As I entered my office and dropped my stuff on the desk Marsha Russo meandered in and plunked herself down across from me.
“You’re certainly Mr. Popularity this morning,” she said with a smirk. She produced a handful of phone messages.
“Call out any name you think of and I’ll match it with one of these babies.”
“There’s no need, Marsha. Just let me have the lot of them.”
“Damn. I was sure you’d enjoy the game.”
“You were wrong.”
“Cranky, are we?”
Marsha had been part of the Sheriff’s detail since even before my father’s first term. She was a robust woman, possessing great energy, a shtarker, as the Sheriff was fond of calling her, quick-witted and brandishing an unnervingly smart mouth. I was her frequent target, which tickled me. She kept me and pretty much everyone else on our toes.
“May I please have the messages?”
She forked them over. “Best you start with Lytell and Wilder. They’ve been jumping out of their respective skins.”
“Thank you.”
“Shall I wait around? This promises to be very entertaining.”
I glared at her.
“Okay, okay,” she said as she stood up. “Deprive me of my pleasure. See if I care.”
She closed the door behind her.
“It’s about time,” Skip Wilder said answering my call.
“What?”
“He’s very concerned.”
“The District Attorney?”
“Mr. Lytell, yes.”
“Put him on.”
“He’s not here. And I’m not here, either. Are you in your office?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll call you back.”
The call came after a ten-minute wait. “I’m outdoors. On a cell,” Wilder said.
“Because?”
“Let’s just say for a very good reason.”
I let that sink in for several moments. Why would the Assistant District Attorney step outside and call me on his cell phone?
“If he’s not there, I presume you’re empowered to speak for Mr. Lytell.”
“I am.”
“Then speak.”
“He’s very concerned.”
“You already said that.
“It required additional emphasis.”
“Emphasis noted.”
“This private property issue isn’t going away. Craig Leonard is petitioning the California Superior Court. He’s seeking an immediate injunction.”
“Point him in the direction of James Morrison.”
“He’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?”
“Morrison. Left the job. Moved out of town. No forwarding address. Buh-bye.”
“How could that be?”
“Off the record?”
I sighed.”Okay.”
“It appears as if a large chunk of money may have been dropped into the mix.”
“Meaning?”
“Petrov may have proffered a very significant financial option that in the past always managed to catch the attention of the Coastal Commissioners.”
“You think the Commissioners were bought off?”
“They have a history of it.”
“I thought Morrison was brought in to put an end to the corruption.”
“We all did.”
“But?”
“He resigned and retired.”
“And you think he caved?”
“Look, Buddy. We don’t know what happened. But something other than everyday business came into play. Not only did Morrison resign, but the Coastal Commission did a sudden about-face regarding their consideration of Petrov’s beach as a sanctuary. Why would they do that? Based on past performance, we suspect graft.”
“A safe assumption.”
“You think?”
“You’re right about Petrov.”
“Regarding the payoffs.”
“Yes. Which is why you’re outside on a cell phone.”
“You can’t be too cautious.”
“What do you advise?”
“Off the record?”
“If you insist.”
“I insist.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“We believe Team Petrov is going to reconstruct the fence. Maybe it would be better to leave it alone this time.”
“You mean allow closure of the access points?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“What?”
“No. I won’t leave it alone.”
“You need to hear me, Buddy. You can no longer count on the support of the Coastal Commission. The Sheriff’s Department is exposed. Best to leave it alone.”
“Was there anything else?”
“Don’t be goaded into making a mistake.”
“It wouldn’t be my first.”
“There’ll be reverberations.”
“Then I’ll wear anti-reverberation gear,” I said and hung up.
I leaned back in my chair. “Petrov,” I muttered to myself, “I guess he found a few takers.”