California Schemin' (3 page)

The drive home, while still an hour, seemed
to fly by. I had the radio blasting and the windows open. I’d seen
the Vermont weather on the internet, and they were in the midst of
a “wintery mix.” I did love being in the sunshine, at least
temporarily.

The air conditioner was whipping my hair
around as I turned up the one-lane road that led to Beau’s cabin.
Sometime during the day it had become Beau’s in my mind. I wasn’t
surprised he’d bought it. The place suited him. The isolation, if
anything, suited him more.

A quarter of a mile from the house I could
see the commotion. There were a couple of cop cars and a pickup in
the drive. Three officers were standing at the foot of the stairs
talking to Beau, and a fourth was just coming out the door.

I parked on the side of the road, gathered up
an armful of groceries and started up the drive. Beau and the cops
noticed me, and the whole group headed in my direction.

“Here, let me take these.” Beau took the
groceries from me and set them in the bed of the pickup.

“There are more.” I started back toward the
car. I knew there had to be a good reason for the sheriff to be at
the house, but I really didn’t want to know what it was.

“Wait. Don’t bring those up yet. I’m not sure
we can go in.” Beau glanced at the officer standing beside him.

I sighed and turned around. He was
short-circuiting my efforts to ignore whatever crisis had befallen
us now. I was supposed to be in California resting up from
disaster. I wasn’t all that keen on the fact that it had followed
me here.

“Okay,” I said, “lay it on me. What happened
while I was gone?"

“Unfortunately,” a brown-haired officer broke
in, “the cabin door was forced, and it looks as though your
husband’s computer was stolen. The place was searched. Any idea
what they were looking for?”

I let the husband label slide without
comment, led them into the house and dragged my computer and camera
out from under the bed.

“You’d better call Sheriff Fogel. I saw a
woman fall off the Foresthill Bridge yesterday. They may have been
looking for the camera I had with me. They must know that any
pictures could have been downloaded. That’s probably why they took
Beau’s computer. What they don’t know is that I gave the photo disk
to the Sheriff already. There isn’t any point in stealing it from
me.”

The cops took off, leaving Beau and me to
clean up the glass from the window that was smashed out of the
door. Beau was quiet, and I didn’t know what to say. Without
meaning to I’d gotten back into trouble, and this time I’d dragged
him in with me.

The house had been tossed. I put the cold
stuff away but let the non-perishables wait. Whoever tossed the
house either hadn’t thought to look under the bed, or they hadn’t
gotten to it before they had to leave. Or maybe they thought they’d
gotten what they needed when they nabbed Beau’s computer. No, his
computer was in plain sight. They wouldn’t have had to search the
house if they thought that was all they needed.

I went to stand with Beau, who had finished
nailing a board over the broken window in the door.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” I scanned
his face for signs of stress. Life with Beau was generally easy. He
was laid back, an affectionate and fun-loving guy. But strangers in
his house was something out of his comfort zone.

“What makes you ask that?”

“They didn’t find my camera or laptop. They
don’t know about my computer, but they could have seen my camera. I
think that’s what they were looking for.”

“That depends on how badly they want to see
those pictures. It’s possible they’ll try again. Tomorrow you’re
coming to work with me. I’m not taking any chances on them finding
you alone.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead.
“I don’t care how determined they are, you are mine, and they can’t
have you.”

“Better be careful, they’ll be marking
'doesn’t share well with others' on your report card.” I was
thinking that taking me to work was over the top, but I knew better
than to try and argue with him when he was worried about me.

“Let ‘em. I don’t think sharing well with
others was ever my strong point. Playing well with others, maybe,
in the right circumstances. Come on,” Beau smiled at me “I’m taking
you into town for dinner.

The next morning as we were getting ready to
leave, I rummaged around for a Sharpie and wrote a note on a piece
of paper. It read: The Camera is at the Sheriff’s Department. I
taped it to the outside of the door.

Beau looked at my handy work and laughed.
“They’ll think you’re bluffing.”

