Scarlet Oaks and the Serial Caller

by Michaela James

  “Well, I should hope so,” Tom retorted. “We’ll be throwing another unforgettable party. Did we tell you it’s masquerade?”

  “No,” Scarlet replied, “but I’m pretty sure I have a mask or two.”

  Tom waved an arm in the air. “I have a hat box full if you need one.”

  “What about you, James?” Niles enquired.

  James wrinkled his nose. “I may need help with that.”

  “Wait right there!” Tom exclaimed excitedly, leaving the room.

  Rolling his eyes, Niles volunteered, “I’m going to grab us some eats.”

  The hosts having left the room, Scarlet seized the opportunity to say, “James, please don’t feel obligated to get involved with this whole, catch a killer thing.”

  Her ‘Concentration’ partner smiled warmly. “If you allow it, I’m all in. I realize we barely know each other, but I’d like to remedy that fact.”

  Trying to curtail a large smile she felt forming, Scarlet replied, “I’d like that too.”

  “I think you’ll find something suitable amongst this lot,” Tom breathlessly proclaimed, placing a large navy colored box in front of James.

  Her spirits lighter than they’d been in some time, Scarlet giggled as James pulled varied faces with each mask he tried on.

  Once an elaborate pirate mask was voted the winner, the four friends drank vodka Collins and nibbled on Bruschetta. The conversation went from silly to beyond silly, as they debated what other spy gadgets may be available to them.

  At the evening’s end, Scarlet looked up as James held her car door open. “I feel as if we’re starting off on uneven footing.”

  James looked concerned, and Scarlet quickly explained, “You know a lot about me, or I should say, what’s going on in my life right now, and I know very little about you.”

  “Would you permit me to bore you, I mean fill you in, on all those missing details, tomorrow at the radio station?” James asked brightly.

  Thinking for a moment, Scarlet said, “I’ll let Detective Smyth know you’re stopping by. Would you mind texting me your car make and license number?”

  “Consider it done,” James replied with a grin.

  Positioning herself behind the wheel, Scarlet enquired, “Do you like hot chocolate?”

  “Oaks!” came a young, female voice from the top of the stairs.

  Grateful and relieved to see Sylvia’s smiling face, instead of a flashback from the last visit to this stairwell, Scarlet said, “Am I glad to see you.”

  Both women having arrived early were afforded plenty of time to share their news. Scarlet would have happily stuck with the Hawaiian Islands, but it wasn’t long before Sylvia said, “I had a visit from some hot looking detective today.”

  Scarlet frowned, “Detective Smyth?”

  Nodding her head, Sylvia confirmed, “That’s him. Is it true Andree came back to the station and tried to hurt you?”

  With an exaggerated turned down mouth, Scarlet nodded in response.

  “Oaks, I’m so sorry,” Sylvia said, staring into her empty cup. “If I hadn’t been so stupid and fallen for such a loser, this never would have happened.”

  Reaching across the high console and touching Sylvia’s hand, Scarlet replied, “There is only one person to blame for this happening, and that’s Andree. I’m fine, he’s in jail, and it’s almost a new year, with endless possibilities for you and me.”

  Giggling, Sylvia said, “I told my brother, Sam, all about you, how you’re always so positive with everything.”

  Scowling and smiling simultaneously, Scarlet said, “Tell me more about your Christmas in Hawaii.”

  Taking a deep breath, as if she were about to dive into water, Sylvia began, “The dufus was drinking heavily every day of course. He’d flirt with all the waitresses and make stupid jokes over and over about the leis. He was a nightmare! Every female he saw, from our room attendant to the girls behind the bar, he’d ask about nude beaches. I guess there’s one called the Donkey. You can imagine where he went with that. Sam and I got expert at ditching him, though. Then we felt so sorry for Mom, we took her with us. We’d return to the hotel at the end of the day, saying we’d looked everywhere for him and could never find him. He didn’t have the nerve to say that he was right where we’d left him, propping up the lobby bar.”

  Barely hearing her cell phone over the laughter, Scarlet smiled at Sylvia and hit the talk button.

