Chapter 33
Kendall Taylor lived in Beverly Hills, in a three thousand square foot house of Spanish style covered in white stucco with a terra cotta clay tile roof and little turrets with midget-sized balconies with wrought iron railings.
Kendall had fussed over Wolf's arrival. They had an early dinner by the pool, which was more of a dipping pool, decorative, rather than anything for actual swimming, with a pretty waterfall and a jacuzzi. The surrounding foliage was lush, wild, with soft-rooted palms. The meal was extraordinary. They lingered over a second bottle of her ex's wine, a Clos Vougeot, which was wonderful.
"Shall we finish the wine in the hot tub?" Kendall invited. The palm trees swayed high above them. The cool evening breeze would be a nice contrast. Kendall went in to change.
"Hmmm, nice," Kendall murmured as she dipped her toe daintily into the hot tub, the plush bathrobe fell from her shoulders.
Kendall was not shy about what she wanted. She climbed onto Wolf's lap. Wolf gave her an appreciative once over and watched her immerse herself in the bubbly water. The string bikini covered nothing and accentuated every curve of her tight body. Wolf didn't mind seeing her naked. Her age didn't show. He pulled her to him and untied the bikini top and tossed it lightly into the cold pool. "There, you don't really need that do, you?" he teased, as he fondled her pulling her onto his lap.
The winds were blowing and the air outside dry and cold but Kendall was not aware of the weather conditions on that California night. A voyeur peeking over the fence at that moment noticed two tiny triangles of the bikini top and a tiny thong bottom floating in the crystal blue waters of the backyard pool. The howling winds concealed the sounds coming from the jacuzzi where two figures were immersed bodies wrapped together around each. Their bodies moving fluidly in synchronized movements.
He had her bent over the edge of the jacuzzi where the wall of the jacuzzi met the ice cold waters of the pool. She was half in the jacuzzi and half in the pool, her arms immersed in the freezing and the cold water lapping against her chest, her face and hair. The alternating sensation of the ice cold water and the warm touch of his hands sent electric currents through her body until her screams matched the howling winds of the night.
Afterwards, they lay in bed. There was something different about Wolf this time around, Kendall thought, as they finally lay in her bed, smoking. The sex in Vegas was certainly adventurous, but this time, there was some added aggression, yet he seemed calmer, too. More confident. There was something primal about Wolf and Kendall couldn't get enough of it. She couldn't stop thinking about him anyway. He was more than a fling. He was special. She wanted to mold him into a perfect partner. She felt sorry for him. Wolf never talked about his days as an Olympic equestrian but Kendall had looked up the records and there he was, winning medals for the Austrian national equestrian team. Kendall smiled and snuggled closer. She stroked his body enjoying the feel of his skin, his muscular back. She would get him back on track.
Olympic medals, he loved horses and was great in the sack, what else did she need? She had money. Tomorrow they would visit the horses. He would love the ranch. They would swim naked in the spring fed pond, fuck in the hay, she was happy. They would get up with the sun. She enjoyed luxury, but now she ached for something more. Kendall fell asleep dreaming of their new life. Wolf carefully took the lit cigarette from her fingers and put it in the ashtray and put out the light.
Four months later they were married. "By the way, Mrs. Linser, you look astonishingly beautiful."
Kendall sighed happily. I got my man. What could possibly go wrong now?
The final jail buzzer rang. Holly watched Wolf walk away. He moved like an old man. When Holly got outside the air smelled like manure. Holly bought bottles of water at the gas station and got on the 60 Freeway heading back to Los Angeles. A pick-up truck blasted by on the inside lane and blew a tire swerving from left to right and back and barely missed hitting Holly. Shaking, she slowed down to a careful 55.
Chapter 34
The three young men were nervous. One wore a pale raincoat. Two of them had brought pillows and stuffed themselves carefully into the crappy gray Ford Taurus. The driver, a tough looking Latino named Raoul had paid each of them fifty dollars in advance. There had been a scrawny white guy lurking in a doorway, but he had not participated in the transaction. Maybe a look-out. And a big Mexican named Christobel who said nothing the entire time.
