by Pam Richter
CHAPTER 18
"It's beautiful." Julia got off the bike and stared at the cabin for a moment. "Impressive."
"There's a boat dock in front," Robin replied. "We can take the boat out tomorrow, if it isn't too cold."
The small rustic cabin Julia had envisioned turned out to be a gorgeous two story A-frame overlooking the lake. The exterior was composed of glass, wood, and rough hewn rocks which seemed to meld into the natural setting. The entrance was actually at the back of the structure, its front facing the lake.
"It's absolutely gorgeous," Julia said, as she stepped in and gazed around. Floor to ceiling windows in the front room displayed the beautiful calm lake in a winter landscape. The place was decorated in monochromatic blues, greens and grays that picked up the colors from the lake outside, which was now lit as if burnished with the beaten gold of the setting sun. "What does your friend do, that he can afford something like this?"
"He's a lawyer," Robin said. "Why don't you look around upstairs. Put your things in the bedroom with the fireplace. It has the best view. I have to make some calls and see what's happening in Los Angeles."
By the time Julia came back, Robin had unpacked the motorcycle and set up a laptop computer. He was sitting in front of the fire he had lit in the fireplace, gazing at the ledger books she had taken from Quijada's safe.
"You can read Spanish?"
Robin looked up and nodded. He had put on reading glasses and appeared studious; sort of like Superman in his Clark Kent guise.
"What's in them?" Julia asked.
"I'm not sure."
Julia walked over and sat down beside him. "Why don't you translate out loud? I'll type it in the computer."
"Okay." He was not looking at her, but still and serious, gazing out the window.
"What's wrong, Robin?"
He sighed. "We now have the only copies. I need to get to a fax machine, but I don't think anything's open after five in this town."
"What happened to the other copy that Sandy made?"
"It was taken at gunpoint from two of my friends at the D.A.'s office, just about an hour ago."
"Oh, no!" Julia exclaimed.
Robin nodded. "They were going up to their offices when they were ambushed in the underground parking garage. My best friend, Tony, didn't want to give up the material. He's in the hospital."
"I'm so sorry, Robin." Julia put her head in her hands. Quijada would do anything to get his property back, and he might suspect there was another copy. The two of them must appear guilty because they ran. She felt angry at herself for the stupid plan to steal from Quijada's safe. All she had done was cause havoc. Robin would be hurt or killed if he went back to Los Angeles. His best friend, Tony, was injured. The whole thing was one gigantic disaster.
"Tony will be all right," Robin said, "He might have a minor concussion. Someone wearing a stocking mask hit him on the head with the barrel of a gun."
Julia slid to the floor with her back to the couch and pulled the computer in front of her. When he didn't say anything, she told him, rather grimly, to go ahead and dictate.
"6-14-09 comma T period J period. Pick up capitol C. by A.G. New sentence right below it, indented. Dollar sign, one five zero comma, three zeros, period. Ten o'clock p.m. Capitol J period G period."
"Wait!"
Robin had started to go on when Julia interrupted, first carefully reading what she had typed again, and then looking up at him. "That sounds like a pick up! Tia Juana. Cocaine. For a hundred and fifty thousand, by someone with the initials, A. G."
"Smart girl. You got it." He smiled in triumph.
"Really?" She looked at the ledgers. If this was indeed the contents, they had the information that would damn Quijada.
"This stuff is absolute dynamite," Robin said. "Your brother was right in telling you to get it. And I swear, I will never allow that dirty drug dealer near the governor's mansion with this information."
Julia let out a great whoop of relief. Unable to contain herself, she stood up and jumped up and down in glee. Robin stood up too and hugged her quickly and hard and she felt her breath whoosh out. Then he picked her up by the waist, lifting her high above him, and whirled her around.
"Congratulations, Julia," Robin said as he put her down gently, patting her on the back. "I really didn't know how explosive this was until a few moments ago."
Robin still had his hands on her waist and was looking right into her eyes, smiling down at her. They were standing very close together. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, and Julia found she couldn't look away. She stepped forward, drawn to Robin, and hugged him. He was hugging her back, tight, when she came to her senses and let go, backing up a little unsteadily. It was dizziness from the whirling Robin had given her, she was sure.
The relief Julia felt was an intense kind of righteous triumph. There had been moments when she had been afraid that what she took would turn out to be a schedule of the landscaping around Quijada's home, or maybe an inventory of payments to his household workers. There was also the grim realization that they had found the cause for her brother's death.
"You waited until I was about ready to slash my wrists, I was feeling so guilty," Julia accused, covering for the sudden longing she had felt in the heady moments just past to kiss Robin, because of his eyes and because she felt so happy.
"Just upped the anticipation level a bit."
"Cruel and unusual punishment," Julia muttered grouchily, to hide the fact that she felt so drawn to him. She vowed to keep her guard up.
"Lets keep going," Robin said, sitting down again. "I think the initials refer to Artie Garcia, the man I recognized in the photographs you took at Quijada's. He's the guy I contacted for the drug meet last night."
