Full Bodied Murder

by Christine E. Blum

  “You are too kind, you don’t have to do this Miss Hall. If I work hard, we get by.”

  She had reddish-brown hair that she kept in a net and pretty deep-set eyes. All in all a pleasant face.

  “What about Ray, can he help you at all?”

  “Who? I don’t know any Ray.”

  She started to shut down and got busy putting her belongings back into her cart.

  “I’m sorry, I’d heard that you and Rosa’s brother were dating. I must have gotten that wrong.”

  “You did. Thanks for the juice. And everything.”

  She handed me back my glass and quickly moved on.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Ray had some sort of hold on her and the kids, she was so quick to deny even knowing him.

  I’d have to talk to Agent Peggy about this.

  Chapter 23

  I walked out of my meeting buoyed by the results. When I reached the boardwalk, I did a little fist pump and jump, this was going to keep me busy for at least the next eight months. I thought that this called for a celebration but this time Cassie was otherwise engaged. Just on the off chance that he was free for the next couple of hours, I called Jack. Maybe this was the way to get back into his good graces while showing him how well I take care of myself.

  “What are you doing?” I asked when he answered on the first ring.

  We agreed to meet at a kind of dive bar in Playa that he said he’d been going to since he got the surfing bug when he was barely an adult.

  The Turtle Roll Tavern is nestled at the fairly remote end of Playa del Rey, it is mostly a locals’ hangout. This sleepy beach community runs parallel along the Pacific on the Westside of Los Angeles, and the area was once a surfing Mecca. The beach at the northernmost end of Playa del Rey is still known as “Toes Beach” or just “Toes” by the local surfing community, a name born from the Hang Ten surfing stance. Jetties built to prevent beach erosion have since quieted the waters and surfers now hang at the famed El Porto Beach where an underwater canyon creates some “sick sets.”

  It is a real good old dive bar with red vinyl padded stools, a brass foot rail under the bar, and enough risqué nautical kitsch to make a sailor blush.

  It was just past noon, but once inside the shaded windows was a healthy-sized crowd of bikers, Hawaiian-shirted surfer bums, and blue-collar workers in Dickie’s. It could just as well have been midnight.

  Jack was already seated and blending into this boozy biosphere. He was clearly glad to see me and I hoped that we could just move forward and not rehash our last scene. He explained that Turtle Roll Tavern had all the basic food groups: pool, bartenders with heavy hands, and live jazz jams most nights of the week.

  Our booth had the best view of the stuffed blue marlin hanging on the wall sporting Christmas lights, which I am sure are a year round fixture. While I took in the fish, along with the collection of mounted shark jaws, I noticed that the bare-chested mermaid statue behind the bar had transfixed Jack.

  “You know her?” I asked, laughing.

  “Vaguely, I know her dog better.”

  He funny.

  We ordered beers even though I don’t really like beer, but I was celebrating and it seemed like the right thing to do in a place like this. I didn’t see anyone else eating but I was starving and craving an Italian chopped salad. Something about the mixed textures of garbanzo beans, mozzarella, and salami all doused in a tangy, garlic dressing gets me every time. When Jack was on his second pint, I grew impatient to order.

  “Is there a menu I can look at?” I asked, waving to the bartender.

  He directed me to a chalkboard at the side of the bar. It looked like it hadn’t been changed in years.

  TODAY’S GRUB

  Meatball Sub

  Our Famous ¼ lb. Hot Dog

  Nachos

  Pretzels with Spicy Mustard Dipping Sauce

  Corn Nut Beef Tacos

  Crap, I was either going to need a Wine Club this afternoon and pass on lunch, or have to call this what it will be. A cleanse.

  I opted for what I hoped was the least carcinogenic.

  The door to the tavern opened, spilling a pointed shard of light into the room. It was enough for me to recognize the two guys who had walked in. I quickly threw on my sunglasses and grabbed Jack’s Dodgers cap off his head and put it on mine. I also sunk down in the booth, hoping that I wouldn’t be seen.

