by M. Z. Kelly
“I doubt it. Barry’s a first class asshole, but I don’t think he’s capable of murder.”
We spent another hour with King, doing follow-up questions, before letting the feds have their crack at him. We didn’t learn anything new after the FBI agents took over, other than the fact that King said he was surprised that Rafi Wayland hadn’t already killed him.
After the interview ended, the two agents said they were going to have King immediately transferred to their custody because they didn’t think he was safe in the jail, even in protective custody.
When we left the jail, darkness was settling in. I turned to Carl Hammer in the parking lot and said, “What do you think?”
“Rafi Wayland isn’t going down without a fight. I think we might have just started a war.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
I took the time during the ferry ride over to Catalina to unwind and try to forget about my cases. Even though the island was only about twenty miles from the mainland, in many ways it felt like it was a world apart; uncrowded and idyllic. The slower pace and the anticipation of spending time with Buck felt like just what I needed to de-stress, even if was only for the night.
Buck greeted me at the dock. The Catalina detective was well over six feet tall with short brown hair and blue eyes that, depending on the surroundings, seemed to take on all the beautiful hues of that color. Buck had made his way to the island via Laredo, Texas where he’d grown up. As was his custom, he was dressed casually in blue jeans, a sports coat, and a pair of worn leather boots.
He grasped his Stetson in one hand as we held onto one another for a long moment and kissed. I had the same feeling that I’d had before that we fit together perfectly, as though it was always meant to be like this.
I lingered in his arms as he asked, “How was the boat ride?”
“Never thought I’d get here.” I smiled and turned my head against his chest wishing the moment could last forever.
We strolled along the harbor before making our way to the Avalon Grille, a small waterfront restaurant on Crescent Avenue in the heart of downtown. We found seats on the patio and ordered drinks.
“I know this place isn’t the fanciest,” Buck said after our drinks arrived, “but it’s comfortable and the food’s great.”
“It’s perfect.” I took a sip of something called a Wrigley Martini, named for the family that originally developed and then preserved the island. The drink was delicious and I felt the earlier stress of the day completely melting away.
Buck’s blue eyes held on me and, making reference to a previous discussion we’d had on the phone, he said, “So tell me about the vampire and the troll.”
“There’s also the Beverly Hillbillies since we last talked.”
“You’re foolin’ me.”
His eyes crinkled up at the corners and his brow knitted as I took a moment to fill him in on life with my roommates, our basement house guests, and our wannabe squatters. “We’re also going to have a coroner move in with us this weekend.”
“Your life’s a heck of a lot more interesting than mine.”
“How’s Rosie?” I asked. Buck spent his spare time rescuing and tending to abused animals. He’d taken in the horse a few weeks earlier.
“She’s almost good as new. The McCalister Ranch took her in last week. I think she’ll have a good life there.” He sipped his beer, set it down. “And Bernie?”
“Spending the night with Bubba at Mom’s house. They’re probably both curled up in a corner about now listening to a séance.” Buck knew my mother did psychic readings.
Our food arrived. As we ate, the conversation shifted between people we both knew on the island and my cases in Hollywood. Buck had a common sense way of looking at things. When I told him about Jiggy Biggs’ murder and the possible involvement of Rafi Wayland he took a moment, turning over what I’d said in his mind.
“Don’t know the players, of course, but it seems to me this Rafi guy would’ve had a lot to lose by killing Biggs. It doesn’t quite add up for me.”
“I agree but, for now, he seems to be our only suspect. And he’s a guy who probably won’t go down without a fight. It’s going to get ugly.”
He reached over and touched my hand. “I know you can take care of yourself but…just watch yourself for my sake.” He smiled. “I’d have to go back to spending my nights with sick horses if you weren’t around.”
“I’m glad I can be of some use.”
We ate quickly after that, our anticipation of being together rising. After leaving the restaurant, Buck drove us north in his beat up old pickup. His ranch was located about ten miles from Avalon, on land owned by the Catalina Conservancy. The house and adjacent barn were small, but comfortable. Something about the property reminded me of a scene out of a Norman Rockwell painting, suggesting a simpler time and place.
I took a moment, stowing my suitcase in the house. Buck then got a bottle of wine that we carried out to the porch. The night was damp and cool, unlike the warm night a week earlier, when we’d spent the night together in the abandoned play structure adjacent to the house.
Over drinks we talked about the ranch, the animals he’d rescued, and our childhoods. There was something about being with Buck that always made me think that in some ways we were still like the children we’d once been, sharing the wonder and glory of exploring life together.
I set my wineglass aside as our discussion grew more serious and I remembered a difficult time in my childhood. “After my dad died, I used to spend a lot of time in a park down the street from our house. It was just me, the ducks, and the pollywogs. It was a great place to get lost, forget about the world.”
“Reminds me of a place called, Meyer’s Creek” Buck said. “Sometimes I’d spend the whole day there. My mom used to say I was born with a fishing pole in my hand.”
I smiled and nestled against him. “I think I’d like Buck, the boy.”
We shared a kiss before he took my hand and pulled me up. “I know I like Kate, the girl.”