A few days before they met Raoul on Alvarado street and worked out the dtails. Their job was to show up on time. For that they got another $100. They had done it before. Been passengers in staged accidents. They would split the insurance money with the doctor and lawyer who got the most from the insurance settlement. That was just the way it was. This work took courage and desperation, but desperate men were not hard to find.
The passengers looked worried. If they had known what was really going on they would have worried more. Raoul didn't have to ask if his passengers were all buckled in. He looked in his rear view mirror, one of them was fingering a gold crucifix that hung on a thin chain around his neck.
He got on the 10 Freeway from east L.A. and headed west. The exits to Koreatown came up fast.
Beep. Beep. Beep. The black BMW.
There she was. Raoul spotted the black BMW. He stepped on the accelerator and the weary Taurus gave its best. The plan was to cut her off and force her into the guardrail and cause her to crash but she was going slower than expected. Raoul caught up to Holly and cranked the steering wheel hard to the right. But Holly wasn't on the inside lane yet. An 18-wheeler carrying a bed of cars was making up time on the inside lane when an old gray Taurus swerved in front of him and cut him off. The driver hit the brakes, but there was just nowhere to go. The 18-wheeler T-boned the Taurus and the smell of burning rubber filled the air.
“Christ!” shouted the driver at the sickening sound of the cars falling off the flat bed one by one smashing the Taurus.
"This was suppose to be just an accident," Raoul moaned, punching a pillow in disgust. He didn't have to look. There were no air bags. All he could see through the blood-spattered windows was the huge grill of the truck.
The three others were either dead or close to it. That hadn't been the plan. He twisted his neck and looked for the black BMW. His shoulder hurt like hell. Raoul banged his head against the headrest. He could hear sirens now. He wanted to unhook his seat belt, but somehow his arm wouldn't work. Sirens howled getting louder.
Choi was sitting in a white plastic chair on his tiny balcony drinking brandy. He should have had a phone call by now. He went inside and put on the local T.V.
An 18-wheeler had been cut off on the 10, near the Koreatown exit. There were fatalities. The news chopper camera showed a crushed gray car, up against the guardrail, the 18-wheeler's trailer at a bad angle. Cops and fire department vehicles everywhere. And Choi could see it clearly. The black BMW parked safely on the shoulder with Holly talking to law enforcement. She was on T.V. Clear as day. Not dead. Not even injured.
Choi's phone rang. It was Huck.
"That truck came out of nowhere," Huck's strained voice managed. Choi poured another brandy and drained it in a gulp, grimacing.
Chapter 35
If the visit to the morgue, Kate Hong's threats, and the staged accident was meant to scare Holly off from the Dumok it had the opposite effect. The Dumok called.
"Join me in New York if you're feeling brave," he said. Holly took the first flight out. They stayed in the Carlyle Hotel where the Dumok wined and dined Holly until nature took its course.
Holly ran into the bedroom and lay on the cool white bed and stretched languidly. She was tired, but very happy, too. The Dumok slid into the bed next to her. His hair was damp but his eyes warm. Holly ran her fingers through it.
"Hello boss."
"Counsel."
"Feeling brave, are we?"
"I am."
"What if I try to sneak up to your position?"
"
There might be sentries."
"I'll distract them."
"Try your best."
The Dumok placed his gun was on the night table and killed the lights. Central Park glowed from across 5th Avenue. Maybe they would walk there later, Holly thought. Maybe much later. They kissed and the Dumok lulled her guard soldiers into a trance. She couldn't help any of it as her soldiers broke ranks and cried out until Holly was left with the strong suspicion that they wanted to badly surrender. And surrender they did.
The next morning, Holly didn't want to wake up. Every muscle in her body was limp. It would have taken a platoon to open her eyelids. Somehow, she managed to roll to the other side of the bed and opened her eyes. The Dumok was gone.
