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  She appeared in the kitchen doorway, a big smile on her face. “And how are you today, Miss Jaymie? Very good I hope?”

  “I’m OK.”

  “OK? That’s not good enough. Look at this beautiful day. You should be—”

  “Sex is great, isn’t it? Especially when you haven’t had it for a very, very long time.”

  Gabi tsked. “You shouldn’t talk like that, Miss Jaymie. Me and Angel, it’s not about sex. I’m just so happy, that’s all. I’m sorry you’re grouchy, but maybe you’ll get more happy just being around me.” She beamed and returned to the front office. I heard her begin to hum a little tune.

  “I was perfectly happy,” I called, “until a person who is way too happy, who overdoes this happiness thing, walked in. By the way, I met your boyfriend this morning.”

  I thought the term “boyfriend” would cause her to bridle. In the not-so-long-ago past, it would have. But not now.

  “Oh, did you?” Gabi called back. “Good. I wanted Angel to meet you, and I wanted you to meet him. He’s nice, huh?”

  “He is. Maybe too nice for you?”

  “You know, Miss Jaymie, in the beginning that’s what I thought. But then I said, this is my destiny, Angel and me together, so why worry about it?”

  I groaned and let my head fall to my chest.

  Gabi reappeared in the doorway. “Miss Jaymie, maybe you should think about Mike. Think about destiny, what I’m saying to you.”

  “Let’s get to work, shall we?” I hopped off the sill. “I’m ready to get serious, and I need your advice.”

  Gabi looked at the wall dotted with cards, then looked back at me. “I’m all business, Miss Jaymie. But don’t forget what I said.”

  * * *

  A yellow and peach dawn unfolded over East Beach. I stood on the wharf and watched the show: the soft colors opened like origami, gradually revealing a fresh-faced sun.

  The day promised to be another August scorcher. The dewy freshness would evaporate quickly, and the cheery sun would morph into a fiery single-minded orb.

  I heard a vehicle approach, clunking along the timbers of the dock. A white delivery van turned a corner and pulled up at the back of the aquarium. Tri-County Restaurant Supply read the sign on the side, in bold red letters.

  A stocky, silver-haired man in his late forties hopped down from the driver’s side, went around to the back, and lifted the roll-up door. He wore khaki chinos and a navy blue golf shirt, and he moved with impatience, in spite of the early hour. I watched as he unloaded a stack of boxes, carried them over to the back door and set them on the ground, then punched in a code.

  “Mr. Tactacquin?”

  Caught by surprise, John Tactacquin spun around and glared at me just as the door chirped and clicked open.

  “I’m Jaymie Zarlin.” I stepped up to him. “Mind if we talk?”

  “Talk? Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Jaymie Zarlin. A private investigator. I’d like to ask you one or two questions, if you don’t mind.”

  He bent down, picked up the boxes, and started to back into the hall. “What about?”

  “Skye Rasmussen.”

  “No way.” He shoved through the door and let it fall shut. But not before I’d stuck my foot in the gap. I gave the heavy door a shove and stepped through, into the dimly lit space.

  “You aren’t supposed to be in here.” Tactacquin continued on down the hall. I followed him through the entry foyer to the elevator. “You could get yourself into trouble, pushing your way in like that.”

  The man’s hands were full. I stepped around him and pressed the button. “And you could get into some trouble too, Mr. Tactacquin. Since you aren’t supposed to know the code. You got it from Delia, I suppose?”

  He was silent as the elevator door slid open. He stepped in and I followed. The elevator was small, and John Tactacquin and I were standing close, eye-to-eye.

  “So I get going early in the morning, so what? You seem to know a helluva lot. What do you want?”

  I pressed the button to go up. “I want you to tell me where you were, between the hours of five and ten P.M. on the night Skye Rasmussen died.”

  He gave me a disgusted look. “You sound like an actor on TV. A rerun detective show.”

  “I’m not much of an actor. But I’d appreciate it if you’d answer the question.” The door opened on the second floor.

  “Sure, why not?” Tactacquin stepped out of the elevator and headed for the snack bar. He circled the rope closing off the space, went up to the counter, and set down the boxes.

  “I started early like every day, knocked off around three. And then I went home.”

  “Can somebody at home vouch for that?” I wasn’t going to tell him I knew Taryn. He’d find out soon enough.

  He was quiet as he wrote on a pad attached to a clipboard. He ripped off the invoice and tucked it between two of the boxes. “My wife and daughter. Good enough for you?” His voice was careful now, controlled. Something told me John Tactacquin had just lied.

  “I’ll take your word for it, for now.”

  He slipped the clipboard and pad under his arm and looked at me, hard. “Who are you working for?”

  “The Rasmussens. Melanie and Dave.”

  “Figures.” He shook his head. “So you know all about the time I went by their place. You think I’ve got a motive, is that it? Suppose I do, in a way. Their son got my girl pregnant, then he bullied her into having an abortion. Yeah, I admit it. For a few weeks last fall, I could have murdered the kid.”

