"Does he still own the house his wife was killed in?"
"I think,” she replied. "It says here he spends his time there and here when he's not working. So yeah, that leads me to believe that is still his primary residence."
"Hmm. Does it say the address?"
"Nice try."
"Does it at least say the Housekeepers name in any of the articles?"
"Actually, yes it does. Here. Inez Valenzuela."
"Well, I think we need to have a word with Inez Valenzuela."
"What makes you think ol' Inez will be willing to speak to you, IF, and that’s a big if, you can even locate her. I'm sure she's had more than her fair share of reporters trying to get at her over the years."
"Ah, well you see, a few months back, on that missing girl case, I learned a little trick. You offer the person at the door five dollars and they just invite you on in."
"Jesus."
10.
The kids woke up shortly after our little discussion and it was time for me to make good on my bribe. We all got back in the car, except for poor Wrecker who was still too sore to move, and headed back in to Pismo. My promise was ice cream for dinner and I was happy to make good on it.
After the kids were satisfied, Elise got a call from Jamie. Her and her daughter had arrived in town and we told them we would meet them back at the motel where she had already reserved a room.
We stopped by a gas station, picked up a six-pack of bottled mojitos for the adults and some juice for the kids, and arrived at the motel to see Jamie and child sitting in the car outside our rooms. Elise ran over to them, gave Jamie a big hug, and thanked her again for making the trip. We left the kids and Wrecker in the room to watch cartoons and get ready for bed, I grabbed three chairs, and we adults sat right outside the front door, enjoying the clean, night air. While drinking our horrible mojitos, we filled Jamie in on the whole story. She seemed really excited to be a part of it, even if she was just the babysitter.
We decided to retire to our rooms and call it a night, but right when I closed my door I ran back out and knocked on Elise's.
"What'd ya forget," she asked.
"Hold on. We need Jamie already." I yelled out to her as she was reaching into her car to grab her suitcase. "Change of plans, James. We need ya already. She and Calen came walking back over to us, Jamie's smile was wide and devilish.
"What's the plan?" she asked.
"E and I need to get down to that beach. It is a long shot, but I'm pretty sure that asshole dropped that rock he used to kill her with when he bent over to drag her out into the ocean. If he saw me, maybe he got spooked, finished with the body then took off to go work on an alibi. We need that rock."
"Archie, it's dark out. We will never find it, for one thing. And second, how the heck would we even get down there? And third, who is to say someone isn't watching and waiting for you to come back?"
"I don't have an answer to any of those questions, so we're just going to have to wing it. Do you still have that wind-up flashlight in your car that I got you for emergencies?"
"Um, yeah, I think so. No."
"No?"
"Yeah, sorry. I took it out, it was always rolling around and it was annoying."
Jamie spoke up and told us she had a light in her car, and then ran off to go retrieve it. With the flashlight in hand, we were ready to go. I grabbed Elise by the hand, told Jamie thank you and we were on our way down the hill.
When we got to the cliff, Elise's worries became fully understandable to me. We had no goddamn way of getting down the rocks on to the beach. At least not without climbing down some steps way down the way, then swimming over. Now I was sure it was a residence of one of the big three houses that was down there this morning.
I had no other options, so I decided that Elise would have to make the climb down the rocks. I broke the news to her.
"What?! There is no way in Hello Operator Give Me Number Nine that I climbing down these wet rocks. You see those sharp, jagged rocks down below? That is where I die if I have the slightest slip. Not going to happen. You do it."
"No way, those rocks are all dirty and shit. And you've seen my delicate hands. Not happening."
"Wait, let me see something," she said, as she fished her phone out of her back pocket. "I'm checking the tides. Hold on."
I held. Remember that movie R.O.T.O.R.? It was a total Robocop rip-off with the world's worst special effects and plot holes they almost literally fly a plane through. Man, that is great. I have that on VHS somewhere. Too bad I don't have a VCR. Oh man, you know what else I have on VHS? Vanilla Ice's acting masterpiece Cool As Ice. Man, that’s great. I need to look for a cheap VCR when I get back home...
A hard punch in my arm snapped me from my thoughts. "Gahhh, what was that for?"
"Pay attention! I was talking to you."
"God, sorry."
"This said that high tide occurred this morning at 10:12, after the murder, and again tonight at 8:28. Look how high the water is over there anyway. There is no beach. Whatever was down there has been washed clean or swept away. We're out of luck, Archie."
Shit. Shit shit! Shit goddamn-it! She was right. This was a dead end. I gave my eyes a rub and tried not to get frustrated. It was a lot easier now with my medication. My stupid, wonderful medication. The same medication I tried so hard to overcome a decade and a half ago and have already fell right back in with after a mere six months. It was like an abusive relationship, tailored made for the Jerry Springer show. No matter how hard I tried to leave my abusive boy-frin, the pills, I couldn't...'Cause I loves him, Jurry...ugh!
