by Thomas Lewis
I ran a tail-elimination pattern back towards my place, trying to ignore the fact that if the bad guys knew I was involved, my place might be the first place they’d look. And I didn’t trust the Hollywood Division guys to not be in someone’s pocket surrounding this. Thinking more clearly for a change, I considered stashing Kate in a motel, instead, and changed course.
Wait. What’s this?
Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone might not be following you. My tail-killer skills might be a bit rusty. A dark sedan seemed to be following a curiously identical route.
I pulled over and moved the car seat back all the way, my right hand going instinctively under my coat to the shoulder holster.
“Do me a favor and duck down, Kate.”
“Wha … why …”
“Just duck down, far as you can. I got this.”
She complied. I fogged the driver side window the best I could with my breath. The sedan rolled past as I leaned behind the door pillar, hat pulled down. I breathed a bit easier. But just a bit. All I could make out, two shadowy figures, one looking right at us.
I made a U-turn. Soon, there they were again in the mirror. I couldn’t seem to shake them here on residential streets. If they pulled alongside, I could possibly outrun them; the V8 in this DeSoto Deluxe is pretty impressive, especially after some expert tinkering. But they were following at a distance.
OK, I’ll play. We hatched a plan where I would drop Kate back off at her house, go inside with her and ‘make sure things were OK’, then I’d leave through the front, visibly, and drive off.
This was all for show. Kate and I were creating a false reality. As I walked back to the car, Kate, in a change of wardrobe, was already zipping through the alley to the other side of the block. I avoided looking at the dark sedan lurking in my peripheral vision, jumped in the DeSoto, and pulled around the block to pick her back up, assuming I’d only pick her up if the goons hadn’t followed me.
We figured if they didn’t follow, this meant they were stalking Kate, and if they were, the reason why might be ominous. What I didn’t tell Kate was the second half of the plan.
I rounded two corners, went the length of the block, made a U-turn and pulled to the curb. No goons in any direction yet, I reached over and opened the passenger door.
“All aboard.”
A shadowy lithe figure in a hat and raincoat emerged from the bushes. In she jumped, seemingly enthusiastic about our dangerous little plan. She looked up at me from under the hat and smiled, like a kid playing ‘spy’. This made me grin.
With Kate safely back in the front seat, we circled back around and began surveilling them, the dark sedan that’d followed us and was now waiting outside her duplex. Table’s turned, fucknuts!
We hid in plain sight, parking half a block behind them, on the other side and out of mirror angle, and I convinced Kate this is the last place they’d look for her.
“Now what?”
“Now we wait for it to get dark.”
We both fell quiet as I continued weighing strategies. No longer ponytailed, Kate removed the hat and shook out her blonde locks. Wow.
After a bit, I jumped out of the DeSoto and began removing my jacket, tie, and hat. Oh, and the shoulder holster.
“What are you …”
“I need a closer look. Stay right here.”
I put on the fake glasses, pushed my hair back, rolled up my sleeves and hiked my trousers way up, which made Kate giggle. I just smiled.
“Lock the doors.”
I circled around and waddled up to the sedan as wide-eyed and naively as I could muster, waving goofily at our new twin goons, as if I was just any pedestrian, my .38 tucked behind me in my waistband. As I leaned in,
“Hi! You boys know where Wilshire Boulevard might be?” arms behind me politely, one hand on the .38.
They looked at each other, then back at me as if I were an idiot.
“Back a block that way, goofy,” thumb pointing. “It might be there.”
“How’d he miss it?” the driver muttered, shaking his head.
“Thanks, so much, fellas. Tell me, have you boys allowed Christ to enter your lives?”
The response to this was a quickly rolled-up window. I gave a hurt look, and kept walking. Back in the DeSoto,
“What was that all about?”
“Reconnaissance. Both are wearing shoulder holsters,” as I held mine up briefly before strapping it back on.
“… Wasn’t this sort of risky?”
“… Yes.”
◆◆◆
It was now about two. By Thanksgiving Day in LA, the sun begins to set early, about a quarter of five. This gave Kate and me some time to have a nice chat. I began asking a lot of ‘detective’ questions about her life and her career path, hoping to learn something about her that might spark understanding of why she’s a target and why Elle had been apparently abducted. Was there a connection there? None jumped out. Yet there must be one.
But we also felt comfortable in conversing the way friends typically do. I became ever more impressed with her as we spoke. She has an interesting outlook on family and relationships, and she’s whip-smart. Tough to keep up with.
