Clarets of Fire

by Christine E. Blum

  “For one or two days, yes, but then I want it to back to normal. This puts a damper in Bardot’s pool-diving activities and a bored dog is trouble . . . Paris?” I asked.

  “Pool-diving?” she asked.

  “Silly me, Bardot has a waterproof undercoat, so she’s impervious to cold water as long as it isn’t frozen over,” I explained.

  We both laughed. Upon listening to our conversation, Bardot started hopping up and down and whimpering at the French doors that lead out to the pool.

  “I guess I better let her out before Bardot gets so excited that she springs a leak or something.”

  We followed her out and she went around to the farside of the pool and went into a down state waiting for further instruction. Without Jack being nearby, pool time was the only time that Bardot gave me one hundred percent attention and obedience. The reward of diving was so great to her.

  I picked up two of her sinkable toys and held them up to her. One was a ring and one was bone shaped. I tossed one after the other into the deep end and saw that they landed on the bottom about a foot apart.

  “I’m so excited. What is she going to do, Halsey?” Liza squealed.

  “You’re about to find out.”

  Bardot was about ready to jump out of her skin.

  “Look at me,” I said to her. “I want you to get the ring, Bardot. Go get the ring.”

  With that she dove softly into the water, barely causing a ripple, and we watched until the last yellow tip of her tail disappeared.

  “My goodness, should we save her? I’m not wearing waterproof mascara.”

  Just then Bardot’s head came up for air, and she blew water out of her nose just like she’d seen dolphins do.

  “She’s got the ring! She understood you, Halsey. I’ve never seen anything like that, Halsey. Bardot’s a rock star.”

  Liza’s voice had risen to a pitch rivaling choirboys’.

  Bardot presented her quarry at Liza’s feet, and I rewarded her with a couple of biscuits. She then found the sole patch where the sun had broken through and made herself comfortable for her snack and then snooze.

  “Shall we go in? I’m really excited to show you your website, Liza.”

  “Sure,” she said with about as much enthusiasm as she’d have for a dental technician.

  I was starting to get concerned that perhaps Liza had buyer’s remorse and didn’t see the value in having a website for her business, which could lead to not paying me for my services. I thought back to the bankruptcies Peggy’s agent had uncovered and wondered if I should brace myself for an uncomfortable outcome to this meeting.

  We sat at my conference table, and she uncovered a tray of tea sandwiches that she’d had in her basket along with a bowl of delicious-looking fruit salad.

  “Before I forget, here’s your check. If there are any overages just let me know and I’ll write you another one.”

  That took me by surprise.

  “Don’t you want to see what I’ve done first?”

  “I’m sure that it’s fabulous, you just hold on to that.” She patted my hand.

  I took her through the site and she was duly impressed. The squeal came back when I showed her how she could tap into and customize the property listings feeds.

  “So are you good with the look and feel? The color scheme? I’ll still need your logo and a photo and bio for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Halsey.”

  I looked at her, confused.

  “You see, I’ve made some big life changes since we last spoke. I’ve sold my business, to a competitor actually. He’s aware of the website and what he’s seen he just loves. I’m sure that you’ll have plenty of business from him in the future.”

  “Wow, I didn’t see this coming. What are you going to do, Liza?”

  “I’m moving to Paris!”

  “You have friends there? Business?”

  “A bit of both. A beau from my past, a Frenchman, has just moved back there from California. We’d rekindled our relationship in the past month, and he’s invited me to join him. He’s also in commercial real estate, so once I get my license over there I can work in his firm. How perfect is that?”

  Suspicious is actually the word that comes to mind. Which gave me an idea.

  “That’s so exciting! I’m sure that you and Valentin will be very, very happy.”

  “We will.”

  Then Liza caught herself and shut her mouth. I was about to get to the truth when the door burst open.

  “Halsey, we’ve got to do something. They’ve taken Rico again and this time in cuffs!”

  Aimee’s chest heaved as she got the words out. Isabella followed her in, crying.

  “What are you talking about? Who took Rico? Augie?”

  I got out my phone, ready to call and rip into him.

  “No, not Augie. Other cops, who were with that fire inspector, Mason. You’ve got to do something. Isabella is falling apart, and we can’t let Penelope down. We’ve got to finish prepping for the harvest.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full, Halsey. I’ll just slip out. Bonne chance! ”

  Before I could even say anything, Liza was out the door. I figured that was the last time we’d see each other, and I hoped that the check was good.

  “Come in, both of you, and sit down. I need to know all that happened before we do anything else. Aimee, can you call Peggy and Sally and see if they’re available? I have a feeling . . . this is going to require all the Wine Club brains.”

  * * *

  Aimee busied herself setting out wineglasses even though we were technically still in the lunch hours. Isabella wrestled with a bottle opener but was too distraught to get the job done.

  “I hope there’s wine at this function,” Peggy announced, entering my office. “I need something to take away this chill.”

  “It’s sixty-five degrees out, honey, why didn’t you wear your fleece?” Sally asked, following Peggy inside.

  “There’s wine, although it’s a tad early for imbibing and we need clear heads to work on this riddle.”

