G'Day USA

by Tony McFadden

  The beauty of it was jogging in Southern California was as natural as bottled water and spray tans. I fit right in. Not sure if he would.

  Jogging up the beach walk was easy. Keeping an eye behind me to see if someone was following, not so much. I’d slow and rotate the full 360 every few hundred meters, and there were others jogging along behind me, but none looked like homicidal maniacs.

  Whatever that looked like.

  The crowd thinned. The wind picked up and the temperature dropped.

  The crowd on the beach were pussies. This was perfect running weather. It had cooled to the low seventies and working up a sweat was no longer a concern. I hit a rhythm. At this point I didn’t care if I was being followed; endorphins had kicked in and I was feeling excellent.

  I wound around the Venice Beach Rec Centre and took a glance over my shoulder. Nobody. Not a single soul was jogging behind me, which was disconcerting. Either I had lost the guy, or he had other plans. I eased up on the pace to a coast. I was half way to the Santa Monica Pier. The plan didn’t really work. There was no point doing the full run. I turned around and started jogging back.

  I felt like those Secret Service guys you see running beside the Presidential motorcade, hyper-alert and ready to take down anyone even slightly suspicious.

  But there was no one.

  Sitting on the edge of the skate park bowl was a face I hadn’t expected to see. ‘Kent?’ He looked like shit. ‘You okay?’

  He rubbed his face. ‘So there you are. I’ve been looking for you.’

  ‘Why? I’m trying to keep a low profile here, mate.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to call you and it’s been going to voice mail. Thought the worse might have happened to you.’

  I stood in front of him, arms spread wide. ‘I’m just fine. You shouldn’t be down here. The cops are still looking for me and you’re a known associate. If they’re following you around they’ll find me, and I don’t want them to find me.’

  ‘So you’re okay?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ I looked around. Was anyone watching us? The crowd was thin. I stuck out a bit. ‘Where are the kids? This place is never empty.’

  He nodded toward the ocean. ‘Probably the crap weather coming in. So you’re sure you’re okay?’

  ‘Don’t I look it?’

  ‘You look like you’ve been living rough for a couple of days. Where you been hanging out?’

  I shook my head. ‘Doesn’t matter. It’s ending tonight.’

  A small smile crossed his face so fast I almost missed it. ‘Turning yourself in?’

  ‘Eventually. Things I’ve got to finish first.’

  ‘What in the hell are you hoping to accomplish?’

  I sat down beside him. ‘I can’t go talk to Perkins and their crowd until I have enough information to convince them somebody set me up and is now trying to kill me.’

  ‘So the cops are right? Someone’s trying to kill you? Who?’

  ‘Some Batman-voiced asshole calling me. And texting me. He’s already admitted to killing Sweeney and has promised tonight will be my last sunset.’

  ‘And you’re not going to the cops?’

  ‘Like they’d believe me. No, I’m going to draw this asshole out and finish him off myself.’

  He laughed.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  Kent wiped his face and tried to compose himself. ‘Look, I’m all for female independence and all that, but if there’s a guy threatening to kill you, don’t you think you should take him a bit more seriously? You’re not a muscle-bound athlete. You’re scrawny.’ He got a silly serious look on his face. ‘Look, Ellie, you’ve got to take this seriously. You don’t want to end up dead over this when you could avoid it.’

  ‘Avoiding things just puts it off. This guy is a whack-job. He said I’m just one on a list and when he’s finished with me he’s got more to go through. I just avoid it and someone else is targeted. You know me. I can’t do that. I need to find the fucker.’

  He put his hands up in surrender. ‘Hey, crazy lady, you’re on your own. Don’t let me get in front of you and your crusade. You’re just going to get yourself killed.’

  I stood and dusted the sand off my ass.

  ‘Where you going?’