“Well I’m taking both the camera and the
computer with me, so tossing the house again isn’t going to help
them. I’m just trying to save us the trouble of cleaning up again.
It’s worth a try.”

He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled
me close to him as we walked to the truck.

“Did you hear the phone ring this morning?”
he asked.

“Yeah, what was that all about?”

“I’ve got some bad news.” He slid into the
driver seat. “Michael likes what I’ve done so far, and he wants me
to do some more stone work at the house. It’ll be at least a couple
more weeks before I’m done.

“How is that bad news?” I asked. I walked
around and climbed into the truck.

“You told me yesterday you’re ready to go
home.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t. More work is a good
thing.” I hoped I was pulling off the appropriate empathetic tone,
but my heart was sinking.

Beau smiled and dropped his hand on my thigh,
so I guessed I was doing a good job with the whole supportive
girlfriend thing.

The day passed peacefully. I sat in the sun
reading and surfing the net while Beau pieced the stonework on the
outside of the chimney. He packed up as the sun dropped behind the
trees, and we headed into Nevada City for dinner and a movie.

We ate at Dave’s Burgers and walked along the
old-world streets lit with street lamps and twinkle lights to the
theater. The three original
Star Wars
movies were playing.
We bought candy and sat through one and two before I started to
drift off.

“Bree,” Beau whispered and shook my shoulder.
“Let’s get out of here before the next one starts.”

“Okay.” I stretched and gathered my coat and
candy wrappers.

Out on the street Beau put his arm around my
shoulder and pulled me close. We walked down the hill looking in
shop windows.

“Such a pretty town,” I said looking at the
brick buildings and the lights. The windows were filled with
paintings and funky clothes, candy and stuffed toys. “It’s like
Disneyland.”

“Only better,” said Beau. “We didn’t have to
pay to get in.”

We turned into the dark side street where the
truck was parked. Both passenger side tires were flat. We walked up
the road. I was thinking we must have driven over a beer
bottle.

“Shit,” Beau said. “Someone broke into the
truck.”

We walked to the passenger door, and I
noticed the window had been broken. I looked through the window and
swore. The glove compartment had been forced open, and my camera
was gone.

I checked under the seat. My computer was
still there. I turned to Beau.

“They didn’t find the computer, but why slash
our tires?”

Beau shrugged. We were stranded until a tow
truck could get us out of here. I was mad about losing my camera,
but slashing the tires felt personal.

I dialed AAA on my cell, and we sat on a
bench overlooking the river waiting for them to arrive. After
sitting for an hour, a Nevada County cruiser pulled in behind the
truck. A Placer County cruiser drove up a second later and parked
behind the first sheriff. Fogel got out of the second vehicle and
walked down to where we sat.

“Heard you’re getting a little unwelcome
attention.” He looked up at the truck. “Anything missing?”

“My camera. That’s all, except why did they
have to slash the tires? Kind of mean.”

“Probably just making sure you couldn’t
follow them if you showed while they were doing a B&E on your
truck. Nothing personal.”

“Seems like a warning to me.” Beau scowled at
Fogel. “Warning us to stay out of it.”

“It feels personal to me. I liked that
camera,” I said.

“Did you see anything?” Fogel asked.

“Nope. We were out to dinner.”

“Why didn’t you take your camera with you?”
He wasn’t looking at me like I was dumb, so much. More like I was
an alien with four eyes or something.

“Didn’t occur to me that they would look for
us here.”

Fogel nodded. “I hate to say this, but I have
to. You need to be more careful. House got busted into, tires got
slashed. Sooner or later they may decide they need to talk to you,
and the minute you see someone’s face, you’ll be a liability to
them. They take killing women in stride.”

“Did you find out who she is?”

“Not yet. I probably wouldn’t tell you if I
did know. You know too much already. I don’t have the manpower to
keep an eye on you and find the killer, too, so stay out of
trouble.” He went over to talk to the Nevada County Sheriff who was
making notes.

