Another watched Julia that night. Adam Gable’s watery eyes, hidden behind disguising sunglasses, observed her socializing from a solitary booth, kitty-corner from her. He shook his head in disbelief; not only was the girl here with her friends, but barely discernable in the shadowy bar sat the wayward brother of Seth Hayes, a man who’d been missing for more than a year. This was certainly going to earn him a raise from Joe Alletti, yes indeed. He could have kicked himself for not recognizing the Canadian before.
He sipped at his glass of sweet red wine and savored its fullness. This California lifestyle was one he could certainly get used to. Adam noted that Julia Morris had a very nice figure underneath her less than revealing black and white pants’ outfit. She was one mighty fine looking woman and maybe after all this was over and he’d found out what he needed to know from the pretty blonde, maybe he and Julia could have a private session together. The very thought caused him to grin lecherously. Unfortunately, she hung around with too many people tonight and that blasted Hayes followed her, probably keeping an eye on her, which made perfect sense after his brother’s abrupt demise.
“You’re a cautious one Mr. Hayes,” he smirked. “Well, you know what they say; one is more vulnerable in a crowd and she’s heading to UCLA tomorrow. Now that’s a perfect place for a little lady to get separated from her companions,” and he raised a finger to the waitress, deciding a plate of hot, spicy nachos would just hit the spot.
Chapter Nine
The next morning Simon met Julia bright and early for breakfast. They hadn’t made any prearranged plans to meet, so he made sure he was present in the hotel’s buffet restaurant around 7:30. Julia was already seated, munching on a warm chocolate croissant and stirring her tea. Her eyes lifted in pleasure at seeing him.
“So how was your evening Simon?” she asked, as he sank down across from her. Today Julia was a peach dream, her pretty pearl buttoned t-top open slightly at the neck and tucked into pale orange jeans. Her blonde hair was plaited in a loose French braid and comfortable walking shoes enclosed her small feet. Fresh and pretty, this morning no dark smudges ruined the beautiful symmetry of her delicate face. Julia focused her wonderful emerald eyes upon him.
Simon tore his silver ones away and thought rapidly. “Just wonderful. I drove around and stopped at a few dance clubs, not returning until after one. This town is certainly hopping on a Friday night. What about you?” His blatant lie made him want to cringe, but Julia seemed relieved to hear he’d enjoyed such a pleasant evening.
“I just had dinner with my friends and then stopped off for some dessert. I was back by 9:30. I find I’m not very energetic on Friday nights, but did enjoy seeing Connie moon over her new beau.”
“He’s a flamenco dancer as well?”
“That’s right, his name’s Alvaro and he’s quite a character. He has a story for every occasion and kept us very entertained. I’m just not sure he’s such a good choice for Connie. He’s been married twice and lost both of his wives.”
“To illness?” asked Simon.
“To philandering, though I can’t mention that uncomfortable fact to Connie. Anyway, I guess he’s one heck of a dancer and they’re really going to cut a rug this morning.”
“So where exactly are we going?”
“Most of the activities take place at Dickson Plaza in the center of the campus. It’s been a while since I’ve visited UCLA, and even though Connie gave me a map, I need to figure out exactly where she’s going to be performing. Once we get to the campus, let’s park near the Bruin Plaza in case we become separated. It has a large replica of a grizzly bear that’s affectionately referred to as Joe Bruin and everybody uses him as their rendezvous point. If you get lost just look for the Bruin Bear and I’ll be waiting.”
“Okay,” agreed Simon solemnly. “I’ll try not to get lost.”
Julia grinned. “I was just thinking this is going to be a great architectural treat for you. There are some really unusual buildings on campus like The Viewpoint Lounge, The James West Alumni Center, and Kerckhoff Hall. The latter used to be the original student union and is still headquarters for the Associated Student Body.”
“That’s right; you’d be really familiar with the campus because you were an undergrad at UCLA for two years weren’t you?”
“Yes, it’s an amazing place. We’ve got tons of neat buildings like the Wooden Center and the Ashe Center, which was named after Arthur Ashe, the Wimbledon Tennis Champion. Did you know he was a student at UCLA?”
