After dinner we went for a walk up Broadway. It was getting dark but the night was warm.

  “When are you going to take a trip to Las Vegas with me?” she said as we walked holding hands.

  She was a masseuse who was contracted to three hotels. She was in demand.

  “When you’re not there to work,” I replied.

  “Then we need to plan a trip,” she said.

  “If you go there for work three times a week,” I said, “why would you want to go back on your day off?”

  “Because when I’m there for work I don’t get to go out and experience Las Vegas the way I can with my sweetie,” she said with a little squeeze of my hand.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Besides,” she said. “We could have dinner with Sandi and Chris Nathan.”

  Sandi and Chris weren’t married but most people used his whole name when talking about him.

  “You and Sandi are pretty tight, huh?”

  “She’s actually turned out to be a close friend,” she said. “She’s the only one I see when I’m out there.”

  We walked past the Wells Fargo on 14th and the street lights came on as darkness settled.

  “Besides,” she said. “Chris is one of your best friends,”

  “Is my best friend,” I interrupted her.

  “Okay, is your best friend,” she said. “Yet you only see each other when you help each other with cases.”

  “We don’t need to be around each other constantly to know we can trust each other,” I said.

  “And because you can trust each other that makes you best friends?”

  “It helps.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I.”

  She lightly hit me on the arm. Then stopped and looked up at me. I looked at her and she tilted her head up and I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

  “Do you love me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Good,” she said.

  “Do you love me?” I asked.

  “If you were secure you wouldn’t have to ask,” she said with a smile.

  5

  The next morning I was at Ruth Addems’ house in Black Hawk. It was about an hour away from Oakland and it took another twenty minutes to actually get to Ruth’s house once I got past the guard shack that looked more like a small bungalow on a beach in Hawaii. The uniformed guard looked as if he didn’t want to let me in but my name was on the list.

  All the houses in Black Hawk looked alike. Sand colored stucco, some had stone siding and others had wood trim. Lawns were green and sidewalks were spotless. It was where Ward and June Cleaver would have lived if they were still around. Ruth’s house was huge and I could probably fit two of my house in the lot.

  “So show me the house,” I said when Ruth opened the door for me.

  “You’re all business,” she said.

  “This is serious business,” I said.

  The house was big on the inside as well as the outside. There was a long hall and rooms off on either side. There was a library, a sitting room and what looked to be a room made for the huge bar that was on the far wall. The kitchen was in the back of the house and there was a table next to a glass wall that housed a sliding door and a view of a golf course.

  “Do you play?” I asked referring to the course.

  “Of course not,” she said. “Boring game.”

  I nodded.

  “Where did the stalker get in?” I asked.

  “There was a window broken in the garage.”

  “May I see it?”

  “I told you it’s been repaired.”

  “I’d still like to see it.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know what I’ll learn until I see,” I said.

  She led me to the garage and when we were inside pointed to a small window on the side door above the lock and handle.

  “Alarm?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Did it go off?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “How am I supposed to know?”

  “Because this is your house,” I said.

  “Will takes care of those things for me,” she said.

  “I take it Will lives here?” I said.

  “Yes, he has a room upstairs.”

  I nodded and asked, “Is he here now?”

  “He’s somewhere,” she said nonchalantly.

  The rest of the house was over furnished with items that made it look crowded. I kept my opinion to myself.

  “This your primary home?” I asked.

  “When I’m not filming, which isn’t often, but when I am I have a house in Malibu.”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll need to speak with Will,” I said. “See if he has a hypothesis.”

  “Hypothesis,” she repeated. “You’re articulate for a P.I.”

  “Private Investigator,” I corrected. “And I even eat with a knife and fork.”

  “Touchy.”

  “Where is Will?”

  She pulled out a cell phone and began texting then hit a button and put it back in her sweater pocket. A minute later Will came into the kitchen where Ruth had taken me after we left the garage.

  “Whadda’ya want?” he asked me.

  “Why didn’t the alarm go off when the window in the garage was broken?” I asked him.

  “Window’s not hooked to the system,” he said. “Just the main windows and doors of the house.”

  “Who’s idea was that?” I asked.

  “It didn’t need to be hooked in,” he said.

  “Hello,” I said, “someone broke in through that very window. Still think it didn’t need to be hooked in?”

  “Isn’t it your job to think about that stuff?” he said.

  “You know what,” I said, “you’re right. Why don’t you go and oil yourself down, I’ll take care of this.”

  He tensed up and walked towards me. I think I was supposed to back away or at the very least shake in terror. I did neither but I was really hoping he wouldn’t flex his pecks at me. We were standing about three inches apart and he stood about four inches taller than me. I had to look up.

  “You think you’re funny,” he said through clenched teeth that I think were capped.