“Yes, boss.” I felt like sticking out my
tongue or rolling my eyes at him, but I didn’t. The fact that we
had two slashed tires was a little too disturbing to make fun of
the idea that I was in danger.

A flatbed tow truck came, replaced the flats
with a couple of those little donut tires and loaded the truck. He
took us to the twenty-four-hour service station which thankfully
was also a tire shop. He dumped the truck and took my AAA
information before he disappeared. By the time the shop replaced
the tires and took my money, it was late. Beau was starving again,
so we hit a drive-through and went home.

Beau parked, got out and sat down on the
porch steps, looking up into the star filled sky. “You know this
means they followed you, don’t you? Someone is watching you.”

“Well, they could have been driving by and
recognized the truck.” I didn’t believe that for a minute. I knew
they had to be watching. I was all bravado, bolstering myself up so
I wouldn’t look scared.

“Bree, I’m sending you home. You witnessed a
murder, our home was burgled, and now they’re following you. Who
knows what they’ll find on the camera? What if they enlarge one of
those photos and see something? I don’t want you to be the next one
over the bridge.”

“I gave the disk to Fogel. I don’t think
there are any photos on there for them to find.”

“Then they are going to want to ask you what
you saw, or, God forbid, they’ll decide they are safer with you
permanently off the scene, as in six feet under, not across the
country.”

“What are you saying? I have no choice but to
go home? What if I don’t want to go home? What if they follow me
home?” This was my problem. I wanted to go home until someone told
me I had to go home, and then I didn’t want to anymore. I don’t
like people telling me what to do.

“Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll tell everyone you
went home to Virginia. When they say, ‘I thought it was Vermont,’
I’ll say, ‘You must have heard it wrong. I’m from Vermont, Bree’s
from Virginia.’ That’ll confuse things. I’ll tell Tom what’s
happened, and he can keep an eye on you. And you have all those
dogs; they’ll alert you if anyone strange shows up.”

He stood up and took my hand.

“Come on. Let’s get you packed.”

“Wait.” I resisted the pull on my hand. “What
if my leaving puts you in danger? What if they come after you
instead?”

“I’ll be fine. There’s no reason for anyone
to come after me. I didn’t see anything.”

That’s how I found myself lying in the back
seat of the car, hiding from prying eyes, heading for the airport
an hour before midnight.

“I’m not happy about this,” I said. Beau was
in the front seat driving.

“What?” He turned the radio down.

“I don’t like this. I feel like a fugitive.”
I pushed off the blanket he’d thrown over me and sat up.

“You are a fugitive. Lie back down, for God’s
sake. Fogel said it was a good idea to hide you.” He turned the
radio back up.

“He didn’t say I had to stay hidden all the
way to the airport.” I shouted over the radio. “We’re on the
freeway now, and nobody followed us out of town.”

He turned the radio down midway through my
sentence.

“You don’t have to shout. I can hear you
perfectly well. And just because I didn’t see anybody doesn’t mean
there wasn’t anyone.”

“I was only shouting because you had the
radio turned up. It’s dark, Beau, how could anyone tell I was in
here if they were following us?”

“They could see the shape of your head and
surmise that you’re in here. So lie back down.”

“How about if I just slide down so my head
isn’t visible.”

“Whatever, Bree. I’m tired of arguing with
you.” Then under his breath “It’s not like I’m trying to save your
life or anything.”

We pulled into the short-term parking
structure across from the Sacramento International Airport and
trotted across the elevated pedestrian walkway that spanned Airport
Boulevard. We had checked me in on-line and planned to get here at
the last minute to reduce my visibility. Now we had to hurry.

I started toward the security checkpoint, but
Beau took my arm and led me to the express line for employees and
first class passengers. The passengers standing in the regular
security line looked at us with curiosity. A few had open hostility
on their faces. Standing in line has a way of bringing out the
worst in people.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“The Sheriff’s Department got me permission
to escort you to the gate. I’m not letting you out of my sight
until you are on the plane.”