A Beach House to Die For

by K C Ames

  “Oh, great,” Dana said.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you. I know this is coming out of the blue. I received notice from their attorney yesterday, so I don’t have too much information yet.”

  “I don’t know how Roy and Skylar can afford all these lawyers. He’s always jumped from one business venture to the next, which have all ended up in failure. She’s worked as a dental assistant and a receptionist, not a lot of money for high-powered lawyers in those jobs.”

  “Didn’t Roy get some money from your uncle?” Courtney asked.

  “Roy inherited ten thousand dollars in cash. Dana was the main beneficiary, getting this property, the Jeep, and the publishing rights to Blake’s surfing and travel books, which are nice little earners,” Benny replied.

  Dana fidgeted on the stool. She had wrestled with the guilty feelings of being named as the main beneficiary to her uncle’s estate, and she understood why Roy was upset. She might have even come to some sharing agreement with Roy, but Skylar went for the jugular from the start and once the lawyers got involved, it was all or nothing for one of them, and she had won fair and square in California. And now Roy and Skylar wanted to keep fighting by moving the legal matters to Costa Rica in another attempt to toss out her uncle’s final will and testament because Roy and Skylar didn’t like what was in it.

  “Do they even want to move here?” Courtney asked.

  “No way. I know Skylar hates it down here. She’s more L.A. than Mariposa Beach, Costa Rica,” Dana replied.

  “They probably want Casa Verde so they can sell it. This property is worth a nice chunk of change. That is why Felicia was all over you this morning. Trying to get first crack at it,” Benny said.

  “Skylar just wants to flip it,” Dana said.

  “That will also help your case. You have moved in, they just want to sell it and take the cash out of Costa Rica and back to the States,” Benny said.

  “But the fact that they’re here, I wouldn’t put it past her to lie and say she wants to live here and how I’m just a squatter,” Dana said.

  “They can say anything they want. It’s what’s in your uncle’s will that matters. It will be my job to prove that their claims are hogwash,” Benny said, flashing a reassuring smile to Dana.

  That night, Dana went to bed certain she would toss and turn all night, but she fell fast asleep until strange pitter-patter sounds coming from the roof awoke her. She grabbed her mobile phone, and it was one in the morning and the racket up on the roof was getting louder. She went for the bedroom light when she heard Courtney scurrying down the hallway towards her room. She flicked the lights on as Courtney came in without knocking and jumped into bed with Dana.

  “I think Napoleon is trying to break in,” Courtney said, eyes darting up towards the ceiling, expecting to see the howler monkeys come crashing through it.

  “Could also be raccoons. Ramón said they have a lot of them here,” Dana said.

  Ramón had warned her about mapaches, the Spanish word for raccoons, that were always hanging around and up to no good in the dead of night. He was constantly shoring up his chicken coop to keep the mapaches and other carnivorous predators out.

  “Raccoons, howling monkeys. It’s like the Wild Animal Kingdom up there,” Courtney said, her eyes glued to the ceiling.

  “Well, I doubt it can get in, whatever it is.”

  “Oh, that’s reassuring. How can you be so calm?” Courtney said, her voice almost a whisper.

  “Why are you whispering?” Dana asked in a mock whisper.

  Suddenly they heard the noise again. Something was definitely walking up on the roof.

  That’s when Dana saw, from the corner of her eye, a small shadow drop down onto the patio’s railing from above.

  Courtney saw it too and yelped.

  “Jeez, Court, you’re going to give me a heart attack. It’s probably a raccoon,” Dana said, grabbing her flashlight.

  “Some wild animal is out there lurking in the shadows, and I’m giving you the heart attack?” Courtney asked.

  Dana smiled, and she stepped forward towards the closed glass patio door while Courtney stepped backward, away from the bedroom.

  Dana glanced over at Courtney and laughed upon seeing her by the door.

  “You’re such a chicken,” Dana said, turning on her flashlight and pointing it outside.