  Blushing, as she ended the call, Scarlet, explained, “There’s a guy on his way up here, who maybe, kind of, perhaps down the road, a boyfriend of sorts.”

  “Sounds serious, Oaks,” Sylvia said with a sarcastic smile.

  “How do I look?” Scarlet enquired.

  Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Stunning as always.”

  Standing and squeezing the younger girl’s shoulder, Scarlet glanced at the console. “Oh no, look at the time!”

  Sylvia pushed her stool back. “You’re live in two minutes.”

  Moving back to her place by the mic, Scarlet asked, “Would you mind chatting to him for a bit, until I get my bearings?”

  Sylvia grabbed her purse. “Sure, no problem.”

  As the studio door began to close, Scarlet called out, “His name’s James.”

  Watching Sylvia shake James’ outstretched hand, Scarlet leaned in towards the mic. “Thank you for calling Mending Men. This is Scarlet, how can I help?”

  Turning her gaze from the two people in the corridor, Scarlet focused on her computer, ready to open the appropriate window.

  Once the caller announced himself as Barry, from Daly City, Scarlet knew assistance from the internet wasn’t needed.

  “I’ve got some advice for all the lonely, horny men out there,” he began.

  Despite a few sarcastic retorts on the tip of her tongue, Scarlet resisted the urge. “What’s your advice, Barry?”

  “It’s now or never!” Barry replied dramatically.

  Scarlet waited out the pause until he continued. “Women are desperate on New Year’s Eve. The year didn’t go how they planned, so they make one last ditch attempt at finding love. The booze is flowing, and that old land something song is playing. Guys if you don’t score now, you never will, you know what I’m saying?”

  Closing her eyes momentarily, Scarlet responded, “I’m sure the Bay Area appreciates your dating tips, Barry. Happy New Year to you.”

  Apparently sober enough this time to detect sarcasm in Scarlet’s voice, Barry reiterated the need for a sympathetic male DJ. Cutting him off, Scarlet said, “Here’s a song for you, Barry. What becomes of the broken hearted? by Jimmy Ruffin.”

  Sighing as she turned to see Sylvia open the door for James, Scarlet invited them to sit down. Declaring she had P.I.B. duties to take care of, Sylvia left, pulling the heavy door behind her.

  James looked around the small studio. “This is so cool.” Reading the messages on Scarlet’s posters, he added, “I sit in a cubicle, in which I look eerily like every other man sitting within twenty feet of me. We all put our suit jackets over the back of our chairs. At ten a.m., we take a short stroll around the building, all going in the same direction of course, or it’s like swimming upstream.”

  Giggling, Scarlet interjected, “At least, it’s daylight. I should have a pet bat in here.”

  Laughing, as he slid onto the high stool opposite Scarlet, James said, “I enjoy this station’s music.”

  “It’s a little more our parents’ genre,” Scarlet said, “but I’m getting into it too. On my top forty show, I had to keep up with all the latest artists and all the gossip of said artists. With this new gig, I can just pick songs I think will appeal to my new market.”

  “What is that market?” James enquired.

  Enjoying his interest, Scarlet replied, “Well, all men of course and the data from our last survey put the listeners between thirty and fifty-five.”

  Nodding, James eyed her colorful console. “That looks complicated.”

  Shaking her head,
Scarlet turned her attention to the control board. “I agree the size is daunting, but in reality, I only use a third of these buttons.”

  Seeing the on-hold light flash, Scarlet continued, “Here’s a couple I use often. This one turns the music bed on and off, and this one answers the call-in line.”

  James listened eagerly as Scarlet recited her signature welcome.

  “All I want to do is thank you,” the caller said.

  Scarlet, while attempting to silence her gasp, turned to look at James. Eyes wide, he mouthed, “the guy?”

  Nodding in the affirmative, Scarlet checked to make sure she was recording the call.

  “Just wanted to show my appreciation, yes I did,” the caller continued.

  Still looking at James, Scarlet asked, “Is this Stewart?”

  James gave an encouraging nod, and the caller slowly replied, “You can call me Stew.”

