Clarets of Fire Page 16

  “Sounds about right to me,” Mark said, giving me a sympathetic look. “And unless Brandon is smarter than he looks and acts . . . we’d have caught him by now if he was trying to sell Oxy. You don’t just walk along the Venice Boardwalk touting ‘opioids for sale.’”

  “Thanks, Mark,” I said, draining the last of my tea. I looked across the table and caught Marisol taking another donut from the pink box, but I was getting too dejected to do anything about it. I had bigger battles to fight. “Mark, were you able to confirm that the sale and bust your guys did all happened yesterday?”

  Mark grabbed his cell from his windbreaker and looked at the screen.

  “Yes, after some intensive questioning the guy said that he bought the drugs at around ten in the morning, and we busted him attempting a resale at one sixteen. And I know you’re going to ask this next, Halsey. He can’t identify the seller. He wasn’t given any names and the guy was wearing big dark sunglasses and a hoodie tied tight around his face.”

  “We’re still running leads on the owners of the strip mall,” Augie jumped in. “This is a real slippery cover-up, so it’s like peeling an onion back or opening a set of those Russian nesting dolls. Every time we think we’re getting down to the names of the real owners, another roadblock comes up.”

  I looked at Peggy and gave her a slight nod.

  “We’ve got something more to throw into the soup,” Peggy said, closing the cover to her tablet and leaning closer to the table. “It is going to both surprise you all and enlighten you. But I’m only talking after you spill what you’ve got, Mason.”

  Marisol got up, dragged her chair around next to Peggy’s, and gave Mason her death stare and gold-toothed scary grin.

  Two moms and three toddlers entered the donut shop, forcing us to tightly circle the wagons.

  “Rico Bruno has a sister,” Mason began.

  “So what?” Marisol said a bit too loudly. “I got eight of them.”

  We glared at her until she relaxed.

  “Her name is Aurora and she’s married to a guy named Matteo Ricci. They live here part of the year, but their permanent address is on the Italian island of Sardinia. What we have on them, him especially, is very thin at the moment, but this Matteo is thought to have committed insurance fraud on a number of occasions. His large family invests in real estate all over the world. This is way out of my department’s league, so we’ve gotten the CIA involved. None of you can say a word about this to anyone, you understand?”

  We acknowledged him, and I mimed a knife slitting a throat to Marisol.

  “This is why we have identified Rico and perhaps his relatives as our prime arson targets,” Mason concluded. “So, Halsey, what do you and your friend Peggy have to add to this?”

  “Again this goes no further,” Peggy started. “I was a field service asset for the CIA after the Korean war ended, working with the Santa Monica Airport.” She lets that settle with everyone before continuing. Marisol started petting Peggy’s sleeve, and I brushed her hand away. “It was a close-knit group back then. We all lived and worked in the Mar Vista neighborhood, had barbecues, babysat each other’s kids, and such. Some of those kids grew up and went into the family business, so to speak. That’s about as deep as I’m prepared to divulge. Anyway, from time to time, I might ask someone for a bit of news if the information is laying around.”

  Peggy flipped open the cover of her tablet.

  “This investment company Provident Commerce Group does not own the burned-down mall property nor any others in the Los Angeles area. They are a management service for shell corporations that retain ownership of the real estate.”

  Augie got his flip-up leather notepad out of his suit coat pocket and began taking notes. At that same moment one of the toddlers escaped his mother and wandered over to our table. He seemed to be fascinated with Marisol’s face. She gave him a smile, leaned in, and whispered to him, “This lady is going to give you ten bucks to go back to your momma. Do you want ten bucks?”

  Marisol turned to me and motioned with her pointy chin to the kid. I found two fives in my purse and passed it over. The kid disappeared faster than wood at a termite convention.

  “You’re acting like you have more information to impart, Peggy.” Mark retrieved a pitcher of ice water from the side counter and filled a paper cup for her.

