“Glad to help. Are you getting closer to finding who shot Mr. Geller and that girl?”
“Getting closer every day.”
Back in the pickup Kaye tried to meld Burridge’s information into his developing theory about Geller and Ingram’s murders. He’d been stuck on how the shooter could have known Geller would be on the course on that day at that time. Now he knew.
The problem was that so did everyone else who had access to the system or read the posted sheets for days ahead. Throw in every member who knew Avi Geller and the number soared well into the hundreds.
The real question now was how anyone would know that Nicole Ingram would be there. Ingram apparently hadn’t driven to the club and had used a lame alias to sign in. Had she arrived with Geller?
It created a major hole in Kaye’s growing belief that Ingram had been the real target.
Could Geller have been the target all along? And aspiring screenwriter-turned-junkie Nicole Ingram was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?
At least he could now place Avi Geller and Rod Howell together not long before Howell was blown up, and only weeks before Geller was shot.
Pretty long odds.
His mood improved when he got back to the truck and there wasn’t a Kanji note on the windshield.
He got in, sat for a minute, sighed, and started the truck.
Maybe he wasn’t as close as he thought.
***
Carol Soares saw Kaye walk across the parking lot and get into his truck, then watched him drive away.
She immediately found a quiet corner and made a call.
“Kaye was just here again,” she said into the phone. “He talked to the starter for a long time.”
She listened.
“If that’s what you want to do,” she said after a moment. “He wasn’t riding a bike, he was in the truck.”
She listened again.
“I’ll keep my word,” she said. “But if you even touch her I’m going to the cops.”
She closed the call.
***
Kaye got back to the Squad and immediately gathered his things to head home. It had been a very long day and he wanted to practice.
He’d think about meditation after that.
His phone buzzed as he stood up. He looked at the screen and saw the preview of a text from Marella at SecureLife. Sighing, he sat down and opened it.
She apologized for texting, but wanted to let him know that she had run into a snag with the system log trying to get more days, but had just sent it, and to please call her if he needed anything else. He replied with a ‘thank you.’
Before he could get to his feet, his phone buzzed again. He was tempted to ignore it, but the persistent buzz told him it was a call, not a text.
He grabbed the phone out of his pocket again, looked at the screen, and smiled.
“Hi,” he said, the smile carrying over to his voice.
“Hi,” Auggie McMaster said. “Where are you?”
“Just leaving the station,” he replied. “Why? Where are you?”
“Santa Monica. Chez Angelique. I’m in town today making deliveries.”
“Deliveries?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I have restaurants that buy from my boutique list, including my label, and every other Wednesday is the day I stock them up.”
“Sounds like work to me,” Kaye said, smiling again.
She laughed and said, “Hey, beats a real job all to hell.”
“Are you done?” Kaye asked, then hastily added, “With the deliveries I mean.”
“Yes, I’m done, and that’s why I’m calling. Care to join me here? I’ve got an extra bottle with your name on it. Well, actually my name, but what the hell. It’s yours if you want it.”
“I’d love to,” Kaye said instantly, his fatigue forgotten. “Give me half an hour?”
“I’ll be here,” Auggie said, “anxiously listening for the sound of rumbling exhaust.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I drove the pickup today. Needed it for work.”
She laughed again. “Phew, I’m off the hook. I needed my truck today, too. Bet mine’s bigger than yours.”
“Not taking that bet,” Kaye said. “Where, exactly is this place?”
Twenty-five minutes later Kaye pulled into the nearly-full parking lot of Chez Angelique. In the parking spot farthest from the entrance was a white cargo van. On the side a half-circle of stylized script arched above a graphic depicting grapes on the vine.
La Vigna di Augustina.
Kaye walked in and was immediately greeted by a smiling woman.
“You’re here to meet Auggie,” she said, and it wasn’t a question. “I mean, you’ve got to be Ben, right?”
“I am.”
“She’s at the bar.”
Even from thirty feet away Kaye picked her out easily. She wore a black t-shirt with the same La Vigna di Augustina logo printed inside a large, white circle on the back. Wisps of her hair had escaped the loose bun atop her head and trailed halfway down her back. She wore black shorts and tennis shoes, and even from bar stool height one long, bare leg easily reached the floor.
She held a glass of red in one hand as she chatted with one of the women behind the bar, and another full glass sat in front of the empty stool next to her.
“Is this seat taken?” Kaye asked when he walked up behind her.
Auggie spun at the sound of his voice and grinned.
“It is now,” she said, putting her glass down and her hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, take a load off.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Kaye said, sliding onto the stool.
“Ben,” Auggie said, turning to the woman standing across the bar, “this is Angela. Angela, Ben. Be nice to her, she owns the joint.”
“Nice to meet you, Ben,” Angela said. “Auggie’s told me all about you.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Angela. And don’t believe everything you hear.”
Angela laughed, then said, “Time for me to head for the kitchen. Auggie, don’t leave without saying good-bye, okay?”
“Never,” Auggie said.