  “What gives, babe? Though I must admit that you look pretty cute in my hat.”

  “Zeke and Ali Baba just walked in. I don’t want them to know that I’m here.”

  “Okay, there were only a couple words in that sentence that I actually understood.”

  I explained it to him in a whisper but it took him a while to understand and be sure that I wasn’t just messing with him.

  “They don’t know me, right? Never seen me? I’ll go over and get chummy and see what I can pull out of them.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  Too late, the amber-eyed redwood had moseyed on up to the bar next to the Jamaicans. All I could do was watch surreptitiously from under my/his cap.

  When I next looked over, Jack and Ali Baba were laughing and slapping each other’s backs. Even Zeke had let down his guard a little bit. I hoped that Jack was getting more than just ganja jokes from them.

  The bartender came by with our lunch and asked if I wanted him to bring Jack’s to the bar. I told him “no,” hoping that Jack’s hunger would get the better of him and he’d wrap up the interview.

  The tavern door opened again but was quickly shut from the outside. Seconds later, Zeke’s phone rang. He didn’t say anything but as soon as he hung up he tossed some cash on the bar, grabbed Ali Baba by the sleeve, and dragged him out. This time the door took longer to close, which gave me enough time to see Ray waiting outside. I could swear that I saw steam coming out of his ears.

  When Jack sat back down, he devoured his meatball sub. I have learned, being around him enough now, that when a big man needs to eat he will think of nothing else. I nibbled on my hot dog desperately trying to convince myself that this tasted much worse than a salad.

  It didn’t.

  When Jack had finished and worked systematically to remove all the sauce and cheese from his beard, he was ready to talk.

  “I couldn’t get them to name their boss; I think when I told them I was looking for a kilo they figured that they could sell this one direct and cut out Ray.”

  “Ray was here, he started to walk into the bar, must have seen you and quickly shut the door.”

  “Ah, that explains the phone call and sudden bugging out. I wonder if he just recognizes me from tracking him with the K-9 unit or if he knows that we are together?”

  “I’m going to guess both; I told you he’s the one who defiled my pool, I’m sure of it. He was trying to scare us off.”

  “Did he see you here?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, whatever he tells his two assistants, I doubt that it will stop basic greed. Especially that Ali Baba one.”

  “So how’d you leave it with them?”

  “Seems that they have a fairly big shipment coming in sometime in the next few weeks. When it arrives, they are supposed to call me and tell me where to meet them.”

  “Whenever that is, Bardot and I are coming with you. And you’d better bring your K-9 friends.”

  “You going to eat the rest of that hot dog?” he asked, reaching for it.

  “Yes!” I said, pushing his hand away and putting his hat back on his head. “I may even have another.”

  * * *

  On my way back home, I got a call from Augie.

  “Hey, how goes it?” I asked. Nothing was going to dampen my mood today.

  “You sound chipper, much better than last time,” he replied.

  “What are you, the Halsey whisperer?” I said, laughing.

  “Has my aunt filled you in on the latest, or shall I give you an update?”

  “So Marisol hears
news before I do? Remember, I’m the one who found the body!”

  “Ah, now I know I’m talking to feisty Halsey. So here’s what we’ve got: Rosa did in fact file her amended will, although Ray is contesting it. He claims that in the last couple of months before she died she’d gone back to using drugs and wasn’t thinking clearly. Even though it’s widely known that she gave all that up in her teens.”

  “Meaning Marisol told you that.”

  “Among others. Also, Musso’s girlfriend Tala? She has only a few weeks left on her visa. She’s got to leave the country by then and reapply.”

  I thought about the photos I saw of Musso and Ray talking and wondered if they were going to share the profits on the shipment that’s coming in soon. With that and his car leasing earnings, they might be going on a nice long vacation.

  “You still there?”