  “I do, and this part saddens me terribly, given what Inspector Mason has just told us. My sources were able to track down paperwork identifying the actual company that has the deed to the strip mall. It is called Cagliari Mattoni e Malta. Cagliari is the capital of Sardinia and the other two words translate to ‘bricks and mortar.’”

  “Brava, Peggy.” I gave her a soft applause, but she didn’t look happy.

  “I sense that a shoe is about to drop,” Mark said, watching Peggy.

  “One of the principals in the company is a man named Matteo Ricci.” Peggy looked down almost in shame.

  “Wow,” said Mason. “So you and my department have been working two ends of the same stick. I don’t have time to deal with this now, but I promise to circle back the moment that I’m able. I don’t imagine that too many people know about your access to privileged intel at the CIA.”

  Inspector Mason briskly left the shop about the same time that both Mark and Augie got calls. Not long after they were gone too.

  “If no one else’s going to eat this last donut . . .” Marisol reached in for the kill.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  When I was a kid living on the East Coast, we called the night before Halloween Mischief Night. I would latch on to a group of older kids and watch them pull pranks like sticking a pin in a doorbell to make it ring constantly. Tossing rolls of toilet paper up and over tall pine trees was another favorite most often performed by the junior varsity football team. One year the guys took a VW Bug that was parked in a driveway and carried it over to the neighbor’s driveway.

  Still one of my all-time favorites.

  In California they don’t really have a name for Halloween Eve, and on Rose Avenue when the sun goes down the activities on the street are not unlike any other evening: grills are lit, dogs are taken on their post-prandial walks, and kids negotiate with parents for “ten more minutes” of playtime outside.

  So I was surprised when Penelope called that morning to suggest that we come out and stay the night as well as the night of Halloween and the harvest.

  “Some of our neighbors tell us that tonight is really something to experience out here in the hills of Malibu,” she informed me. “There are bonfires, hay rides, and all sorts of those quaint things you Yanks do.”

  “Wow, Penelope. As you remember here, it’s just another night in paradise.”

  “I know. When Malcolm found out about all the events, he said that it would be a shame for his in-town friends to miss it. Since you lot were all planning on driving up in the morning, do you think that you could push it forward and be here in time for supper? It will be simple . . . we’ll just do burgers and bangers on the grill.”

  It took me a moment to remember that the Brits call sausages “bangers.”

  “Sounds like a blast, Penelope. I’m going to convene an emergency Wine Club over the phone, and we’ll work out the logistics. I’ll give you a call once we’re on the road.”

  “Lovely, Halsey. See you soon!”

  * * *

  I am so excited! We all need this: two days of youthful exuberance and two nights of puerile friskiness. Hello!

  Sally needed to move around doctors’ appointments, Aimee was going to negotiate shift changes with her staff at the yogurt shop, and Peggy sped off to the nearest camping emporium to pick up the supplies that she insisted we needed to work outside after dark.

  The only one who was packed and ready to go was Marisol. And I found her that way when I knocked on her door to see if she could leave today instead of tomorrow morning.

  “Want me to put these in your car?” she asked, motioning to two small suitcases and
a suit bag with hangers sticking out of the top.

  “What’s all this? You don’t change clothes that much in a year to need all this luggage,” I said, wondering now if we needed to take two cars.

  “We’re going to be there for Halloween, and I need all the pieces for my costume. I guess you’re going as a wino, so all you’ll need is a bottle and a big glass.”

  “I resent that, Marisol.”

  “You resemble it too.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do.”

  I could have let this continue until one of us slugged the other, but I needed to talk to Jack about corralling the men.

  “The plan is to leave at four this afternoon and you’re only allowed one bag.” I left her to pare down her travel clothes and returned home.

  “Hello, my beautiful bride,” Jack said, picking up my call.

  “Hello back, to my handsome dog-training, wilderness-rescuing, beard-trimming, seafood-loving, and nude beach–going man.”