“How long have you known her?” Kaye asked once Angela was out of earshot.
“She was my very first wholesale customer,” Auggie said. “A little over a year ago she came to me and asked if she could copy my basic concept here in town. I told her she was good to go as long as she bought her wine from me.”
“It’s going well?”
“It’s going gangbusters,” Auggie said. “What she’s got over me is that she’s an absolute genius in a kitchen. In thirty minutes this place will be too crowded to walk through.”
“Good for her,” Kaye said before taking a sip of his wine. “Wow, this is good. Is this yours?”
“My finest yet,” Auggie said, beaming. “The vintage is already sold out, and Angela bought almost all of it.”
“I’m no businessman,” Kaye said, “but have you thought about franchising?”
“I have,” Auggie said, making a face. “But, honestly, there’s just not that much great wine to go around. Lots of wine is made everywhere, but outside of where I am on the Central Coast, there’s Napa, maybe the Willamette Valley in Oregon and the Columbia River Valley in Washington. Other than that, pickings are pretty slim for really, really good wine unless you go offshore. Besides, I want to make wine, not run a restaurant chain. I want to crush grapes, not the competition.”
“Good for you,” Kaye said. “Stay true to yourself.”
“That’s the plan. I learned early on from my grandfather not to worry about what I was going to do with my life. Focus on who I wanted to be and do what I had to do to become that person.”
“He sounds like Roshi.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she said, raising her glass to touch to Kaye’s. “So, how was your day, Detective Kaye?”
“Long,” he said. “Started surveillance at six this morning. That’s why I drove the truck. Too hard for me to hi
de on a motorcycle.”
She laughed, then took a drink of wine. “You are rather distinctive looking, you know.”
“I get that a lot.”
“In fact,” she said, smiling, “I’d go so far as to call you quite the specimen.”
“Coming from you, I take that as a real compliment.”
He saw the telltale blush creep into her neck as she looked down into her glass.
She looked up and asked, “Was the surveillance connected to the Valle delle Viti case?”
The question momentarily stumped Kaye. In his mind, he didn’t have a Valle delle Viti case.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was related to the same case I went up there to look at the place for. But a direct connection?” He shrugged his shoulders.
She took another sip of wine and looked over the rim of the glass at him. “Can you tell me about it? As a cop’s daughter, I’m really interested, you know.”
Before Kaye could answer, a hostess came and showed them to their table.
“We’re eating?” Kaye asked.
“Of course, silly. I give her a discount, she feeds us. Quid pro quo.”
When they were seated at a quiet corner table, Auggie prodded him again.
“So, tell me about your case.”
“Shouldn’t we decide on dinner first?”
“Angela and I already took care of it,” Auggie said. She saw the look of skepticism on Kaye’s face and laughed. “Relax, it’ll be fabulous. Now, spill about the case before I decide to get really demanding, and trust me, you don’t want that.”
Kaye started with responding to Paloma Canyon County Club and worked forward. There were, of course, things he couldn’t and didn’t tell her, but he gave her the gist and enough details to keep her spellbound. When he mentioned the Kanji notes her eyes got very wide. He didn’t mention the voice.
“Seriously?” she asked. “That is totally freaky. Who would do that?”
“I have no idea,” he replied. “Roshi says they’re threats, but we, uh, had a bit of a disagreement about what I should do.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll work it out. I know he’s important to you.”
Their food came. While they ate, he also told her about the mysterious exploding Ferrari case.
“Are they connected?” she asked.
“I think it’s possible. There’s some overlap and some commonalities. No direct link yet, but I don’t believe in coincidences, either.”
“Suspect?” she asked. A cop’s daughter.
“Let’s just say a strong person of interest, at least on the golf course case. But I can’t prove anything yet. I’ve got no witnesses, no ballistics, no DNA or trace, nothing. At this point it’s all circumstantial, and I’m not even totally sure who the real target was and why somebody wanted either, or both, of them dead. On the Ferrari thing, I’m absolutely nowhere, but I think the FBI is going to start looking into it.”
“But you have a theory about the golf course case, right?”
“I do,” Kaye replied. “But my variables keep changing. Besides, theories don’t fly in court.”
“You’ll come up with something,” she said.
The conversation changed from murder to more conventional topics for the remainder of their dinner.
“Well,” Kaye said after coffee and dessert, “you were right. That’s the best meal, and best wine, I’ve had in a long, long time. My compliments to Angela and the outstanding winemaker.”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” Auggie said, blushing again. “I’ll go pass that along. I do have to say good-bye to her.”
Five minutes later, Auggie’s arm looped through Kaye’s, they crossed the parking lot to her van.
“You win,” Kaye said. “Yours is bigger.”
She laughed and squeezed his arm.
“You know,” he went on. “I don’t live far from here. If you don’t want to drive back in the dark, I’ll extend the same offer you made me, and your choice of quarters.”
“Oh, Ben, I’d love to,” she said, stepping around to face him and taking his hand in both of hers.
