Trifecta

by Pam Richter

  "I understand that you are under some pressure, because the publisher is expecting a first draft at the end of the month," Julia said.

  Quijada nodded. "Another reason why I wanted to find someone who could work quickly. Brian said he was almost ready to send the first few chapters to the publisher for editing, but now I can't find them. If we agree that you will take over, you could stay here, if that would be acceptable. There are guest bedrooms, or the cottage that Brian was using."

  "I would be totally at your disposal," Julia answered, "but I would rather stay in a hotel. I have reserved a room at the Beverly Hills Hotel. It's just a short drive from here, and I have my own car, so I can accommodate any schedule you like."

  She could tell he was still undecided and was surprised by the thought that it was because she was a woman. Why, the man is a chauvinist, she decided, startled that he could have lived so long in the United States and still have antiquated ideas about the ability of the female sex. Of course, Aaron had been brought up in a very male dominated culture, being of Mexican descent.

  Julia had dressed in a business-like fashion, as she always did when going out for a job. She had on a grey tailored suit and had tucked her hair into a severe bun at the back of her neck. But that was not enough to impress him with her professionalism. She had to prove she could do the work.

  Julia opened her briefcase and took out a portfolio. She put it on the coffee table between them, moving the silver tray out of the way. She presented several articles that she had written for newspapers and magazines, and then showed him a collection of photographs that had been published. She had been working as a photographer, but often wrote the text as well. The pictures exhibited exotic animals in Africa, mosques and minarets in Istanbul, and ruined castles in Northern Europe. Her specialty, though, was portraits of everyday working people and she had pictures, some very poignant, from all over the world.

  "Brian mentioned he had an older sister who was a photographer. I didn't know you could really write." He actually seemed impressed, and she didn't know whether to be insulted or amused.

  Julia held back a smile when Quijada got all animated, looking over her photographs, and pulled out his own heavy albums from a shelf across the room, going over them in minute detail with her. He had a large family, most of whom lived in Mexico. Then there were many pictures of himself on movie sets in romantic locations around the world, producing motion pictures.

  He was a very charismatic person and she was uncomfortably aware that he found her attractive. She wondered why there were no pictures of an immediate family, with a wife and children, but she was sure she would find out if she was hired.

  "I'd like to change the slant on the book my brother was writing," Julia said. "Make it more pictorial. In all of the photographs from your albums, you stand out dramatically. Your coloring, and a certain masculine charm. We could make this a book that would really be different, one that would be easier for people to pick up and look at, rather than a dry dissertation of your rise in the movie industry. Your ideals could be shown much more graphically."

  Aaron Quijada immediately saw the wisdom in the proposal, as Julia though he would. He wanted publicity and many more people would buy the book in the format she suggested.

  It would also give Julia much more freedom, prying into his life, if she could roam around and take pictures.

  "You know I'm running for governor in the next election?" Aaron asked.

  "My brother hinted at it," Julia said. That was not true, but she wanted him to think she knew more than she did.

  They discussed the book she would do at some length, with the problems of using more photographs and the likelihood that the publishing company would go for the changed format.

  While they talked, the big dog seemed to be asleep at Quijada's feet, until Julia made any movements. Then he would look up with little yellow, bloodshot eyes. She felt she did not trust either the man or the dog, but decided she better make friends with the dog if she was going to be roaming around the grounds of the estate.

  When Julia got up to leave she stopped and dropped to her knees, waiting for the monster to come to her. He finally slunk over. She petted him, while he slobbered on her hands. The big dog seemed composed entirely of muscle and gristle. He finally lay down beside her and rolled over for a tummy rub, making happy little grunts, which sounded more like growls, when she whispered baby talk and patted the enormous hairy chest.

  "I told you he was just a puppy, a pushover for a beautiful woman," Quijada said.

  When she got up the dog gazed at her with slavish devotion and also with sadness that had she stopped her ministrations, which was supposed to inspire guilt. The big dog was so funny that she laughed and started stroking him again.