Holly pulled a chair up to the window and drank coffee looking out over Central Park, dreaming about the Dumok. Two hours later, the Dumok was back, sleek and sleepy, his languid pose, all six foot three wonderful inches with the flashing dark eyes, casual, but the machinery much more visible in its workings underneath.
The Dumok leaned over and kissed Holly softly. "Promise me one thing when you get back."
"Anything."
The Dumok frowned, "that you'll be very careful." His eyes flashed. Though he didn’t tell Holly, he knew the car wreck was no accident. There was a contract on her life. Why? He didn’t know but would get to the bottom of it. Soon.
Last night, the Dumok had opened up to Holly. He had completed college and also obtained a law degree before going to work for the Korean government, he said. At eighteen, he had enlisted in the armed forces, and later worked as a liason with the armed forces in Britain and eventually was dispatched to South Korea. He was in good health although he had been seriously injured, the only direct reference to the scar on his neck. He said nothing more about it and she did not ask. His father was Canadian of French descent and his mother was Korean.
"So, because of my dear mother, I have an appreciation of Korean women," the Dumok said, softly, kissing her again. He had the beautiful French manners to go with the beautiful eyes. In the light of day, Holly could see clearly that genetics had strongly favored his father, his coloring, his height, and the soft curly black hair on his chest and legs. His eyes and cheekbones showed his exotic Asian side, but in general the contributions of his mother's genes were subtle.
The ride to the airport was silent. Each sorry to see the other off. How is it that you ended up in Koreatown, Los Angeles, is what Holly really wanted to ask, but instead she said, "Am I going to see you in Los Angeles?" trying hard to sound bright and cheerful.
"I will admit to a certain anticipation." The twinkle disappeared, his eyes quickly masked over with concern.
"Keep a low profile when you get back. Do you have other work to keep you busy?"
"Yes," Holly said, thinking about Kendall Taylor.
"Don't draw attention to yourself. Put the search for Nara Song aside for the time being and do your other work. Safety is the top priority. There is only one Holly," the Dumok said, softly. "Go, but stay close and you must distance yourself from me for now." The Dumok got inside the cab and waved.
“I love you,” Holly whispered as he drove away and out of sight.
Chapter 36
It had been a long drive for Holly and the entrance to the ranch was poorly marked. The wood sign was splintered and faded and off the main road. The paint was cracked and blistered by the hot Malibu sun. It said:
Dry Creek Ranch.
There was a caricature of a horse standing on its hind legs, and an arrow pointing right through an open rusted wrought iron gate. The road was dusty and unpaved. The fences surrounding the property had once been white but now a weathered grey. Holly peered as far as down the road as she could see but the road twisted and turned out of sight. The road was long and dusty and full of ruts. Soon Holly could no longer see or hear the highway behind her. The road wound around ancient trees. Half a mile more and there was a clearing and two large circular metal fences with, horses. Beautiful horses! Holly cautiously turned off the engine and opened the car door. There was no sign of human life.
A dog ran up. The only sounds were of birds and the ticking of the car engine cooling. It was just as hot out here as in the city, in fact, even hotter. Holly gingerly pushed the gate to a riding ring with two fingers. It didn't budge. She tried again, harder. The gate swung open and she stepped inside. The ground was sandy, dry and uneven with deep holes. There were lights placed carefully around the ring. Off in the distance, a hawk dove from the sky against the backdrop of scenic mountains. Holly folded her arms over her head to block the sun, looking around.
"Can't you read the dang sign?" a gruff voice said.
Holly whirled around and squinted into the unrelenting sun. It took her a moment to focus on the man’s face. He was tall and lean and the creases in his skin looked like riverbeds, the skin rough as leather from years under the sun.
"I'm Holly Park. I’m a lawyer,” she quickly added.
"Then you should know best what the laws are on trespassing." He squinted at her, his eyes narrowing.
"I'm sorry for trespassing, but I didn’t have a phone number."
“It’s unlisted.”
Holly said nothing and tried to smile encouragement. He was probably not used to people just showing up. Finally he relented a little.
