by Pam Richter
The police had identified the small dead body on her bed as that of a rat. Julia knew the poor little animal had been sacrificed as a symbol. A threat to intimidate her. It had worked.
She contemplated Hawaii, the Caribbean, Mexico, or any number of places to relax, write, gestate and await the birth of her baby. She couldn't stay in Boston. She felt like a red bulls-eye target was invisibly imprinted on her back. The phone calls and then the horrible aftermath, the ruination of her possessions in her own apartment, pointed to the fact that Quijada wanted serious, if not lethal revenge. She was afraid her very life was in danger now. Which meant that her baby was also in jeopardy. As long as Quijada knew where she could be found.
Julia couldn't stay with Charlotte. It might put her grandmother in danger. But Julia wished she had someone to share her fears with. She remembered a walk in the snow just a few weeks ago in Lake Arrowhead. At that time she had the comforting feeling that she was sharing her anxiety and had someone she could lean on. Someone who wanted to help her. Now she felt old and cynical, with a heavy weight of responsibility on her shoulders because there was no one to whom she could tell the truth about the telephone calls and the violence so graphically displayed in her apartment.
Although Quijada was in trouble, the investigation had been extremely covert because he was such a well known and respected personage in the film and political life of Los Angeles.
As Julia had conducted the police through the mess, they asked her if she had any enemies who could have caused the damage, because the obvious vandalism did not include theft. Julia acted innocent and confused. She couldn't accuse a famous movie mogul of taking revenge from afar. They would laugh in her face. But she did want an official record of what had happened. If the vandals were eventually caught, they might be traced back to Quijada.
Julia practically threw clothing in a suitcase after the police left. She alone would have to protect her own life and the life of her unborn baby. She took a taxi to the enormous and anonymous Sheraton Hotel in downtown Boston where she felt she would be safe for the night. On the way she had her cab driver take her to several banks and she withdrew enough cash for the trip. She would not be using credit cards on this journey. She remembered the police that Quijada controlled through his pocketbook; how he had found her at the cabin in Lake Arrowhead. Now he had reached all the way across the country. She had to remain hidden until her baby's birth, or until Quijada was in jail, whichever came first.
When Julia got inside her room at the Sheraton Hotel she called the manager of her apartment building to direct the cleaning and repair in her condominium. It was too painful for her to do it herself, and she really couldn't take the time. She had to disappear.
Julia called her grandmother to tell her she would be traveling on a photography shoot for a while. She would get in touch as soon as she knew exactly where she would be.
All the while she was making the arrangements to leave Boston, Julia really knew, in the back of her mind, exactly where she was going. The one place Quijada would never expect her to turn up. Back in California. She wanted to be there and take graphic pictures when Quijada was arrested, hand-cuffed and thrown in jail.
The next morning she tried her own home number from the Sheraton Hotel and found that the telephone line, which had been ripped out of the wall, was repaired. She could still get the messages from Robin each night when she was in California. He had hinted that Quijada's arrest was imminent. Now she could find out exactly when the event would occur.
Julia dozed most of the way to California on the five hour flight. She roused herself when the plane's engines roared into reverse to a thunderous taxi ride to the terminals. The view from the plane's window showed endless sunny skies in a flat dry landscape with mountains in the far distance. She was groggy and sluggish. Forming a new life inside her was using up a lot of energy.
Now that she was sure that the pregnancy was real and not just a wonderful fantasy, she found herself depressed and saddened that there wasn't a husband in the picture who would be thrilled with the news that he would soon become a father. In the past she had played it in her mind like a fantasy motion picture; the wonderful fun of telling someone she was in love with that they were going to have a baby.
Thinking about it made her feel more lonesome than ever. But this reaction was something she had expected. The longing for a strong man must be a primitive throwback all women experience at a time like this; when new life is expected and the woman is not as capable of caring for herself when the time comes to give birth. In her case she didn't have to worry about carnivorous, predatory animals devouring her as she helplessly went through excruciating labor pains.
She did have the threat of the long arms of a vindictive and angry drug lord. Which, in Julia's mind, was almost as scary.
Julia rented a nondescript silver Ford sedan from Hertz when she got to LAX and got a room temporarily at the Airport Hilton Hotel. Even a hotel was dangerous, now that she was in enemy territory. She was anxious that she had to use her own name when she registered for the room, but it had never occurred to her that she would need another identity.
The most noticeable distinguishing characteristic she had was her blond hair. As Julia went into the modern drugstore situated in the vast hotel lobby she found a dark brown color dye to temporarily cover her natural blond. It brought back the disguise Robin had used on his clandestine drug meet with Quijada's underworld associates. She hadn't even recognized him with the rotted teeth, brown eyes, layers of padding and the skull cap which made him appear bald. She almost laughed out loud at the memory. In retrospect it was very funny. Her baby's father had been imaginative and amusing.
As Julia paid, she steeled her intent, sternly reminding herself that Robin had deceived her. There was a natural urge to think favorably of him, as he'd been so steadfast in making the promised phone calls each night. And she had to stop thinking about amazing, fantastic sex. It had been startling that a physical act could be so fantastic.