  She shone the flashlight from the glass patio door, which made it difficult to see anything through the glass, but she saw two bright yellow eyes staring back at her.

  “Something is out there, all right,” Dana said.

  “Just let it be, hopefully it will go away,” Courtney said. She had now backed out completely from the master bedroom and was standing out in the hallway, her arms crossed on her chest.

  Intrigued, Dana flipped the switch to the lights of the patio, and sitting on the edge of the patio’s balcony sat a cat, staring at her.

  The cat didn’t even flinch when the lights to the patio flooded out the darkness.

  “It’s just a cat,” Dana said, looking back towards Courtney, who had taken a few steps forward and re-entered the master bedroom. “It’s cute,” Dana said.

  Courtney saddled up next to her.

  Dana was in a stare down standoff with the kitty, but the cat wouldn’t budge. It sat there looking at her, then began to meow.

  Dana unlocked the patio door.

  “Are you nuts? Don’t go out there,” Courtney pleaded.

  “It’s just a cat,” Dana said.

  “It’s probably a feral cat that won’t let you get near it.”

  “It's too friendly, too curious, to be feral. A feral cat won’t sit there meowing at humans,” Dana said.

  “Okay, then it’s a stray cat that might be infested with fleas and who knows what other jungle kung-fu juju it might have,” Courtney said.

  Dana ignored her and opened the patio door and slowly stepped outside. She put her flashlight down so as not to scare the intruder.

  The cat watched her closely as she got closer and slowly extended her hand to the cat, saying, “Hello, kitty.”

  The cat was as white as the sand out on the beach. It had a black marking on its snout and forehead. Unique markings from the cats she had seen in the tropics.

  “You are gorgeous,” Dana said as she slowly walked up to it.

  The cat bowed its little head as if to say you may pet me. So Dana did just that as the cat began to purr wildly while she scratched its little scalp and behind its right ear.

  “It’s for sure not feral,” Dana said as she continued to scratch its head, chin, and rump as the cat arched its back and purred in bliss.

  Finally, Courtney felt it was safe enough to join Dana outside on the patio.

  “It is a cute cat, I’ll give you that,” Courtney said.

  “Aren’t you a little Flying Wallenda? Trapezing down from the rooftop, landing in perfect form. I will call you Wally in honor of the Flying Wallendas,” Dana said, talking to the cat like he understood a word she was saying.

  “Oh, don’t name the cat, you’ll never be able to get rid of it if you name stray animals,” Courtney warned.

  “Why would I want to get rid of it? Wally is adorable,” Dana cooed.

  “He is cute,” Courtney said. “Is it a he or a she?”

  “I don’t know yet. I don’t want to take a peek and spook it,” Dana said. “I’m going to give it some water,” she said, dashing off to the bathroom.

  “A name, water, it will never leave now,” Courtney said. She too was now scratching Wally behind the ears.

  Wally drank some water, purred some more, and then did an Iggy Pop-like stage dive from the porch to the ground down below. Dana and Courtney both rushed to look down to make sure it was okay. Dana used the flashlight to see Wally strutting around by the driveway like it owned the place. Dana followed it with her flashlight as the cat crossed the driveway and disappeared into the shrubbery.

  “I wonder if he’ll come back,
” Dana said wistfully.

  “Like I said, you’ve named it and given it water, he’ll be back,” Courtney said, and yawned. “I’m going back to sleep.”

  Nine

  Wally didn’t come back jumping on the roof, and Napoleon and the other howler monkeys were quieter that night, or perhaps she was getting used their loud nightly shenanigans.

  Dana got up early. She realized that with all the commotion, she still hadn’t made it to the grocery store, and her fridge and cupboards were pathetically empty.

  The only grocery store in town opened early. Courtney was asleep, so Dana ran out to the store to pick up a few things for breakfast at home.

  A few minutes later, she pulled into one of the ten parking spots in front of the Super Fresh Market which was on Main Street across from Ark Row.

  It was a small grocery store with just a few aisles and limited shelf space. She had barely set foot inside where she was greeted warmly by Ernesto and Dora Castro, the owners of the market.