“I sense a ‘but’,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said. “I can’t. I have a meeting I cannot miss early tomorrow morning.”
“I understand. Another time maybe?”
“Count on it,” she said as she stepped in close, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him.
It wasn’t symbolic. She kissed him hard, and he wrapped his long arms around her as she slid hers around his neck.
“Phew,” she said a long moment later. “If I don’t stop now we might end up in jail.”
Kaye’s arms were still around her waist and he pulled her tight against him.
“The offer’s still open.”
“Oh, Ben, I would if I could,” she whispered. “But I can’t. I’m presenting an offer on that ground I told you about. I have to be there.”
“I understand,” he said again.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Absolutely. Hey, last weekend it was me. How could I be upset with you?”
“Thank you,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder for a moment before pulling back. “What are you doing this weekend?”
He smiled and said, “As a matter of fact, I was planning a trip to Santa Barbara tomorrow or Friday. There are a couple people I need to talk to. I thought I’d see if I could find a good reason to swing up to Santa Ynez after that.”
“A good reason?” she asked mockingly.
Kaye just shrugged his shoulders.
“When were you planning on telling me this?”
“I just told you,” Kaye said, grinning broadly.
“Is it okay if I save you your favorite seat at the end of the bar?”
“I’d like that. Have a preference on which day?”
“Uh, Friday,” she said, then leaned in and kissed him again, this time leaving her hands against his chest. “Maybe you can stay the weekend?”
“Good night, Auggie,” Kaye said, slowly dropping his arms from around her waist. “Thank you very much for the great surprise. Made my week.”
“My pleasure. See you Friday?”
“That’s the plan.”
He stood in the parking lot and watched her drive away, then headed for the pickup.
***
The driver of a dark colored Toyota sedan also watched.
After Kaye drove away the driver made a phone call.
“It’s me. I have a prospect for you.”
The driver listened for a moment before speaking again.
“She’s leaving Santa Monica right now, probably headed for Santa Ynez. At least that’s what it says on the side of the van she’s driving.” The driver gave the other side of the conversation a description of Auggie and the van, then listened again.
“Look,” the driver said. “I know, but this relates to Kaye. Make the stop, then use your discretion.”
The driver ended the call, then took one last hit off the yomogi-laced joint, causing its tip to glow brightly before dropping what was left out the window and starting the car.
“You have done well,” The Lord said.
“Thank you,” the driver said, smiling shyly. “It is my goal to please you.”
“As always, you have. Now, though, you must finish the job.”
“I will bring our enemy to us, my Lord, and I will present you with his head.”
The thought caused the driver to smile. Killing cops was risky business, but it was Gi.
Justice.
DAY 18
Thursday Week 3
Rain.
Mudslide rain. The kind that roars in off the Pacific to remind the hill dwellers, who have already endured the devastation of Lucifer’s fiery breath, that things could get even worse.
Ah, beautiful California.
Berating himself for getting old and soft, Kaye decided to drive the truck again. As a consolation, he opted to wear the Big Boar
colors anyway.
The entire Department must have planned on working inside to avoid the rain, because Kaye ended up parking on the street a half-block away.
When he stomped into the Squad, Mel Lister was at her desk poring over several tall stacks of field interview cards.
She looked up and saw Kaye, wet from his walk.
“Nice day outside, eh,?” she said, eying him up and down. “Of course, I’d lie for you, and that’s the truth.”
“It’s really coming down,” Kaye said, looking around. “Where’s Chet? Haven’t seen him all week.”
“Didn’t you hear? He’s got a secret. Well, had a secret I guess. Chet’s leaving on a jet plane.”
“What?” Kaye asked. “In English, please.”
“Chet retired,” Lister said. “Monday was his last day, and the jerk didn’t even tell me until end of watch.”
“I didn’t even know he was thinking about retiring,” Kaye said. “Thought he loved the job.”
“Love is a battlefield, Kaye, and sometimes it’s tainted,” Lister said. “The Chief pissed him off with the whole ‘don’t deserve to wear the badge’ thing after he gave so many years to the Department.”
“What’s he going to do?”
“Sing Tiny Bubbles with Don Ho,” Lister said. “Took a job as head of security at some resort in Hawaii. I guess he’d applied a while ago, interviewed, then never heard anything. But they got in touch right before we got called back and offered him the job. It was take it or lose it, I guess.”
“That’s too bad. I mean, good for him, bad for us.”
“The Shirelles had it right,” Lister said. “Mama said, man. Mama said. But all we can do is roll with it.” She paused for two beats and then asked, “Hey, you think the Captain will put us together? I mean, we both need partners now, right?”
“I have no idea,” Kaye said. “But you should know that people I partner with usually don’t fare well.”
Lister laughed. “That’s not exactly your dirty little secret.”
“Let’s not worry about it unless and until Thompson brings it up.”
“I’m good with that,” Lister said, spinning back to her desk and waving at the stacks of FI cards. “Better get back to the dirty work.”
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