“If he went to all that trouble to get us those letters, he would have found a way to lead us to the clue that would open the box,” DJ says as he crushes his cigarette into my clean ashtray. “So how do we find the clue? It took forever to find that box.”
I pull into the Red Fox Lounge parking-lot and find a spot right behind the rear entrance. I help DJ down from the van and we walk into the bar, which is dark, quiet and cool.
“Bobby! DJ! I haven’t seen you guys in a long time. You guys look like you went twelve rounds with Mike Tyson.” Ray Felix, the longtime bartender, says to us as we sit down. He makes a big deal of checking out both sides of our heads. “At least he left you with your ears. What can I get you to drink?”
DJ says, “Two Coronas, Ray, and a couple of lunch menus, please.”
A couple of the regulars come through the front door and shake us by the shoulders as they pass us on the way to the back of the bar. “You guys look like shit. You get hit by a truck and forget to get the license plate number?” One of them says as they sit down at the far end of the bar to play the electronic trivia game.
“That’s it.” DJ pulls the sling off over his head and puts it on his lap.
Ray says, “I heard about your house, Bobby. I’m so sorry. If I can be of any help, please let me know.” He sets our cold beers down in front of us. He moves to the other end of the bar to help the other customers. When he comes back, we order lunch and another beer each.
I say, “Ray, you heard about Micky Webber, right?”
He nods. “It’s a terrible business, Bobby, just terrible. Micky was in here the night that he was killed. He was drinking beer and tequila shots and was pretty hammered. He was here by himself and he seemed to be really preoccupied. I tried talking to him, but he just sat there, staring out the window.”
“Did you tell the police about Micky?” I ask.
“No. I kept thinking they’d be by to ask me questions, but nobody came. Do you think I should report that he was here?”
“Did he say anything to you, Ray, anything at all?” I lean in and ask him.
“No not really. We talked about you a little, what great pals you were as kids.” He pauses, “Now that I think about it, he did say something. It was busy that night so it slipped my mind until now. He was kind of drunk, so I didn’t pay all that much attention.”
“What did he say, Ray?” I ask impatiently.
“He told me the next time you were in, to tell you that the key was in his head or something like that. I wasn’t really listening. It didn’t seem important and it didn’t make a lot of sense at the time. He left the bar right after that.” Ray looks at the door as two new customers come in, calling out for Ray to make them two of his famous Bloody Marys.
DJ and I look at each other, trying to make sense out of what Ray just said. We don’t want to talk about it while we’re in the bar, so we sit and eat our lunches in silence. We pay our tab and then drive back to the harbor to DJ’s boat where we’ll be able to talk about what Ray said in privacy. I unlock the boat and head below. I stop short, turn around and come back up.
“DJ, you need to see this.”
He walks over to the cabin door and looks down past me. “What the hell?” The interior of the boat had been trashed. The boat has been thoroughly searched, in a way to inflict as much damage as possible. DJ pushes past me into the cabin, royally pissed off. We’ve worked so hard to get this boat in shape.
“Let’s go talk to your nosy neighbor. He probably saw the whole thing.”
“No, he’s only here on the weekends. Doesn’t that just fucking figure? The one time I need him to not mind his own fucking business and he’s not around.”
“Let me call Murph.” I dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “He’s not answering. I don’t think we should wait. You’d better call the sheriffs’ office and file a report. Do you think they found the security camera in the bulkhead? We might be able to find out who did this.”
DJ is pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he storms over to the Harbor Master’s office.
There’s nothing I can do until DJ gets back, so I sit on the dock and wait. I hear a splash beside me as two dolphins surface then slide back under the water. They don’t come near the boats very often, but sometimes they get curious and come inside the breakwater. It seems odd to see something so peaceful in the middle of this shit-storm.
After about forty-five minutes, DJ rages back down the dock. “Your house, my truck and now my boat. The insurance company is going to flip out when I call them. There has to be at least twenty thousand dollars’ worth of damage done to the interior of the boat. Over a year’s worth of hard work ruined.”
“At least she’ll still sail. It was only the interior.”
“We can clean her up and sail her the way she is, but we’ll have to redo all of the woodwork and get all of the cushions redone. So much fucking work, down the tube.” He’s heartbroken, I can tell. Me, too.
“Thank God you sent Maria to her parents.”
“She’d freak. We can’t tell her.”
I nod my agreement. DJ lights a cigarette and we both sit on the dock and wait for the sheriffs to arrive.
Chapter 19
Alexis had followed them to Dana Point Harbor and saw the sheriffs arrive. This can’t be good, she thinks as she sits down at a table in a restaurant overlooking DJ’s boat slip.
She takes in the scene until the cops leave and DJ and Bobby leave to head back to the van. She gets up to follow them, throwing a ten dollar bill on the table to pay for her ice tea when she sees a man glance over at them, trying just a little too hard to look casual. She can’t see his face, but as he walks away, she knows she’s seen that walk before. She never forgot someone she’d followed, but she just couldn’t put a name or a face to this guy.