I even confided in her regarding some of my Parker issues, and she said a couple things that got me thinking straighter about all of this. But we were also both starving; neither of us had eaten much at all that day.
“You got any beef jerky stashed away in here? Maybe an old packet of ketchup?” she teased, checking the glove.
Hmmm. Wry sense of humor to boot. And … was she getting cuter by the minute? It seemed so. Beef jerky was beginning to sound good. Ketchup in packets. Somebody should come up with that.
“What’s this?” eyes widening. She’d found my sap.
‘It’s … like a blackjack … please, put that down … you don’t want to know.” I closed the glove and tried to change the subject.
“We’ve got some time. I don’t expect the Einstein twins up here to make a move until it gets dark.”
Of course this made little sense; their predecessors thought broad daylight was just fine. But hunger was gnawing at both of us.
“I know a nice diner not too far,” I offered.
I’d also lied. A diner, yes. Not exactly ‘nice’.
“I’ll treat you to a cup of the city’s best chili,” as a vision of a steaming bowl crowded it’s way into my thoughts.
“It’s probably closed. It’s Thanksgiving Day.”
Damn. She’s right. The vision promptly evaporated. My ex-Navy buddy Hymie closes the diner for every holiday, including all 36 Jewish holidays. Not sure how he stays in business. Must be the chili. Now I hated Thanksgiving even more and expressed this under my breath.
“Oh! Come with me. I’m invited to a Thanksgiving dinner at Professor Thorne’s house, and I can bring a guest. It was going to be Elle, but …”
Kate turned away as her voice broke. Then she turned to me and put on a brave smile, but I knew, and she could see that in my eyes. Completely out of character, I took her hand in both my hands, my warmth transferring to her.
“Kate, we’re gonna find her. We won’t stop looking. It’s gonna be all right.”
Almost in tears, she nodded quickly.
“It’s just that … she’s my best friend. I love her so much, I …”
“We’ll find her. We’ll fix this. All of it.”
Kate let out a little sigh.
“You think you could bring a ruffled ex-cop to Thanksgiving dinner? I have a helluva n’appetite.”
That made her laugh.
“I’d be delighted to be your guest, Kate.”
“OK. Let’s go. We’ll have fun.”
“We need fun. And food. Odds are these jokers will wait here for us.”
She was settling. What a terrific girl. Suddenly, I missed Parker all the more.
“Dinner’s early, a quarter to three, so we’re not late, and it’s close by.”
&nbs
p; I put the DeSoto in gear, and off we went.
“You were a cop?”
“Long time ago.”
PART FIVE
I’m Hoping The Dodgers’ll Move Out Here Some Day
I’d heard of Howard Thorne; he’s a big hoo-hah over at UCLA and has been written up a lot. I think. Never in the sports pages or the racing forms, so I’m pretty sure I never read about him.
“Howard’s pretty cool. He’s working on something with me. You’ll like him. This will be fun. They’ll love you!”
No, they won’t, but OK, I reasoned, finally a convenient use of Thanksgiving. I still had a nice bottle of red in the trunk, so we went. And, surprise, and knock me over with a feather, we had a really wonderful time, almost forgetting completely that our lives were in danger.
The Thorne’s were the most gracious hosts imaginable, and their family is terrific. Very ‘huggy’. Their kids are all grown, but all accomplished, smart, and they were just as welcoming. It was so great. They treated Kate like one of their own, which had her beaming. It was good to finally see her have something to smile about.
I was a bit of a duck out of water, but Kate and the Thorne’s made me feel fully accepted, and completely welcome. I apologized for our casual attire and briefly explained why, but they were quite understanding, as well as concerned about Elle.
They were like a real family. I guess they are a real family, but they treated Kate like a daughter and me like, well, not like a ragtag ex-cop she’d adopted just this morning. They’re amazing.
People will accept an invited guest with an unknown guest in their living room. Parlor. Dining room. The Thornes are much more open, and brought me right into the kitchen to meet Mrs. Thorne.
Howard, in his deep baritone, “We invited Davis Waldheim, Kate. He’s single, but he had some family thing, so …”
Mrs. Thorne was shaking her head as she prepared the cranberry sauce.
“Too old for Katy. Too oily.”
Howard smiled, a bit exasperated,
“That’s not why we invited him, Ally. Of course he’s too old.”
Under her breath, “… and too oily … needs someone more like …” nodding discreetly at me.
