Baca

“I didn’t have time to look at everything she brought from Malibu, but her diary didn’t mention discovery until she got the stuff, so I figure it was in that batch of goodies.”

“Was it paintings and photos?”

“How’d you know that?”

“I saw the investigator taking that stuff out of Mickey’s house and putting it in his car.”

I thought, then nodded, “Mickey was to hold the items and now Mickey’s gone, so the Sheriff’s Department will have to take it back in custody.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We can’t go to Vick and ask to go through them.”

“Yep.”

“We’ll need to get pictures or copies or something.”

“Uh-huh.”

I turned to him, “Any ideas how we can do that?”

Hondo reached into his shirt pocket and took out the floppy. “I think Mickey took photos of everything for an inventory and we’ve got it right here, or at least most of it.”

“World class investigator, that’s you.”

“It’s amazing what you can find doing a little B&E.”

**

At the office, Hondo found our computer’s photo software wasn’t compatible with that on Mickey’s disk, so he went out to buy something that would work. Hunter had left a message that she was with Immigration and would be back later. I was alone, and I propped my feet up and thought about The Ghoul. Hondo and I had talked about who it might be, but we didn’t know everyone Mickey knew, so it was difficult. I could only think of one person to ask. Bond Meadows.

I decided to check the house in Beverly Hills first, then go from there if it didn’t pan out. I didn’t call because I didn’t want her to tell me I couldn’t come in. I’ve found surprise visits work well with people

who don’t want to see you.

I punched in the number at the mansion’s gate and was glad Bond hadn’t changed it since she’d fired me. I drove into the drive, parked by the door, and rang the bell.

There was no answer so I tried the knob and found it open. I walked in and said, “Hello,” but got no reply. I listened for any sounds but heard nothing, so I walked the long floor to the backyard and stopped at the French doors to look through the glass at the pool area.

Carl Rakes was wearing a black Speedo and catching rays in a lounge chair, with Bond next to him feeding him grapes by holding them in her lips and pressing her mouth to his. Iced champagne cooled under the umbrella, and glasses rested near their hands. A third glass was by an adjacent chair and I didn’t have long to figure out who else was there because old iron grip himself, Frank Meadows walked out carrying what looked like a silver tray of chocolate covered strawberries that he sat near Bond, then put his chair on the other side of Rakes.

Now wasn’t this a fine situation? I watched some more as Bond fed Carl grapes and strawberries and ran her hands over his tats. They were talking but I was too far to make out what they were saying and I’d never been good at lip reading, unless you count the swearing done by NFL coaches on the sidelines. Beyond the pool area were the topiary shapes of the animals. Behind them, the small jungle of manicured bushes and trees extended to the ten-foot high rock wall surrounding the property. I noticed the wall had a security system along the top to catch anyone climbing over, but I also remembered the security control box was by the front door, so I turned and retraced my route through the house.

The security system control panel opened with a pull, for which I was grateful. Every switch was labeled. I thought it was funny that the only one switched on was the one around the back yard. All the others were turned off. No wonder I could drive up and waltz right through the door. I flipped the last switch to Off and went out the door.

I drove out and parked down the street behind several landscaping trucks. Using the trucks for cover, I trotted to the Meadows’ privacy wall and pulled myself over, dropping against the inside, where the bushes hid me. I stayed low through the bushes and it was easy going. Everything was mulched to perfection and I was as silent as a ghost as I approached the pool area.

Their voices became audible, then cleared as I reached the last edge of topiary by the cement area surrounding the pool.

I was behind the twelve-foot high mother kangaroo and joey in her pouch, but couldn’t quite make out all the words they said, so I wormed my way into the foliage.

My head popped out beside the joey.

I was glad no one from funniest home videos was filming. The joey’s leafy head partially shielded me and I could peer through in places where the branches were dead and brittle.

Bond was eating a strawberry while Carl held a glass of champagne for her to sip as she nibbled on the chocolate tip. Frank was tanking down his champagne in gulps. He paid them no attention and scratched his bare brown stomach.

Frank burped and said, “So you think that’ll stop it.”