The worse thing Robin did was to lie when he said he loved her. She had already decided to spend the night with him, so it was unnecessary and cruel. Especially since he had been so persuasive that she believed him. But he was a lawyer. They made a living convincing people of their versions of the truth.
The fact that Robin had lied about his feelings just illuminated the fact that he was a ruthless, slimy lawyer. He wanted sex and was prepared to deceive to achieve the goal of an affectionate and responsive woman in his bed. And he wanted a trial against Quijada, which would give him lots of publicity and further his career.
As Julia read the instructions on the box of hair coloring she reminded herself that Robin was a womanizing skirt chaser who made obnoxious bets about the exact date on which he would bed his next conquest. He didn't deserve another moment in her thoughts. She promised herself that she would put him out of her mind forever. Except for the nightly phone calls.
Robin stood looking at the beautiful apartment building in Boston. The plan was to just drop by and hope Julia wouldn't be too stubborn to see him. He had to smile at his uncharacteristic nervousness. He hadn't been this anxious about a woman since he was about fifteen years old.
The doorman standing under an ornate gold canopy in front of the building asked Robin for identification before admitting him into the lobby. As Robin walked inside and looked around, the place reminded him of a tiny luxurious hotel because there was a front desk, where another man in a blue suit identical to the doorman's stood. The manager politely asked Robin who he was visiting. Robin was asked to wait while the man placed a call to Ms. Monay, after requesting to see his identification again.
They were extraordinarily security conscious here, but Robin thought it was normal because the building catered to wealthy Bostonians who owned these luxury apartments.
Robin sat in the lobby and waited for what seemed an exceptionally long time. He kept glancing at his watch because the hands were evidently stuck. Either that,
or he was so impatient to see Julia again that time seemed to have stopped. He took the ring out of his pocket and looked at it appraisingly, tossing it from one hand to the other, watching sparkles so bright it hurt his tired eyes. The enormous white diamond with the smaller yellow diamonds around it was a little ostentatious, but it was something she would be wearing for the rest of her life. He wanted to give Julia something beautiful. He didn't believe he was being foolhardy or impetuous.
As Robin sat there he realized he was a little pissed at her attitude. So, okay, he had made a silly bet with his pals when he was inebriated. But she would have to get over it, eventually. It was her characteristic stubbornness. He had never met such a stubborn, willful woman in his life. On the other hand, he knew that was one of the qualities he liked best about her personality. The ring would demonstrate his sincerity. He wanted her to have it, even if she didn't think about it as an engagement ring for a while. He tried it on his pinky and it slid down to the knuckle and stuck there. Maybe it was too small. She had long thin fingers.
Robin could see through a glass wall into the back office. The manager was using the telephone. Then, suddenly, two large men in trench coats came rushing in through the front lobby door. They stood in front of Robin, effectively barring his exit from the building, standing too close and appearing angrily intimidating.
Robin knew the men were cops, although they were not in uniform. He was surprised with the thought that they were suspicious of him, principally because he had made an effort to look respectable even though he was exhausted from the night flight. He had hardly slept three hours in the last twenty-four, but his hair was combed and his heavy beard had been recently shaved.
Robin answered the serious but polite police interrogation, producing his identification for the third time in fifteen minutes. He was horrified when he eventually learned the reason for the suspicion of strange men in the building. Especially strange men visiting Julia Monay. Robin was even more worried when he tried to find out where Julia had gone and they couldn't tell him.
As Robin exited the building he decided his only recourse was to go to Julia's grandmother, Charlotte. It was imperative that he find Julia quickly and get her some protection. What had happened was a graphic demonstration of how perilous her situation was. It all made ghoulish sense. Quijada had fashioned the perfect life for himself. He was rich and famous, planning to run for high political office in California. Then Julia stole Quijada's private papers, and suddenly he was losing money in the narcotics trade, there was an enormous investigation, and he might ultimately land in jail. All because one slim and beautiful woman had the audacity to delve into his secrets.
As Robin rode in the taxi to Charlotte's home, he suddenly told the cab driver to turn around. He wanted to go back to the airport because there was no doubt in his mind where Julia had gone. The one place where an impetuous woman with a one-track mind would be headed if she wanted revenge. Right into danger. She was on her way to back California.
Robin knew it with absolute certainty. He also knew exactly how to locate her.
Julia was gazing at herself in the mirror in her hotel room. Since her eyes were dark brown, and her lashes and eyebrows almost black, she didn't think the fake hair color looked false. It was just so...dark. She turned around in front of the full length mirror and laughed aloud. It was almost as though she had a new persona to keep her and the baby safe, an invincible protective aura no one could pierce. She was still recognizable, but it was a wonderful disguise. From far away no one would be able to identify her. She didn't plan on getting close to Quijada.
Julia glanced at her watch. It was time to call Boston and see if she had a message on her answering machine. Julia bounced on the edge of the king sized bed and called her private number. As she listened she could see her own eyes getting larger and wider in the mirror over the dresser across the room.
It was tonight!
