California Motel (Spencer and Miller Book 1)

by Roach Spell

  “Young man,” said Nancy. “We have a surprise for you: a weeklong vacation in Hawaii for two.”

  Spencer was very excited and shook hands gratefully with both Nancy and Ronald. The Reagans smiled and left the room with their armada of guards.

  “We got two tickets to paradise,” Spencer said to Yuki.

  “Right now you need more rest,” interjected Miller.

  “Tell me,” said Spencer looking at Miller, who seated comfortably with a cigar. “Who actually built that tunnel? Who set up the chamber that was formerly the gas station?”

  Miller replied, “Rose could tell us for sure, or maybe Ronald could”

  A joined giggling covered the room.

  Miller did not say anything else, but that was good enough. Just like Columbo, Miller wanted to leave it up to one’s imagination. Spencer would never really know how those treasures made their way down into the manmade chamber beneath the Villa Motel but it was clear that several wealthy people and the Mafia had been involved and it was all a big game, just like playing poker.

  39

  The Villa Motel was all booked after the renovation. Months went by, and the treasure remained unclaimed. Eventually, it distributed throughout the state of California, to charity, with the kind and calculated, support of the Reagans. Terry received a solid amount for repair costs and ground rights, as the money had been stored safely on his property for so many years. Spencer decided it was time to move on and he finally asked Yuki to join him up to Santa Barbara, where he had agreed to manage a new motel on the beach. It offered just nineteen rooms, which was a very comfortable size. He invited the entire Villa crew to the DP Pier restaurant. They shared a great last evening, and since Bertha was upset about his departure, she invited Spencer to her office late that night for a final round of calculations. He promised to come back every occasionally, which he did. Meanwhile, Jim took on the reception job and Harper promoted to facility maintenance manager. Esperanza cried about Spencer’s move, but she stayed on at the Villa Motel, only lying when she knew God would forgive her. Yuki’s family agreed to visit the couple from time to time in Santa Barbara.

  Spencer had some money again, life was good, and so he and Yuki drove up the coast in a new, vintage Ford Mustang. He loaded his car with music cassettes and played tunes by the Swiss rockers Krokus on his way up on the 101.

  The Sandy Beach Inn was their new home. It was the weekend, and the nest had turned into a lively place. All the rooms were booked out weeks in advance, for the inn, was very popular among the people of L.A. Going up to Santa Barbara was fun and relaxing; the food delicious, and there was a fantastic party scene on the beach. The rooms at the inn remained noisy until the early hours of the morning. Yuki and Spencer moved to the rooftop suite. From there, they could see all the way out to Stearns Wharf. Breakfast, served at the reception, with tables set up on the cozy terrace outside. Umbrellas were available to shield guests from the sun. It was easy to remember all the guests, although Spencer had not seen the woman staying in Room 12 for the entire day. She had arrived late on Friday evening, dressed in white and talking to herself.

  Something about her piqued Spencer’s curiosity. He was trying to get more information about her, but he could not. Therefore, when she left the next day, he went into her room with the house cleaner. He found many recording tapes and a voice recorder. She had several white dresses hanging in the closet, all of them the same. There was a diary on her desk as well, along with a rose-colored pen. On her bed was a nightshirt with Betty Boop on its front, on the nightstand an open Agatha Christie book. Where is she now? Spencer wondered. Why has she not come out of her room all day?

  Spencer decided to check on her in the evening, but there was no answer when he knocked on her door. He first went back down to the reception, checking on the mystery women’s details, written into guest book, as Yuki had signed her in.

  He looked astonished at a stylish written name. Bette Davis! ‘What the cuckoo?’ ‘Yuki must have no Hollywood knowledge or sleeping when she accepted this name,’ he thought to himself.

  Spencer went back up using a duplicate of the room key; he went in, stood frozen and ran back outside, locking the door behind him.

  Urgently, he went to the reception desk and dialed the LAPD number.

  Same time by the beach, several people chased a pelican, trying to get the poor bird to stay still. Some people held his long beak, which resembled a sharp sword. Others touched its heavy body, reaching for its strong flapping wings. Those wings could break a person’s arm; one fearless man brushed past the pelican’s wings and opened its long beak. He reached right inside and removed a bloody knife. The pelican, released, seemed fine and he set off with swinging heavy wings.

  “This is Miller,” came the voice at the other end of the line. “Who is calling?”

  The California sky turned red.

  ‘It continues to hound me’ thought Spencer. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gasping for the fresh ocean air.

  “Miller? It’s me, Spencer, listen…..”

  Drop me a note: californiamotel@my.com

  Thank you

  RS

  Roger Specker and his three children only, own all copyrights.

  Berne convention

  Buenos Aires convention

  Universal copyright convention

  In memory of a good friend; Werner J.