After that it was my heart and his, beating together as one. Time disappeared and the world became transformed, a magical realm in a domain of sensation and pleasure.
We moved into the bedroom where the boy and the girl we had once been fell away as we became more like teenagers, exploring and touching one another as though it was the first time for each of us.
Our clothes came off and I lay back on the bed feeling him exploring the contours of my body, his hands and lips moving over my breasts before going lower. He lingered, kissing the soft, delicate hairs on my stomach before moving down and lightly brushing his lips against the top of my thighs. His touch and kisses were just enough to push me to the very edge of ecstasy, a freefall dance on the high cliffs of a glorious waterfall that promised a descent into heaven.
His lips worked their way closer to me until his head was between my legs. His beautiful eyes then found me for an instant. It was like looking into an exotic blue ocean that promised unimaginable treasures in its depths. That look, that unspoken question that asked for permission, pushed me over the edge.
I moaned, “Yes,” and was carried away into a river that touched every cell in my body until those cells exploded and I felt as though I was the most blessed being in existence.
Later, a long time later, after I’d shown him the other treasures in the same unfathomable ocean that I’d found, we rested. We eventually found a rhythm, our breath and heartbeats becoming steady and slower as we nestled in one another’s arms. We drifted off into a languid sleep until morning began to paint the island’s horizon into hues of gold and red.
I awakened to find Buck propped up on one arm looking at me. I brushed the sleep from my eyes and said, “What?”
“You’re just so beautiful and perfect.”
Even though I knew it wasn’t true, tears came to my eyes again. I realized that he’d also found the perfection in being together that I’d felt. The beauty of that understanding filled up my
heart until I thought it might break into a million pieces.
I turned toward him, raised up, and kissed his lips. At the same time I realized something had poked against my lower back. “Ouch.”
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes, there’s just…something…”
I sat up as he turned on the lamp. A soft light spilled across the bed catching the reflection of something shiny. Before I could ask him about it, he reached down and took the object between his fingers and released a long breath.
“What is it?”
His answer pulled me away from that place of wonder and ecstasy that we’d found. It brought me crashing down to earth until I felt like it shattered every part of me.
“It’s a ring.” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
I picked Bernie up at Mom’s house late that morning since I wasn’t scheduled to be at work until noon. My big dog and Bubba greeted me at the door with lots of tail wags and wet noses. After I greeted them, my mother apparently saw the distress that I couldn’t hide.
“You look like you just lost your best friend.” Mom came over, her gray eyes sweeping over me as Bernie continued to nuzzle me.
The last thing I was going to do was discuss what happened last night with her. “I’ve just been busy with work, not sleeping well.”
“Maybe you’re still…” She swept a hand through her frizzy graying hair and her gaze fell away. I knew what she’d meant to say, that I was still depressed over the events that happened months earlier.
“It’s not that, Mom.” I sighed, turned away, and got Bernie’s leash.
“Maybe you’re in need of some healing. I recently met a woman named Zaa Zaa who’s great with chakras and energy flow.”
Zaa Zaa. Why can’t people in Hollywood have normal names? I suppressed an eye roll. “My chakras are fine. I’m late for work.”
“I’ll bring her by your new house one of these evenings. She’s a friend of Madrigal’s.”
Of course. I gave Bubba a final bit of attention and headed for the door.
As I drove home to shower and change I couldn’t keep what had happened out of my thoughts. Buck had been speechless after finding the ring in our bed. After I asked him about it several times he’d finally explained, “It’s my ex-wife’s wedding ring.”
I’d been so hurt by what happened that I’d left, taking the same path I’d followed a few days earlier through the field behind his house. Buck had come after me, eventually catching up with me and saying, “I’m sorry.”
I’d turned and faced him. “I don’t understand any of this. How…”
“I don’t know. My ex, maybe she…” He’d released a breath. “I’ve seen some signs recently, just some things that were out of place. I dismissed it, but…I have a feeling now that maybe she’s been coming around.”
After that there was lots of crying and futile attempts to console me when the horror of what happened fully hit me. Buck’s ex-wife was mentally ill. She must have crept into the house while we were asleep, completely vulnerable and unware of her presence, and left her wedding ring. We were lucky we hadn’t been killed.
And then I’d had another horrifying thought. Had she been watching us make love?
“God damn it,” I screamed, bursting into tears as I drove home. “How can this be happening?”
Bernie whined as my tears flowed freely, my sobs coming in spasms that shook my entire body. It got so bad that I had to pull over to the side of the road and compose myself. It wasn’t until we were almost home that I finally regained some composure.
I heard clanging sounds coming from somewhere inside the house when I opened the door. I saw that everyone, including my friends, Lindsay, Claude, and Dr. Lester were gathered in the living room.
“What that noise?” I asked setting my overnight bag on the coffee table.
“Bad water leak downstairs,” Mo said. “Flooded out these two ghouls.”
“I resent that reference,” Claude said. “I’m afraid the doctor and I are going to need to rooms upstairs until the repairs are completed.”