Waldheim. I’d heard the name. Some rich tycoon, I think. Society pages regularly run photos of him with interchangeable chippies on his arm. Due to recent events in my life, my naive outlook is that the rich and powerful might also all be inherently evil, that they get where they get on the backs of everyone else, so I have a knee-jerk negative reaction to all the Waldheims of the world, which is of course, not at all fair.
“I’m not sure he’s the right investor for us, Howard.”
“Maybe not. His money’s the right color. You weren’t much impressed with Waldheim, were you Katy?”
“Mmm, let’s work on some other folks some more.”
“No more shop talk, please! It’s Thanksgiving.”
Mrs. Thorne had ruled.
I made sure to not elucidate the events from earlier this morning, or explain the grave circumstances Kate and I may be facing, of course. It was Thanksgiving dinner. No place for that. Mrs. Thorne was right. No shop talk.
Shortly after the feast and before Mrs. Thorne could whip cream for the pumpkin pie, Thorne’s youngest noticed me admiring some of the artwork and leveraged me into a mini-tour of the place. They’re not rich, but about as well off as a prestigious university prof could be, so not exactly starving, either.
“Oh. You guys have one of those television sets. This screen’s huge.”
“Sixteen inches, I think. Not much on it that’s any good. Kinda fuzzy. Dad had a ten-inch TV with a round screen until this year. It lasted a year and pooped out.”
I nodded. “TV?”
“Yeah, they call them ’TVs’ for short, now. Dumont has one with a twenty-inch tube in it, came out last year.”
“Wow. All the bars have these televisions now. I saw part of the World Series last month. Yankees-Dodgers. That was pretty good.”
“Boy, New York has three teams, we don’t even have one.”
“Oh, I know. I’m hoping the Dodgers’ll move out here someday.”
Smiling, “Yeah, I don’t think I’d hold my breath for this, Mr. Daniel.”
“Yeah. Never happen. We’ll have televisions big enough to hang on a wall first.“
“I dunno. Even this little guy weighs close to 200 pounds.”
“Call me Jack, please, Kevin. All my friends …”
As we entered their ‘billiard room’,
“Wow. No pockets on this baby.”
“Yeah, Pop’s totally into the game … has been forever. As a kid, I always begged him to get a real pool table.”
Made me chuckle … I could relate.
“But this is his pride and joy.”
“I never understood …”
“Hmm. Me, neither. He and I play, but I’m hardly a match; I don’t seem to have the wherewithal to really understand billiards the way he does. It's a pretty inscrutable game. Personally, I like a little denouement. I like the sound of the ball falling into a pocket.”
This made me smile. I think I like this kid.
“I’m hip. I’m a Rotation guy, myself.”
“Great game. We should play. My brothers and I like ‘Chicago’, ‘14-1 Straight’, but we have to go to a pool hall to play that, you see.”
I nodded. This thing was huge, and about as green as green ever gets.
“You’re ‘hip’?”
I shrugged, “It’s somethin’ this colored guy Lester used to say back when I was in the Navy. He’s a real character.”
Kevin smiled, but then he seemed to get serious.
“Is Katy gonna be OK?”
I weighed my answer.
“She wouldn’t have got hooked up with a private investigator like you unless there was some sort of real trouble. Am I right am I wrong? Sorry, I guess she knows you …”
“Only met her this morning, Kevin. My gut says Kate’s going to be just fine. If I can keep her safe through this, that is, which is my first priority right now. Her roommate’s the one I’m more worried about.”
“Elle … oh, she’s the one gone missing.”
“You know her, too?”
“We all sort of grew up together back in Indianapolis. The reason Kate picked UCLA is Dad finagled her a full ride once we moved out here. Not that she needed his help; she’s the smartest person I’ve ever known.”
“Knowing your dad, that no doubt means something. Seems like a great girl. She’s about your age. Kevin and Kate. You two ever, uh …?”
Quickly, “Naaah, she’s a couple years older. I think she’s got someone.”
“Mmm, she told me she doesn’t, but if so, lucky dude. She’s pretty sweet. Seems to be a real keeper.”
“Well, full disclosure, I sort of had a thing for her back in Junior High, I guess. But our families were close and she was too much my friend, you know, to go there.”
“I get it. Beginning to feel this myself.”
“But she’s pretty wonderful, even if she feels like a sister.”
I chuckled at this.
“You’ve perhaps got someone on her level.”
My hesitation sort of told the story.
