“I know, I know; it sounds stupid but I think I may have found who my mother is. My dad was seeing or dating someone when he worked at The Register. I found a picture of them together in his stuff after he died. Then, the other day, I saw a picture in the paper of someone and I’m telling you, they look like exactly the same person. I need your help finding her.”
Santy suddenly realizes what she’s just said, “…dating someone at The Register….” Could it be the mystery woman, he wonders.
“Why don’t you just call her? Wasn’t there a name in the paper?”
“Yes there was, but when I called, they said they couldn’t give me the name. Just like when I tried to get your number.”
“Well, where did she work, and what was her name?”
“She worked at the District Attorney’s office. She was the wife of the DA. Her name was Christine McAndrews.”
The phone goes silent as Santy realizes what he’s just heard.
“Hello, Mr. Santy, are you there?”
“Clarissa, can you meet me for lunch today?”
“Uh, I guess.” Clarissa thinks, My boss is going to kill me. “Where do you want to meet?”
“Have you ever been to Clemente’s Fish Tacos in Huntington Beach? It’s just south of the pier.”
“Uh, no; but I could find it, I guess.”
“It’s right next to the Golden Bear, across from the pier. I’ll see you there around noon. I’ll be the one with the Hawaiian shirt and straw hat on. I may be able to help you after all. I think you can help me too.”
Chapter 22
Clarissa drives down Pacific Coast Highway into Huntington Beach. She remembers the beach from day trips with her grandparents. They would often come down in Grandpa’s RV early in the morning and spend all day at the beach. She loved her time there and the thought makes her miss her grandfather.
She sees the Golden Bear nightclub as she nears the pier and pulls off at the next street to park. The day is warm and breezy. A perfect beach day, she thinks. She walks towards the Golden Bear and looks for Santy. She sees a man with a Hawaiian shirt and straw hat smoking a cigar, standing next to the painted musical notes of the Golden Bear. “Doesn’t look like a detective,” she thinks.
Santy turns and sees her coming.
“Are you Clarissa?”
“Yes. Are you Detective Santy?”
“Yes, just call me Dick. I’m retired.”
“I’m sorry. Dick it is.”
“I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I’ve met you before at your grandparent’s house.”
“Really? What were you doing there?”
“It was the night I told your grandparents about the death of your father.”
They look at each other for a minute. Santy looks at her and thinks of the orphaned girl in the Rogers’ case so long ago.
“Are you hungry?” Santy asks.
“Sure, I could eat something,” Clarissa says.
“Let’s walk across the street here and we’ll get some of the best fish tacos you’ve ever had.”
“I’ve never had a fish taco.”
“Oh, then you’re in for a treat. Clemente’s makes the best around.”
They walk across the street, crowded with throngs of tourists coming in and out of souvenir and surf shops. Inside Clemente’s, the manager welcomes Santy from across the room and motions for him sit at an ocean side table.
“Mr. Santy, welcome. Please have a seat,” the manager says. They shake hands and the manager looks at Clarissa.
“Who is this, Mr. Santy? Maybe your daughter? On vacation here in beautiful Huntington Beach?”
“This is Clarissa Rogers, Manuel. She’s an old acquaintance,” Santy says, looking at Clarissa.
“What can we get you? The usual for you, Mr.Santy? And for the lady?”
“Yes, I’ll have the usual and bring a few shrimp tacos for Clarissa. What would you like to drink?”
“I’ll have a Coke, please. Thank you,” Clarissa says.
“Coming right up!” Manuel says, walking away.
“So, you wanted to talk about your father’s case and need some help finding your mother.”
“Yes, I’ve been reading my father’s case transcript and while I was going through them, I started to think more of my mother. I was hoping you might be able to help me locate her. As I said on the phone, so far I’ve hit some brick walls. I brought some pictures along to show you what I mean.”
Clarissa pulls out an old, yellowing snapshot of a young man and a girl, standing lovingly close together.
“This is a picture of my father and his girlfriend, I think, back in the seventies. See, on the back someone wrote ‘C & S 1976’. I think it’s Chris and Steve. Here’s a picture of both of them protesting at San Onofre.”
Clarissa shows him the page from the OC Register with Christine McAndrews at a fund raiser. “This is the picture in the paper that I told you about.”
“Don’t they all look like the same woman?”
Santy holds the snapshot next to the picture in the paper.
“Damn if it doesn’t look like her,” he says. “Do you realize what this means, Clarissa? If what I’m looking at is true, this is the ‘mystery woman’ we were searching for back in 1976. This might be the woman who vanished from her job at the OC Register. We believe this woman had a fake Social Security Number and might have had a hand in, or have information about, your father’s murder,” Santy says.
Clarissa’s eyes get big as the waiter brings their lunch. Two baskets of fish tacos, a Coke and large draft beer. She tries to comprehend what Santy has just said. She is excited about finding out who her mother is, yet she’s apprehensive about her connection with her father and implications in his murder.
Santy takes a long pull on his beer.
“Why would she want to kill my father? They look so in love in that picture,” Clarissa says.