  “We’ve heard so much about you,” Dora said excitedly.

  “You have?” Dana asked. She felt uncomfortable and befuddled. Is the whole town talking about me? she wondered to herself.

  “It’s a small community, word travels fast, you’ll find out once you’re all settled in,” Ernesto said, smiling widely. “Especially since you’re Blake’s niece. We miss that old surfer. He was a great man and did a lot for the community,” he added.

  Dana smiled. She liked to hear all these wonderful stories about her uncle, since all she heard from her father and mother was that Blake was a beach bum who had thrown away a promising career in academia to write silly travel books and live down in the tropics. Dana was sure that if her father were still alive, he would have been beyond mortified that she was following her uncle Blake’s footsteps to the tropics. Her mother disapproved, nothing new there.

  She began to peruse the shelves, and she marveled at the selection of organic foods available.

  “I’m impressed with your organic selection,” Dana said, smiling.

  Ernesto thanked her and explained that it was necessary to meet the demands of the health-conscious yogi tourists that flocked to the Nosara area beaches and its yoga retreats.

  Dana felt a twinge of guilt. It was obvious this grocery store catered to the tourists and expats, not the locals, who could hardly afford to shop there.

  After about twenty minutes and well stocked with groceries, Dana headed back to Casa Verde. She was making breakfast when Courtney made her way downstairs to the kitchen following the scent of freshly brewed coffee and bacon.

  “I love you,” Courtney said dramatically as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

  They ate scrambled eggs that Dana cooked with chunks of bacon, spinach, and onions and buttered wheat toast, along with papaya and pineapple that Dana had just cut up.

  “Some feast you rustled up,” Courtney said.

  “I can whip a mean breakfast, but that’s about it.”

  “Well, you got me beat, I tried to boil some eggs, and I forgot about them until I got a whiff of this awful smell and I ran out to the stove and the water had evaporated and the eggs were all black and burned and nasty. The pot didn’t make it.”

  “Didn’t that happen to you twice?”

  “Maybe.”

  They were just about finished eating when they heard loud meows coming from outside.

  “That must be Wally!” Dana said, sounding excited.

  “He must have smelled that bacon. It got me downstairs,” Courtney said.

  Dana opened the front door and Wally sauntered in like he belonged. He looked up at Dana and he rubbed his little furry head against her leg.

  “Looks like he recognizes you,” Courtney said.

  Dana bent over and carefully picked up the cat, not knowing how it would react, but it loved it; it began to purr and meow sweetly.

  “Looks like you got yourself a pet,” Courtney said.

  “I guess so. I’ve always been more of a dog person, but he’s too darn cute.”

  “Seems friendly like a dog versus your typical aloof cat,” Courtney said, checking out the friendly cat. “Oh, Wally is a boy, I just checked,” Courtney said, grinning.

  “Good, so the name fits.”

  Dana made a little plate of scrambled eggs with bacon bits for Wally, which the kitty ate while purring the whole time.

  “You’ve broken the seal. He will never leave now,” Courtney said, smiling.

  After yesterday’s confrontation with Roy and Skylar, Dana was feeling reclusive and didn’t want to leave Casa Verde. She had to wait for Benny, who was going to bring some legal documents for her to sign, but in the meantime she had nothing to do.

  It took some prodding from Courtney to get her to change her mind.

  “There is no point in staying put, sulking about your cousin and his psycho wife.”

  “You’re right. I’m not letting them bring me down.”

  “Atta girl!”

  So Dana and Courtney spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon at the beach, trying to relax.

  The water was warm and calm, with gentle waves coming in groups of twos and threes.

  They lay on large beach towels on the white sand. Dana brought two of her uncle’s books to read: Surfing Costa Rica was his classic guide to surfing, and The Expats’ Guide To Living Like a Tico, a how-to book for foreigners dreaming of ditching their hated jobs back home to live in a tropical paradise on a budget.