There was a definite pattern to the drug drops and pick-ups. Since it was mostly in code, they had some spirited arguments about exactly where the drugs were passed. Quijada had a fleet of planes which he used for crossing the border from Mexico into the United States, but the ledgers showed much more mundane modes of transport; via trucks right through the checkpoints from Mexico. There was a list of distribution points and initials for the main gang leaders selling the product. The network went from Mexico, across the borders to California, New Mexico, Texas and Nevada, and then spread to point cities in the East, including Boston, Chicago, Miami and New York.
Finally, after they had worked a couple of hours, Robin stood up and stretched to get the kinks out. He threw his glasses on the table and announced. "Dinner time." He went over to the panoramic windows. It was dark outside and had started snowing.
Julia walked over and stood beside him, cupping her hands over the glass. Big flakes were dancing like feathers down into the darkness of the lake and disappearing on the surface. It looked like a winter fairyland outside the windows, with the trees slowly receiving a mantle of white. The snow glistened in the glow of a cloudy half moon.
"The best thing about the ledgers is that they're in Quijada's own handwriting," Julia said as she followed Robin into the kitchen.
"They were taken illegally. Wouldn't be allowed as evidence in a court of law. But this information can initiate a massive clean-up of much of the illegal narcotics coming into the country from Mexico. And Quijada will be intimidated as hell. He can't run for governor if he knows this stuff might be lurking around, ready to be unearthed. In your situation, we might say that you were given permission to take pictures and innocently found it."
Robin was looking into an almost empty refrigerator. "I'm starved and everything's frozen or dead."
"How can I write the book if I can't tell the truth about how I got the information?" Julia murmured, as she wandered around the kitchen, opening cabinets, looking for something to munch on.
Robin turned around, "I have no doubt you'll think of something."
"I'll have to tell the truth."
"You can't. Just say that someone saw the pictures you took at Quijada's and put it all together."
"You have
to be in the book, Robin."
"Absolutely not." He sounded unyielding on that point and Julia decided not to pursue it. She thought she could get him to relent once Quijada was in jail.
Julia went over and stood in front of the open refrigerator door. There were some soft drinks, beer and a few wizened fruit.
"I'll go to the store," Robin said. "Or take you out for dinner."
Julia opened the freezer and gazed inside. "How about shrimp scampi? And if you like vegetables, we can have a good meal with everything in here. I don't feel like going out in the snow."
"The bike's not a good idea," Robin admitted. "The conditions are too dangerous, now."
"You'll have to eat vegetables," Julia warned.
"I'm easy. I can eat anything. I just can't cook."
"Then get out of the way," Julia said, happily, pulling the shrimp out of the freezer. "I'm going to make us a feast."
"You don't mind?" He looked almost painfully anxious and Julia smiled at him. There was rice in a cabinet that she could use with the shrimp, butter and scallions for the sauce.
"I'll make a special dinner, Robin. You certainly deserve it."
"We could try the bike, see how it goes." Robin was thinking of the women he usually took out. They expected the finest, most expensive restaurants in Los Angeles. None had never offered to cook him dinner unless it was an uncomfortable situation in which they were obviously trying to lure him into considering domesticity. He had learned to beg off, after having gone through some excruciatingly uncomfortable experiences, with horrible food, when the woman in question did not clearly cater the dinner and then try to pass it off as her own cooking.
"I may be a feminist, but I love to cook. You can do the dishes."
Robin sat at the kitchen counter drinking a beer, watching for a while. "Do you have to use every pot and pan in the whole kitchen?"
"I can't mix the sauce for Scampi with the dressing for the vegetables." She was squeezing a lemon in yet another pan.
"You're taking feminism too far. I'll be washing dishes until tomorrow morning."
Julia glanced at him. "That's the whole reason I'm doing this, you know. It has nothing to do with being starved after learning to ride a Harley. Then having to tell you exactly where the drugs were spread out all over the east coast."
"So, my geography isn't as good as yours. You were born there." He loved the intent expression on her face as she rushed about, stirring a pot and checking into the microwave. "How do you know when the shrimp are done?"
Julia started taking out serving bowls. "They turn a nice pink color. It's all in the color. You have to watch them very carefully or they'll turn rubbery. Timing is especially critical when they've been frozen."
She went on with a monologue on how to cook shrimp as Robin took plates out of the cabinets and set the table in the living room. He wanted to eat by the fire and watch the snow falling outside. The whole situation was romantic as hell and he turned on the compac disc player very softly, picking out Barbara Streisend and some soft rock.
"It's Tony, isn't it?" Julia said as she rushed in with a platter piled with shrimp. She put it on the table and was actually running back into the kitchen, so he couldn't answer right away.
When she came back with rice and vegetables, Robin asked her what she had meant.
"This cabin. The big house in Beverly Hills. And the Harley."
"Why did you ask that?" Robin asked, uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes.
"Well, he's your best friend. And you said the person who owned this place was a lawyer. Tony's in the D.A.'s office, so I assume he's a lawyer. I don't mean to pry."
Julia had started serving Robin from the platters on the table and this gave Robin a moment to collect his thoughts. "That's a very good guess. And I promise, by the time Quijada's in jail, I'll tell you everything."