“He was an amazing man,” stated Simon. “I remember when he won Wimbledon; it was a great victory for all African-Americans. It’s such a shame he died of AIDS, contracted from receiving a blood transfusion during heart surgery.”
“It was sad. Anyway, I thought if you wanted me to, I could take some pictures. You’ll get an incredible view of the lower campus at the top of Janss Steps. Much of the campus served as part of the Olympic village in 1984 when the Games were held in LA.”
“I think this is going to be a real treat,” asserted Simon, “so I’d better fortify myself.”
He excused himself, and after obtaining a healthy serving of hash browns and bacon from steaming stainless steel serving dishes, waited while the chef, complete with tall white hat, whipped up a ham, mushroom, and cheese omelet. It was strange, Simon thought as he watched the chef beat the egg batter into a frothy mixture before pouring it into a hot oily pan, that after all that had happened to Julia, she was still able to think of others. She’d gracefully included him in her trip to LA, had seemed genuinely contrite when he couldn’t have dinner with her, and now was eager to snap photos of some of UCLA’s architectural wonders. It was no wonder Seth had loved her so much.
Simon didn’t get lost, in fact, with a bit of luck, he found a parking space before Julia did and leaned nonchalantly against the bronze bear statue at the foot of Bruin Walk. Already the strum of Spanish guitars floated from the Plaza while many gaily-bedecked dancers passed by them on their way toward the festivities. Julia and Simon followed a glossy-haired dancer to the commons above Janss Steps. As soon as they turned the corner, countless booths featuring items from lacy Spanish blouses and hand-dipped candles, to a booth serving genuine fajitas appeared. Mexican music surrounded and penetrated the busy plaza and their attention focused upon a makeshift stage erected directly in the center of the square. Two yellow-skirted women, hair pulled back into sleek buns, clapped their hands and stomped to the wonderfully energetic Spanish music.
“When’s your boss scheduled to go on?” called Simon over the loud music, as he watched a teenaged dancer tap her feet to the rapid rhythm. He wondered how the dancer managed to keep a perpetual smile upon her face when Simon personally knew he would have been exhausted beyond belief.
“She and Alvaro’s troupe start at 9:45, but I thought it might be fun to explore the campus and observe some of the sights before they begin.”
Simon agreed and for an hour they strolled through the lushly landscaped campus. Julia had been correct about the architecture, which was indeed lovely. They passed by Moore Hall and spent thirty minutes in the Powell Library as Simon examined the building’s famous ornamental tile work. The architects, George W. Kelham and David Allison, had proposed using the Romanesque style they’d observed in the Lombardy region of northern Italy, and finally managed, after a great deal of effort, to convince the university’s founders, Edward Dickson and Earnest Moore, to embrace it as the new university’s style.
“It’s so lovely,” said Julia, gazing up at the rounded ceiling.
“It’s true Romanesque,” stated Simon, “and I can see many of the older buildings have adopted this style as well. Do you know when the campus was originally built?”
“I think in the 1920’s. If you like this then I’m sure you’ll enjoy the painted ceilings of Royce Hall. The Loggia is supposed to depict the twelve medieval professions. I used to stand under it as an undergrad between classes and marvel at the amazing architecture.�
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“In many ways you sound like a frustrated architect yourself?”
“No, not really. I truly enjoy teaching, although I admit Seth inspired me to have a greater appreciation of architecture. Every building here compliments the basic theme of the campus, though very different from UCSB which was developed along the Spanish Mediterranean style using the original mission to set the tone for subsequent buildings. Seth was adamant about following regional themes and he’d probably be delighted that UCLA was so carefully designed to follow the classic ideal.”
“Wow! You are an amateur architect!”
She laughed at Simon’s amazed glance. “Okay, okay. I admit I remember that from my high school tour of the campus when I was considering UCLA.”
“So what made you leave UCLA?” Simon asked, examining the octagonal dome of the Powell Library.
“After deciding I didn’t want to go into film after all, my mother became ill at the end of my sophomore year and I wanted to be close to her. It’s not like UCLA’s that far from Santa Barbara, but it seemed reasonable at the time to transfer to UCSB. I’ve never regretted the choice though I still harbor warm feelings for UCLA. Would you like me to take some pictures?”