  “I’m here, just thinking. Remember, if Ray is contesting the will, then Inez is part of it. I told you they are partners in crime.”

  “I remember. A couple more items, we are having a devil of a time finding anything on that film production company, let alone tying it to Musso. You might have better luck doing so. As far as the ongoing investigation at the Marina involving Ray, I’m told they are making progress. All of that is being handled by the DEA, we are no longer involved and you are strictly off limits. Even if your friend Jack is still helping out. Understood?”

  I nodded.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “I understand. What about that surveillance video you were sent from an anonymous neighbor, have your guys been able to pull anything useful?” I was trying to hide my anger, I’ve just never liked being told I can’t do something.

  “They’ve had to put it aside for the moment, there was an incident at the airport that takes priority.”

  “Can you send it to me? I’ll see what I can do. And, Augie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks.”

  * * *

  When I pulled into my drive, I saw Cassie and Sally waiting outside with several bottles of wine.

  “Congratulations!” they chimed when I got out of my car.

  “What? News travels faster here than a New York rat with a slice of pizza.”

  “Jack called me, he’s so proud of you, child.” He and Sally had hit it off from the moment they met.

  “He’s a keeper.” Cassie beamed.

  “Well, come on in so I can unburden you of those heavy bottles.”

  We sat out back to watch the sunset and with the amount of wine we were consuming, I was glad that I’d been a pig and eaten that second hot dog. Although Bardot would not stop licking my hands and it was getting embarrassing.

  “I have to ask you, Cassie, I noticed when I downloaded the photos from Carl’s camera that you and Peggy had done some recon on Musso.”

  Sally squirmed until she heard which direction I was going with the photos.

  “Yes, but we got nowhere, and I had to cut it short because Peggy won’t let you eat or drink in her car. Where’s the fun in that?”

  “Actually you did get something interesting in the last set of shots.”

  “I did?”

  “You’d set the camera on ‘burst,’ so you probably didn’t even notice that you were still shooting. You got Musso on the sidewalk outside of Rosa’s house.”

  “I know, he was just standing there looking all down in the mouth.”

  “He always looks like that,” Sally said.

  “But in the last three shots it showed Ray come out of the house and the two of them talking.”

  “Wow, I didn’t see any of that. So they were in cahoots?”

  “Chips out of the same stump, sounds like.”

  Where does Sally come up with these salads of words?

  “Did you find anything else on the camera that was interesting? Carl is positively anal about me not going near it, to the point where I start to wonder.”

  I looked at Sally and she took over.

  “You might as well know, honey, we’re sure it’s probably nothing.”

  I tried to be subtle in the way I watched Cassie as Sally told her about the photo Carl had taken of the front of Rosa’s house.

  “At first glance all you see is the big picture window where she always kept a bowl of flowers on the table inside. But then we looked closer and we could see Rosa standing in the living room,” Sally explained.

  “He takes photos like that all the time,” Cassie said, almost annoyed.

  “But in this one Rosa was only wearing a bra and panties, like I said, it’s surely nothing.”

  When Sally was done, I noticed that Cassie was sitting stone still, but nodding slightly. We all have different ways of dealing with bad news and in Cassie’s case it was to turn off all human emotion.

  I poured her some more wine.

  “Listen, Cassie, if there’s one thing that I’ve learned since I moved here, it’s that nothing on Rose Avenue is at all what it seems.”

  Chapter 24

  The winter holiday season had officially started and I couldn’t help myself, I missed being home, Mom’s German cookies and Dad’s robust wine cellar. He planned all year for his cold weather sommelier selections.

  Maybe most of all, I kept thinking about New York City at this time of year, it is just so magical. I would always reserve a day to take in all the beautiful department store windows, lit up and decorated as if the designers expected Mr. DeMille to show up at any moment and film them in Technicolor. I’d, of course, end up buying something at each stop, and if I exerted enough self-control, half would be Christmas presents for others.

