian from age sixteen to age twenty-eight, the year I married my late husband.” We both laughed as Green tried to get an apology out about my husband’s passing. Thankfully, he didn’t ask more about it.

  I had a nice time with Green. It felt like we could talk about anything, and I was a bit surprised when I looked at my watch and saw that an hour had already passed. I told Green I’d had a very nice time talking to him, but I needed to get back to the office.

  We were still chatting when we exited the coffee shop and I heard someone call my name. I spun around and saw Kang walking toward us.

  “Kyle, what are you doing here?”

  “I took a walk through Chinatown and decided to loop back on Kearny Street.”

  “You know Dr. Green, right?”

  Kang looked down at my coffee date without his usual smile. “Green,” he said with a quick nod.

  Green looked up at my temporary partner without the smile I’d seen all afternoon and returned the same abrupt reply. “Kang.”

  Methinks they know each other. Fun had left the room, and awkward had taken over. I didn’t know what to say, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

  <><><>

  “How do you know Abby?” Green asked when he and Kang were alone.

  “We’re working on a case together. I assume that’s what you’re doing?”

  “Oh no, quite the opposite. We’re on a date.” Green beamed and pocketed his hands.

  Kang jerked his head back. He wasn’t expecting that.

  “Cat got your tongue? Yeah, don’t look so surprised. Abby and I hit it off. I know you’re thinking I’m not her type, but I’ll have you know, it’s all fun and laughter when she’s with me.” Green had puffed his chest out a bit.

  “How… how long have you—”

  “Been seeing her? Well, let’s see…” Green began a count on his hand. “This is the third time.” I’m not lying. Everything I’ve said is true. “Things are really moving along for us. I’m pretty serious about her, just so you know. You’re not interested in her, are you?”

  “We’re partners on a case. That’s all.”

  Kang looked away. He hadn’t gotten the impression that Abby was involved with someone. To think he had spent the last half hour thinking about her, even working up the guts to ask her out. Kang actually thought she might even be out of his league, but seeing her with Green… well, not only was it a shock; it actually made him jealous. It didn’t help that it was Green.

  Kang and the medical examiner had a history. Their relationship had been fine until he worked the Top Chef Killer case a few years ago. It was during that time that Green had met Inspector Leslie Choi and had become smitten with her. Kang didn’t think her feelings had been mutual. Anyway, Green developed a jealous streak over all the time that Kang and Choi spent together and how well the two got along. From that point on, Kang and Green’s relationship had deteriorated. This was yet another case of Abby/Leslie déjà-vu.

  “Yeah, she probably wouldn’t be into a guy like you anyway. Plus, I already have dibs on her.” Green bounced his eyebrows at Kang.

  You smarmy little shit. Kang took a deep breath, forcing his face to relax. Calm down, Kyle. You’re not dating her. Don’t get upset because someone else had the balls to ask her out while you pretended not to like her. He straightened up to his full height to make Green feel tiny. “Tell Abby I’ll catch up with her later.”

  Chapter 32

  Jerry had been looking forward to the night tour of Alcatraz he had booked a few days before their arrival in San Francisco. But now, with the situation with his wife, it dampened the excitement. If the Cotton Candy Killer news piece blew up, they would have to flee the city before completing their five objectives—a no-go in his mind. The entire situation angered him.

  They had a list of precautions they’d agreed to follow. In fact, it had been all Vicki’s idea. She was the one who had implemented layers of planning to lessen their chances of being caught. Over the last couple of years, she’d spent measurable amounts of time refining the way they would complete their kills. For this trip especially, she’d thought of everything from fake aliases and passports to dummy prepaid credit cards and bank accounts that were replenished through their bank accounts offshore. They had disguises packed in their suitcases, even a plan for what to do should they find themselves on the run and separated.

  Jerry had been against it all from the very beginning. He preferred to slice and dice on a whim and couldn’t care less about a trail that led back to him. But over time, she had slowly helped him change his methods. Now, he had become obsessed with following the rules to a T.

  He still hadn’t mentioned to his wife that her picture had made the late news. They had stayed in the hotel all day, contentedly lying in each other’s arms between screwing and ordering room service. A threesome always seemed to bring them closer.

  Jerry turned to the night table and peeked at his watch. It was encroaching on half past four. They would need to get ready soon.