  ‘You don’t need to know. I don’t want any of my friends dragged into this. Too many people getting hurt already. I don’t want to add you to the list.’ I took off my cap, scratched my scalp and tugged it back on. ‘So bugger off and let me finish this. Don’t follow me. There’s already someone out there saying they’re following me and I don’t want to get confused.’ I turned to leave. Then thought of something. ‘Hey, just one thing. Can you check with Stevie, or whatever her name is to see what Perkins and his cohort are really up to? I don’t buy this angle they believe I was set up. I think it’s just a trap. Can you sass it out? I’ll be by here tomorrow at noon. Gives you a day to find out for me.’

  ‘Noon tomorrow? I thought tonight was going to be your last sunset.’ He had a mocking grin on his face.

  ‘Don’t piss me off or I’ll show you how strong I am. You check with Stevie, okay?’ I continued jogging south, keeping an eye for whoever was following me.

  I scratched my scalp though my hat. I was getting itchy. No, check that. I was itchy. This lack of personal hygiene did not suit me.

  The beach was almost vacant. I hadn’t been paying attention to the news, let alone the weather. The storm must be a big one. The onshore wind picked up. The caps ripped off the top of the swells, but they were big. Some boys on boards stuck some nice ones. I envied them. I would love nothing more than to take my old board out and submerge myself in the waves. It had been too long.

  And it had been too long since I had a shower. I felt like Ann looked. I jogged south past the Venice Fish Pier and cut closer to the surf.

  And almost ran into Ann.

  I caught myself and took her by the hand. ‘Ann? It’s me, Ellie. You okay?’

  ‘You mean am I lucid right now? I am.’ She winced as she licked her lips. ‘A bit sore, but I’m lucid.’

  A held her head gently and leaned down to look at her face. ‘Oh, honey, so sorry. This is because of me. Someone chasing me somehow linked you to me and because of that you got hurt. I never meant that to happen.’

  ‘Of course you didn’t. That’s just stupid talk. I’ve had worse, believe me.’ She snugged her coat. ‘We’re in for a biggie. Who was that guy?’

  ‘Which one?’

  She pointed at her face. ‘Which one do you think I’m talking about? The one who punched me. He knew you and wasn’t very nice.’

  ‘I don’t know his name, but he’s the guy who killed the man I’ve been accused of killing, and now wants to kill me.’

  ‘Young lady, you need to go to the police.’

  ‘You sound like my mom.’ I smiled. ‘What she sounded like. Before she died.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, it’s been over ten years now.’ I took off my hat and scrubbed my scalp. ‘I need to get clean. I can’t go to the police. They still think I killed a guy and unless and until I can prove different, going to them will just guarantee me a life in jail, or the death penalty if they still do that.’

  She stood there shaking her head until I thought she was slipping into a fugue state again.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Too much death. Too much death.’ She started walking south, the surf lapping at her feet. ‘Too much death.’

  I ran up along side and stopped her. ‘No more.’ I took her by the hand. ‘Now you wouldn’t happen to have any soap or shampoo in one of those pockets would you?’

  She sniffed, squeezed my hand and looked up at me. ‘Sure. And you need it. You stink.’ She took a small bar of soap from one of her many pockets. ‘Biodegradable, safe for the planet.’

  ‘You’re a life saver. Where can I go?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Where can I go to wash? I can’t just lather up in the o
cean, they’ll freak.’

  ‘Who?’

  I pointed to the life guard shack down the beach. ‘Them.’

  ‘They closed the beach early, about half an hour ago. Big storm coming in.’ She smiled. ‘The pretty boys left ten minutes ago.’

  ‘Just us pretty girls, then. I’m going in.’

  I took off my shoes, jeans and top and folded them in a pile under the pier.

  ‘Um, Ellie, you’re topless.’

  I crossed my arms across my chest. ‘Sure. I know. But hardly.’ I leaned down and picked the soap up from the pocket of my jeans. ‘I’ll get under quick. I’m going to be staying under the pier anyway.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. It doesn’t seem very safe. The waves are getting big and those pilings are concrete.’

  ‘I’m a big girl. I’ve swum in much worse conditions than this. You should see some of the surf we get in Australia. And I’m not even going out very deep. Just need to wash off. You coming out too?’

  ‘Oh, no. I got a place I can go to every once and awhile. YWCA just up the road. You could have gone there.’

