October 12 (Wednesday)
Kaser reviewed his detailed folders in his spacious but unadorned Nashville suite.
He had to be certain the actress’s belongings had been destroyed or currently rotted below acres of other landfill garbage. However, his September twenty-sixth visit at Saticoy Grocery provided a strong indication that scavengers who frequented that North Hollywood dumpster, among many other bins, had regularly hauled away any interesting items they’d found. It was anybody’s guess whether meth heads would assess those boxes of Harte family papers as interesting.
After that grocery visit, Kaser had gone to the nearby police precinct. Funny how cops will go out of their way to help someone working on a documentary for public television. Officer José Metoyer recalled speaking once or twice with that trio. He also remembered the type of van they drove, with a little light blue paint remaining. And Metoyer called a buddy in a Long Beach precinct who’d recalled the neighborhood they stayed in... and the name of the blonde girl, Sallie.
Among all the drugged-out dumpster divers in Bixby Heights, one particular skinny tramp wouldn’t stand out. But the three of them, together, did—primarily because they openly re-sold selected merchandise they’d scavenged. But that search for Sallie had yielded an unexpected dividend: at the address he’d expected to find the scrawny blonde girl, Kaser had found Ricks instead.
Kaser scanned the notes from his initial contact with Ricks on September twenty-sixth.
Assuming a drug bust, Ricks had been terrified, of course. But after Kaser settled him down enough to listen, Ricks seemed to understand it was a business transaction. This no-nonsense investigator was willing to pay for information.
When Kaser inquired about boxes of belongings, such as family paperwork, Ricks recalled an evening they’d found several dusty boxes, all of the same type, all in great condition. Two or three still had lids, but others were open and the contents had partly spilled out.
“What was inside the boxes?” Kaser had asked.
All Ricks remembered was pictures which they put in a real old, small suitcase.
Of particular interest was Ricks’s description of what the meth-fueled trio had done with those dumpster items. “We sometimes stopped off at a friend of Mutt’s. Whenever Mutt thought he’d be interested in a particular piece of furniture or whatever.”
Which items had been acquired by Mutt’s friend?
Ricks remembered it had been everything in that little suitcase. Mainly because the trio was in a hurry to get home and didn’t want to dawdle while the friend sifted through contents.
Ricks was a lucky find and a perfect candidate for some specific sub-contractor work Kaser had in mind. Not very bright, nor particularly talented, but pliable and obedient. He’d do anything for drugs. Plus, he had an obvious dislike of Mutt’s friend, a biker named Holder, and knew where the biker lived.
At that point in his late September research, Kaser had not yet realized the contact with that biker would end up in the Nashville area. Extremely convenient to have things come full circle. Kaser loved it when his planning and scheduling came together with some good, old fashioned serendipity.
Kaser continued re-reading his notes.
He had instructed Ricks not to kill the biker—just get in, get the suitcase, and get out. It was low-risk from Kaser’s point of view. If Ricks got himself caught, who’d believe anybody from out of state had hired him?
When Ricks broke in to Holder’s place, the suitcase was gone. But Ricks, as brain fried as he was, had the instinct to figure out the biker’s ex-girlfriend must have the luggage. He even found her address somehow. Dealing with druggies was fraught with too many variables: one never knew what fuel was going through their engines. In that instance, however, all went well.
Eager for the bonus Kaser promised, Ricks had been keenly disappointed not to recover the suitcase. And that made Ricks even more determined to get the luggage from Holder’s ex-girlfriend. Apparently, there was a score to settle with her as well. It was then Kaser decided to give Ricks another assignment: steal a car and drive to that middle Tennessee address.
Kaser smiled as he put down the folder on Ricks. Not confident enough that Ricks could even manage such a long distance drive, Kaser had, through a discreet agent, hired a young local man to break in to the girlfriend’s house in a little town east of Nashville. But he’d handled that entire transaction by phone and with a drop of the payment. No personal contact. Kaser didn’t want anybody within fifty miles of Nashville to see his face in connection with anything. Anyone who saw Kaser up close would have to take a very long sleep.
Kaser stroked, but did not re-open, his folder on Mutt and Sallie.
If Ricks had not provided the new address of his ex-associates, Kaser could never have found them, because when meth heads relocate, they’re usually getting away from someone or something. Kaser also had important business with them.
With Kaser barely noticing it, his left thumbnail lightly scraped the knuckle of his other thumb.
****
When Beth arrived home after her workday, Shane and his new Harley were waiting at the side of her driveway.
Inside, after they got comfortable, Shane briefed her on his unsuccessful efforts to locate Ricks.