  “Why are you watching the clock?” Vicki asked playfully. “Don’t you like being stuck in bed with me?”

/>   “We have tickets for Alcatraz, remember? I don’t want to miss the ferry.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” she said absently. Vicki had no interest in visiting the prison. She thought it strange that Jerry wanted to visit a place that could become a reality in their line of business.

  Jerry looked at his wife. “You still don’t want to go, do you?”

  She pouted her lips and lowered her chin. “No.”

  “Tell you what; stay here and relax. Order more room service. I’ll go by myself. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” The less interaction you have with the news-watching public, the better.

  Jerry kissed his wife reassuringly. He slipped out of bed and stepped into the shower but not before asking her to join him. Keeping her in the hotel seemed easy enough, but how would he stop her from watching television or surfing the Internet? She might discover what he had been hiding from her. And then what?

  Jerry wrestled with the problem while he lathered and scrubbed his wife’s back. He thought of telling her, but decided the right thing was to keep quiet. They did not have a plan for something like this. He knew she would never have bothered to give it any thought, because she was confident they would never end up in a situation like this. She would be devastated to know she was the one who screwed things up.

  Jerry wished it had been his mistake. Of course he’d have to take a beating for it, but it would save his wife the embarrassment. Should she find out, Jerry feared she might lose her confidence. He couldn’t have that. As a team, they both needed to be strong. A panicked wife creating more problems was the last thing he needed.

  As they toweled each other off, he casually mentioned that she should nap so she would be fresh and ready to continue the fun when he returned.

  “Jerry,” she said with a smile, “you’ve been so attentive all afternoon.”

  Upon hearing that, Jerry dropped to his knees and snuggled his face between her legs. Vicki laughed and tried to push him away, but he held tight and kept his face buried and his tongue moving. It didn’t take long before Vicki succumbed to pleasure once again.

  Jerry continued his husbandly duties on the bed while looking at his watch every few minutes. He intended to leave at the last possible moment, with his wife tired and completely uninterested in moving. When the time came, he kissed her and bolted out the door. Even with all that could go wrong, he still wanted to tour Alcatraz.

  Chapter 33

  Vicki hadn’t moved, still content to lie in the same revealing position that her husband had left her in. But boredom eventually set in. She rolled over twice to the other side of the king-size bed and fetched the remote off the nightstand. She pushed the power button, and the flat screen powered to life with previews of movies available on the hotel’s on-demand system. She flipped through a few of the channels but didn’t recognize any shows. She clicked the remote once more, turning the television off.

  What to do? It didn’t take her very long to figure that out. She dressed, put on her face and left the comforts of the room. The Carlsons had been staying at the Parc 55 Wyndham on Cyril Magnin Street near the edge of the Tenderloin. She had wanted to book one of the many charming boutique hotels in the lower Knob Hill area, but Jerry had reminded her of her rule that they be as inconspicuous as possible. The large Parc 55 hotel made it easy for them to blend into the sea of faces that other guests, and the hotel staff, saw on a daily basis.

  Union Square, the epic center of San Francisco shopping, was only a few blocks over, and that was the compromise. Vicki had thoughts of buying new lingerie, something to surprise Jerry. The concierge directed her to the Victoria’s Secret inside Westfield Center, only a two-minute walk in the opposite direction of the square.

  Once there, she spent thirty minutes searching for the perfect outfit. She continually switched back and forth between the classic bra, panty and garter belt ensemble versus the cute, see-through négligée. She came close to buying one of each but, in the end, opted for what she thought her husband would like best: stripper wife.

  Vicki didn’t bother to browse the rest of the shopping center; instead, she hurried over to Union Square. She had wanted to shop at Macy’s ever since they landed in San Francisco. Almost two hours had passed when she received a text from her husband that he had returned and wanted to know why she wasn’t in the room. Vicki had completely lost track of time. It seems like he just left. She texted him back that she had finished shopping and would be home soon. Vicki hurried down the four flights of escalators to the ground floor. She had intended to be lying on the bed in her new outfit when Jerry returned. So much for the big surprise.

  She exited Macy’s at the north doors, facing Union Square. Before she could turn left, in the direction of her hotel, the most beautiful voice caught her ear. Her head turned from side to side as she searched for the owner of that soulful voice. Her ears led her across the street and up the stairs into the square.