  Relatively calm, no doubt due to the fact James was feet away and Sylvia just down the hall, Scarlet said, “I did get some flowers. Were they from you, Stew?”

  After a lengthy pause, Stew answered, “All women like flowers, yes they do.”

  Forcing her voice to sound light and casual, Scarlet volunteered, “I think you’re right about that Stew. Are you and your wife still getting along well?”

  In a significantly louder and minutely faster tone, Stew answered, “I already told you things were better. You didn’t appreciate the flowers, no you didn't.”

  Looking from the mic over to James, Scarlet, desperately trying not to stammer, said, “That’s right Stew, you called into the show and thanked me. I did like the flowers; they were very pretty.”

  The pause, this time, was so long, Scarlet wondered whether she’d lost connection. What must have been thirty seconds later, painfully slow words voiced, “When somebody wants to thank you, you should let them thank you, yes you should. I don’t like it when women stop me from doing things I want to do, no I don’t. My mom liked rabbits, but Dad wouldn’t buy her one. I saw a really good rabbit in a field and brought it home for her. She said we couldn’t afford to feed it and made me take it back, yes she did.”

  “I can see how that would be upsetting to you, Stew,” Scarlet replied in soothing tones.

  Without preamble, Stewart asked, “Then why didn’t you put those flowers in a vase?”

  Scarlet mumbled some sort of an excuse. Coming up beside her stool, James pointed towards the music bed button.

  Nodding her head, Scarlet leaned into the mic. “Thank you for calling Mending Men, Stew. I’m going to play…” she struggled to locate the next song on cue, “Absolute beginners by David Bowie.”

  Scarlet looked up at James, now just inches from her side. “Thank you for keeping your cool and remembering the buttons.”

  James grinned, “It’s all thanks to Tom and his Concentration game.”

  Both laughed, more for tension relief than from amusement, until Sylvia gently knocked on the studio door.

  “I heard the call,” Sylvia announced after Scarlet motioned for her to enter.

  James did his best to answer some of Sylvia’s questions, while Scarlet dialed Detective Smyth. Hanging up with the detective, Scarlet sat back and listened to the conversation James and Sylvia were having.

  “Why don’t I know about this Stewart creep?” Sylvia asked James.

  “I know very little about him myself,” James admitted.

  Scratching her head, Sylvia said, “I thought Andree was her only nightmare. Now there’s a second dude.”

  Smiling apologetically, James said, “I don’t know anything about Andree.”

  Holding a thermos up in each hand, Scarlet asked, “Hot chocolate, anyone?”

  Receiving eager nods, Scarlet talked while pouring.

  “On my first day with Mending Men I got a call from Stewart. He was having marital issues, and I tried to give him sports minded advice. Only I messed up the analogy and said bath instead of shower. A couple of weeks later, the police inform me he’s murdered his wife and another woman by drowning them in the bay.”

  Fiddling with the large skull and crossbones ring on her forefinger, Sylvia enquired, “Do the police think he wants to kill you?”

  Scarlet forcefully shook her head. “They believe he just wants to communicate with me and because of that fact, I saw no reason to worry you.”

  Her face draining of color, Sylvia asked, “Does my piece of shit uncle know about this? He was too cheap to find a replacement for me when I was in Hawaii. Tell me he didn’t know.”

  The room fell silent. James looked confused and concerned. Sylvia, just plain furious.

  Skirting the question, Scarlet said, “The police are watching me constantly, I’m sure they assured your uncle I’d be fine.”

  Sylvia scowled, “If my uncle were halfway decent, you’d have had someone here, and Andree couldn’t have scared the life out of you.”

  Giving Sylvia’s hand a gentle squeeze, Scarlet looked at James. “A few days before Christmas I was here alone. It was just one of those situations where I thought I’d have friends and family around, but they were either out of town or needed elsewhere. Andree was a guy who weaseled his way into Sylvia’s affections. He frightened me with a couple of harassing phone calls. The second one was while Sylvia was in Hawaii. He’d made copies of her keys and then knowing she was away, drove her car to the station. The car fooled the surveillance guys but I imagine Andree had no idea I was being watched. Must have got quite the surprise by how many police stormed in here that night.”

