by Rex Bolt
Anthony pulled up and Pike noticed another person with him, and son of a gun it was Andrea. He should have expected this. Anthony looked him over but didn’t say anything, and Andrea politely got in back and let Pike sit up front.
Pike made the mistake of asking Anthony if he was doing anything over Christmas, and Anthony went into a whole long speech about how yeah, he’d gotten a job unloading pallets overnight at Costco, and all the exciting specifics that went along with that, though Pike did feel a little guilty that he hadn’t rounded up any job himself.
Then about halfway back to Beacon Anthony blurted out, “My girlfriend here, she says you invited her to your basement.” Anthony was chewing gum and his eyes were on the road, and his expression didn’t change.
Pike tried to find Andrea back there with the corner of his eye but couldn’t. He said, “I did . . . In fact what about tonight later? You guys doing anything?”
Anthony said they weren’t, and that was a possibility, and Pike felt like the guy was okay with it now and he’d dodged a bullet. They dropped him off . . . and speaking of the basement, screw it, Pike decided he wasn’t going to avoid Jack any more, plus it could be interesting to see who else might be down there. And right now he could use a little change of pace.
It looked like his parents were home, both cars sitting there, though he didn’t see Jack’s parked on the street, but either way he went around back and used the outside entrance.
One thing that seemed pretty curious . . . why would Andrea tell Anthony he offered to show her The Box? . . . And had he even? He couldn’t really remember. Andrea had said something about liking the challenge of climbing over the wall, but Pike was thinking she’d invited herself, after he’d mentioned the place for some reason . . . Whatever.
He hoped they wouldn’t show up tonight, regardless. He already had his hands full keeping Jocelyn happy this time at the movies, let’s see how that went first before you piled on.
Pike knocked on The Box first just in case, and then dropped in. No one home, but just like the other time, there was a lingering fragrance. It might have been slightly different than last time, more flowery maybe, but it was equally fresh, and the traces of recent human presence seemed pretty obvious.
Pike’s laptop was sitting there still open, though someone had hit the pause button on the radio thing, apparently having had enough of Big Dave Burke on the noon to 3 show on 620 KFCB.
He was surprised to see his phone there as well. It was correct not to bring it with him, but it was sloppy to leave it in The Box and not up in his room.
In any case, he checked his messages and there were two from Andrea, that had come in a couple hours ago, when he was away. This was starting to get weird now, and he deleted them without reading them.
And there was one from Dani. Pike was a bit concerned about this one. She didn’t text him often, and when she did it was usually to answer one of his, though anything was possible. But still, he felt he should get back to her . . . even though right now, sinking into the beanbag chair, he sure could use a monster nap.
“Oh hey hun,” Dani said. Jeez, hun now. Pike thought of the waitress he had at the cafe in Orland shortly after he arrived there, who called everyone hun.
“What’s up?” Pike said. “Or how’s tricks?” He was started to feel a little punch-drunk, all the tension of the last several hours working its way out.
“I’m sure you’re bracing yourself, that this about me again . . . more bad news.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, yeah.”
“I’ll get that out of the way then, there’s nothing to report in that regard, no updates.”
“Good. Except you’re still under house arrest, so to speak, at the motel and all.”
“True enough, but I’m finding it’s okay actually, the scene here. And there’s a social element to it as well . . . If you have to wait something out, this isn’t a terrible place to have to do it, honestly.”
Pike didn’t like the sound of that. “What kind of social scene?” he said.
“Oh, just a few gals I’ve met. They’re flight attendants actually, they live here part-time . . . Also a gentleman, a distinguished one.”
Fuck. “WHAT are you doing, with some other dude?” Pike said.
“Hun, let up, will you? You are in Siberia on this one. I could not be in the company of a more upstanding individual . . . and for Gosh sake’s, I’m not even in his company, I simply see him in the bar occasionally for a drink.”
Pike gave it a second. He was feeling pressure mounting in the right side of his head, half-way up. “And then after that . . . you retire to the hot tub, is that it? Bringing those couple of drinks along?”
It was a cheap shot, but so what.
Dani said, “I’m not going there . . . do you want to know what I messaged you about though?”
“Fine,” Pike said.
You could hear Dani take a deep breath and then exhale.
“This may not be good,” she said. “There was an incident last weekend at an airshow in Ohio. A patron went nuts apparently, and started physically beating up members of the crowd, who were standing in a designated area watching the display . . . You know what airshows are, right? Vintage planes, and stunts and related activities.”
“Come on,” Pike said.
“It was random, as though the person was consumed by some sort of psychotic break . . . There were major injuries, but luckily thank God, everyone is out of the woods and expected to live.”
“But what.” Pike did not have a good feeling about this.
“This perpetrator, a male in his 50’s--I don’t mean to sound like the authorities--but this guy was very difficult to subdue. It quite literally took almost an army.”
“Ah man,” Pike said. “This was where I was afraid you were going . . . Sooner or later, you knew it was coming, some psychopath goes to the wrong dentist, gets hooked up with our same crap.”
Dani said, “Well they arrested him, so at least that part is good for now.”