  I relieved Isabella of her opening duty and motioned for her to take a seat at the conference table.

  “It’s chart time,” I said, grabbing a large pad of paper. We’d had success with this exercise in the past; it was a way to cover all the suspects, all the evidence, and all the holes. From there we would narrow down the list and make plans to go after what we still needed to know. Everyone contributed and when we’d covered everything, I stepped back to take in the chart:

  Valentin and the other property investors: The only people that had actually seen them in the flesh were Marisol and Aimee. (I’d been hidden in the trash bin.) Isabella and Rico had never met them, because the only interaction they’d had was with the building manager. Isabella provided the manager’s name, a Mr. Felix Juarez. The rent checks were all written to a trust company.

  Action required: Track down Mr. Juarez. Peggy—see if she can get anything more on the trust company.

  Conclusion: Since they have emptied their offices and since Liza Gilhooly let it slip that she was moving to Paris to be with Valentin—the name one of the owners called the other—it is a fair assumption that they have left the country.

  Brandon Dawson: Stood to gain a fairly substantial insurance payout by the auto parts business being burned to the ground. Much needed if the store was on the brink of bankruptcy. He was supposed to be surfing on the Sunday of the fire, but Sally discovered through the paramedics that he has no talent for the sport. Concurrently, Augie is pursuing a scam case with the beach patrol that involves guys posing as surfers that provide assistance to the elderly and tourists with car troubles. Problems that the “surfers” created by removing essential parts from the vehicles in the first place. They just happen to have spare parts in their van and can fix anything on the spot for cash. Some of the parts have been traced to a distributor that services Mar Vista and the Westside.

  Action required: Nee
d to find something that ties Brandon to these crimes. Halsey and Sally volunteer to hit the beach early in the morning in the hopes of catching Brandon in the act. Also need to try and clear up why Halsey saw him go back in the burned building the day after the fire and then disappear out the back. Did he steal the safe so he could sell the opioids?

  Conclusion: Many things point to Brandon as the arsonist. He had the means and the motive. But this car repair scam could be entirely separate from the fire and just a petty crime that he does for cash. Question whether he had the sophistication to research delayed incendiary devices by researching John Orr’s history and crimes.

  Cousin Andrew: Penelope thinks that he knows Brandon and said that Andrew loves to surf. Andrew had a rough childhood, grew up in foster care. Met Malcolm after his parents died in a car crash and Andrew’s extended hippie family took him in. Later they separated and Malcolm was also sent into foster care. In his youth he worked in a winery. As soon as he graduated from high school, he headed to Southern California and got a job apprenticing with a local auto mechanic. He says that Malcolm found him when researching his ancestry and living on Rose Avenue. Brought him into the winery. And there is the matter of the fire being set using an Abigail Rose wine bottle.

  Action required: Confirm that Andrew actually does surf. Try to get details on his relationship with Brandon.

  Conclusion: Andrew didn’t have means, motive, or opportunity to set the fire. He was at the airport picking up the honeymooners, Penelope and Malcolm. After that, he was at the block party the entire time. He has a great job at what is sure to be a successful winery with lots of opportunity for advancement and possibly a partnership position.

  This last one was tough to do with Isabella in the room, but it had to be done.

  Rico and Isabella: Lost their entire business in the fire. They were delivering pizzas to the block party just before the fire started. The timing suggests they couldn’t have been in two places at the same time, and there were lots of witnesses to attest that they were at the party. Dough hook piece found with broken safe from drugstore several blocks away. Confirmation that it came from the pizza parlor. And the latest evidence, the Brunos just purchased a ten-thousand-dollar pizza oven and had it shipped to the winery. Insurance hasn’t paid out yet, and Rico won’t say where the money came from.

  I turned my attention away from the chart and sat down next to Isabella.

  “Can you help at all, Isabella?” I plead with her. “You must have a sense about your finances. You’ve told me that you’ve earned barely anything since the fire, so did Rico cash in an investment to buy the oven?”

  “Proof of that would sure clean things up in a hurry, honey.” Peggy sat down to console Isabella.

  “If he did, it was something that didn’t involve me. We had a vacation fund that we set up with our bank at the beginning of each year, but we used most of it when we went to Italy in July. The only other savings is an IRA that we pay into. It requires both our signatures to make any changes, so I don’t think that the money came from there.”

  “This Inspector Mason is not like Augie. We can’t really push him around or force him to give us evidence,” Sally groused.

  “True, I’m the one that knows him the best and while he can be cordial, he takes his job very seriously. As he should, he deals in arson. And Isabella, Rico won’t tell him where he got the ten grand?”

  “Halsey, Rico is old school Italian and a very proud man. There are things you don’t talk about, and showing weakness and needing help is a very low point for men like him. However he got that money he did it for me, for all of us, and it took everything out of him to do so. I worry that he doesn’t have anything left to fight this with.”

  Isabella slumped inward, and her shoulders began to rise and fall with the tears.

  Aimee got her some water and we all shrugged. I know we all felt so helpless.