  “I’d ended it weeks before and we thought he was in San Diego,” Sylvia interjected.

  “He’s in jail now, so it’s over and done with,” Scarlet responded.

  Leaning back into the padding of the high stool, James ran hands through his blond hair. “I can’t believe how much you’ve gone through.”

  Scarlet offered him a playful grimace. “Despite the fact, my life, right now, does seem like a made for TV movie, I promise you, it’s not usually this way.” Pausing to look around her studio, Scarlet added, “It all started with this new job.”

  Sylvia moved to a lighter topic, informing Scarlet and James of how poorly Candy was handling Scarlet’s old top forty show.

  Experiencing an equal mix of horror and amusement, Scarlet and James sat transfixed as Sylvia recounted a recent interview Candy had conducted with a well-known rock band. She’d apparently giggled continually and failed to ask a single question regarding their music. “She could have redeemed herself when she ended the interview by playing their latest single,” Sylvia went on, “only it wasn’t their song. Uncle Brian tried to apologize, but they told him there were plenty of other DJ’s in this city who were worthy of the title and appreciated their music.”

  About to ask more, Scarlet stopped when Detective Smyth knocked on the studio door.

  “Miss Danico,” he said, shaking Sylvia’s hand, “good to see you again.” Hand still outstretched, he turned to James. “You’re the guy who likes big four legged animals?”

  James forced a smile. “That leaves some serious room for misinterpretation, Detective. I enjoy riding horses on occasion.”

  Undeterred, Smyth said, “Enough enjoyment to warrant ownership of the animals.”

  With a slight scowl, James responded, “The horses belong to my sister.”

  Detective Smyth now owned the fake smile. “And you thought they might make a unique sort of date for you and Miss Oaks.”

  A distinct edge to his voice, James replied, “Something like that, yes.”

  Exchanging glances with Sylvia, Scarlet volunteered, “It’s all here.” Holding up a CD she added, “The most alarming part, was him knowing I hadn’t put the flowers in a vase.”

  Thanking her as he put the recorded material in his breast pocket, Detective Smyth said, “My guess is, he has no idea what you did with the flowers. Probably fishing to see if he gets a reaction from you.”

  Not feeling too comforted by this s
uggestion, Scarlet enquired, “Are you any closer to finding him?”

  “Most certainly, we are,” Smyth said with practiced ease. He patted his breast pocket. “Well done on this and I’m happy to see you have company. I’ll be in touch.”

  All three watched the detective exit the studio. Sylvia was the first to speak. “Uh, that was awkward.”

  Standing, James said, “I don’t think Detective Smyth likes me too much.” He glanced at his watch. “I should get going and let you wrap up for the night. Niles mentioned you have an escort home.”

  “Yes, my Gran and Dad. I’m staying with them for the time being, so they drop and pick me up.”

  “Perfect. Could I do the same for the party?” James asked nervously.

  Feeling relieved he still wanted to, Scarlet answered, “That would be lovely.”

  Revealing the smile, she’d so enjoyed during their game night, James volunteered, “I’ll call you tomorrow and get directions to your Gran’s house.”

  Nodding, smiling, and blushing all at the same time, Scarlet watched him walk out the door and down the corridor.

  “What?” she asked Sylvia, after receiving a varied sequence of facial expressions.

  “Someone’s got it bad,” Sylvia jeered mischievously.

  Biting her thumbnail, Scarlet asked, “Do you like him?”

  Sylvia sat and put her head to one side. “He kinda talks old fashioned like my Grandpa. But apart from that, he’s super sexy.”

  Scarlet laughed. “He is very polite, but I like that in a man.”

  Sylvia narrowed her eyes. “I like mine a little rough around the edges.”

  Giving her friend the last of the hot chocolate, Scarlet said, “You’ll get over that.”

  The severity of what transpired only truly hit Scarlet on the drive home. The combination of first day back and James being there had undoubtedly acted as a buffer.

  Rose voiced her concern, “So, this comment, about you not putting the flowers in a vase, didn’t seem to worry the detective?”