“That’s not good enough. Sooner or later, something’ll happen again . . . They’re not aware of what they’re dealing with.”
“Yes, but please hear me out. Here’s the kicker . . . You remember my online friend, right? The New Yorker?”
“I know who you’re talking about,” Pike said, getting a very sick feeling now.
“Pike . . . this man . . . in Ohio. He was one of the organ recipients . . . from Erline’s . . . my friend’s . . . husband.”
Pike didn’t say anything, and Dani kept going. “The way these things work, they are supposed to be 100 percent confidential . . . Unless both parties agree to a waiver . . . Which Erline never did. But . . . him being law enforcement and all, her late husband, word travelled quickly, and the connection was made and the information found its way to Erline.”
“How many were there?” Pike said, fully focused now.
“Excuse me?”
“How many others were there, who received transplants from this donor?”
“That I’m not sure of. I could ask Erline, she may or may not know.”
“We need to find the others,” Pike said. There was a matter-of-fact, yet firm, declarative edge to his words, which took Dani by surprise . . . And maybe Pike himself, as well.
“If I’m following you correctly,” she said, “you’re concerned this man . . . in Ohio . . . may have been adversely affected by the transplant? Do you mean not just physically, but mentally as well?”
“We don’t know,” Pike said.
Chapter 16
Jocelyn threw him a curveball and wanted to see a foreign movie she’d heard good things about. That would be the last way Pike wanted to spend a couple hours tonight, but what could he say.
The movie was playing at a theater you never went to, a place called The Surf which was out near the old animal sanctuary that they moved a couple years ago to Fresno.
Jocelyn was in pretty good spirits and pretty talkative,
as though their relationship was steady and Pike walking out on her last weekend was forgotten about. She said a few things that just didn’t resonate with him at all though, which he guessed were more references to stuff that happened between them that he didn’t know about . . . meaning before he came back from Chico and joined the current reality . . . but he had the hang now of faking it.
They started off in their seats, he had his arm around her and she was leaning on his shoulder and they were working their hands around each other’s to get a handful of popcorn.
Then the movie got kind of grim, and Jocelyn leaned the other way. The film was Iranian of all things. Pike couldn’t figure out the language they were speaking, he didn’t think there was a language actually called Iranian, but you read the subtitles and you stayed up to speed.
It wasn’t bad, it was more compelling than you would have thought. Pike was thinking it was the kind of story that could hit a nerve wherever you happened to live. There’s an earthquake and they have to move out of their apartment and stay in another one, but then the door in the new place gets left unlocked by accident and it goes from there.
The women in the movie, and Pike assumed in the country period, had a tough life, and maybe it was because of that, who knows, but Jocelyn wanted to leave.
Pike was enjoying himself by that point, the reverse of what he expected, and he wanted to find out if and how they were going to catch the guy. Jocelyn stuck it out for another 10 minutes and told him, in a regular tone of voice now, not worried about keeping it down, that if he didn’t come with her they were going to have a major issue.
So Pike got up and left with her and when they got in the truck he asked what she wanted to do now and she said she wasn’t sure. Pike suggested maybe bowling, a little mini golf, some go-kart racing . . . or just cruising around, see what might develop.
Jocelyn looked up from checking her phone, and told Pike he was a nice guy, and she couldn’t pinpoint it, but he’d changed. She said it would be best if they didn’t date each other for a while.
Of course when you put it like that, what you’re really saying is this is stupid, it’s all over.
Pike was a little stunned. He didn’t say much, he just threw it in gear and drove her home, and he watched her unlatch her gate and angle toward the front door, and then she disappeared inside, though she did give a little wave at the end but the energy level was nil.
He drove away slowly, trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t the worst thing, he’d live, it might even be for the best, but it was still tough getting slapped around.
Besides feeling a little sorry for himself, the day was hitting him hard now, and when he turned on 7th Street and crossed Miller he thought he noticed something else.
There was a house, big, set back, an old wood-frame job like you see with the wide wrap-around front porch. There were four people getting out of a Mercedes and heading toward it, two men, two women, and they were dressed fancy, the men in shiny blazers the women in tight skirts and low cut tops, and Pike could have sworn one of the women was Frankie the librarian.
He was tired, and also was passing by at 25 miles an hour, and anything was possible . . . but it sure looked like Frankie.
Anyhow, thankfully his parents and brother and sister were out, and he opened the fridge and took a long swig of orange juice directly from the carton, and pretty much collapsed on the living room couch with the TV changer in his hand.
He flipped channels and settled on House Hunters which was sometimes fun, you saw how people lived other places and you pictured yourself there. There was one finishing up from Richmond, Virginia, and Pike was about to pack it in for the night except he noticed the preview for the next one, and it was Palm Springs.
Nothing to do with Dani exactly, but you got a feel for the atmosphere, and in this one you had a guy and his wife, the guy was a pilot, doing a smart thing, looking for a condo down there that had the right ingredients, so they could rent it out easily when they weren’t in town.
You could get into the idea of Palm Springs, Pike could see that. It had a little of the flavor you found in Manhattan Beach, minus the ocean of course, but you had the same easygoing, friendly, sunshiny pace and people seemed happy.