  Chapter Twenty

  After a restless night worrying that Rico could end up going to prison and breaking Isabella’s heart, I decided that we couldn’t just sit anymore and do nothing. Augie was moving at a snail’s pace and time was not on our side. I called Sally as soon as I got up, knowing that she’d be up and out doing her steps.

  “Ready to do some recon with me?” I asked.

  “Honey, I was born ready . . . Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.”

  Venice Beach is a different kind of place early in the morning, at least atmosphere-wise. As expected, we couldn’t escape my driveway without letting Marisol tag along. It didn’t matter the hour, she caught sight of Bardot hopping into the back of my SUV and slid into the backseat before I even knew it.

  “We’re only going to the vet, so why would you want to leave the warmth of your nest for a routine errand?”

  “No, you’re not.” Marisol crossed her arms, sending a clear signal that she was not budging.

  “Yes, we are, Marisol. Why would I lie to you about that?”

  “Because you drink too much and you are a liar. And also because here comes Sally and she’s wearing binoculars. You’re probably going to need to borrow some equipment from me, and if you ask nicely I’ll consider it.”

  “Morning! I’m so excited . . . I’ll get my steps in and enjoy some time at the beach.” Sally hopped into the passenger seat. “Did you both apply sunscreen? Even with the marine layer you could get burned.”

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

  I was busted.

  “No, it’s true, Marisol. Here, use this stick on your nose; it’s greaseless.”

  “Thanks. And I was talking to Halsey. You I trust.”

  “How are you feeling, Marisol?” Sally used her concerned, nurse voice. “You were only discharged from the hospital, what? A few days ago?”

  “I got good genes, and I don’t know what the fuss was all about anyway. But I did pick up some good supplies while I was there.” Marisol gave Sally her gold-toothed grin.

  “Supplies?” I asked. “Never mind.”

  For all I knew she could have marched out of there with an entire set of surgery tools.

  It was fun driving the streets at this early hour when even the most ambitious workers hadn’t left the house yet.

  “So what’s the plan when we get there? Want me to remove a part from your car, Halsey?” Marisol stuck her head up between the two front seats and looked from Sally to me and back again.

  “Just how do you know about this car trouble scam, Marisol? The doctor told you to rest, and you wouldn’t disobey his orders, would you?”

  “You don’t know what the doctor told me to do, because that’s privileged information, Halsey.”

  “You were spying around my office when we were meeting yesterday, weren’t you?”

  “What meeting? Are you still hungover from last night?”

  We reached the western most end of Rose Avenue, which actually dead-ended at the beach. We found a place to park at a lot that was currently without an attendant. Depending on how long we stayed we might get away for free. In high season a parking spot was second only to a seat on the stock exchange, and fees could easily be over thirty dollars.

  Last night Jack had helped me figure out the best time to catch the most surfers and introduced me to surfline.com. When he’d first moved to Southern California, he’d caught the surf bug just like every other young man. He claimed that during the year he’d surfed almost every day, and he’d swallowed enough seawater to fill a bathtub. The site told you when the tides would be low and high, the surf height, wind direction and velocity, and the size of the swells or waves. There are even beach cams to show you the conditions in real time.

  So a little after five thirty we disembarked from the car and headed down to the shore.

  “The plan is to check out the people surfing first to see if Brandon or Andrew or anyone else we recognize is among them. If we spot anyone, we stay out of sight but follow them when they get out of the water. If we don’t see anyone, we move to where t
he most cars are parked and keep a close eye, particularly on old ladies walking their dogs on the boardwalk.”

  “Got it! And I brought my binocs to make it easier to see the guys way out there on the water.”

  “Aren’t you going to let Bardie run, Halsey?”

  “It’s Bardot, Marisol . . . and no, not here. If she’s caught off-leash there’s a hefty fine to pay.”

  “Then why’d you bring her? Seems kinda cruel. Like smelling fresh donuts but the shop is closed.”

  We found a spot under the lifeguard tower (which was unoccupied) and set up our surveillance in semi-obscurity. We watched young and old guys riding the waves and wiping out. A couple of girls braved the briny foam and easily threw shade on some of the men. The sun had just peeked up behind us, and Bardot was happy to snuggle up close to me and take in all the action.

  “You see anybody you know, Halsey?”

  “Not a soul, Sally. It could be the wrong day, the wrong time, or a host of other things. This was really a stab in the dark.”

  “So we go back to the cars and see if we can catch those creeps in the act?”

  “I guess so, Marisol.”

  “Cute dog. You got somebody out there or are you just spectating?” came a voice from outside the tower. All we could see were a pair of hairy legs and the back of an upright surfboard.

  “Who said that?” Marisol cackled.

  A head appeared in the open space under the stilts where we had gathered.

  “Hi, it was me. I’m Eddie.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Eddie. Was that you I saw crushing it out there?” Sally asked, and I wondered where she’d picked up the surfing lingo.

  “Maybe, every wave’s different. Sometimes I surprise myself in a good way or a bad one.”

  Eddie crouched down and joined us under the tower. He had unzipped the top of his farmer John wetsuit that ended at his thighs.