by Jean Martino
Squeezing the now empty beer can into a flat piece of metal, he tossed it into the nearby garbage can before heading back to the camping ground. His eyes were ever alert as he walked down the beaten sand path, taking in everything around him, even the movement of wind blown bushes. He was aware of every small sound; his reflexes had never slowed down despite his being retired now. He knew that one day one of those creeps he’d had put behind bars would be paroled and come looking for vengeance. It was the legacy he would forever carry with him for having been a cop; something he could never be free of. His right hand brushed casually against his right hip and he could feel the 9 millimeter Smith and Wesson semi-automatic in his hip holster covered by his sweatshirt. He disliked having to carry it with him but Max had warned him last time they talked to keep it handy.
“He’s getting out next week,” Max had informed him, not using any names. They both knew who he was referring to having followed the appeals court activities for the last year and knowing the man would get out on a technicality. “My sources tell me he’s vowed to come after you. So stay alert, buddy.”
The camping ground was starting to fill up now with weekend campers and tomorrow the beach would be inundated with children and sunbathers, the ocean taken over by wind surfers. He’d had a good three days of peace and quiet and now was time to head off and leave it all for the young ones.
The camp lights washed over the white metal exterior of his thirty foot long RV, parked next to his blue and white one ton truck with two sets of tires on the back where the RV would be attached tomorrow morning before he headed off home. Unlocking the side door, he stepped inside, tossing his keys on the table near the queen size bed at one end, separated from the full bathroom at the other end by a compact little sitting room with pull out beds, a kitchen with built in appliances and a booth dining table. Tent camping was not for him; he wanted all the modern conveniences when he went on fishing trips, including air conditioning and built in stereo system.
Everything he wanted or needed was right here in his RV and one day he planned to spend a year driving around the States in it. The only thing missing was his computer. Lately he was beginning to think he should buy himself a laptop to take with him, so he could talk to Linda on it when he got lonely for her; something which seemed to be happening more often than he had believed possible.
Turning on the TV to get the late news, he wandered around the RV tidying up as he listened to the news reader reporting on the war in Iraq. He didn’t like it. He had not approved of it. But he supported the troops one hundred percent, his heart going out to the young soldiers being sent over to that hell hole to fight someone else’s war. The nine-eleven tragedy had made him, like all Americans, acutely aware of their vulnerability to terrorist attacks, and their need to protect their country, but this Iraq war didn’t settle well with him for some reason. Despite his feelings of patriotism, he still was grateful 32 year old Dan had found his niche in computer science rather than joining the military or becoming a police officer. He just prayed the war would be over before Maggie’s teenage sons got caught up in it.
Whipping off his sweatshirt, he removed his gun, unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, removing the holster, then placing both the gun and holster in the beside table drawer, on top of the leather case containing his police badge and identification, including the CCW permit, that allowed him to carry a concealed weapon. Being a police officer did not end on retirement. He still had the authority to arrest anyone who was breaking the law if no other active police officer was present and he felt there was danger to the community or himself. He could still work as a detective and he still had the right to carry a concealed weapon for his own protection.
He sat down and pulled off his sneakers, trying to remember if there had ever been a time during his life when there hadn’t been a war somewhere that Americans hadn’t become involved in. His face tightened thinking that one day his newest little grandson might get caught up in some war in some distant place too. He had been at the hospital the moment eighteen month old Mark was born and he wanted to see him grow up to become a man and have his own sons and daughters one day.
Tossing the sneakers aside, he leaned back in the lounge chair, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he remembered the look on Dan’s face when he had walked down the hospital corridor that day to tell him of Mark’s birth. As long as he lived he would never forget that special moment when his son had become a father. Dan looked just like he probably had when his first child, Maggie, was born; like a little kid who had just woken up Christmas morning and found the most incredible gift under the tree. He had stood up and hugged him and together they had walked down the corridor to view his new grandson; his third now; Maggie’s two teenage sons and now this one. He looked forward to watching him grow up. His life was blessed.
Leaning forward in the chair, he picked up the remote and turned off the TV, his thoughts returning to Linda. How could he miss her so much when they’d never even met in real life? It was a total mystery to him, but he knew that somehow she had become a very important part of his life now. Lately he had been wondering if it was time they did meet. His lips tightened, knowing that to do so would only complicate both their lives and at this time in his life, when everything was finally starting to straighten out for him, that didn’t seem like a wise option for him, or her. As intense as their relationship had become over the last few months, the fact was they still had their lives and homes on separate sides of the world. There was too much at stake. And the wound hadn’t quite healed yet from his divorce from Jennifer, despite it being eleven years now. Perhaps it never would. He could handle most things life tossed at him, but losing the home he had worked his guts out on for his family had ripped the heart out of him.