She couldn't believe her luck. She had made it just in time. Unbelievable as it sounded, Robin said that the police would be arresting Quijada at his home and that he would be taken to downtown Los Angeles for questioning at about eight this evening. Robin promised to call her as soon as the arrest had been made, later tonight.
Julia sighed as she put in the code to save Robin's message and hung up. His communications had become impersonal in the last couple of weeks, as though he understood that there was no bridge to gap the harm done when she had found out about the wager. In a way she felt sad. He must have given up on her. But it was best for both of them. Best for the baby.
Julia got up and opened her suitcase to check her cameras. She needed special film for night photography and the camera was delicate. She inspected the lenses and decided to get fresh film. She didn't want any mistakes.
She almost felt like the despised paparazzi as she made preparations. She had never done a clandestine night shoot before, in disguise. And she had never taken pictures of anyone without their knowledge and consent. It was a slimy kind of shoot, and she didn't like the way she was feeling about it.
Julia chose black slacks and a black turtle neck sweater. She would be feeling like a thief anyway, taking the pictures. Might as well dress the part. She chose a soft black felt cap she could tuck her hair under. Then she realized that she didn't have to cover her blond hair, noticeable as a beacon in the dark. She gave a grim smile and decided to take the cap anyway.
Julia got her rental car from the garage. She wanted to scout out a good location to take the pictures. If it was dark enough, she could climb up the side wall and have a good view of Quijada's front door from her perch.
CHAPTER 25
Julia was going to be mad as hell when she found out that Quijada wasn't going to be arrested tonight, Robin thought as he drove up the winding hill through quiet blue twilight. He was also worried that his telephone message would be leading Julia directly to Quijada's home, but she would have been suspicious if he had said that they were planning to pick him up for questioning from any other location. Anyway, Robin consoled himself, he'd get there early enough to intercept her and explain why he had misled her.
Robin looked into his rear view mirror and saw one reason. In the car following behind him up the spiraling road was a retired police officer, Thomas McQuery. Robin had hired Tom to keep Julia safe while she was in Los Angeles. Even if Julia wouldn't speak to him, Robin had that consolation.
If Julia showed up it would prove that she was still listening to his phone calls. It had to mean something if she came. On the other hand, it could just mean she was using the information he provided. She had never picked up the phone even once when he called, which was pretty depressing. Of course she was angry, but after all this time he thought it was stretching the point. Robin believed that underneath the outrage she really cared for him. Either way, he would find out tonight.
Robin drove slowly past Quijada's residence. He couldn't see inside the grounds because of the high, thick walls which enclosed the property. Then, as he passed right in front, he saw that the tall iron gates were open and that there were men standing on either side of the opening. He couldn't tell if they were armed.
Quijada must be exceptionally worried if he would obviously post guards. But it was common knowledge now that Quijada might be indited for smuggling illegal drugs. There were narcotic sharks trying to break into his position in the drug trade already. It made Quijada's situation precarious. Snitches were giving him away and he was losing respect with his own people. An inside assassination wouldn't be unusual under the circumstances.
On top of that, Quijada had to worry about the police picking him up at any time. If he appeared to be under siege, it was exactly true.
Robin could see the guards studying his car from the corner of his eye as he slowly continued on past. Doubling back and driving past again would make them suspicious. He couldn't park anywhere near the house or they might come to check him out. At the very least, they would take his license number and trace ownership
of the car.
Robin decided he would have to scout around on foot for Julia to warn her that the place was under guard. He was early enough. There was no sign of her. It was getting dark rapidly and if he was careful the guards wouldn't see him if he snuck around the back of the property.
Robin went a few blocks up the winding road and around a sharp bend, parking in front of another huge mansion. There was no traffic at all on the road. Tom parked right behind him in a dark blue Mustang. Robin went over to the car and told Tom to wait until he came back.
He started walking in the lowering darkness toward Quijada's residence. Skirting around the backyards of several gigantic homes, tramping through wild weeds and brush, he finally reached the back of the property. It took some time. He was getting worried that Julia would arrive and get caught by the guards. Robin saw the tree that he had used to scout over the fence the last time he had been there, when Julia had been inside stealing Quijada's drug records.
Robin was thinking of climbing the tree to peek over the fence and get an overview of the whole property, when he noticed that there was a dark figure standing beside the tree.
Robin stood stock still, hardly breathing, and very slowly squatted as low as possible in the rough brush, hoping the thick weeds and shrubs would hide him. Quijada must have posted surveillance outside the property as well. It was a little guy, standing there, but he did have something that he was gazing at very carefully in his hands. Probably a gun.
Robin was too far away to see clearly in the twilight. But now he was anxious. He should have parked in front and waited for Julia there. She might get caught by guards posted around the outside perimeter of the property, although all he could see was the one man.
Robin backed up slowly and went to the side of the wall and peered around. He couldn't see anyone guarding that side of the property. He started down the rough brick wall toward the front to see if there were other guards, keeping close to the fence. The luminous dial of his watch said he still had about fifteen minutes before Julia would probably arrive. It was almost dark now.