"Okay, I don't know what else we can do tonight. Let's just go back to the rooms and start fresh in the morning. I'm thinking about calling Detective Anderson tomorrow to see if he can give me any info on Brad Jackson from old police reports or anything. I really want to talk to that housekeeper. I guess I could call Max too, over at the records department."
"That's not a bad idea."
"I have my moments," I tell her.
"We can always take a road trip up to Hollywood if we need to. It's not too, too far."
"I still haven't even seen a picture of this guy yet."
"Who, Brad?"
"I can't believe you haven't IMDB'd him yet on your phone."
"Me either. Geez. I'll do it when we get back."
"Shall we?" She extends her arm and I hook mine around it as she leans her head on my shoulder and we start walking back up the hill at a leisurely pace.
11.
The next morning, the three of us decided to finally take the kids down to the beach, where they could play and I could make a few calls. We managed to get a fairly early start because I didn’t get much sleep last night. When my excitement and adrenaline were kicked in, it was hard to for me to relax.
When we arrived in Pismo, the main street by the pier was packed with people, young and old, and I instantly remembered why my vacations usually never include large gatherings of assholes I don't know. We parked in the lot and Elise and Jamie got the kids ready while I paid the meter. When everyone was situated, we gathered up our things and headed for the least populated area.
I have never really been a fan of sitting on the sand, but I guess since I had to be here, sitting was better than standing. Laziness wins again.
I entrusted Wrecker to the kids and they all ran off towards the water, with my fat dog trailing way behind. Jamie and Elise followed them down to supervise. I took my phone out and dialed Detective Anderson's cell phone.
"Hello," he answered.
"Hey Detective, it's Archie."
"Hey Lemons, what’s up?"
"Well, I've kinda stumbled in to shit here. I'm at the beach with my sister-in-law and nephews."
"What happened?"
"Well," I said, "I was taking a walk along the cliff on the shoreline, and stopped to check things out through one of those telescope things they have set up."
"Oh yeah, what'd ya find?"
"It’s not what I found, it’s what I saw."
"Right. Well, what'd ya see?"
"Yeah so, I'm checking out these huge houses right on the cliff and below they have little stairs that go down to the beach. It is the only way down to this specific place, so I assumed I saw the owners of one of the houses. The closest house to where I was, I'm guessing. It was the only one with the lights on and any sign of life."
"Alright," he said, and I could tell he was getting impatient with my leisurely telling of the story. I decided to get to the point.
"So down below, on the beach, there is a man and woman. So I just kinda watch them for a second, not really expecting anything, just out of boredom. Well, after a few seconds it looks like they start getting into a little fight. The woman gets pissed and starts heading back for the stairs, but the guy picks up a rock and beats the woman to death."
"What the fuck? Archie, are you shittin' on me, here?"
"No!"
"So, what did the cops say? Are you in trouble or a witness or what?"
"That’s the thing. The police don't believe me. I had stayed up all night the night before and was pretty tired. And I stood at the telescope and watch the man drag the body out into the ocean. Then he saw me."
"The murderer saw you?"
"Yeah!"
"Oh shit. What happened?"
"I backed up and took the frak off! He was too far away to catch up but he knows someone saw."
"So what’s with the police down there?!"
"Get this. Apparently the guy I think did this is some big time actor or some shit, who is so god-like and perfect he couldn't ever do any wrong."
"What’s the name?"
"Brad Jackson...?"
"Not Brad Pitt?"
"I was hoping, but no. Brad Jackson."
"Never heard of him."
"Well, join the club. Apparently every woman knows who he is though."
"Oh," he said. "One of those Hollywood pretty-boys, huh?"
"Yeah, that’s what I'm thinking."
"Okay, so tell me what you need. I'm assuming you hired yourself for this case, right?"
"You believe me, yeah?"
"Man, if Archie Lemons says he saw something, I sure as shit am going to believe it."
"Thank you, Detective. Tell that to the assholes in charge down here."
"I will call them, actually."
"Um," I said. "That may not be a good idea. We kind of got into it with them down there and Elise blew up at the captain and told him we were going to solve this case and embarrass the fuck out of him in the process."
"Well, right on. That’s what I like to hear."
"But, I need your help."
"Anything you need."
"Apparently this guy's wife was murdered a few years back."
"No shit?" he asked. "Did he do it?!"