He shook his head and stood up. All that was history now. He had moved on and had his life all sorted out again.
When his cell phone rang he grabbed it quickly off the nearby table.
“Hey Dad!” said Dan. “Sorry I couldn’t call earlier. Some friends stopped by and couldn’t get rid of them till now.”
“Not a problem, son,” said Scott. “How’s Jocelyn and Mark?”
“Mark’s fine. He’s sleeping right now, thank God. Had trouble settling him down tonight. And Jocelyn is sacked out already also. She loves her new job at the Child Care Center. Gets to use her nursing experience and still be with Mark every day.”
Scott knew Jocelyn wouldn’t return full time to nursing until Mark was in school. That was something he approved of. He believed strongly in the family unit. “That’s great, son. Jocelyn’s a good mother. So how’d it go on the changes to that computer program?”
“Everything’s finished. I’ll send it to you as an email attachment with instructions how to download it to that investigative program you already have. It’ll be in your internet mailbox when you get home to Sacro. Hey, how’s the internet romance going with your friend in Australia?”
Scott burst out laughing. Dan had talked him into going into the love at AOL website when he’d first set up his desk computer for him at his home a year ago. “We’re just friends,” he said. “No romance.”
“Oh sure,” said Dan. “And that’s why you’re always on that internet video screen talking to her whenever I’m trying to call you eh?”
“You’re just guessing now,” said Scott. “I could be working you know. Anyway, that reminds me, next time I’m down in your neck of the woods I want to pick up a laptop. Got any lying around in that electronically equipped garage of yours?” He suppressed a chuckle. He always found it amusing that Dan worked out of his garage, hooked up by computer to that computer company he worked for in the San Fernando Valley. It didn’t feel like a real job to Scott, but that was a sign of the times that he had finally accepted.
“A few,” said Dan. “I’ll find one for you. When are you coming down to LA again?”
“Soon,” said Scott. “I’ve picked up a little red wagon for Mark, like th
e one you had as a kid. I’ll have it shipped down soon as I get back to Sacro.”
They continued their small talk for a few more minutes then Scott hung up. Inserting a CD in the stereo system, he took off the rest of his clothes, tossed them on the chair, then headed for the bathroom to shower. He had to stop thinking of Linda so much, it was starting to interfere with his ability to think rationally, and he needed a clear head to work on those cases the law firm had dumped on him last week. He refused to give any more thought to that jerk Max had warned him about. If that son of a bitch came gunning for him he would soon find himself looking down the barrel of his Smith and Wesson.
The haunting cello strains of Michael Hoppe’s music filled the RV as, refreshed from his shower, he collapsed on the bed and reached for the book he’d been intending to read over the last three days but not even opened yet. Bunching the pillows up behind his head he opened the book and started to read. But after only a few pages he let it drop onto his chest and closed his eyes, thinking of Dan’s remark about his “internet romance” that had stuck in his mind.
It wasn’t really a romance; or was it? His feelings for Linda were beginning to confuse him. She had somehow crept into his life through their internet relationship and now he couldn’t stop thinking about her or wanting to click onto the internet to be with her. He wondered if she felt the same way about him. But what if one day one of them met someone in real life and wanted to break that connection? She was a good looking woman, intelligent, smart, down to earth, and sexy. It wouldn’t be difficult for her to find a real life man who could make her happy. The thought gave him a downer.
It had been Dan urging him to “check out the babes looking for men in that love at AOL website,” that had got him curious in the first place. He remembered the surprise he had got when he had first clicked the love website on. It had felt like he had entered a whole new world; a world where men and women were flying around in cyberspace trying to connect with each other.
At first he had thought the Personals, as he learned they called the detailed information each member had written about themselves, were aptly named. Reading between the lines he could feel the loneliness tinged with subtle pleading that whoever read their information would want to be with them. Some of them did indeed give more personal information than he believed was necessary, and he wondered if all they said about themselves was true or just written to bait the line and hook someone into writing to them. The more confident ones attached photos, which he also studied clinically, trying to decide if they were old photos, new photos, or perhaps touched up a bit to make them look more pleasing. But as he continued to skip around and read them he found himself becoming fascinated at this new concept of looking for partners.
Perhaps there was more to this phenomenon than he had thought. Meeting women in bars, as he had the times he had met his police buddies for drinks, had not been his style. The aggressiveness of some of them had turned him off, but even so he had tried to be open-minded to the new type of liberated women out there, knowing that after having been a married man for twenty five years he had plenty to learn. Even the women his friends had tried to hook him up with had not been shy in letting him know what they wanted and expected. It was a whole new ball game to him, and the last thing he wanted to appear to be was a male chauvinist, which he didn’t think he was but at times his attempts at chivalry had been mistaken for that. It hadn’t taken him long to learn that a first date was fine, but a second or third seemed to give the impression that he was ready to have a net thrown over him, and that he didn’t want or need.