  Dana was engrossed in the books, and marveled at the humor and how well her uncle wrote. She felt bad that it was the first time she had read any of his stuff.

  When it got too hot, they would run into the water, hopping barefoot on the sand like they were walking on hot coals. After a few refreshing minutes in the water, they would go back to the towels.

  Later in the afternoon, Dana and Courtney went to the Qué Vista restaurant for lunch. She was able to meet the owner, Maria Rivera, who also seemed excited about Dana moving into town. They also met a character by the name of Mike Pavlopoulos, who was eating a chicken casado. He was a Greek-American expat that went by the name of Big Mike, which Dana found odd, being that he was a scrawny 160 pounds and was about five feet six inches tall.

  Dana figured Courtney must have been surprised, because she blurted out to him, “Why do they call you Big Mike?”

  Dana winced. The last thing she wanted to do was insult members of the community she was trying to join, plus she worried there was a sordid story behind the nickname.

  Big Mike smiled widely. It was obvious it wasn’t the first time someone had asked him why a short, skinny guy had that nickname, and that he loved to tell the story.

  “I used to be a pro big wave surfer. I surfed Mavericks. Twice,” Big Mike said, beaming with pride.

  It impressed Dana. Mavericks was a world-known big-wave surfing competition held near Half Moon Bay, California, which was about thirty miles south of San Francisco.

  Big Mike got excited when Dana told him they were from San Francisco and knew all about the fifty-foot waves of Mavericks.

  After chatting about surfing and the Bay Area for a couple minutes, something dawned on Dana.

  “Wait a sec, so Big Mike, like on that surf shop we saw over on Main Street?” she asked.

  “That’s me. I came down here in the eighties to surf, and eventually I moved down here. Opened up the surf shop almost twenty years ago,” Big Mike said proudly. “I loved your uncle. I came down here for the very first time with not much more than my surfboard and a dog-eared copy of his surfing guide.”

  That made Dana smile wide.

  He talked and looked like the stereotypical Southern California surfer.

  “What part of California are you from originally?” Dana asked.

  Big Mike laughed. “I’m from Lawrence, Kansas. I was born and raised a Jayhawk.”

  “Not a lot of big waves in Kansas, Big Mike,” Courtney said teasingly.

  �
��Well, I moved to California when I was eighteen—right after I graduated from high school,” Big Mike explained.

  “I had you pegged as being from Long Beach.”

  “Thanks,” Big Mike said proudly. “Well, I have to get going back to the shop,” he said, reaching for his wallet to pay for his lunch. “Make sure to stop by sometime to check it out and say hello. I’ll get you two out on those waves,” he said as he walked away in his white muscle shirt, bright orange longboard shorts, and ultra-green flip-flops.

  “So here’s where Jeff Spicoli wound up at,” Courtney said with a giggle.

  Dana and Courtney walked back to Casa Verde. She would meet there with Benny later that afternoon.

  It surprised her that he was already at the house waiting for them.

  “Hi, Benny, did I have the wrong time? I thought we were meeting at four?”

  “No, I’m early. I need to tell you something urgently. I didn’t want to do it over the phone, so I just drove over. Ramón let me in to wait for you.”

  He seemed somber and glum, which made her nervous. Did the courts somehow quickly decide against her and she had lost Casa Verde to Roy and Skylar?

  “Did we lose the legal battle already?”

  “No, it’s not that.”

  “What is it? You’re freaking me out,” Dana said.

  “Yeah, dude, me too,” Courtney added.

  “Sorry. You were at the beach?” Benny asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Obviously you heard nothing...about Roy?” Benny asked, sounding concerned.

  “No, what now? He’s suing me for swimming in his ocean?”

  “Not sure how to put this,” Benny said.

  “Just put it out there,” Dana replied, a trace of annoyance in her voice.

  “Roy is dead.”

  Ten

  Dana felt terrible. She stepped out to the porch to gather her thoughts and process the news. Wally followed her out, meowed condolences, then plopped down by her feet.