  “And you think you’re tough,” I said. “You’re used to people being intimidated by your size but the fact is I’m not. So I’m guessing right about now you’re trying to figure out what to do next because you’ve probably never had a real fight in your life. Whereas I have been fighting most of my life and it’s a part of my job.”

  He took three deep breaths and walked away.

  Ruth looked amused. I wasn’t.

  6

  Ruth and I were back in her kitchen. The sun was coming in through the twelve foot widows that made up the East wall of the house and gave the view of the golf course and the mountains.

  “So tell me about yourself,” I said as I sat at the kitchen table drinking a bottle of water.

  “Why do you want to know about me?” she asked.

  “Because I don’t know,” I said.

  “And knowing is better than not knowing,” she said.

  “You catch on fast,” I said.

  “I grew up in Denver,” she said. “Small town, raised by my dad.”

  “Where was your mother?”

  “She died when I was a little girl.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I have good memories of her.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Really?” she said looking perplexed by the question.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Well, I remember coming home from school and she would always have cookies,” she said looking at the bottle of water she held in her hands as if it were a crystal ball that was taking her back in time.

  “She baked?” I asked.

  “Oh heavens no,” she said with a small laugh. “Oreos we
re her specialty. But we would sit and I would tell her about my day. We were very close.”

  “How old were you when she passed away?”

  “It was a week before my eighth birthday.”

  “How did your father handle it?”

  “He didn’t.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He began drinking heavily and never stopped.”

  “How did that affect you?”

  “I came out to California to live with my mom’s sister, Beth, in Los Angeles,” she said with a small shrug of her shoulders as if it were the normal thing to do.

  “You still stay in contact with Beth?” I asked.

  “She passed away last year.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s life,” she said with a small shrug.

  “Is your father still alive?” I asked.

  “I suppose.”

  “That mean you don’t talk to him much?”

  “It means we don’t talk at all.”

  “So Will is all you have as far as family,” I said.

  “Yes,” she said as if it had never occurred to her. “I suppose he is.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  I had no idea where the conversation was going only that she had started opening up and I wanted to keep it going.

  “When I got cast for the show I needed a personal trainer and the studio recommended him,” she said.

  “Guess you two hit it off pretty good,” I said with a smile.

  “Yes,” she smiled. “He’s not a bad guy once you get to know him.”

  I nodded encouragingly.

  I made a mental note that the studio would have information on Will. He was affiliated with the studio so I at least had another lead to find out about him. It was something.

  “So how’d you get into acting?” I asked.

  “School plays,” she said. “Got the bug early.”

  “Land a lot of leads?”

  “No,” she said with a smile as memories seemed to come back.

  “Mostly background stuff,” she said. “But I loved it.”

  I drank some water.

  “How did you land the show?” I asked.

  “Did a few commercials,” she said. “My agent heard about a casting call and I auditioned. They liked me and I haven’t looked back since.”

  “The overnight success,” I said.

  “Only took ten years,” she said with a laugh.

  “So you still have a love for it,” I said.

  “Of course,” she said. “If I didn’t I would stop.”

  I nodded and drank more water.

  She told me about the long hours and the promotional things she did for the show. I sounded like a lot of work to me but clearly she enjoyed it and I figured that was what really mattered.

  We finished our water and I told her I’d be in contact with her. I let myself out and headed home.

  7

  When I got back to my office I called Lieutenant Marv Seville of the Danville Police Department and see if he could give me any help with Will before I went to the studio. After a couple of transfers I finally got to him.

  “Whaddaya need?” he said into the phone after I told him who I was and that I knew Sam.

  “I need to do a background check on a friend of Ruth Addems, her personal trainer, guy named Will, but I don’t know his last name.”

  “Hold on,” he said and I heard him typing.

  While I waited I put my feet up on my desk and looked out the window. The sky was clear and blue and I wanted to be at a ballgame.

  “Leismuller,” I heard Marv say. “William Leismuller. Austrian born but father was German.”

  “You come across a criminal record for Will Leismuller?”

  “Nope. Guy was clean. Came to this country in ’02 at the age of twenty, was already a body builder. Got a job in a studio in L.A. and tried unsuccessfully to get into action movies. Did a background check on him when we did the report on the break in. Standard stuff.”

  “Guess he figured if Arnold could do it why couldn’t he,” I interrupted.

  “That would be my guess,” he said. “Ended up trainer to the stars and seven years later hooked up with Ruth Addems.”

  I did a quick calculation in my head and determined Will was about thirty-one years old.

  “You know anything about Ruth’s father? Lived in Denver.”

  “Not yet,” he said. “But I will in a day or so.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “You owe me lunch,” he said. “The wife has me on a budget but I figure if you buy it shouldn’t affect my finances.”

  “You may be right.” I said.

  “Gimme your cell number,” he said.