He nodded and over the next twenty minutes Julia snapped several shots of the Janss Steps, the lovely domed interior of the Powell Library, and was just heading toward the Alumni Center when she glanced at her watch.
“Oh no! We’ve got to hurry back to the plaza since it’s almost 9:45. Connie will be starting her routine any minute!”
Simon had difficulty keeping up with Julia as she sprinted toward the commons, his injured leg hindering his progress.
Julia positioned herself near the stage and sure enough, exactly at 9:45, Alvaro and Connie stepped onto the wide platform accompanied by two other couples. Connie leaned her head back to gaze lovingly at Alvaro, who stretched out a hand to the comely principal who wore high-heeled tap shoes; a yellow and scarlet flounced skirt topped by a beautiful low-cut Mexican blouse, and a beckoning smile. Connie had tied her shiny black hair back with lovely tortoiseshell combs and grinned down at Julia as the music cued. Her warm brown eyes suddenly widened at the sight of Simon. He nodded pleasantly to her and discreetly backed off, not wishing to distract her.
It was an amazing performance as the energized pair flawlessly executed a synchronized rendition of the famous hat dance and three other pieces Julia didn’t recognize. Simon observed the entire proceedings bemusedly, remembering his own college days while casting appreciative glances at Julia. The faint breeze tugged at her long blonde hair, loosening it about her face and tingeing her cheeks pink. Her peach outfit skillfully disguised her too-thin figure and Simon sighed as Julia snapped several pictures in rapid succession. He scanned the boisterous crowd, suddenly noting a dark sunglassed man leaning against a pillar across the plaza.
Stan’s thick moustache twitched in recognition as Simon sauntered over to the leaning man, who slowly and deliberately lit an unfiltered cigarette.
“Having a good day Detective?”
“Ah, this is the life. A sunny clear morning on the beautiful grounds of UCLA; it reminds me of my own college days. The tantalizing odors of fajitas and tacos, the sight of beautiful dark-haired women strolling by, and the rhythm of ethnic music… ah, it makes me long to be an upperclassman again. It also almost makes one forget how a certain rash young Canadian is compromising an innocent woman’s position.”
“You’re wrong on both accounts,” said Simon. “I’m not Canadian, at least I’m only half one since I carry a dual passport, and I’m not compromising anybody’s position.”
“Hum, tell that to Angus. I hope you’re aware, Simon, that Adam Gable would love to see you just as dead as your brother. Seth wasn’t the only ‘black-listed’ man in your family from what I’ve heard.”
“Hopefully Adam will never get his wish. So you’re keeping a good eye out?”
“But of course,” said Stan, “that’s what I’m paid the big bucks for.” He took a deep drag on his cigarette and grinned, blowing smoke into Simon’s unflinching face as the two examined each other.
Not so very far away, under the shadow of an enormous Eucalyptus tree, Adam Gable lifted his cell phone to his ear and called in a debt owed.
“Roy, this is Adam.”
“Nice to hear from you bud, I’ve been waiting for your call,” returned a heavy Alabama drawl.
“I’m currently at UCLA at the Hispanic Arts Festival and need that favor. Where are you hanging right now?”
“Westwood; there’s a nice little joint here that serves up real biscuits and gravy.”
“How convenient. I need you to take care of an annoying problem that’s popped up for me. It has something to do with the police.”
“I get to whack a police officer? Today is my lucky day.”
“Hold your horses. All I want is for this guy to be incapacitated for a few hours while I take care of some unfinished business. Hey,” he protested, to the nasal whine that hummed across the line, “its good money for doing almost nothing.” Adam listened for a while, his mouth twitching in distaste. He never really cared much for Roy, but beggars can’t be choosers and Roy was very efficient.
“I’ll meet you in front of the Bruin Statue in fifteen minutes. Of course I’ve got a photo of the guy. I just took a Polaroid and you can’t miss the jerk with his big ugly mustache. All I’m looking for is a diversion. Roy, I told you, you don’t have to kill anybody. Jeez, aren’t you aware if you kill a policeman it’s the gas chamber. I’ve got a much better idea. Yeah, see you soon.”