"Apparently not. He was out of the country filming some movie. He had this stalker that was really causing him trouble. Made death threats and everything. I guess when he left for his movie she broke into the house and murdered his wife. The housekeeper saw the woman on the property and went to go call the police, that’s when she discovered the body of the wife.
"So what I need from you, Detective, is everything you have on this guy. It was a huge case four or five years ago. All I have is what is on the internet. But, what I'm really interested in is talking to this housekeeper."
"You think she is lying?" he asked.
"I don't know, but this shit is way too hinky to not investigate every goddamn little nook and cranny of."
"I agree. I'm actually still at home right now but when I get down to the station, I'll start working on it. I'll get back to you as soon as I have something."
"Thank you Detective. Tell The Bone I said what's up, too."
"Will do. See ya, Lemons."
"Bye, Detective."
Apparently we both forgot about tough guy hangs up and been reduced to proper, polite farewells. Gettin' shot changes you, man. It changes you! But seriously, tough guy hang up fail number one-million.
I ended the call and immediately called Max from the records department.
"Cocks!" he answered. "What can I do ya for?"
"Dolla fitty! Lub you long ti'!"
"What a bargain!"
I laughed and finally gave a proper greeting.
"Hey Max. How ya been?"
"Been good. How 'bout you, Killer?"
Ugh!
"I actually need a favor from you again."
"Right on. Another case? This one’s not going to get you almost killed is it?”
"God, I hope not. Fingers crossed, please."
"Ha, so whatcha need?"
"There is some actor named Brad Jackson..."
"Sure," he interrupted. "Hunky vampires of the Hollywood Hills, and countless rom-com chick flicks."
"You've heard of him?"
"Sure," he said, matter-of-factly. "Who hasn't?"
"Well, me for starters. But anyway. I guess this guy's wife was murdered a few years ago."
"Sure. By that crazy bitch stalker of his. You didn't hear about that?"
"Guess I must have missed it."
"Okay, well, whatta ya need?"
"I need a background check on him. And his housekeeper that was the eyewitness. And the crazy stalker bitch who did it."
"You want a background check on Brad Jackson?" He seemed shocked. "What in the hell for?"
"You're just going to have to trust me on this one"
"Yikes. Okay, man. You're not crappin' in someone else's litterbox again, are ya?"
"Pretty much, man. I'm not even diggin' a hole."
"Awesome. You should have hung up after that."
Damn-it. "Damn-it."
"I'll call ya back when I get them, okay. The stalker's name is Emma Ricks. I remember that from the trail. Do you know the housekeeper’s name, though?"
"Yeah, Inez Valenzuela."
"I'm sure there can't be too many of those in LA." We laughed and I said thanks then concluded the call.
Now I had nothing to do but sit here in this lice-infested sand and wait.
12.
So, I saw this little huddle of baby flies swarming near the sand by where I was seated and decided that was about enough for me. I had a better idea, anyway. I stood up and walked towards the water.
"Hey Elliot," I called out. He turned and looked. "Come here for a minute, please. Grab Wrecker, too."
Elliot grabbed my dog and ran over to me.
"Hold on to him for a second okay, I just want to get a picture."
"Okay, Uncle Archie!" He gave me a big smile.
"Okay, now I want you to put your head down. Don't look at the camera."
"Umm okay?"
He did as he was told and looked down at Wrecker so the picture didn't capture his face. I told him thanks then yelled out to Elise that I was going to steal her car for thirty minutes. She didn't seem to care. She was probably impressed I lasted this long.
I grabbed the keys from her bag and headed back up to civilization. On the way to the car I stopped in at Poncho’s, the local surf shop, where I quickly purchased a large straw beach hat which I would be billing to...shit...myself. Backfire.
I cruised up to the beach area's local Wal-Mart and printed out the picture I just took and turned it in to a cheap looking Lost Dog flyer, made a few copies and returned to the car. I was going to pay Mr. Jackson a little visit.
I got to Ocean Boulevard in less than ten minutes and I parked a ways down from the house and walked the rest of the way. I was running a scheme and couldn't be seen pulling up out front. I put on my stupid hat and took off on foot.
I knocked on his door.
No answer.
I tried again.
This time the door opened slightly. The chain was still locked.
"Yeah, what do you want?" the voice from behind the door asked me.
"Sorry to bother you, sir. My son’s dog ran away in this area yesterday and we've been searching all over for him."
"How did you get in here?"
"I'm sorry, the gate was unlocked and I just came up the walkway here." Total bullshit! I picked that bitch and broke in! Booya!
"It's unlocked?"
"Yes sir, I'm sorry. I'm just desperate to find this dog. My son is heartbroken. Do you mind taking a look? We‘re just here on vacation for a couple days and we‘re running out of time to find him. If you could…"