The Fox's Choice

by M A Simonetti

  I poured another cup of tea as I remembered the funeral home. I thought about seeing Bambi’s twin sister. I found myself stuck on the memory of the sister. Something bothered me about it. Not the initial shock of realizing the woman in Ralph’s was Zane’s mother. It was something else. As I started to pour another glass of wine, it came to me.

  Something Keith said.

  Something about how the sisters still looked alike.

  I put the teacup down.

  How did he know they still looked alike? When had Keith seen them? When had he ever seen them? Wasn’t he grown and out of the house when Bradley fathered Zane?

  I tried to remember the Bennett family history and who was who and who did what. I couldn’t seem to remember all the pieces of the story much less put them all together. I picked up the tea tray and returned it to the kitchen. It was going to take a good night’s sleep and a pot of coffee for me to sort through this.

  I headed upstairs to get the sleep, grateful for the guards outside. But just for good measure, I brought along a cleaver and slept with it under my pillow.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I awoke in the morning amid a swirl of feathers.

  Batting them away, I wondered if the guards butchered a seagull after all. But then I remembered the cleaver. I turned over my pillow. The sharp edge of the cleaver had sliced clean through, releasing the swarm. The ridiculous swirling feathers struck me as funny. It felt good to start a day with a laugh. And without a hangover.

  I showered, dressed and all but danced my way downstairs. I felt great and there were eggs and bacon waiting for me in the fridge. And the yummy muffins from the York kitchen. And coffee. Things were looking up. After breakfast, I would rethink everything once again.

  My kitchen looks out over the back deck, which hangs over the beach. It was a beautiful Malibu day and people were walking along the sand already. An awful lot of people for the first thing in the morning, I thought. Then I looked at the clock. It was nearly eleven. I’d slept over twelve hours. No wonder I felt great.

  I set the coffee pot to brew and went in search of my phone. I found it where it was supposed to be, plugged in and sitting on the desk in my home office. Between texts and emails, I had just under a million messages. No surprise there, I had all but ignored my correspondence while in Sacramento. Once the coffee brewed, I would tend to it. I sent a quick text to Jorjana and David, assuring them that I was alive.

  As I set the phone down, it rang. I didn’t recognize the number but the area code was 530.

  I know my California trivia well enough to know that 530 was Redding, California. Zane Daniels hometown.

  Curiosity made me answer.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Bambi, Zane’s mom. I need to see you but you can’t tell nobody.”

  “How did you get my number?”

  “Zane got everything about you,” Bambi said. “I got your social and date of birth and your mom’s maiden name. I can sell that and I might have to since that son-of-a-bitch hasn’t paid me yet.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She didn’t answer the question. There was a short silence. When she spoke, she spoke under her breath.

  “That son-of-a-bitch is screwin’ me out of the money he owes me. He’s gonna kill me! I know he is! You gotta help me.”

  “First of all, how do I know you are who you say you are? And why are you calling me?”

  Another pause. I waited. A knot grew in my stomach, I just knew whatever she told me was going to scare the hell out of me.

  It did.

  “My sister saw you at the service yesterday. You was there with Bradley and his asshole family. You was wearing black pants and a green sweater. I’m callin’ you because I know who killed Zane but I can’t go to the cops ‘cause they won’t believe me. I need help ‘cause he’s lookin’ for me. You gotta meet me someplace he can’t get to me. Someplace public.”

  “Why can’t you go to the police?”

  “I was there when it happened. The cops won’t believe me ‘cause I kept you drugged up while Zane transferred your money. Me and Zane was supposed to get half of it but that SOB didn’t pay me. And this is your fault anyway.”

  “How is this my fault?”

  “You was supposed to stay home after Zane transferred the money but you got all crazy and made Zane bring you along to his house. That’s what made him so mad. He didn’t know what to do with you.”

  “Zane was mad?”

  “No. Keith was mad. Keith hired Zane to get the money and he flipped out when Zane showed up with you. That’s why he killed him. I can prove it. Where can we meet?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  To say the call from Bambi was a shock is an understatement. Her accusations that Keith hired Zane would explain how Keith recognized the twin sister at the funeral home. But why would Keith want to steal my money? The guy was successful. He drove a Maserati. He offered to loan me money. He acted nothing like murderer and I actually have experience dealing with cold-hearted killers.

  It took me a moment to gather these thoughts. This did not endear me to Bambi.

  “What’s the matter with you?” She was not pleased with my hesitation. “You want your money back or not?”

  “I thought you wanted my money.” I may have been confused about Keith’s possible involvement but I was clear on who was after my money. She said that she and Zane were supposed to get half.

  That gave her pause. But not for long.

  “Look lady, I helped Zane get your money but I didn’t sign up for nobody to get killed. If I go to the cops they ain’t gonna listen to me and that SOB is gonna get away with killin’ Zane. I ain’t covering for him no longer. I got proof that Keith did it but you gotta take it to the cops. But I ain’t got time to waste. I’m scared he’s comin’ after me.”

  My little voice chimed in that something was amiss. Perhaps more than just one something. Bambi seemed to read my little voice’s mind.