  I told him.

  “I’ll get back to you when I have something,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said then hung up.

  I looked around my office at the half painted walls. I knew I should finish painting but I also knew I wouldn’t do it that day.

  8

  “You think Will had something to do with the break in?” Ashley asked me while we walked across the street from Lake Merritt.

  The sun was out and the temperature was in the low seventies. Lake Merritt was located next to downtown Oakland, since it was a weekday downtown was busy but the lake wasn’t crowded like it would be on the weekends.

  “I don’t know, but it seemed a little odd that he wasn’t concerned about it,” I said.

  A guy jogging towards us turned his head to check Ashley out as he passed. I was getting used to it and didn’t react.

  “You’re getting better,” she said still looking forward.

  I smiled triumphantly.

  We made our way down to 14th Ave and from there back over to Broadway. There used to be a twenty-four hour newsstand/book store there called DeLars but it had been closed for years. The space was vacant and I still missed it.

  As we waited for the light on 14th and Broadway I saw a black Porsche at the next corner. Will was behind the wheel. He was parked in front of a bus stop and a guy wearing sagging Roca Wear jeans and a black leather jacket was leaning in the passenger window talking to him. The guy stood up and Will pulled off and drove up Broadway. It seemed ol’ Will had ties to the hood.

  Ashley and I made our way up Broadway and walked seven blocks to 21st Street to a place called Uptown Café & Crepes. It was owned by a guy named Chuck. He also owned the place next door called IB’s. Chuck was thin, clean shaved with salt and pepper hair and a warm smile.

  “Hi, Rey,” he said as we walked in.

  “Hi, Chuck,” I said. “This is Ashley Garret.”

  They shook hands and Chuck said, “How did you end up with this guy?”

  “I picked him up in a grocery store,” she replied with a smile.

  Chuck laughed.

  “Lucky him,” he said. “But seriously, Rey’s a good guy.”

  “I like him,” she said.

  “What can I get for you two?” he asked.

  I ordered a Chipotle Chicken Pannini and Ashley ordered a Greek salad and we both ordered Snapples. I knew she would eat off my plate the way she always did.

  “You’re coming in right before the lunch crowd,” Chuck said.

  “I planned it that way,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll have this for you in a minute.”

  I paid and we sat at one of the small wooden tables. The café looked like a French bistro sand colored walls and high ceilings. There were pictures and posters and tile floors.

  “So you took notice to the Porsche on Broadway,” Ashley asked when we were settled in. “What’s up with that.”

  There wasn’t much Ashley missed even if she didn’t mention what she had observed. It was one of the many things I loved about her.

  “The guy driving was Will.”

  “The personal trainer?”

  “Yes.”

  ??
?What was he doing in downtown Oakland?”

  “That I don’t know,” I said. “But I intend to ask him.”

  “You think it has anything to do with what’s going on with Ruth?”

  The door of the café opened and people flowed in steadily until the place was filled. There were multiple conversations going at once and Chuck looked at me as if to say ‘Told you’. I nodded and turned back to Ashley.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “Don’t know enough about Will yet to know what he was doing here. A cop on the Danville PD did a background check on him but it came up clean. He’s looking in to something else for me but that’s gonna take a couple of days and I’m not sure if the information will help.”

  I told her about Ruth and her father not speaking.

  “Don’t you just hate waiting?” she said.

  “Part of the job for me,” I said. “I do a lot of waiting. Just get used to it.”

  “It would drive me crazy.”

  “It can but I try to stay busy by taking beautiful masseuses to lunch whenever I can.”

  She smiled and my heartbeat sped up.

  Chuck brought our food to our table and we thanked him and he went to help at the register. Ashley took a piece of my Pannini and expressed regret at not ordering one so I gave her half, but I kept the potatoes to myself. I had to draw the line somewhere.

  9

  The next couple of days I hung out with Ruth and Will but I hadn’t asked him what he was doing in Oakland that day because I was waiting to see what Marv Seville came up with on him.

  Ruth did a lot of talking on the phone and from what I could tell they were all business calls and she handled her business like a pro. She stayed in the house for the most part except when she went out to the yard for some sun. It was late in the afternoon around five when I got a call from Lieutenant Seville.

  “I’m still waiting to hear about the father but I came up with some interesting stuff on Will,” he said.

  “You wanna tell me over the phone or meet somewhere?” I asked.

  “You anywhere near me?”

  “I’m in Black Hawk.”

  “That’s not that far,” he said.

  “Why don’t I come there and then I can buy you that lunch I owe you.”

  “More like dinner,” he said.

  “Dinner,” I repeated.

  “Sure,” he said. “The wife is at her mom’s house so I got nothing better to do. Meet me at a pizza joint I like.”

 
Ronald S. Barrios's Novels