He’d been about to log off that night and forget it when he saw the “New Personals” button, and clicked it on, filled in the details of age requested from 45 to 55 then hit the button. They were from women all over the world and he skipped around them not seeing anyone who interested him. He burst out laughing at the absurdity of it. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t need this. He was getting too involved in it. Time to log off. But before he did, he saw the new Personal from a woman in Australia, parked his cursor on that line and clicked it on. One more wouldn’t hurt, he decided, and he’d always wanted to visit Australia but never gotten around to it.
When the Personal opened for Aussiewoman, he stared for a long time at the photo, feeling drawn to her smiling face. She had a natural look about her, not all made up and glamorized like some of the other women in their attached photos. She had nice high cheek bones, a cute little nose, soft looking blond hair framing her oval face and a sweet smile. She was definitely a cutie, he thought with a grin, continuing to read her Personal with interest.
He read it as though he was doing a profile on her, a force of habit he had carried with him from his police work. Skipping all the superfluous words, he noted in his mind; forty eight; widowed; Australian born; had lived in Southern California for twenty eight years; one child, a daughter, still living there with her husband in Newport Beach; was now living back in Australia; enjoyed bike riding and walking, the beach, the outdoors, reading; looking for a casual pen pal relationship only.
A daughter and son-in-law living in Newport Beach, he thought with amusement, wondering if they lived anywhere near Dan and Jocelyn. He returned to her photo and felt something urging him to contact her. Then, without thinking anymore, he hit the write email button and whipped off an email telling her briefly about himself; attaching his retirement photo that Dan had scanned onto a floppy disk for him. “Just in case you change your mind,” Dan had laughed, “and find some woman to send it to.” Then he had logged off, feeling a bit foolish and not expecting any reply. She would probably be flooded with men wanting to write to her so why should she be interested in a man like him?
* *
He got off the bed and wandered around, feeling unusually restless and not understanding why. His cell phone was lying on the table and he reached to pick it up. Perhaps he should call Linda and just say hi, he thought, starting to dial her number. Then he stopped and snapped the phone shut. She’d be busy with Cindy right now and he didn’t want to disturb her. He’d touch with her on the internet Sunday morning his time. No sense in disturbing her now.
CHAPTER 2
The rain had eased to a sprinkle as Linda drove out of the airport with Jessica alongside her. In fifteen minutes she had reached the freeway that would take her up into the hills area. Jessica had gone quiet, as if sensing her sister’s need to think without interruption and Linda’s eyes were glued on the road ahead; her mind totally focused on Cindy. She kept replaying every telephone conversation she had had with Cindy over the last few months, and every email she had received from her. But nothing in them gave her any clue as to why Cindy had not taken that flight from Los Angeles or why she could not now reach her.
A watery sun was trying to break through the clouds as Linda stopped her car outside Jessica and Bill’s sprawling ranch style house that was just three houses down the street from her own little bungalow home. Inside the house Linda collapsed at the kitchen table where Bill had the kettle going and was preparing some sandwiches. “I remembered you hadn’t even had lunch yet,” he said.
“Go ahead!” Jessica called back, disappearing into the laundry room to hang Linda’s wet clothes. “I’ll be with you in a second.”
“That Investment Company Michael works for,” said Bill, pouring steaming hot water into the china tea pot, “what do you know about it?”
“McLean’s Investments? All I really know is what Cindy told me,” said Linda. “Michael’s worked there for five years now, since graduating from UCLA with his degree in business management and computer technology. She said they were in strong competition with Merrill Lynch and that the major shareholder, Roger McLean, had put Michael in charge of some very important clients. As you know, Michael is also handling the mutual funds account I opened with them three years ago.” She stopped and stared at Bill, her brow creasing. “Oh God! Do you think something happened at his work and that’s why he had to leave so sudden
ly?"
“You’re grabbing at straws now, Linda,” Jessica said sternly, returning to join them. “Whatever has happened I’m sure his boss will explain it to you Monday when you call.”
“And will he be able to explain why my daughter hasn’t contacted me and I can’t contact them?” asked Linda angrily.
Bill passed her the milk and sugar, glancing out the window as the rain started up again. His work in the city as a CPA kept him indoors too much, his skin pale from lack of sun, except on the weekends when he was continually working in his garden. He had set it all up for a barbecue the next day so their children and grandchildren could join the family in welcoming their American cousin to Australia.