  I shook my head as I started to wade into the cold water. ‘No, the police would have sent my picture around there, probably. If you’re not coming in could you keep an eye on my stuff? Thanks.’

  I waded into the water, up past my waist, threading through the pilings. The waves were building in strength, pushing me against them a couple of times. I got up to my armpits in the water, waves crashing off the pilings and then off me, bouncing me around a bit.

  I caught a shadow in the other side and stopped and looked. Nothing. I turned my back to the beach and started lathering. I was probably going to get busted for this so I moved fast. There was no way I’d feel fully clean with the salt water, but this was much better than nothing. I lathered all the sweaty bits then submerged my head.

  God, the water was cold. I returned to the surface and soaped my hair. The short hair felt funny, but good. I was going to keep it that way for a while. I ducked under to rinse off the lather and I didn’t think I was ever going to make it back to the surface.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Killer sat in the sand a short distance north of the pier and watched as Ellie undressed. He smiled and licked his lips. This might be better. It wasn’t the plan, but when opportunities like this presented themselves he had to take them. There was no question.

  This opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

  From where he sat the pilings were a disorganized stand of concrete tree trunks, but if shifted a little bit, either toward the water or away from it, they lined up forming a diagonal grove of pillars.

  He didn’t have the cover of darkness like he wanted to, but the darkness under the pier and the cover provided by the pilings almost made up for it.

  This scenario also prevented him from torturing her as much as he wanted to, and he had anticipated that part of the mission the most. But death by drowning could still be a very horrible way to go, especially if he didn’t actually kill her, but incapacitated her somehow and left her to drown.

  He laughed. He promised her a death by self-immolation, the “self”, of course being involuntary. Now he was on the opposite end of the spectrum, trading fire for water, contemplating drowning her.

  He shook his head. ‘No, not contemplating, doing.’

  Once he was done with her he could leave a scrawled suicide note, crumpled and damp from the rain, stuffed in a pant pocket.

  He watched her fold her clothes and stack them under the pier. Perfect. Then as she walked into the water she disappeared among the mess of the pilings. Occasional and brief glimpses between them marked her progress into the ocean.

  Disorganization was his friend. He stood and slowly approached the pier. He needed to use the angles for concealment. As he approached he could hear her humming. This was even better than he expected. Her guard was down. She wasn’t expecting anything during the day and it was a couple of hours before it got dark.

  Perfect.

  Roughly ten feet separated the pilings, three across the width of the pier and extending well out into the ocean. He walked down toward the water on the north side of the pier, peeking between pilings to ensure he wasn’t spotted.

  A large wave surged up the beach and between the concrete pillars, swirling seaweed and foam in a dizzying and loud mess.

  The noise covered his stumbling approach through the water.

  He stopped in knee-deep water and look down.

  His shoes, his clothes, his wallet and his watch. He hadn’t thought this through.

  But there was no time for thinking. It would all work out. It always did.

  The water squished though his shoes and socks, weighing down his legs. His jeans pulled down on his ass as the water wicked up to his crotch. Another wave swept up the beach and he had to hold on to a piling to stay on his feet. He inched a little closer and peered around the column and saw Ellie, short hair full of suds, humming while she scrubbed. Her back was three-quarters to him. He could see the slight swell of her right breast.

  ‘Small-titted bitch.’

  She stopped scrubbing and looked around. He pulled back out of sight and waited for her to duck her head under for a rinse.

  Cathy picked up her phone and put it down on the table.

  Bernie made a tick mark on a piece of paper by his chair. ‘That’s ten.’

  ‘Ten what?’

  ‘Ten times now you’ve gone to call someone and thought better of it. What’s going on?’

  She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Horseshit nothing. It’s something. What is it?’

  She sighed. ‘You know Ellie mentioned someone was framing her and she had a friend who had a friend in the police station who was helping her out?’

  ‘The friend’s name was Kent Williams.’

  ‘Not him. What was the name of the person inside the police station?’