“I don’t know. People do strange things sometimes. Trust me, after all these years, I don’t discount anything anymore. At minimum, she could have some information about the murder of your father.”
Clarissa feels the focus of their discussion is turning towards the woman as a criminal or witness and not her mother.
“I know she’s someone you’d like to talk to, but so would I,” Clarissa says. “I want to know if she’s my mother. If she had something to do with my father’s murder, well, I suppose I’ll have to deal with that, then. But I’d really like to find out if she’s my mother.”
Santy says, “Let me see what I can do. I may know someone who knows where she can be found. If she’s still alive, you’ll have to promise me that you won’t discuss this with anyone else. Promise?”
“I promise,” Clarissa says sheepishly.
“I don’t mean to get so nasty with you. I’m sorry if it comes out that way, Clarissa. It’s just that this information is pretty explosive. We’re talking about implicating the wife of a former DA. There are people out there who would very much not like to hear about this.”
“I just want to know who my mother is. Is that so bad?”
“No, it’s not,” Santy says, taking another sip from his beer. "I’ve worked with some of these people, Clarissa, and they can be nasty if things don’t go their way. I don’t want anything to happen to you because of this information. I’ve got some ideas but you’ll need to trust me on this and be patient. Let me make some calls and I promise I’ll let you know what I come up with.”
“’Kay. I will. I feel like I’m so close and this could mean everything to me.”
“I know. It feels the same to me. I’m coming at it from another direction but it would mean everything to me, too.”
They finish their tacos and Santy finishes the last of his beer. He plops a ten down on the table and they head towards the door.
“See you tomorrow, Mr. Santy!” Manual calls out from behind the bar.
“I’ll be here. Thanks again, Manuel. You’ve outdone yourself again.”
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“Goodbye, young lady,” Manuel says. “I hope we see you again soon also!”
Clarissa smiles and waves to Manuel as they leave. The salty ocean breeze wafts over them as they walk back towards where Clarissa has parked. The sound of surf music and laughter fills the streets near the pier.
“I have your number. I will call you when I get something. Give me a few days and hopefully I’ll have something for us both.”
“Would you like the pictures and the paper?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind. I’ll take care of them.”
“Okay. But I want them back.”
“Of course.”
She gets into her car and drives away, turning on Pacific Coast Highway, southbound back to Tustin. Santy lights a new cigar and walks back out on the pier, alone. He’s not felt this happy in a long time.
Chapter 23
The next morning, Santy is up early. The pink sky shines through his kitchen window. Gumbo growls at something outside.
“What is it Gumbo?”
Gumbo looks up at Santy wondering if he’s done anything wrong.
“Come on boy, don’t feel bad. It’s OK. You’re just doing your job.”
Santy opens the door to find two boys in wetsuits passing through the park towards the ocean. “Hope there’s some waves out there boys,” Santy calls out.
“We hope so too!” they answer in unison.
Everyone at the RV resort knows everyone else. They all like having Santy there and feel somehow that, because he was a detective, they’ll be safer should someone try something bad.
Santy picks up the phone and calls his friend, Detective Brown.
“Brownie!”
“Dick?”
“Good morning! Looks like you’re still the early one into the office.”
“Got a full day ahead and a lot of people to talk to in the field. Thought I’d get some paperwork done before everyone else is in.”
“Brownie, I need your help.”
“Anything. What can I do?”
“I need the Rogers’ murder case files--all of them.”
“What? I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can. No one will miss them. I just need to look at them for a day or so and then, you’ll have them back.”
“Dick, I could get in trouble for this.”
“No you won’t. Because no one will find out. You’re always there early. All you have to do is put the files in your bag and I’ll meet you somewhere later.”
“Aw Dick, I don’t know.”
“Come on, Brownie. I’ve got some new information that could change everything about this case. I need to look at everything all over again. Please do me this one favor.”
Detective Brown knows he owes Santy a favor. He owes him lots of favors. Santy was always there for him when he was coming up in the ranks and was like a mentor to him. He knows he’s where he’s at today because of him.”
“OK, but don’t lose them! No fish taco sauce on them or I’ll be sauce!”
“Brownie, you’re the best. Where can I meet you?”
“I’ll be in Newport about 9:00. I’ve got to speak to their investigators. Meet me outside of the Crab Cooker about 10:00, you know the red building just back from the pier there.”
“Know just where it is. I’ll be there. Thanks, Brownie. I owe you one for this.”
“Why do I let you talk me into these things? Do you have room in your RV if I get canned?”
Santy laughs. “Brownie, I have a feeling you’re going to look like a star when we’re done with this. All you have to worry about is what color shirt goes best with a lieutenant’s badge.”
“I’ll see you there at ten. Don’t be late!”
“I’ll be there Brownie. Thanks again.”
Santy hangs up the phone and has a noticeable spring in his step. Everything is brighter and his juices are going. This is the part he misses the most about his job: the challenge and excitement of solving a case.
“Come on, Gumbo. You’ve earned yourself a walk. You’ve been a good boy. Let’s go down to the beach and see how the guys are doing with those waves.”
Santy leashes up Gumbo and they head down the well-worn trail to the beach, Gumbo pulling hard on the leash.