Adam flipped his phone off, tucking it into his black jeans’ pocket before leering again at the oblivious Julia, who kept snapping pictures of her energetically dancing boss. If only Seth had been forthcoming about the true nature of the game, the little lady might have been forewarned about her current danger. So much for true love.
It was purely a fluke that Simon spotted Adam Gable at all. He’d left Julia to Stan’s diligent watch and headed toward the Franklin D. Murphy Sculpture Garden, which is renowned as an open-air museum, and even though the jacarandas were not in bloom he ambled about, examining the works of many notable twentieth-century sculptors such as Henry Matisse, Jean Arp, and Henry Moore. He needed to place some distance between him and the young elementary teacher he so desperately wanted to protect, so he wandered through the heavily vegetated path, enjoying some of the often odd-shaped sculptures.
Simon suddenly noticed a tall pallid man hovering near the scaly trunk of a sleepy jacaranda tree. This time his eyes didn’t deceive him; it was the same man from the silver BMW and matched to a ‘t’ the snapshot Stan had flashed him several minutes earlier. The gaunt man watched him intently and Simon pretended not to notice, his heart thudding painfully as he headed back toward the Dickson Plaza, pretending to search for the men’s toilets. He quickly scurried into Royce Hall and hid inside the first archway. Sure enough, the hurried steady tread of the quickly moving man passed by the entry he’d just ducked into.
“Damn,” he cursed. They’d been followed, and what better place for Adam Gable to strike than in the middle of the UCLA campus amongst thousands of people. Simon hurried back toward the stage where Connie and her troupe had just finished their performance. He searched vainly for Julia, finally discovering her near a jewelry stand fingering a heavy amber necklace.
“Julia,” he tried to say nonchalantly. “I think I’ve had just about as much culture as I can stand and I’m dying to see Tinsel Town. Are you ready to take me to Hollywood so that I can get my fix of celebrities on the Walk of Fame?”
Julia glanced up and smiled. “There’s still a lot to do here. Are you sure you want to take off now?”
“Positive,” stated Simon firmly. “It’s just that my hip is really bothering me and I need sit down for a while. I thought maybe we could have some lunch somewhere. I’d stay here, but this loud music is really getting to me.”
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Julia grinned. “So mariachi bands are not to your taste, kind sir?”
“I like them in small doses; very small doses. I know that you might want to come back here later so why don’t we take my car and leave yours here?”
“Whew,” said Julia after a particularly loud trumpet blast. “I can see your point. I’m ready to go as well. However, I’d rather take my car back to the hotel since I wouldn’t mind retrieving a sweater. It can get quite chilly here in the evenings, being so close to the ocean, and I’m sure we’ll be out for while.”
“Alright,” said Simon hesitantly, casting a glance over his shoulder. Neither Stan nor Adam Gable was anywhere to be seen. “We’ll meet back at the hotel then.”
While it went against his better judgment, Simon followed her as she headed toward the Getaway Suites. Julia took her own sweet time too, and for the first time he felt some impatience with the seemingly content woman. Simon watched as she parked her car and disappeared inside her room lugging some of the heavy photographic equipment. He made a quick dash to his own room, picking up his spare cash and an extra box of cartridges. Five minutes later, jacket in hand, he met Julia at his 4x4.
“If your leg’s hurting I can drive if you want?” Her handbag and a brown wool coat hung over her arm.
“No, I think I’d like to drive.”
“But if you’re in pain it would only make sense for me to drive. C’mon?”
“Then why don’t you take a spin in my Pajero?” he asked. He’d feel more secure in the bronze off-road vehicle.
“That sounds like fun,” said Julia, smiling at the truck. Within moments, she’d hoisted herself up into the driver’s seat and adjusted the rearview mirror. “This is a very nice truck. I can see why both you and Seth enjoy 4x4s.”
“Yeah,” croaked Simon, peering about the nearly empty parking lot. Luckily for them the silver Beamer hadn’t shown up yet. “Do you want me to navigate?” he asked.
Love Never Dies Page 16