  "You have the job," Aaron said, as he watched her with his puppy, admiringly. Julia was very beautiful when she relaxed and laughed. "If you would be good enough to come here tomorrow morning, I will take you to the cottage where Brian was working and you can get started."

  Julia smiled with satisfaction when she left. Her first goal had been accomplished. Now she just had to get Robin Chavier to reveal what he knew about her brother's death.

  CHAPTER 9

  Robin decided to borrow Jay's apartment for the meeting with Julia. He had given her directions to the apartment in Westwood and was expecting her at any minute. He had enjoyed presenting himself as a macho working mechanic and had the feeling he would be able to get to know Julia better in that guise. Of course, he would tell her the truth, he promised himself, but maybe not right away. He felt like a kid anticipating Halloween.

  Now Jay was showing Robin around his apartment. The living room was austere and modern, with lots of brass, plants and leather furniture. Robin gazed around, thinking the apartment might be just a bit ostentatious for a mechanic. But he could never take her to his own place; a home high in the beautiful Beverly Hills, with a spectacular view of the city. She would never believe the charade that he was a mechanic for one second. Robin had even dressed for the working-man role, in nice but worn jeans and a long sleeved black tee shirt.

  Following Jay around the apartment, Robin looked into the kitchen. He was a little appalled. It could have belonged to a gourmet chief, with all kinds of hanging pots and pans over a large range with eight burners, next to an oversized microwave. Julia might get the mistaken idea he could cook. Whip her up a mean little dinner. It almost was dinner time and his stomach was growling. Maybe he could take Julia out for something to eat later.

  The two men crossed the living room and Jay showed Robin the bathroom, and then a study. There were pictures of sports idols and sailing boats on the walls. Robin thought it could pass as a mechanic's pad, except for the law books and journals. They both worked quickly, turning the books around so the spines wouldn't show. They hid law journals under sporting magazines.

  Then Jay ushered Robin, with a triumphant flourish, into the master bedroom. It was a typical but exaggerated bachelor's lair, with mirrors covering the sliding doors of the closets, directly opposite the bed. Robin was horrified to see that there were even mirrors on the ceiling, over an absolutely enormous, round bed with black satin sheets. Speakers stood on either side of the bed for easy access to mood music.

  "This is really wonderful," Robin said to his friend sarcastically. "One look in here and she'll run, screaming out the door."

  Robin was reminded of an old movie with Doris Day and Rock Hudson. The bedroom in Hudson's apartment had been decorated as a joke with doors that locked when the woman was safely trapped inside, music which went on automatically as soon as the doors locked, and a hidden bed that swung out, complete with garish harem curtains. This bedroom was almost as suggestive.

  "Hey pal, I might be doing you a favor," Jay said. "You don't know. She may go for it."

  Never in a million years, Robin thought, shaking his head. He closed the door firmly. He would never even let Julia near that seduction palace.

  "I b
etter get going," Jay said. "She'll be here any minute. You look around, so you can act like you live here."

  "Hey, Jay, this is really great of you, you know?" Robin said as he waved his friend out the door.

  "I'll come home early," Jay warned, turning around again to face his friend, "if you don't promise to tell all the grisly details."

  "Sure, sure," Robin said. "Right."

  "Just messing the covers on the bed won't be good enough. You promise now," Jay said, standing there obstinately, obviously not planning to leave until he had a firm oath from his friend. He was enjoying himself immensely, sensing Robin's uneasiness.

  "I told you before, it's just a meeting."

  "Uh huh," Jay said. He was ready to launch into another plea to get the information out of Robin, when he saw a sudden look on surprise on his friend's face. Jay turned around quickly and saw a woman emerging from the elevator. She was only the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Strawberry blond hair with very dark eyes and black eyebrows.

  "Hi, Julia," Robin said. He was leaning against the door jam with his arms folded, like he owned the place. "I was just saying good-by to my friend, Jay. Jay...Julia," he said, in introduction as Julia walked toward them, nodding at each in turn.