  There, a young man sat on a chair, strumming a guitar while he sang into a microphone. It wasn’t a song Vicki had ever heard before, but she loved it. None of the passersby seemed to notice the man as they crisscrossed the wide open space, hurrying from one store to another with large shopping bags in tow.

  His high tenor with its angelic notes easily cut through the city noise. He wore a pork pie hat that allowed his golden locks to peek out. The rest of his outfit consisted of a brown sport coat and jeans with scuffed leather boots.

  His eyes were closed and had been since she first had seen him, while his left foot bounced to keep time. Vicki moved to within five feet of the singer, listening and watching until he finished his song. She clapped, and he thanked her with a warm smile as she removed a five-dollar bill from her purse and placed it in the open guitar case on the ground in front of him. He nodded and smiled once more before strumming the beginnings of another song. Eventually, other people gathered, and Vicki lost her private concert.

  She turned to leave but not before smiling at him one last time. When she was out of his sightline, she removed her phone from her purse and texted Jerry, “You’ll never guess what I found.”

  “What?” he replied.

  “The heart we’ve been looking for.”

  Chapter 34

  Jerry moved as fast as he could. His heavy backpack slapped against his back with every stride taken. He was thrilled about Vicki’s text message and didn’t want to ruin it by arriving too late. When he got there, a bubbling of perspiration covered his face and the chest area of his brown shirt showed signs of spotting.

  “I power walked here,” he said, bent over and gasping for air.

  Vicki rubbed his shoulder. “Gee, honey, you didn’t have to do that.”

  He looked up at her. “You’re wearing your wig.”

  “Yeah, I know. I kind of like it. Maybe I should grow my hair out.”

  “I don’t think you’ll need it this time.”

  “Well, he’s already seen me in it so…”

  Jerry stood up but still rested both hands on his hips. He twisted his neck, searching for the singer. “Where is he?”

  “There,” Vicki said. She gripped his shoulders and faced him in the right direction. The two watched the singer from a distance, enjoying his melodic tones.

  “He’s pretty good.”

  Vicki smiled and snuggled her husband’s arm. They watched for a few more minutes before Jerry spoke again. “We can’t take care of business around here. It’s too public of a place.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “When he’s done, we’ll follow him and see where that leads us. I brought our equipment.”

  A crowd had begun to form around the young man, allowing the Carlsons to move closer and still remain faceless. When he finished singing, Vicki and Jerry cleared out with the rest of the impromptu audience and took separate seats at a coffee shop about a hundred feet away. There, they waited patiently. An hour later the singer packed up his eq
uipment and headed off.

  The Carlsons split up, as they always did in those situations, and followed at a good distance behind their target. The singer walked up Powell Street until he reached the bus stop on Sutter. Jerry texted his wife that he would move in closer to the young man since he wouldn’t be recognized.

  Vicki continued in the opposite direction on Sutter for fifty yards before crossing the street and doubling back to hide around the corner from them.

  A short wait and the number two bus arrived. The singer entered through the front doors with Jerry right behind. Vicki entered through the rear doors with her head down and a hat on and took a seat next to an elderly lady. The singer walked right by her without even a cursory glance and sat at the rear of the bus. Jerry sat two seats forward from him.

  There the three remained until the bus reached Larkin Street, where the singer exited with Jerry close behind and Vicki trailing. The man stopped at a building right before the next street and headed inside. Jerry caught the gate before it slammed shut and thanked the singer even though he hadn’t held it open. Together, they rode the elevator—the singer to the fifth floor, Jerry to the fourth. When Jerry exited, he quietly made his way up the stairwell to the fifth floor. There he saw four doors. Not bad. I can deal with those odds.

  Vicki waited for Jerry’s text in an alleyway next to the building, under the shadow of scaffolding. They were both in the zone at that point. There would be no confusion or hesitation. When they were this close to what they loved doing most, nothing could deter them—not even the presence of the police car that drove by.

  Two minutes passed, and Vicki received a text from Jerry to meet him at the entrance in thirty seconds. The two moved quickly up the stairs, neither speaking a word. Jerry had already determined which apartment the singer lived in. If he hadn’t, he never would have texted. When they reached the fifth floor, Jerry held up a hand with one finger, then his other hand with five fingers, signaling apartment number sixteen.