“We aren’t sharing our space with you two ugly wankers,” Natalie said. “You can go stay in the garage.”
I took a seat. “That’s not going to work. My friend Brie and her daughter are supposed to move into the carriage house later today.”
Mo used a brush on a purple wig she had in her lap. “Then these two ghouls will just have to go find a motel.” Her eyes brightened as she looked at Claude and Lester. “Hey, maybe Norman Bates has a couple of spare rooms.”
“This is unacceptable and it’s impacting my work,” Lester grumbled. He met my eyes. “What did your crime scene people determine about the knife?”
“Nothing as far as I know.”
“It’s just another example of police incompetence. I’m going to the press today.”
I stood up, came over to him, and bent down until I was inches from his ancient pasty face. My horrible night had left me with no patience. “Listen to me. You will do nothing of the kind. The last thing we need is for the press to show up here. You will wait until the department completes its investigation.”
Lester grumbled and carried on about having solved Van Drake’s murder, but finally agreed to back off for the time being. He and Claude then waddled off to the kitchen to look for something to eat.
“I need to ask you something,” Lindsay said, changing the subject after they were gone. “I heard about a private investigator who’s looking for an assistant. His name is Jimmy Sweets. I’ve been thinking about applying for the job.”
“I know Sweets,” Mo said. “The talk on the street is that he’s no good, takes cases that no one else will touch.”
“He’s a piece of clunge,” Natalie agreed, looking at Lindsay. “Stay away from him.”
I brushed a hand through my hair and sighed, suddenly realizing I probably wouldn’t be able to take a shower because of the plumbing problems. I said to Lindsay, “I’ve also crossed paths with Sweets a couple of times. He’s pretty sleazy.”
My sister huffed out a breath and stood up. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s one decent person in Hollywood. Everybody’s a user.” She turned and said she was going upstairs to read.
After she was gone, Mo sat across from me and gave me the once over. “You have a rough night?”
I blinked a couple of times and realized my eyes were filling again. I pinched the bridge of my nose, holding the tears at bay. “It wasn’t the best…some things didn’t…they didn’t go very well on the island.”
Natalie came over and put an arm around me. “Don’t tell me that cowboy’s cheatin’ on you? If he is Mo and me will hogtie him, throw him off a cliff.”
I shook my head and breathed. “It’s nothing like that.” Despite my efforts, my tears came again. When I composed myself enough to talk I explained what had happened.
“His ex sounds barmy as a fruit fly to me,” Natalie said. “Maybe you need to take a break from Buck until things gets sorted out.”
“A woman like that’s got some serious issues,” Mo agreed. “No telling what she’ll do next. I’d keep my distance.”
I released a long breath and brushed my tears on the sleeve of my blouse. “You’re both probably right.” I stood up. “I’ve got to change and get ready for work.” They both came over and hugged me.
I was headed for the stairs when Mo said, “I heard they offered Jerry King immunity and he turned on Wayland.”
“What? How did you know that?”
The last thing we needed was for word to get out that Wayland was a suspect in King’s murder and that we were planning to take down the biggest gangster in the state.
“It’s in the papers,” Natalie said, picking up a copy of the Herald-Press from the coffee table. “All over the front page.”
“Shit,” I said, glancing at the headline that read Gang Leader Suspected in Realtor’s Murder. The article was written by Basheeba. I felt a headache surfacing
and said, “I better get to the station. See you both later.”
***
I brought a change of clothes to work and showered at the station. When I got to my desk I saw that Harvey was already headed for the conference room and asked him what was up.
“Edna’s on the warpath because of the newspaper article. Pearl and I also have some info on the Bundt case.”
When Bernie and I got to the conference room, I saw that Carl Hammer and Pearl were already there sitting across from the lieutenant. If stress could cause someone to age, Edna looked like he’d packed on a decade over the past few days.
“This is a fucking disaster,” the lieutenant bellowed, jabbing a finger at a copy of the Herald-Press that was open on the table. “We’ve got the biggest case in years and that Beelzebub woman leaks all the details before we can act.”
“There’s some talk that Blood Nation’s going to war over this,” Hammer said.
“The feds want to move on Wayland before that happens,” Edna said. “We’re supposed to meet with them at their offices this afternoon at three.”
I brushed a hand through my damp hair that was desperately in need of conditioner. “Without a confession we don’t have enough to take him down for Biggs’ murder.”
“It might be that Wayland didn’t kill him,” Pearl said. “I know Rafi from when I worked the streets years ago. He’s been into a lot of bad stuff, but it’s the first I’ve heard about him dealing heroin.” Pearl cut his leathery eyes to my partner. “Harvey and I also found something interesting on the Bundt case yesterday that ties to Biggs’ murder.” He nodded at my new partner.
Harvey brought out a laptop and made a couple of keystrokes. He then turned the screen so that Edna could see it.
Hammer and I came over and watched as he explained, “This was on one of the laptops that we took from Bundt’s backyard shed.” He motioned to the couple having sex on a bed. “As it turns out, Bundt also did some part-time work for Biggs. This scene was probably shot in the penthouse over on Highland.”