  Julia put out one delicate hand, shaking Jay's hand. Robin smiled at his friend, who looked stunned silly, like he had gone into a hypnotic trance.

  "Jay and I have known each other for years. From work," Robin explained. "He was just leaving."

  "Yeah," Jay said. He still looked dazed. "I work with the Old Hood all the time."

  "Old Hood?" Julia repeated. Then she smiled. "A nickname? From Robin Hood?"

  "Naw, the Old Hood here," Jay said slapping his friend, Robin, on the shoulder, "looked like a real hood in high school. You know, slicked his hair back with grease, rolled a pack of cigarettes in his shirt sleeve, and was always working on old cars. So we called him Hood. Not only did he look like a Hood, but he was always under the hood of some old hunk of metal."

  Julia couldn't know Jay was joking and looked kind of stunned, herself, at the picture Jay had presented.

  "Cleaned up his act real well, though," Jay went on. "You'd never guess he was the Drag Strip King, back when we were adolescent delinquents."

  "That's quite enough, Jay," Robin said warningly. Jay could really pile the shit when he got started.

  "Women just loved drag racing in his dangerous, hopped up, speed cars with him," Jay drawled, noting Robin's discomfort with immense satisfaction.

  "Jay's exaggerating a bit," Robin said tightly.

  "Yeah, miss the good old days," Jay said sadly, shaking his head and walking away. Waving good-by and smiling evilly at Robin.

  Thanks loads old pal, Robin thought to himself cynically, as he followed Julia into the apartment. He could already tell that Julia had believed Jay's silly bantering. She was staying as far away from him as possible as they went into the living room. There was a definite chill in the air.

  "Please sit down," Robin said, indicating a couch. "Jay really was kidding, you know."

  "I'm sure," Julia said distantly. She sat down. He sat across from her on a chair.

  "Oh, let me get you something. Coffee? A soft drink?"

  "Whatever you are having," Julia said formally.

  "Two coffee's coming up," Robin said cheerfully, but he didn't feel cheerful. This was a disastrous idea, meeting at Jay's place.

  Julia watched Robin jump up from the couch like he was full of nervous energy and go into the kitchen. She was uncomfortable being alone with him in his apartment. He seemed much larger than she had thought, towering over her when they had walked into the apartment. His physical presence seemed to make the normal sized place quite small. Robin had an energy or presence that was almost breathtaking. And his outfit was extremely masculine. She could see the large muscles in his arms and chest in the black tee shirt. She supposed though, that most mechanics were in excellent shape, with flat stomachs. Her heart was beating much too fast, so she thought she must be a little fearful. But it was a silly response to a perfectly nice working man.

  Suddenly she heard a loud bonging sound from the kitchen, and then muffled shouting, which sounded like a string of some profanity. It was rapidly stifled.

  She got up quickly and walked to the doorway of the kitchen. Robin had evidently walked right into one of the hanging pans. He was holding his head like he was in pain. She looked at the pan. It was large and heavy and she wondered why he had hung the thing so low in his own kitchen. She almost ran toward him to see if he was all right, but he was moving swiftly.

  Robin was oblivious that she was observing him. She watched as he started opening cabinets frantically, with his left arm. His right still covering his forehead. At first she thought he was so badly hurt that he was disoriented and couldn't find anything in his own kitchen. After a while she realized he really didn't know where anything was. He had found two cups and was looking through the cupboards for instant coffee, evidently. Robin finally found it, and then looked around frantically for something to boil water with. When he turned around he saw her.

  "Can I help you?" Julia asked. "I heard you hit your head."

  Robin gave her a dazzling smile and shook his head. "No, thank you. I'll be just another minute."

