"There's a police officer waiting for you at the entrance to the Horseman’s Club,” Wahl said. “He’ll bring you to me.”
“I’m on my way,” Georgina said. She checked her watch. If all went well she could get the documents signed and still catch a late flight to New York. “There’s just one thing,” she said, looking tentatively at Gordon. “Dr. Carmichael has his son with him. Will that be a problem?” Wahl told her to bring the boy along.
Georgina alerted Nate to the good news, and together with Gordon they walked the short distance to the Horsemen's Club. Officer Manuel Garcia greeted them and ushered them into an elevator. They descended two floors; the elevator doors opened onto a dimly lit underground tunnel. Gordon declared the tunnel “spooky.” Nate took his hand and coaxed him forward. Minutes later the group emerged on the side of the racetrack across from the grandstand, into an area of temporary horse stalls that was bustling with evacuated horses and their rescuers.
Officer Garcia led them to a low, beige-colored building. Inside, in a small, dusty office, an exotic looking young Asian woman was seated behind a desk. A single battered chair, its scuffed finish attesting to years of service, was set in front of the desk. Officer Garcia introduced Detective Samantha Mori.
Georgina’s stomach turned. So it was true. Someone was dead inside Rios’ barn. Let it not be Rios, she prayed. She glanced apprehensively at Nate, whose baffled expression showed her that he had no idea why he was being introduced to a detective. Georgina felt a twinge of guilt that she had not given Nate a heads-up about the body.
Looking up at Detective Mori, Gordon blurted out, “Are you a real detective? You sure don’t look like one.” Nate grabbed Gordon’s shoulders to restrain him; he offered Sam a stammering apology. Sam smiled at Gordon and said that she considered not looking like a detective to be a compliment. She told Georgina and Nate that she had some questions for them about what had happened that morning at the home of Alejandro Rios. She wanted to interview them individually, she said. Georgina detected a hint of urgency in Sam’s voice, and some agitation in her demeanor. Nate and Gordon followed Officer Garcia out of the office and Georgina sat down in the battered chair.
Sam asked Georgina why she was at the Rios estate that morning. Georgina said simply that she was there because of a business deal; her instincts told her to answer only what was asked, and to volunteer nothing. But, under the pressure of Sam's aggressive follow-up questioning, she soon found herself elaborating on the specifics of the deal, including the fact that Rios and Wahl had used a ruse to get Dr. Carmichael to sell them ZIFIX at a price considerably below market value.
When Sam asked her to describe everything that she had observed at the barn that morning, Georgina tried to recall as much detail as she could but to her chagrin, she found that her memory was sketchy. Perhaps, she thought, her panicked state had jumbled her perceptions before they were laid down in her brain. When Sam pressed her, Georgina became aware that her answers to the detective’s more repetitious questions were inconsistent.
Finally, Sam put down the pen with which she had been taking notes. Georgina sensed that the interview had reached a critical point. “There’s something I must tell you,” Sam said, looking Georgina fully in the eye. “Something very unfortunate happened in the barn.” Georgina tried not to betray that she knew something about what was coming. Her palms began to sweat. “Someone died there,” Sam said, continuing to fix her gaze on Georgina.
“Died?” Georgina said. Sensing Sam’s scrutiny, she feared that she had somehow signaled to the detective that she already knew about the body.
“Yes, died,” Sam said. Georgina’s heart was pounding in her chest. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” Sam continued. “Alejandro Rios is dead.”
When she heard the words, “Alejandro Rios,” a strange combination of unreality and detachment enveloped Georgina. “Rios?” she gasped. “Oh, no. Oh, that’s…, that’s…. shocking.”
Sam picked up her pen and began to write again in her notebook. “Yes, shocking,” she said.
“What happened?” Georgina asked.
“I can’t discuss that with you,” Sam said. “Sorry, that’s our procedure.” She continued to jot down notes. “Can you give me your cell phone number?” she said. “I may need to talk to you again.” After Georgina gave her the number, Sam raised her hand to summon Officer Garcia, who had been watching the interview through the windowed door to the office. “I appreciate your speaking with me,” she told Georgina. “Please don’t share what we talked about with anyone.”
Georgina barely heard Sam’s admonishment. Her mind was in a dither, trying to comprehend what Rios’ death would mean for the ZIFIX deal. Officer Garcia brought Nate and Gordon inside the office. Georgina and Nate exchanged places in the chair and Gordon sat down on the floor. Saying that she needed to make a call, Georgina left the office and walked along the hallway until she was sure that she was out of Officer Garcia’s hearing. She called Mark. To her surprise, Mark already knew that Rios was dead. Wahl had told him, he said.
“Our first priority is to make sure that we keep the Rios Capital account,” he said. “Wahl thinks that his daughter Adela is his successor. I hope that’s the case, because I have a good relationship with her. I’ve been handling her charitable foundation and her personal investments for some time.”
