Liquid Smoke

FORTY-FOUR

When it rains in Southern California, we drive as though we’ve never seen rain before. We go about ten miles an hour, jam on the brakes at every opportunity, and try to rearend as many other cars as possible.

That’s why the normally twenty-minute drive back to Mission Beach took me over an hour on the wet freeway.

I walked up the boardwalk to my house. Storms had a way of wreaking havoc on most everything else, but they stirred up the ocean in a good way. The swells rose up with a little more intensity than on sunny days, their usually unspectacular waves coming in higher and heavier, crashing with an attitude.

I was thinking about pulling my full wetsuit from the closet when I walked into my place and found Miranda straddling Carter on the living room floor, his arms pinned above his head and his eyes full of fear.

“I told you you’d go down like a rag doll,” she said to him. Carter’s eyes shifted to me. “Help.”

Miranda turned around. “He bet me I couldn’t throw him to the floor.”

“Good bet,” I said.

Miranda slid off him, and he jumped to his feet like nothing had happened.

“Lucky,” he said.

Miranda grunted and pushed some of the black hair away from her face. “How’d it go?”

“Awesome,” I replied, making a face. “You two learn anything?”

“I learned Magilla Gorilla isn’t that tough,” she said, glancing at Carter.

Carter looked like a child whose favorite toy had been taken from him by a bully. “Whatever.” He looked at me. “It was Keene who was down here.”

“Positive?” I asked, unsurprised.

“Pretty positive,” he said. “We talked to about thirty people. Houses on the walk and a couple in the alleys. We got several descriptions that match the guy.”

“The night before Darcy was found?”

Miranda nodded. “Yeah, and one guy who swears he saw him two days before.”

I looked at Carter. “Who?”

“Dude up on Cohassett. Said he saw him at Roberto’s and on the beach.”

“Believable?”

“Complete stoner, but he seemed somewhat lucid when we talked to him.”

Two days prior. Which meant Keene had been keeping tabs on me. Again, not a surprise, but not something I was thrilled to hear either.

Miranda looked at Carter. “You owe me a meal.” Carter grimaced. “I know.” “I want it. Now.”

“So order a pizza. It’s almost lunchtime. I’ll pay.” She shook her head. “Not a chance.” She turned to me. “Where’s an expensive place down here?”

“Lamont Street Grill is good,” I said. Carter gave me the finger.

Miranda turned back to him. “That’s where we’re going.” “Have fun,” I said, walking into the kitchen. “You’re not coming?” Carter asked, both curious and hopeful. “Don’t want to ruin your date,” I said. “And I’m not in the mood.”

“Why not?” Miranda asked.

There were a lot of reasons, but I didn’t feel the need to get into them at that moment. I needed to clear my head.

“I’m tired,” I said. “Go. I’ll fill you guys in later.”

“On what?” Carter asked.

I didn’t answer because I wasn’t sure.