  Julia went back into the living room and sat down. Poor guy probably lived in such a hovel that he had borrowed this apartment from a friend so he wouldn't be embarrassed. It was kind of sweet, but she still felt she might be in some danger from the large man. She thought back to the time when he had his special suit on, for appearing in court and wondered, first, if he was a robber or something. Jay, his friend, had mentioned that they both had been juvenile delinquents. She might be alone in an apartment with a master thief, or even something much worse. Maybe he was out on bail for some heinous crime.

  On the other hand, she remembered that she had walked straight up to him after her brother's death and he had held her gently, just like she had needed at that moment in time. She couldn't believe he would do anything truly awful.

  Robin was coming into the living room, holding two mugs of coffee. "I ran out of cream and sugar," he said apologetically.

  Julia smiled at him, knowing he couldn't find it, "I always drink black."

  The room seemed too small again, and much warmer. She wondered if he had so much masculine energy that it came off his body in waves of heat, because it felt like that. And the coffee was making her even warmer.

  "As I said on the phone," Robin started, after he sat down and stared at her for an uncomfortably long period of time with extremely piercing blue eyes, "I think that your coming here is a bad idea. There may have been foul play involved in your brother's death. And from what I understood at the hospital, I don't think it was a mistake by the people who work there, or by the machines that were monitoring your brother's condition. The fact that you are here might put you in some danger."

  Julia could see that he was going to go on with the tirade, so she put up her hand. But as she did so she was surprised again. He didn't talk like a mechanic. His use of the English language and his diction was perfect. He didn't belong in this apartment either.

  "It's too late for that," Julia said. "I talked Mr. Quijada into letting me complete my brother's work. Now I'm going to find out what caused Brian's death."

  Robin put his coffee on the table between them, leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, hands under his chin. He was looking at her face almost fiercely. She didn't know he was admiring the beautiful skin, and that he couldn't decide whether he liked her hair pulled back severely, as it was now, showing off all the contours of her face, or if he preferred the soft look she had when it fell to her shoulders.

  "I guess it's time to trade information," Robin said, finally. "I'll tell you what you want to know, on the condition that you tell me your brother's last words. I will insist that you let me help you. I also insist that as soon as you get any information, you turn i
t over to the police and that you go directly back to Boston. Otherwise, I won't reveal what I know."

  "I made an agreement already, with Mr. Quijada, that I would complete Brian's work. It will take a few weeks. And it's important to me. It is Brian's last work. I want his name on it. As author."

  Julia could feel herself get a little teary. It was Brian's work. She would change it somewhat, she knew, but it would be the high quality that he himself would have been proud of.

  "If there's a secret that Brian uncovered during the time he was working at Mr. Quijada's home, and it was that which accounted for his untimely death, then you have to leave as soon as you know."

  "Not till the book's finished."

  "Seems we've reached an impasse," Robin said, leaning back in the chair as though the conversation was finished.

  A mechanic would not use the word impasse, Julia thought. "Just who are you?"

  "A friend who really has your best interests at heart."

  She could tell he meant it. "If that's true, Robin, you will tell me what you know, because I promise, I'll find out by myself, and use whatever means I have to."

  "It won't bring your brother back," Robin said curtly. He was immediately sorry. He had forgotten that the funeral was yesterday. She looked stunned, like she might cry. Then her head was down and she was gazing into her coffee cup. He could see her long lashes blinking. "Forgive me. That was unkind. I just want you to be safe."

  "Thank you for the sentiment," Julia said a little harshly. "And for the coffee."

  She had put her cup down and was slinging her purse over her shoulder. It was fine for her to be angry with him, Robin thought as he watched her rise. It was the only thing that was keeping her from crying. He was impressed by her control. She had tears in her eyes, but was blinking rapidly as she got up, ready to leave.

  Robin stood up too, a few feet away, towering over her. "Let's change the agreement, then. I'll tell you everything I know. And you will finish the work, if you see fit. Because I think this whole matter does have something to do with Quijada. I also believe you might choose not to finish the work, because of the things you find out. You may decide to write something completely different."