“What should I do about the ZIFIX deal?” Georgina asked. She was not surprised that Mark showed no signs of distress that his long time client was dead. After all, Rios was of no use to him anymore.
“Hold off doing anything,” Mark replied. “We’re going to have to wait until we know who has the legal right to sign.”
“So what do I tell Carmichael?”
“Tell him that the deal is still on but there will be a brief delay.”
“He’s talking with a detective now. I’ll let him know when he comes out.”
“Why is a detective talking to him anyway?” Mark asked. “Any police investigation into this is just window dressing. Rios had nerves of steel, and this time it worked against him. He stayed too long in the barn and he paid the price.”
“Of course,” Georgina said.
“Rios Capital had a lot of deals going on right now, and this puts them all up in the air,” Mark said. “I’m coming out there to take over.”
Georgina’s heart sank. “When will you be here?” she asked.
“As soon as travel can find me a place to stay,” he said. “The Inn is closed, and every hotel within a hundred miles is booked full because of the evacuation. Where are you staying anyway?”
The text message on her pager notified Katy Carmichael that the hospital’s disaster plan had just gone into effect. It ordered her to report immediately for emergency room duty. She took the elevator down to the ER. At the triage desk a nurse told her that there was no major trauma yet, just some people coming in with minor mishaps or trouble breathing. Since all the clinics in the evacuation zone were closed, she said, the volume of patients had taken an uptick in the last few hours. Katy saw that all the waiting room chairs were occupied, and the line to sign in for treatment stretched twenty people deep.
The conference room next to the triage area was full beyond capacity. Katy recognized most of the people there as physicians from the primary care departments, plus a few from surgery. She joined those who were standing along the walls. The Chief of the ER, a burly man in a continual state of motion, made his way to the front of the room.
“The evacuation area has more than doubled in size since this morning,” he told the assembled physicians. “This is a major event and we need to staff up to handle it. What’s being passed out is a new shift schedule. You’ll need to trade off with each other to follow your patients in the house while you’re here in the ER. Any questions?”
“Chief, some people that you have on this schedule aren’t here,” someone called out. “Not everyone got into the hospital before the roads closed.”
“Let me know
who needs to come off the schedule and I’ll rework it,” the Chief replied. He was already heading towards the door. “If you know where people are, give me that information too. I’ll ask law enforcement to help us get them in here.”
How typical, Katy thought. Nate had not made it in, so instead of pulling an all-nighter in the ER as she would be doing, he would be with Gordon, eating popcorn and watching TV in the comfort of his apartment. Getting the better deal, as usual.
Georgina walked back along the hallway to where Officer Garcia was standing outside Sam's office. After talking to Mark, she had let Nick know about Rios; he had promised to see what he could find out from his contacts. She watched through the window in the office door as Sam interviewed Nate. Because she had been so preoccupied with controlling her reaction to Sam’s questioning during her own interview, Georgina had barely noticed the detective's unusual appearance. But now that she was at some distance she became aware of Sam’s elaborate makeup and fashion-forward look. Only in California, she thought, a police detective with a stylist.
As the interview with Nate progressed, Georgina noticed that Sam smiled frequently, tilting her head slightly to one side as she spoke. She could not recall the detective smiling even once during the interview with her. As she watched more of Sam’s interaction with Nate she noted how uncomfortably long she held his gaze. Georgina found Detective Mori’s behavior oddly reassuring. If the police had any real concerns about the cause of Rios’ demise, she reasoned, surely they would have sent a more serious person to investigate.
The interview over, Nate and Gordon came out into the hallway. Officer Garcia asked them all to wait while he spoke with Detective Mori. “Did she tell you what happened?” Georgina asked Nate.
“She told me that Rios is dead, if that’s what you mean,” Nate replied. “She’s suspicious about how it happened, judging from the questions she asked.”
“I think she’s just following protocol,” Georgina said. “Rios must have felt that he had to be the last one to leave the barn, the captain of the ship sort of thing. The police have to rule out foul play whenever they find a body.”
“This is not just any body,” Nate said.
“All the more reason to make a thorough investigation.”
“At least we have each other as alibis,” Nate said with slight grin. “What happens with the deal now?” Georgina explained that the signing would have to be put off until they knew who had inherited Rios Capital. Nate took the news calmly.
Officer Garcia came to inform them that the roads around the Fairgrounds were now closed to non-emergency traffic; no one could leave until further notice. He said that he would take them to join the others from the Rios estate, and then escort them as a group to the shelter, where they would be obliged to spend the night. Gordon began to whimper; Nate tried to cheer him up, telling him that they were going to have a great adventure camping out. Officer Garcia led them to the temporary stable area where they met up with Wahl and the barn staff. Georgina was relieved to see Sonia and her father among the group. She expressed her condolences about Rios’ death to Wahl.
“I can’t figure out how he got left behind,” Wahl said. “Just before I left I checked with Jose, and he told me that Rios had gone out in Rousseau’s truck.”