Chapter 24
Santy parks his car over by the Newport pier, feeling lucky to have found a spot. He’s excited about getting back in the fray again. He’s surprised how much he misses it. It’s his lucky day: he’s found a prized parking spot by the pier and he’s going to dig back into one of his toughest cases. He walks by the Doryman’s Inn and can see people enjoying their breakfast. Across the street, the beach-side bars are already filling up, their music floats out across the parking lot.
Santy can see Detective Brown in his car circling around the Crab Cooker. Santy whistles and motions to him from across the street. Brown circles back and parks in the most secluded part of the parking lot.
“Morning, Brownie,” Santy says, getting into the passenger side.
“Brown looks around and shakes his head.”
“Don’t worry, Brownie: nobody’s tailing you. This isn’t like the movies.”
“I’m putting my job on the line here, Dick. This better not blow up on me!”
“You worry too much, Brownie. All I need is a couple of days and you’ll have everything back. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.”
Brown hands Santy several large envelopes bulging with paper. Santy looks inside and smiles like he’s seeing an old long, lost friend.
“I remember this stuff! It’s just like it was yesterday.”
“Two days, Dick. That’s it.”
“Thanks again, Brownie. I do owe you for this.”
“So, tell me, what’s got you all excited about again on this case, for heaven’s sake?”
“Remember that girl you called me about the other day? The daughter of Steve Rogers?”
“Yeah, the one looking for her mother?”
“I spoke to her yesterday and discovered that she inadvertently ran across some information on the case that all of us missed. This could blow wide open if what I think happened is true.”
“What do you think happened? What did she find?”
“I can’t say anything yet. I need to go back over the case again and make sure there’s nothing else I’m missing.”
“Dick, the case is closed. It’s over. Why are you digging up old stuff again? It’s been sixteen years for heaven’s sake. Ivan did it. The DA proved it and Ivan was convicted. Case closed.”
“Brownie, I never felt good about this one. This one always stuck in my craw. Something inside me says I’m missing something. I want to dig back into this and see if I can try and put the pieces back together again.”
“Whatever. Just keep me out of it. I can’t afford to get stuck in this fishing expedition.”
“Brownie, if I figure this one out, you’ll be the star--you’ll be the hero.”
“Sure, Dick. Why do I always fall for your schemes?”
“Because you know I’m right on this one! I’ll give you a call when I’m done and you can stop by and pick everything up.”
“OK, just don’t get me in trouble!”
Santy shakes his hand and gets out of the car as Brown drives away. He walks back to his car, gets in and starts looking at some of the notes. A car honks behind him and a man calls out, “You staying or leaving?” Santy gets out, impulsively reaching for where his badge used to be and says, “No, I’m going to be here for a while.” The driver shakes his head in a huff and drives off. Santy gets back into the car and starts reading.
Back at his RV, Santy puts dinner down for Gumbo and spreads all the notes out on his kitchen table. He makes lists of all the witnesses and those who were interviewed. He reviews all the case notes and courtroom testimony again to make sure he’s got everything straight. By the night’s end, he’s got a short list of people he wants to follow-up on. He wants to verify their testimony again, if they’re st
ill alive. There’s something here that I’ve missed. Someone whose story we haven’t yet heard.
Chapter 25
In the morning, he pours himself a cup of coffee and calls Margorie.
“Good morning, Homicide?”
“Morning, Margorie. It’s Santy.”
“Santy!? What’s going on, stranger?”
“Well, it’s a beautiful day in paradise here and Gumbo and I could use a little company. How’s about coming down and sharing a few cold beers with us?”
“Wow! That sounds good. I’d love nothing more but I’ve got to prepare for a lunch meeting the lieutentant is having today. He’s got a government mucky-muck coming in for a dog-and-pony show.”
“Ask him if he’d like to have it down here. There’s lots of room on the sand.”
“Come on Santy. So what’s up? I know you didn’t call to ask me out for a beer.”
“I need your help, Margorie. I need you to run some people for me. I’m digging back into one of my old cases and I want to see if some of the witnesses are still around and where they live.”
“Dick! I could get in trouble for that!”
“Margorie, I really need a favor on this. I know you could bang these out at lunchtime, when the lieutenant is off in his closed door meeting. Come on, I know you can do this for me. Please?”
“Oh Dick, why do you do this to me? How can I say no?”
“See, it’s that easy. I knew you could help.”
“Dare I ask why you want these people checked out?”
“Can’t say yet, but you’ll be the first to know when I do. We never had this conversation. If you could print them and put them in the pony to the crime lab, attention of Roger James. I’ve told him to expect this and he said he’d drop it off at my place tonight.”
“OK. If I get into trouble I’m coming after you!”
“I hope so! Here are the names.”
Santy reads off the names to Margorie and thanks her before hanging up. The gears are turning now. He’s in the groove again and everything is coming back to him. He can almost hear the voices of the people he interviewed and even remembers their body language. The more he goes over everything, the same old things start nagging him. What did the mystery woman have to do with this and why did she disappear? He’s hoping to find out soon.
The Tustin Chronicles: A Detective Santy Mystery Page 14