  “OK, I wouldn’t turn down a reward or nothing.”

  That rang true somehow.

  “Lady, you gotta help me. I’m the only one who can prove that Keith did it. I know he’s lookin’ for me. Please.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  I admit, that was selfish, even for me. The woman was begging me to help her and I was negotiating a payout. But I had nothing left to lose. And frankly, that was her fault.

  Bambi went quiet long enough I wondered if she had hung up. When she came back on line, I thought I heard a bit of respect in her voice.

  “You want your money, right? I know how Zane moved the money around. You take the stuff to the cops and I’ll give you Zane’s passwords.”

  I remembered Jim saying something about figuring out Zane’s passwords was the key to returning my money. I also recalled that not telling him about my past as Teresa Bennett had slowed things down. Like any of this mess was my fault.

  “If you know the passwords, why haven’t you used them?”

  “Because I’ve been too fuckin’ busy hidin’ from Keith!”

  My head spun with the twists and turns of the past days. My life could not have been more upside down or inside out than it was at that moment. As hard as everyone was supposedly working on restoring my old life, I sure as hell didn’t feel like I was any closer to the old me. So in the desperation to restore my life to normal I was convinced that Bambi had the key to solving everything, I agreed to meet with her.

  I suggested meeting at the Beach Shack, a popular Malibu watering hole that comes with a full restaurant and plenty of clientele. She seemed to know where it was and demanded to meet right away. I agreed.

  Then I spent ten minutes trying to tell everyone concerned where to find me.

  As luck would have it, Richard couldn’t be reached and Jorjana was in physical therapy. The cops had been useless up to that point so I saw no reason to contact them until I had the evidence.

  I wasn’t worried abo
ut going alone. The Beach Shack, was indeed, very public. Even the parking lot was out in full sight. I would be perfectly safe.

  I grabbed my bag, locked my front door and told the guards that I was going out for lunch. They made me go back in the house, set the alarm and locked the door again. Then they showed me how to get my newly fortified garage door open.

  I wasn’t sure which car I would find in the garage. The last car I’d driven was the 1952 Porsche, which I left in the parking lot at Ralph’s. Once the brand new solid wood door swung up, I saw the Porsche had been replaced with the 1956 Fury- a beast of a car painted white with a pretty gold trim.

  The keys to the Fury hung on nail on the wall. From the looks on the guards’ faces, I suspected that habit was going to change soon. I waved good-bye as I pulled away. They were already on their phones. At least Rusty would know I had flown the coop.

  The drive to the Beach Shack gave me a little bit of time to think through Bambi’s accusation that Keith Bennett had hired Zane to steal my money. And then killed him.

  I had a hard time buying it. The guy was a successful businessman. He’d offered to loan me money. Sure, he was a bit cocky but I couldn’t see him as a thief. Much less a murderer. Having heard the story of Bambi and her sisters having babies for the child support, I had to wonder if this wasn’t another scheme dreamt up by her grifter family to extort more money from the Bennetts. Her ‘evidence’ had better be good. And the passwords better work.

  The Beach Shack is located smack dab on the sand in a very pretty cove. The place has been there forever, which explains its location right on the beach. There is a booth at the entrance to the parking lot where the parking fees are collected. It is a hefty sum but it keeps out the riff-raff. And it usually ensures that there are plenty of places to park. As I approached the booth, I saw the lot was packed.

  “What’s going on?” I asked the attendant.

  “They’re filming on the beach today, Mrs. Fox. There should be a spot over there.”

  The attendant pointed to grouping of big rigs at the far end of the lot.

  “I’m meeting someone here and I really need for her to get in. I’m not sure what she is driving.”

  I gave the guy a description.

  “No worries, I’ll let her in. She could be here already, too. I just came on duty.”

  I tipped him well for his help and went in search of a parking spot.

  I finally found a spot behind the big rigs. At least it would be in the shade. And undisturbed. I saw the film crew busy on the beach as I locked the car.

  On my way to the restaurant I stepped over cables and around screens set up to deflect light. Another day in the life of Malibu. Filming in Malibu is nearly as prevalent as the paparazzi- nuisances but a daily occurrence.

  The bar in the Beach Shack is one of my favorite places in town. It is dark and secluded- a great spot to unwind in a corner booth or to socialize at the bar. I opted for a table in the middle of the place with a clear view of the fJimt door. The bar was not busy- only a few regulars holding court at the bar. I nodded to them and I ordered an iced tea twice- the waitress didn’t believe me the first time- and settled in to wait for Bambi.

  I entertained myself by scrolling through my emails to see what was going on. The usual cornucopia of golf games and tennis matches, cocktail parties and brunches were scheduled for the weeks ahead.. I lead a busy social life and there were no signs of it slowing down. Jorjana’s birthday party, of course. I needed to talk to David about that.

  The waitress swung by to refill my iced tea and asked if I was all right. I assured her that I was. Then I checked my watch. Bambi was twenty-five minutes late. I wasn’t concerned. Getting from one end of Malibu to another can take forever and I had no idea where she started. I returned to scrolling.