  Bernie closed his eyes and thought. ‘Different name. Guy’s and girl’s. Sammy? Shelly? Not that’s not a guy’s name, just a girl’s name.’

  Cathy snapped her fingers. ‘Stevie.’

  ‘Yup. That’s it. Why?’

  ‘I’m calling the station and talking to her.’

  ‘She’s not going to talk to you.’

  ‘She’s talking to an actor about Ellie. I’m Ellie’s best friend. Surely this Stevie will talk to me.’

  ‘The actor’s her friend, but what the hell, go for it. Maybe you’ll get lucky.’

  The killer looked around the pillar to see Ellie submerge herself to rinse the soap out of her hair. He seized the opportunity and pushed through the swirling water as fast as he could. Less than three seconds after she went under he was near her. Behind her.

  He placed his hand above her head. As she came up to breathe he let her get to nose level then pushed down with all of his strength. He leaned into it. Her hands breached the surface and started grabbing at his, but he had a full handful of her short hair.

  He braced himself and pulled up, hard.

  His voice deepened. ‘Too bad, no fire to end your life. I’m sure you were anticipating that. No, today you drown. Repeatedly.’

  She struggled to turn around to see him. He smiled and shook his head. ‘No dice.’ He grabbed her by the back of the neck and held her steady. ‘Got your breath? Hope so ‘cause you’re going under again.’ He chuckled, deep and hoarse. He was doing his throat in with this. He looked forward to killing her and stopping with the stupid voice.

  He relaxed his attention a bit too much.

  Wool gathering, his grandmother used to call it.

  A pointy fist to the side of the head would be his new name for it. ‘Hey, bitch,’ he growled. ‘The more you fight, the longer I’m going to keep you alive, suffering in one contrived torture session after another.’

  She struggled again, trying to turn.

  He grabbed her by the back of the neck again and squeezed.
‘Bitch.’ He leaned his head close to hers. ‘Get used to being owned, bitch.’

  Ellie snapped her head back, catching him on the nose and left cheek, cracking both. ‘Ungh. Fuck you asshole.’ She lunged forward and glanced off a piling, wiping soap from her eyes.

  The Killer held his face and swore. He struggled forward against the waves and dove under the water, catching her by the ankle. He pulled her under and stood on her back with one foot, feeling her struggle. He leaned against a column for support and waited until she stopped. He held his face with one hand, blood pouring out of his nose.

  When she stopped moving he reached down to grab her by the hair and was met by a flurry of fists and kicks. A wave surged around the pilings knocking them both off their feet. Clumps of seaweed covered them, like slimy fishnets pulling them under. The Killer kept his head averted and staggered around behind Ellie, grabbing her by the throat from behind.

  She struggled to stand, grabbing his pinky fingers and twisting them outwards with a grunt. She rolled her left shoulder and swung her elbow back glancing off his jaw, knocking him backwards into the surf.

  He fought through the increasing waves and the seaweed. He leaned against a piling and peeled a clump of seaweed from his face. Ellie was cursing and yelling something, fighting against the waves to get to the beach.

  ‘Like fuck, bitch.’ The two of them fought against a rising surge. The wind increased and the heavens opened, a sheet of rain coming from the sky.

  The Killer wiped the rain from his eyes and lurched forward, grabbing Ellie by the arm and dragging her back, careening off one piling and smashing her into another. The wind whipped the caps off the waves, blinding them with the spray. His rage grew. This wasn’t supposed to be so difficult. He stumbled, falling more than he was walking and fell on top of Ellie. He pushed her face into the water and wiped the spray off his face with the other hand. ‘Fuck, you fucking bitch.’ She struggled, flailing with both arms, then kicked out with her feet catching him in the groin.

  He double over, releasing her head and cursing. She pushed up, sucked in a lungful of air and screamed something the Killer couldn’t make out. She kicked at him again, missing and ran up the beach. A wave caught her, slamming her into one of the pilings. She slumped and grabbed on to it. The Killer struggled to get to his feet and pushed through the water to reach her when the crazy bag lady waded into the water. She looked at him, narrowed her eyes and helped Ellie get to the beach.