  He gave out a hearty laugh. “But we’ve never been to a nude beach, Halsey.”

  “Day ain’t over yet, pardner.” I felt the early onset of frisky coming on.

  I filled Jack in on the change of plans and explained that Sally’s husband Joe would prefer to leave tomorrow as he had afternoon classes to teach today. Wednesday was also better for Tom as he was waiting for the results of some lab work and needed time to go over it.

  “I know that you are jammed today, Jack, so could you drive the guys up to the winery tomorrow? You’ll need to swing by the Santa Monica Airport too. I told Peggy to have Charlie text his fight schedule and estimated arrival time.”

  “Sounds good, honey. Don’t get into too much trouble tonight; the farther north you go on PCH the closer you get to the ghosts of the Chumash demons.”

  “The what?”

  “You haven’t heard about this, Halsey? Do I finally get to scare you?”

  “No, you’re not scaring me . . . yet. Just give me the four-one-one about this myth.”

  “The Chumash tribe of Native Americans lived along the coast of Southern California some tens of thousands of years ago, Halsey. I know you love the history of California, so look them up. Anyhow, they believe that the demons are supernaturals of the lower world that show themselves to humans and can cause great joy and great pain. They are prevalent up around Santa Barbara County, and this is their favorite time of year.”

  While Jack was yammering on, I’d moved into my bedroom and surveyed my closet for something that I could MacGyver into a scary costume. Damn you, Marisol.

  “Okay, Jack, so what do I do if I encounter one of these demons? Is there a secret prayer that I need to utter? Should I take my invisibility cloak?”

  “Very funny, Halsey. I take it that you’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

  “What? Now you’re just messing with me, and I’ve got to get ready to leave. Love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I ended the call and pulled down the little overnight suitcase that I keep on the top shelf of my closet. I still didn’t have an inspiration for a costume.

  I wonder what Buffy would do?

  * * *

  I’d cleared out any unnecessary baggage from my trunk and neatly placed my one duffel bag smack up against one side.

  “What the heck is that, Marisol?”

  We were loading up the car, and with five of us plus Bardot, it was going to be a super tight fit. I decided to let Jack bring the wine corker gift, which was fine since it was still in his truck.

  “You said that I was only allowed one suitcase, Halsey.” Marisol had dragged this thing all the way across my lawn, leaving a strip of flattened grass in its path.

  “That’s not a suitcase, that’s a steamer trunk. The kind someone brings on the Titanic when they plan to make the long and dangerous trip across the Atlantic.”

  “I’m just doing what you told me,” she smirked.

  “Don’t worry, Halsey, we’ll tie it to the roof rack,” Sally said, appearing on the scene and trying to calm me down.

  “Marisol or the suitcase, either works fine for me.”

  “Remind me never to travel with you again,” Marisol said, sliding into the front passenger seat.

  “Oh no you don’t, missy. You and your short legs go in the back. Sally is sitting up here.”

  Marisol gave me an angry look but finally complied.

  “Hi, everyone!” Aimee joined the group toting a three-tiered portable cake carrier.

  “Oh boy, that looks like precious cargo.” Peggy studied the car’s space options. “Sally, do you think that you can ride with that between your legs during the drive? That would be the safest bet.”

  I cringed and waited for her response.

  “Peggy dear, it would be my pleasure.”

  Whew, did we just dodge a bullet?

  “This isn’t the sweetest thing that I’ve had between my legs, but it’s a close second!”

  And she went there.

  “Aimee, what about Isabella? Did she already drive up?”

  “Yes, Halsey. She went early this morning with all her prep and supplies for the pizza. She is just distraught that Rico won’t be able to be by her side.”

  “And Rico still refuses to say where he got the advance for the pizza oven, huh?”

  “Unfortunately, yes, Peggy.”

  His clamming up made the thought that Rico was working with his sister’s husband seem plausible. Which means that he could be working with a crime family. True or not he’s making it very difficult for us to help him.