Jose spoke up hastily. “When I was about to leave,” he said, “I spotted a horse running loose, so I ran after it to catch it. I thought I saw Mr. Rios sitting next to Rousseau in his truck. By the time I caught the horse and got him inside my rig, Rousseau had pulled out. But it turned out that it wasn’t Mr. Rios on the passenger side, it was one of the grooms.”
“Don’t feel bad, Jose,” Wahl said. “It was a mistake that anyone could have made.”
“What’s going to happen to the horses now?” Jose asked. “I don’t even know who owns them.”
Thinking that this might be an opportunity to find out something about Adela Rios, Georgina said, “I’ve heard there’s a daughter. Maybe she’ll be the one taking over.”
“I hope so,” Jose replied. “Adela loves horses. The horse that I chased down belongs to her. If the new owner is Adela, then I can keep my job.” Jose’s comment reminded Georgina that, with Rios’ death, there were now a number of people with uncertain futures. She briefly weighed the possibility of layoffs in her group if the Rios Capital account were lost.
Officer Garcia led the group to the shelter at the Fairgrounds. They checked in with the Red Cross and were assigned to Exhibit Hall B, a building that during the Fair season was used for displaying model trains. Outside the hall portable toilets were lined up against one wall. Inside, the tables that held the trains had been taken down, and in their place stood rows of cots, each cot having sheets, a pillow, and a thin blanket folded on top.
Feeling drained, Georgina sat down on the cot assigned to her and assessed her circumstances. She had her purse and tote; her carry on bag with most of her useful possessions was in the trunk of the rental car she had left at the Rios estate. There was no prospect of getting out of the shelter and into a hotel until tomorrow at the earliest, and even that seemed increasingly unlikely. She was stranded in a strange place with several thousand people in various states of agitation. Mark was coming and her client was dead. And her feet hurt. In a funk she called Pearl. “You won’t believe what happened to me today,” she said.
“Are you caught up in the wildfire?” Pearl asked. “I’ve been following it all day on the Internet.”
“Yes, but I’m safe at a shelter,” Georgina said. “I’ve been so focused on getting through the day that I haven’t checked the news. Tell me what’s going on.”
“There are huge fires burning all over Southern California, all the way from Santa Barbara to the Mexican border. The governor has declared a state of emergency and he’s called out the National Guard. The biggest fire is where you are. There’s over half a million people evacuated already.”
“Half a million?” Georgina was astonished at the number.
“And counting,” Pearl said. “It could go over one million, or so they’re saying on the news. Are you sure you’re OK?
“Physically, yes. I’m not so sure about mentally,” Georgina replied. “Pearl, my client is dead.”
“You have got to be kidding me!” Pearl exclaimed. “He’s dead?”
“Dead,” Georgina said. “The firemen found his body in his barn. Smoke inhalation, I guess. He didn’t sign the papers for the sale, so I don’t even have a deal. And now Mark’s coming out here to take over.”
“Oh, Georgina, I am so sorry,” Pearl said, genuinely distressed. “And the worst of it is, you’re all alone.”
“Not exactly alone. Some of my client’s people have ended up here at the shelter, and we’ve all been assigned to the same building. Oh, and the fellow on the other side of the deal is here too.”
“The one whose bones you’re planning to pick clean? That must be interesting.”
“It’s awkward,” Georgina said. “And he has his son with him.”
“His son? How did that happen?” Georgina told Pearl the story of her morning’s adventure. “Hey, don’t go soft on the kid,” Pearl cautioned. “He’ll have you renegotiating the deal.”
“No chance of that,” Georgina declared. “Mark will be here as soon as he can book a room and he’ll see to it that there are no renegotiations.”
Later, Georgina checked in with Mark to let him know that she would be spending the night at the Fairgrounds. She did not mention that Nate and his son were also there; she was too tired to have that discussion. Mark expressed no interest in her welfare. When he realized that she had nothing to report other than her location, he abruptly hung up. So much for Mr. Nice Guy, Georgina thought. Mark’s uncharacteristic thoughtfulness towards her appeared to have run its course.
Looking forward to acquiring a toothbrush and some soap, Georgina joined the people from Casa Feliz in the line to get hygiene kits. “At least we’ll be able to scrub off
some of the smoke,” Georgina said to Wahl. He introduced his family. “Pleased to meet you all,” Georgina said. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”
Lauren Wahl made a sound resembling a low hiss. “It’s awful here,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m in such a dump. They’re treating us like cattle. Herd us to get this, herd us to get that. And where were the authorities this morning? Why didn’t we get more warning?”
“Fires spring up all the time during Santa Anas but usually they don’t spread as fast as this one did,” Jose explained. “That’s the difference. The fire spread so fast there was no time to get a warning out.”
“If it keeps being this exciting,” Jake said, “I may rethink my California dream.”
“Well, you like the Kentucky way of doing things,” Jose replied.
Chapter Eleven