  By the time the waitress returned for a fourth refill, my bladder was ready to burst and Bambi was an hour late. I tried calling the Redding phone number but there was no answer. Nor was there a voicemail.

  I asked the waitress to keep an eye out for her and hit the ladies room. She still wasn’t there when I returned. Miffed, I paid the bill- iced tea is cheap, who knew?

  I wondered if I had been played. Had Bambi tried to get me out of my house in order to burglarize it? Well, the joke was on her if that was the case. I doubted even Zane could hack into my house now.

  What were her crazy accusations about Keith? The more I thought about it, the more I felt that Bambi and her tacky bandana wearing family were, indeed, trying to extort money from the Bennetts. It was the classic case of the have-nots stealing from the haves. I would need to warn Jack and Keith and Bradley. I made a mental note to call them when I returned home.

  I was almost back to the Fury when my phone rang. It was Richard.

  “Where are you?” he barked.

  “Just leaving the Beach Shack. You won’t believe what happened.”

  Richard was silent as I told the tale. And he was quiet when I finished.

  It was not a good sign. Richard is never speechless.

  “I’m home. Come straight here,” he said.

  Something told me not to be annoyed that he neglected to say ‘please’.

  I fired up the Fury and drove straight to Richard’s house.

  “I think this is another attempt to get money from the Bennett’s,” I said to Richard. “What do you think?”

  When I arrived at Richard’s home he immediately asked for my phone. As I handed it to him some young kid appeared out of nowhere and raced away, my phone in his hand. Richard said the kid was one of Jim’s ‘guys’ and he needed to get some data. I wondered if the kid had wandered up during his recess break at school.

  Richard and I took seats in his living room. I sat on the uncomfortable leather couch. Richard crouched on an Eames chair like a panther on a tree limb. He was not happy with me.

  “Did you forget that Jim said that whoever knew where your money was probably killed Zane?”

  The look that Richard gave me and the silent scream from my little voice nearly knocked me to the floor. I had forgotten.

  “Do you think Bambi killed her own son?” I barely got the words out.

  “I think you need to let the people who are trying to help you do their job,” Richard said. “You should have called me before going to the Beach Shack.”

  “I did but I couldn’t get through to you,” I said. “Should I have called the police?”

  Richard didn’t like that. But he acknowledged contacting the police without him present was not a good idea.

  “You could have called Jim or Rusty. Or taken one of the guys at your house,” Richard said. “You should not have gone alone. There are too many variables at play here and you are still in danger.”

  “But we were meeting in public,” I argued. “And she is tiny. How could I have been in danger?”

  “She may be tiny but she knocked you out with a drug in a public place once already,” Richard said.

  Well, there was that.

  “Bambi knows what happened at that house,” Richard said. “Either she was there or she knows who was.”

  “She tired hard to convince me that Keith killed Zane,” I said.

  “Jim is looking into Keith,” Richard said. “I wondered about Keith’s comment about the twin sisters. I got the impression that he had seen Bambi recently and I found that suspicious.”

  “I thought the same thing, too,” I said.

  Of course, I thought of it hours after Richard had which is why he is the big time attorney and I am the client.

  “If Keith has financial problems it would certainly give him a motive for stealing your money. Hopefully Bambi will surface again. She seems to have the facts that we need.”

  “I wonder why she didn’t show up?” I asked.

  Richard shrugged.

  “Let Jim do his thing,” Richard said as he settled back in his chair. “All we can do is wait.”

  Richard lives alone in his big house but th
e place is always buzzing with people. Gardeners tend the to yard, someone minds the pool. A housekeeper cleans, a cook cooks and a house manager monitors it all. Richard’s two Russian wolfhounds spend most of their days lounging on chaises by the pool. They are beautiful dogs and better behaved than most Malibu children.

  As Richard and I talked, the dogs paced back and forth outside the sliding glass doors that lead to the pool. Richard rose from his chair and opened the doors to let them in. They raced through the living room straight to the front door. Then they whined to be let out again.

  “That’s odd,” Richard said.

  He opened the door- a massive thing carved out of mahogany. The dogs sprinted outside to the driveway. They circled my Fury a couple of times before jumping at the trunk and barking in frenzy.

  “What’s that all about?” I asked Richard.

  “Open the trunk,” he said.

  The Fury is not a modern vehicle that can be opened remotely. I walked around to the driver’s side and popped the trunk by pulling the lever under the steering wheel.

  The lip popped open.

  The dogs went wild.

  Richard and I reached the rear of the car at the same time. We both stopped in our tracks.

  A tiny woman lay curled up in the trunk.

  She wasn’t taking a nap.

  I was fairly certain her name was Bambi.

  Chapter Thirty

  Once again I’d found a body.

  Once again, Richard called the authorities.

  The driveway and road outside were quickly clogged with every police vehicle you can imagine. TV helicopters circled overhead.

  News vans camped outside the gate and sent the wolfhounds into a frenzy. Richard eventually hauled the dogs upstairs and locked them in his closet, which is slightly smaller than my entire beach house.

  The cops took my statement while Richard stood by my side. The cops didn’t seem to believe me. I’m not entirely sure I believed myself.