By the time Alexis gets to the parking lot, the man has disappeared. With all of the cars moving through the parking lot there was no way for her to pin down what he was driving. The face and the name would come back to her, sooner or later. She just needed to remember where and when she had seen that walk.
Alexis assumes that Paladin and Frasier went to DJ’s house, since they were running out of places to go, so there was no rush to follow them. She picks up her cell phone and punches in John G.’s number, informing him of her observations. She can’t answer all of his questions about why the cops are at the boat, but she tells him there might have been a break-in. He asks her to go to DJ’s house and if they are there, to sit on them for a while longer. They schedule a late dinner at the Beach House restaurant in Laguna, where she can give him a more detailed report.
Alexis watches DJ’s house until eight thirty and the van never moves. She sees no one suspicious lurking around, so she heads to Laguna Beach to meet her employer for dinner.
She pulls up to the Beach House restaurant at nine p.m. and hands the keys of her Toyota to the valet. The car is perfect for her needs: watching, waiting or just wanting to blend in with the crowd. She sees John G. on the deck, drinking a glass of wine, looking down at Main Beach in Laguna.
“Alexis,” he says as he stands up to greet her, “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering your martini.”
“Thank you, John. It’s been a long day.” She sits across from him and pulls her wrap around her shoulders. It’s a beautiful night, but it always gets chilly in Southern California after the sun goes down, even in the summer.
She looks at him and says, “There seems to be another player involved.”
He glares at her. “Another player? Who is it?” he snaps.
She’s startled by the intensity of his reaction. “I don’t know. I spotted someone following DJ and Bobby. I’ve seen him before, I know it, but I just can’t place him. I know that walk, though, and it’ll come to me. When it does, I think we’ll know who’s behind DJ and Bobby’s troubles.”
“Damn it, you need to find out who this person is, and quickly.”
A few
patrons on the deck look over at their table nervously.
“Forgive me, Alexis,” John says, lowering his voice. “I’m just concerned. I’d like to find the people responsible for the attacks. They need to be stopped.”
She looks up as the waiter delivers her martini, and nods her thanks. Once he’s gone, she looks John G. directly in the eyes. “I understand how important this is to you. I’ll get on it as soon as I get home tonight.” She takes a big sip of her drink. When the waiter walks by again, she orders another martini. John G. has never seen her have two before.
The rest of their meal is quiet without further incident. After she finishes, Alexis stands up before John can suggest dessert. “Thank you for dinner, John. I need to get home to do that research. I’ll see you at work tomorrow morning at the usual time. Goodnight.”
Before he can say anything more, she turns and walks out of the restaurant. She knows better than to let him see her anger, but she’s pissed. How dare he question how she did her job? As she waits for her car, she can’t get over John’s reaction. She’s seen that side of him before, but rarely and it worries her. The valet brings her car around and she distractedly tips him twenty dollars. He stares at the bill in his hand, shrugs as she pulls out just a little too fast, but still in control. Alexis is always in control.
◆◆◆
John G. leaves the restaurant shortly after Alexis, but neither of them notice the tall, heavy set man, sitting quietly in his car. Using the telephoto lens, he’d watched them all through dinner, taking a few pictures, just as The General had instructed.
He had debated about setting up the sound capturing device. It hadn’t looked like they’d said much to each other during dinner, but he sure would have liked to hear the first five minutes of their conversation.
Chapter 20
Murphy goes home after a long day at work to relax with his wife and kids. He had promised to take them to a movie, so they load the kids into the car. He debates about taking out a second mortgage on the house to pay for the evening, but decides to put it on his credit card. When did it go from fifty cents for an afternoon at the movies to costing the same as a car payment?
As much as he tries not to, all he can think about during the movie is the puzzle box. He wonders if his kids had ever seen one. Maybe he’ll ask them. Maybe he should look them up on the Internet after Debbie and the kids go to bed tonight. The movie is too short to have cost that much. They head home for dinner. He’s just started the barbeque when his cell phone rings. He checks the number - his boss. Shit.
“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?” Murphy listens as his boss tells him what had happened at DJ’s boat. Not one of the neighboring boat owners noticed any strangers or saw anything. So far, the majority of prints found were Frasier’s and Paladin’s but also his own.
“Do you mind telling me why your prints were found at a crime scene I just found out about?” says Captain Sprague.
Murphy wonders how much he should tell his boss. “I’ve been down there talking to Bobby and DJ, trying get more information on the Webber case. We have some history. We all grew up here together, you know, and I thought if I approached them in a casual atmosphere, they’d be more forthcoming. Too many things have happened since Webber’s death to be a coincidence.” Whew. That sounded pretty good.
“Good thing none of your prints were found below deck. If you’re such pals, how come you didn’t know about the boat being broke into and being torn apart?”
“Well,” Murphy stalls for a minute, “I was off duty and I took the kids to the movies. I had my phone turned off and just turned it back on.” Murphy had seen that Bobby had called, but he hadn’t left him a message, so he’d planned to call him back after dinner.
“You’re way behind on your paperwork on this, Murphy,” the captain snaps. “I want an update on my desk tomorrow morning, first thing.” Without saying goodbye, he hangs up.