“The name’s Earle. Travis Earle. He quirked his finger for her to follow him and over to a tacking shed next to the riding ring. “Long way to come, missy, presuming you drove up here from L.A.?”
"I'm looking for a horse named Lightning," Holly answered. "Is he boarded here?" The old cowboy turned around. "You Wolf's lawyer?" he asked, suspicious. “Wolf can’t afford no lawyer, not even a young one like you.”
"No, I'm Kendall Taylor's lawyer."
Travis Earle didn't say much after that. He gestured, only, to the open door. The old cowboy stood aside politely for Holly to enter first. She hesitated and cautiously peered inside before going in. There were worn leather straps, and metal bits hanging on the walls. Her heart was pounding. Loudly. Why did he bring her here? If she was murdered here nobody would know and if she yelled for help nobody would hear, she thought frantically.
"My office."
The flypaper hanging from the ceiling swung gently in the afternoon breeze. The dead flies were stuck like raisins. A refrigerator? Holly thought, and laughed. Of course, a refrigerator. It was so hot outside.
The ancient cowboy opened the small fridge and helped himself to two beers. He cracked them open, the quick hissing sound interrupting the quiet. Holly looked up at the cowboy and in that instant secretly christened him "Riverbed" - the deep etches in his face which told stories. Travis Earle, now officially Riverbed, stood directly before her, handed her a beer, and looked down at her feet. He went into a closet and pulled out a pair of women's hiking boots and held them out.
"These should fit."
The boots were a little big, but at least she could walk. Holly hadn't been near - or smelled - horses before. Especially in the heat, the smell was unbearable. She tried to breath shallowly as they entered the stables. Holly forgot all about the smell when from the large corner stall a beautiful, magical creature rose gracefully. Holly clasped her hands, bright eyed. It was Lightning! She just knew because the creature was
as graceful and beautiful as Kendall herself.
Travis Earle eyed Holly. Young, pretty, modern. Astonished at the every-day magic his dying world of men and horses and the silence of nature, which wasn't silent at all, really. His hands were weather beaten and callused but gentle as he guided Holly's small hand up to Lightning. He showed her how to cup her hand when offering the small apple.
"This way he won't accidentally bite your fingers," he said, gruffly. Holly smiled up at him. She stroked Lightning's head, softly, murmuring, and in the magic of the hay, the smell of earth and the sound of dogs barking and birds chirping high above, Holly forgot all about the dirty sidewalks, of intrusive smells from food carts
lining the streets, the homeless man she gave money to each day, and the sight of the ketchup stained stairwell. Holly had even got used to the smells a little. And she had made a new friend. Maybe two. She smiled and kissed Lightning on the nose.
Chapter 37
The next day, Holly got to the prison early. The prison guard was different this time. There were two, one was blonde and watched Holly carefully, he had a long elegant nose but a pock-marked face and his eyes were a pale cold green. The other one who hadn't spoken, was younger, shorter, but hard and dark, and had propped himself against the wall as Holly walked through the clanging gates into the attorney visitation room where Wolf was waiting.
Wolf Linser swung his feet off the desk and onto the floor and leaned forward, his hands folded, elbows on the desk. Today he looked more like a bank manager than a prison inmate. The sleeves of his prison blues were rolled up. He stood to his full height and had smoothed his wavy gray streaked fair hair. The furtive look was gone, his blue eyes clear. Holly could now see traces of his old good looks and charm. Wolf took a seat across from Holly. He grinned with his arms behind his head.
"No one has an attorney as pretty as you," he said. "It's made me a minor celebrity around here."
Holly blushed. She liked the compliment and the slight musicality of his Austrian accent.
"I have a present for you," Wolf said. There was a hint of pride in his voice. He sat upright in his chair and proudly pulled out piece of carefully folded paper. It was a pencil sketch of a horse's head with a white lightning bolt on his forehead.
Holly took it with both hands, holding it carefully by the edges.
"This is beautiful. Is the horse yours?" Holly asked.
The Virgin Whore Trial: A Holly Park Legal Thriller Page 13