Dani though, he was thinking again now, seemed too happy. Could she really be hooking up with another person, and once again for the wrong reasons . . . when she’s about to be friggin on trial for murdering the previous one?
And that wasn’t even including what happened to Marcus before that, or whatever the dude’s name was who ended up in the wall.
The House Hunters episode ended, the pilot and his wife made the right decision, they bought the one that was turn-key and needed no work, and Pike shut off the TV and went upstairs to go to bed.
He was brushing his teeth when the doorbell rang.
On no. He’d made the mistake in Anthony’s car of inviting them over. No way did he mean it, but it was the right move at the time, spur of the moment, to allay Anthony’s suspicions about whether something was brewing between him and Andrea.
And naturally it was Anthony standing there, no surprises, with Andrea tagging along, holding onto his arm.
“We’re not disturbing you or nothing, are we?” Anthony said. “You’ve looked better, to be honest.”
“Nah, I was hoping you’d stop by,” Pike lied. “Come on in . . . The Box, the place you were asking me about, it’s downstairs, so we can do that.”
“It truly is a lovely home,” Andrea said. “When I spoke to your mom, I couldn’t really see in, so I didn’t appreciate it as much.”
Oh my God. What was this person’s problem?
“When’d you speak to his mom?” Anthony said.
“Where’s Jocelyn by the way?” Andrea said. “Is she going to meet up with us?”
“Nah, I dropped her off . . . Not that long ago in fact . . . We saw an interesting movie, ‘The Salesman’ I think it was called.” Pike was hoping this might deflect what Anthony had just asked about, but it didn’t.
“You spoke to his mom?” he said again.
“Yes I did,” Andrea said. “Pike invited me to go for a jog, but he’d already left.”
“Let’s head down there,” Pike said, trying again to re-direct it. “The trick is, the only wrinkle, you have to use the rope, then you’re on top. Piece of cake at that point.”
Pike opened the door to the basement stairs and Anthony and Andrea followed but Anthony’s expression was not good, his eyes were narrow and he was clearly trying to sort things out.
Pike showed them the set-up, and was talking all about it to distract Anthony, how it came about, him and Jack, the concept, and then them forgetting the door part but it turning out better this way, in the end.
“Cute. Reminds you of a children’s fort,” Andrea said.
Pike didn’t appreciate The Box being referred to that way, but he had to admit she wasn’t completely off. He said, “Welp, whatever. Sometimes that’s not the worst thing I guess.” He didn’t know what he was saying exactly, but Anthony surprisingly chimed in, “No it’s not.”
So maybe that tension part had diffused, but the thing now, adding to the increasingly awkward stress level, was Andrea was wearing a skirt, and not that long of a one.
Pike said, as casually as he could, “You wanna . . . borrow some sweats, or something?’
“Thank you, I’m fine,” she said, and she took off her shoes and grabbed the rope, getting ready to climb up, and Pike said he’d be right back and went in the little bathroom that was down here and washed his hands for a minute to kill time, and when he came out he called over there and Anthony said they were both in.
That part was fine, but either way this was one strange girl. She was mischievous, Pike was convinced, but there was an intrigue part as well, which was a little hard to shake off.
Pike was about to ask them if they wanted anything to eat or drink, but one of them had started playing the drums, so he went upstairs to see wh
at might be available. There wasn’t much, except one of those assorted 24 packs of beer that his dad would pick up at Costco, heavy-duty bitter stuff that Pike couldn’t tolerate at all, but he grabbed three bottles and nabbed some salami out of the fridge for good measure and went back down.
Right about then the side door started making some noise and who comes strolling in but Hannamaker.
The drums had stopped for the moment and Pike made eye contact with him and pointed toward The Box with his head and said quietly, “Well, the gang’s all here.”
Jack mouthed “Who?” and Pike told him, and Jack said well, don’t mind him, he was going to crash on the couch, and Pike could smell some liquor on him as he passed by.
“Tough evening?” Pike said, and Jack answered over his shoulder, “Tell me about it.”
Pike passed half the stuff over the wall and came back down for the rest and lo and behold the doorbell rings again. Hard to hear from down in the basement but just loud enough where you could make out the sing-song tune.
Hmm . . . who could this be now? There weren’t too many options left.
Pike went upstairs and opened up and Cathy Carlisle was standing there decked out pretty nice, with none other than . . . sheepish, staring at his feet, a big cast on his right hand . . . Foxe.
Pike didn’t know quite what to say, so Cathy said, “Is Jack here?”
Pike said, “I think he’s available . . . do you want me to check? Or . . . you can come on in if you want.” Hoping they wouldn’t, but that wasn’t going to matter.
They followed Pike inside, and he pointed the way to the basement and he tried not to look at Foxe as he passed by, though it seemed like you could smell liquor on him too.
The other thing that made this weird of course was Pike, at least according to Hannamaker, had incredibly given Foxe and Cathy a key to the basement. That had also been pre- his return from Chico, so he wasn’t aware of it, but either way it was a moment of lunacy. Obviously this time, considering the hand incident, Foxe and Cathy decided ringing the bell was the more sensible option.