  As I sat in my office at the computer, I realized that I was starting to take this place and its beautiful weather for granted, much the way I had done with the wonders of New York City.

  I’d put on Joni’s Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi” and resolved to live more in the moment. Which meant getting down to work for the Coast Guard. Right after I check my emails. There was one from Augie with a video file attached.

  I’d better open a window, my resolve wants out.

  The surveillance video he sent me was indeed too grainy to make out anything but the most rudimentary shapes and shadows. This was going to take some time.

  About an hour and a half later after I’d run a number of enhancement processes and manual conversions, it was only slightly better. This was going to require higher tech software and hardware to really get a clear set of images.

  Time to call in Peggy.

  It turns out that I was right when I suspected that she was not nearly the neo-Luddite that she had pretended to be. And luckily she had a friend from the old days whose son worked in forensics at the CIA. I forwarded her the file, but kept working on it myself a bit longer. I’m stubborn that way.

  I noticed that Augie had just forwarded me the email he’d received for my “anonymous” neighbor rather than attach it to a new one. I decided to track down the IP address for the original sender. Just for shiggles. In a few simple steps I had it. I stared at the string of numbers for a couple of minutes wondering where I’d seen that sequence before.

  Finally it hit.

  These were the same numbers that came up when I ran my search on Musso’s security cameras. The video had come from Musso. Or Tala.

  So either they were both in the clear or one was trying to accuse the other.

  * * *

  Since this would be the last Wine Club before Thanksgiving, we opted for an Oaked Chardonnay with its fuller mouth feel and flavors of vanilla and spices. In this case we were pouring a Sonoma Benziger. It was held at Cassie’s, and Carl kicked things off by singing a fabulous rendition of “Autumn in New York” before leaving for drinks with the guys. This time I brought the amuse-bouche, a port-soaked pear tart with a Saga bleu cheese crust. Sweet and savory. No one has ever been kicked out of bed for that. I also couldn’t wait to tell them about my video discovery, leaving out Peggy’s role in deciphering it.

 
; “This is the lead we’ve been waiting for,” Peggy said upon hearing that the surveillance video originated from Musso’s house.

  “So that means that the murderer could be one of the people in that house, but which one?” Cassie was hoping that Sally and I would not mention Carl’s photos of Rosa.

  “Or neither,” I proposed.

  “It’s one of them, I’m sure of it,” Cassie said and I wondered what she knew that made her so positive.

  After toasts and a go around of what we were making for T-Day, we got down to business. I’d also filled everyone in on what we’d learned at the bar in the Marina.

  “We need a big calendar so that we can get all the dates straight, there are some key milestones coming up,” ever-practical Peggy said.

  “There’s one in Carl’s office,” Cassie said while setting down a tray of sage butter fried pumpkin ravioli. “But I never go in there it’s icky.”

  “I’ll get it,” I said reluctantly. I was the closest but it was hard to resist not grabbing a few of these savory pillows to take with me. But if I knew Cassie, she had plenty more.

  Carl’s office was a typical man cave. It had a flat screen mounted TV on the wall, a vintage pinball machine in one corner, and a neon Bud sign over a small bar. Taking up the least amount of space was his desk, computer, and chair. It clearly looked like Cassie had banished these items to this one room as a trade-off if Carl wanted to keep them. There was a stuffed Jackalope, typical Carl humor, that sat on a large cloth. I’m guessing that the fabric is used to cover up the mythical monster whenever Cassie enters into the room.

  Nowhere did I see a large calendar. I was about to give up when I spotted a couple of boxes sitting atop a grid. No wonder I was having trouble. I lifted one box up and the lid popped off revealing a ream of letters printed with Carl’s hardware store logo. When I looked more closely (he shouldn’t have left them out if he didn’t want anyone reading them), I saw a short paragraph of text followed by a photo of a house. I saw that this one had Rosa’s place pictured on the letter. It read:

  Dear Homeowner,