"I also know you aren't only a mechanic." She watched him take a bite.
"This is absolutely wonderful," Robin said closing his eyes in appreciation. When he opened them he looked at her, "What are you doing? You haven't even served yourself."
Julia smiled. "Most of the fun is in watching someone else eat what I cook." She started filling her plate.
"Just watch me then, and you'll see extreme enjoyment. In fact, this is probably the best shrimp I've ever tasted."
"You're evading my question."
"I forgot it, eating this gourmet dinner. You cook like this, and I'll wash dishes till dooms day."
"Okay. You're going to sit there and dodge my questions, so I'll tell you what I think."
"What?"
"You're an undercover cop."
Luckily Robin had his mouth full. He managed to swallow. "How did you reach that conclusion?"
"Well, first, your size and the fact that you work out. Probably with weights, to look at you. I can see you're in excellent physical condition. Then there's the fact that you worked with other cops on the drug buy. You set that up quickly, so I thought you must be involved with them. And you know quite a bit about the law, also."
"I do?" Robin asked with an innocent expression.
"Yes. You were talking about plea bargaining and snitches and jail sentences. Plus, I guessed that you work with people in the District Attorney's office pretty regularly. Your best friend, Tony, works there. But you said there were two friends at gunpoint in the parking garage, so you know more people in that office than Tony. And then there's the most important clue of all."
"What's that?"
"You're an excellent investigator. The things you found out about Quijada, and the way you went about it so fast. No one without some sort of training could have done that."
"Really?"
"Yes. And now all the trouble you're going through to learn exactly how Quijada smuggles the narcotics into this country. You could just give the information to your friends in the D.A.'s office, but you're doing all the work yourself. So you're probably used to working on cases with them."
Robin smiled at Julia. "These vegetables are just perfect. I don't know what you did to them."
Julia was not going to be deterred. "Maybe you're not a full time cop. Maybe you're not a full time mechanic, either. I don't know. But I don't understand what all the secrecy is about."
"Would you rather I was a cop than a mechanic?"
"That's not fair. You're asking because you think I'm a snob."
This conversation was not going at all the way Robin had planned. He wanted them to get to know each other better in this beautiful isolated setting. He didn't want to argue or have to equivocate about his profession. "You are a snob, Julia. But it's okay. I like you just fine the way you are."
"Well, I like you well enough to be curious about your occupation, but let's not have this discussion if it makes you uncomfortable. I just hope you weren't helping me because it's in your professional best interests."
"You want me to be helping you because I like you?"
"You're sounding just like a lawyer, you know? Do you always answer questions with questions, or is it some sort of investigative technique?"
"Let it rest, Julia. Let's enjoy this glorious repast."
"Okay." She sat and looked out the window. She did not say another word for so long that the silence was becoming awkward.
"What you see is what you get."
Julia laughed. "You're very handsome, Robin. But I think under that fine exterior, there's lots more than what I'm seeing."
"That's exactly what I thought about you, when I first met you. And now I know it's true."
"Really?" She could feel a nice compliment coming on.
"You just proved you can cook like an angel."
"What a chauvinistic thing to say."
"That's me. You know the true way to a man's heart."
"A snob who can cook. What a fine characterization," Julia said, pretending to be hurt and sighing gustily.
"No. There you're wrong. Do you want me to be perfectly honest?"
"That w
ould be refreshing."
"Okay. You asked for it." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. He didn't know if he should tell her his true feelings just yet. He decided to go ahead and the hell with the consequences. They wouldn't have much time like this alone after the information she had stolen was furnished to the proper authorities. "I see a woman whom I like very much, who is filled with courage and talent. She can make beautiful photographs, she can write and she can cook. Not even mentioning that she is very beautiful and has great heart, sweetness and loyalty."
Julia stared at him in speechless surprise, her eyes wide open. What he said about her was the nicest thing she had ever heard from anyone. It almost brought tears to her eyes. She had come from a strict upbringing where compliments were rare.
What he said also made her extremely uncomfortable. She felt struck dumb, sliding her eyes away from Robin's. Her gaze landed on the video's that were sitting beside Quijada's ledger books.
"You know what we forgot?" Julia asked.
"No."
"The videos." Julia started talking quickly to cover her confusion. "Brian said they were important and told me specifically in his message to take them from the safe, too. So we should watch them. And it looks like you're almost finished. I'll put a video in the television right now."
She started getting up, picking up her plate.
"Wait." He was laughing gently.
"What's so funny."
"I also see a person who can't take a compliment gracefully."
"Well, shoot. You knocked me over, Robin. But we really should look, don't you think."
"I think I should look."
"What do you mean?"
"Your brother warned you not to. He was right about everything else. I want to preview them. They might be violent, with what we know about Quijada, now."
"My brother was the most wonderful person in the world. He was also overprotective. I want to see what I stole."
"It might be things that Quijada's kept to protect his power. Pictures of gangland killings, or people putting drugs into their veins. Whatever it is, it's not going to be pretty, I'm afraid. And it will all be real. This isn't a movie where you know the bad guy will get up after having been dismembered. It might be terrible."