Debbie comes out to the patio with a platter of hamburgers and looks at her husband staring at his phone. “Is everything all right, honey?”
Murphy turns to look at his beautiful wife, and pulls himself together. He leans over to kiss her, puts his phone in his pocket and takes the platter from her. “Everything’s fine, just some paperwork I need to get to the captain tomorrow morning.”
“Was that him? Why is he calling when you’re off duty?”
“You know how he is,” he turns toward the barbecue and starts putting the burgers on the grill. She wraps her arms around his waist and leans into his back. She gives him a squeeze, then lets go to set the patio table for dinner.
When dinner is finished, Debbie asks the kids if they want to go for ice cream.
“Is it okay if you go without me?” Murphy asks his wife. “I should get started on this report right away. The captain is right; I’m really behind on my paperwork.”
“We might hit Costco for ice cream, then. I can grab a few things we need while we’re there.”
He loves his wife so much. She knows how much he hates Costco and with her and the kids there, he’ll have a couple of hours.
After they leave, he cleans up the kitchen, loads the dishwasher and turns it on. He walks into his home office and while he waits for his computer to boot up, he wonders how to keep himself from getting fired. The report he’ll have to turn in to the captain is going to be less than truthful, but he just doesn’t know who he can trust anymore.
His types in a Google search for Japanese Puzzle Boxes. There are so many sites. How come he has never heard of these things before? Over the next hour he learns that the good puzzle boxes are still hand-made, and the really fancy ones can take well over a hundred moves to open them. How could they even determine how many moves I’ll take to open this one? None of the pictures online look even close to the puzzle box Bobby found. On the third Google page, Murphy discovers there’s a Japanese Exhibition at the Bowers Museum in Santa Ana. Maybe, just maybe, there’s someone there who can help them open the damn thing.
Murphy’s fingers stop on the keys. Shit. He doesn’t even know if Bobby still has the box. Maybe it was stolen by whoever trashed the boat. He picks up his phone to call Bobby just as he hears the garage door open. He puts down his phone, puts the printouts in his briefcase and heads to the kitchen to help put the kids to bed and have a drink with his wife. Talking to Bobby will have to wait until later.
Chapter 21
I take off and look back quickly to see no one is behind me. I drop in, cranking a huge turn off the bottom of the wave. Racing up the face, I smack the lip hard, pushing my surfboard through, floating along the top, dropping back onto the face of the wave. Cranking another quick turn, I see a sweet tube ride opening up. I crouch down, get covered and am about five feet back as the wave keeps throwing out in front of me. I keep tucked down and after being covered up in the tube for about six seconds, I explode out.
“Woo hoo!” I shriek as I kick out of the wave.
I love Salt Creek: the water is a bright sea-foam green and the winds are blowing in from the east, causing an off-shore effect. The water is the only home right now. I can relax and think. And I have some serious thinking to do I have to figure out what Micky meant when he told Ray the key to the box was in his head. How could it be in his head if he thought he was going to be killed?
I paddle back out into the lineup, still thinking. It might be time to call in some favors. I’d traveled the world surfing, but while the other surfers went to bars to pick up girls and party after the contests, I’d spent my days in museums and antique shops. I loved looking at art and learning about a country’s history. While on a surf trip to Japan, I’d spent an afternoon in the National Museum in Tokyo. One of the tour guides caught my eye that day proving there are better places to meet girls than in bars.
The first time we met, I was taken in by her beauty. She spoke perfect English, as well as Japanese. She told me her father was an American naval pilot and her mother was Japanese. She had grown up in Hawaii and
had modeled in Japan for a while. She was smart enough to know that modeling is a tough gig, but her parents didn’t have the money to send her to University. We spent time together on that trip to Japan and I fell in love with her. She’d come to watch me compete, but after I returned to the States, I didn’t see her for a long time. When I found out I’d qualified for the surf contest in Hawaii, we arranged to meet there.
It was while I was in Hawaii recovering from my wipeout at Pipeline that I found out that she and John G. had begun a relationship. Thinking back, it was hard to blame either of them. She was beautiful and he was rich, but dude – nothing like kicking a guy when he’s down. She came to visit me and it was then that she told me he had offered to pay for her education. I found out later she earned her degree in Japanese History, specializing in Japanese myth and religion, but now John G. controlled her. She had an obligation toward him. Once I recovered from the wipeout, I knew she couldn’t be mine and his at the same time. All I could see in my mind was them that way: having sex. I couldn’t stay and she couldn’t leave, and that was that. I hadn’t spoken with her in years, but if I could find her, I think she might know someone who could help us open the puzzle box. It would have to be an expert because we’d only get one chance at it.
I turn around, paddle hard and drop into another epic wave, pull up into a deep barrel and ride it almost to the beach. I jump off my board, pick it up and start walking out of the water. I get to the van and find a note flapping on the windshield. It doesn’t look like a ticket, thank God.
Meet me for breakfast at Adele’s at 9 a.m.
- Murphy.
I look at my watch. I have just enough time to hit the outdoor shower and pull on my clothes to get to Adele’s Restaurant on time. I hope he’s buying.
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