  “Okay, have we got everyone on board?” I asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.

  “Aren’t you forgetting someone, Halsey?” Marisol grinned at me.

  I looked around, stumped.

  “Bardot!” they all screamed.

  Crap.

  I ran back into the house, got her, and locked up again. I had a feeling that I was going to need my number two in command more than ever on this adventure.

  Peggy had hopped back out and was reloading the luggage in the very back of my SUV to make a spot for Bardot. It was either that or go with the idea of putting Marisol on the roof and have Bardot be the third in the backseat.

  When we were once again all situated, I turned to Marisol.

  “Thanks. I would have been a very unhappy camper if I’d forgotten my best friend.”

  Marisol grinned, and for once it wasn’t evil.

  “We’re off. I hope everybody’s got everything they’ll need, because once we hit PCH I’m not turning back.”

  “Testicles, spectacles, wallet, and keys,” Sally said, touching the corresponding places on her body. “Yep, we’re all set.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  By the time we began ascending the serpentine road to the main house of the winery, it was close to six and the sun had definitely decided to punch out for the day. I was grateful that it had held off long enough for us to arrive, because I wouldn’t want to hazard that drive in the dark.

  I parked in the same spot that Jack and I had done on our last visit but was prepared to move the car when we found out where we would be staying. As soon as we came to a full stop, my passengers began spilling out of the car anxious to take in the splendor of the winery.

  “Welcome to the Abigail Rose Harvest weekend, my lovely friends.” Penelope approached us followed by a black ball of fluff that had doubled in size in just a few short weeks.

  “Malibu Rose!” I bent down to cuddle her, and Bardot decided to join in the huddle, sending me to the ground, which gave Malibu easy access to lick my face.

  “Marisol, come meet Malibu Rose, a giant schnauzer just like Jack’s dog Clarence. She’ll grow to be almost that big.”

  Marisol, showing the only sign that she’s still a little tender from her accident, lowered herself gingerly, and Malibu went crazy with excitement.

  “I’m keeping her,” she announced.

  “Perhaps not, dear Marisol. Th
e girl has become quite accustomed to having acres and acres of land to run free.”

  “Looks like she’s grown quite accustomed to you as well, Penelope.” Peggy gave her a warm hug.

  “I’ve never been here at night, and this place is just magical.” Aimee gazed along the mountaintop with moist, admiring eyes.

  As if on cue, warm, amber exterior lights began to illuminate the buildings, pathways, and majestic trees.

  “Does someone want to rescue these sweet delights from between my legs so that I can get out too?” we heard Sally plead from inside the car.

  “Oops, got it.” Aimee ran to the rescue.

  Penelope looked at me, not sure what to expect next.

  “Aimee has baked some much-anticipated pies, cakes, and other goodies for our stay. We were tight on space, so Sally was chosen to cradle them between her legs for the drive. Don’t worry, they are safely sealed in plastic containers.” I clarified the situation.

  “I wasn’t worried one bit, Halsey. Come along, everyone. You’ll be staying in the barn, which we only yesterday finished work on. Malcolm is beside himself with pride about this achievement, and I must say that I am too.” Penelope giggled and led us the short distance to a long, rectangular structure made of stone and concrete with a tin, high-pitched roof.

  Peggy hooked my arm and whispered, “It’s been a long time since I’ve laid down in a hay loft.”

  “I don’t think that it will be that rustic. Do you?”

  “We’re about to find out.”

  Sally was the first one through the heavy oak-paneled door that Penelope had pulled open with some effort.

  “Bless my soul and bring on the mariachis!” Sally followed that with a series of squeals and “oh mys.”

  “Something tells me that we’re going to be okay, Peggy.”

  Aimee and Marisol caught up, and the five of us stood staring in awe into the barn, acting as if the doors to Oz had just opened.

  “This is breathtaking,” Aimee whispered as if she were in church.

  “It sure is,” Peggy also whispered.