“Maybe he’s already gone back home... or somewhere else.”
“Maybe. But my gut says he’s still here... and likely will stay real close ‘til he gets whatever he’s after.”
“Shane, do you still think somebody actually hired Ricks? I mean who would hire a meth head to travel across the country just to pester me?”
His shoulders sagged, likely with exhaustion. “Don’t know. But that person obviously has a particular reason for picking Ricks... instead of handling things himself.”
“But what do they want? It can’t be as simple as something in that little suitcase. Nothing in that batch of papers and pictures could be important enough for anybody to do all this... to two people, in two states, over a period of nearly two weeks.”
Shane straightened up on the sofa. “You know, Bethany, I think you hit on the key to this business.”
If so, she had no idea what it was.
“You and I are not the focus.” He stood and began pacing. “We’re just a small part of something much bigger and whoever’s pulling the strings is playing for a lot higher stakes than we’ve been able to imagine.”
Beth had to stop watching him because the pacing made her uneasy. “So, if we’re not the focus... what are we?”
He sat quite close and grasped her hand gently. “Bethany, I think we’re just a couple of loose ends. And whoever hired Ricks has figured out how to keep us where we can easily be located whenever he’s ready to tie things up.”
“Then Ricks’s boss has been, indirectly, pulling our strings for nearly two weeks.”
Shane covered their clasped hands with his other large paw. “That’s got to be it.”
“So you think Ricks knows you’re in town... looking for him?”
“His boss probably knows, but maybe he hasn’t told Ricks. About the only way Ricks could know is if he’d spotted me here. And that would mean he’s camped out in your neighborhood.”
Beth shuddered.
Shane patted her hand reassuringly. “If Ricks was prowling around Old Highlands, he’d stick out like a donkey in the Kentucky Derby.” Shane shook his head sadly. “Besides, I think the person who hired Ricks wants us both, Bethany. But I sure don’t understand why. It’s got to be about something in that overnighter.”
“But what? I’ve searched it from stem to stern. It’s musty old memorabilia. Nothing that would mean anything to anybody except the immediate family of that old actress.”
“Then we’re missing something, Bethany. Something in that case is real important to somebody with a lot of resources. And we are too, but only because we have the—”
“The thing that we don’t know we have.”
“Exactly.”
“Shane, this isn’t a spy movie. There’s no hidden microfilm in that luggage, no Swiss bank account numbers.” She felt tears coming on. “We didn’t ask for this. We don’t care about whatever it is. And who would we tell even if we could figure it out?”
“I don’t know, Bethany. But somehow I think we’d be in more danger if we did know what it was all about.”
“How could it get any worse?”
Shane didn’t respond, but he suddenly looked like hundreds of extra pounds had just landed on his broad shoulders. He slumped on the sofa and flipped through TV channels for at least ten minutes.
Later, when Shane got his hungry look, Beth went to the kitchen.
After they’d eaten two chicken pot pies from Beth’s microwave, Shane announced he had a couple more places to look for Ricks that evening. As Shane was about to depart, Connie arrived at Beth’s cottage.
Even though she already knew Shane was in town, Connie acted startled to see him. After a quick introduction, she began to flirt. “You don’t look anything like your picture.”
Shane looked down at himself, scanning all the way to his boots. “This is me. Might be an old picture.”
“You know... biker outlaws.”
“Connie!” Beth slapped her friend’s forearm.
“That’s okay, Bethany.” Then Shane turned to Connie. “Stereotype. Not every man on a bike acts like an outlaw anymore than every woman in a dealership office acts like a tart.” Shane’s grin was slow to develop.
Connie was briefly taken aback. Then she smiled. Eyes still on Shane, she addressed Beth. “Sweetie, you’ve got a live one here. Don’t let him loose or some dealership girl might jump your claim.”
Then Shane was speechless.
Beth grabbed Shane’s elbow protectively. “I’m gonna put you two in different corners or hose you down with cold water.”
“I’m leaving anyhow.” Shane inclined his head toward the front door. “Still looking for Ricks.” He reached for Connie’s hand and kissed her knuckles lightly. “Nice meeting you.” Then he winked. “I’ll check on you later, Bethany.” He was gone.
“Oooh... and my, my, my.” It seemed Connie might swoon. “I love it when a biker kisses my hand.”
“Get over it. He’s taken.”
“So you two are back together?”
Beth silently watched Shane disappear down Netterville Street. “Sometimes it feels like we weren’t ever apart.”
“I think I can understand what you mean.” Connie held the recently kissed fingers to her cheek... until Beth brushed them away.