  “Those are strong words, Mr. Tactacquin.”

  He turned his back on me and started to walk away, then stopped. “Look. You’re right, I’m not supposed to be in here before the aquarium opens. If you want to ask me anything else, it needs to be outside.”

  I squinted into the sun as we exited the gloomy interior, then followed Tactacquin to the rail at the edge of the dock.

  “Listen, before you say anything.” Tactacquin folded his arms across his chest and stared out along East Beach. “Believe it or not, I’m sorry about the kid. I heard how he suffered. And I’ll tell you, my daughter is really broke up. If she cared that much about him, then he must have had a good side.”

  “What about the boy’s grandfather? Do you think he has a good side?”

  “What, Rod Steinbach? He’s an asshole.” He leaned over the rail and spat into the water.

  “Steinbach seems to have rubbed a lot of people the wrong way.”

  “I don’t know about that. But I do know he threatened to take away my contract when it comes up for renewal.”

  “Any reason?”

  “Nope. No reason given. The jerk just wanted to light a fire under my ass. See me squirm.”

  I was quiet for a moment. I watched as three or four gleaming dolphins dashed parallel to the beach, cavorting in the surf.

  “Here’s the thing, Mr. Tactacquin. I’d like to believe you. But something tells me your alibi won’t check out. You might as well tell me the truth. Save me bothering your daughter and wife.”

  “All right, all right. I was home … at eight.” The words came out slowly. “Before that I was out in Goleta. Visiting a friend.”

  “A lady friend?”

  He hesitated, a few beats too long. “Naw, a guy. We usually have a few beers after work, on Friday afternoons.”

  Oh sure, it was a guy. “Will this friend confirm what you’ve said?”

  “If I ask him to. Which I’m not going to do. This is all bullshit.”

  “You might have to ask him to speak up, whether you want to or not.”

  “That enough? Done poking into my life?” He started to walk away. Then he turned back.

  “I love my wife, all right? Our boy Kenny … he’s in prison, it’s a mess. Her life isn’t easy right now.”

  Then quit cheating on her, I wanted to say.

  But I didn’t say it. Because it isn’t my job to preach the truth.

  My job is to tr
y to uncover it.

  * * *

  That afternoon, my undercover agent reported in.

  “The aquarium’s cool,” Claudia announced with an airy wave of her hand. “Me and Vanessa, we sneak out and smoke under the pier.” She lay back on the couch and crossed her legs at the ankles. “Yeah, it’s working out good.”

  Gabi peered around her computer. “You don’t look like that when you go there, I hope?”

  “Look like what?” Claudia smoothed her wife-beater shirt over her baggy shorts. “They think I’m tough.” She pulled out her Smith & Wesson, popped the blade, and cleaned under a fingernail. “See, they heard how I carved up that prick Stellato with my knife a few months ago.”

  “Put that nasty thing away,” Gabi snapped. “This is a place of—”

  “Yeah, yeah, a place of busy-ness. And don’t be callin’ my dad’s knife nasty.” Claudia rolled her head to look at me. “Jaymie, can’t just you an’ me talk? I’m here to make my report.”

  I dropped into the hot seat. “Gabi’s part of the operation, Claudia. You know that.”

  “Fuh. Then I’m outta here.” She rolled over and hopped to her feet. “I’ll make my report on the phone.”

  “No, tell me now. And please don’t forget who’s boss around here.”

  “Boss?” Claudia squealed. “I thought we were like, equal. I don’t have no boss over me. I—”

  “I, I, I.” Gabi pushed back her chair. “I’m going out for my coffee break so I don’t have to listen to this broken record.”

  “Record? What’s that, somethin’ from your childhood? Caveman times?”

  “Sorry, Miss Jaymie. I gotta leave you alone with her. I just can’t take it no more.”

  “Claudia, you cut it out. And Gabi, don’t let this kid chase you off.”

  “Chase me off? I’m just thinking positively positive and taking care of myself!”

  Claudia cackled. “What’s with the ‘positively positive’ caca?”

  “Positively Positive: Self-Talk-n-Walk Your Way to Fulfillment.” Gabi picked up her bag and sat it on the desk. “It’s a very important book. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

  “Sure. Leave it back in the bathroom, will you? You’re just about out of toilet paper.”

  Gabi grabbed her bag and stormed out the door.

  “Chased her off, didn’t I!” Claudia tipped back her head and yipped like a coyote.

  “Claudia, I wish you’d make an effort with Gabi.” I put a hand to my mouth: I sounded just like a mom.

  “I do make an effort, man. If I didn’t, you’d know it. If I didn’t—”

  “Hey, back on topic. The aquarium—what’s going on?”

  “Hold on, it’s too dark in here.” Claudia went over to the side window and snapped up the blind, which Gabi had closed to keep out the withering heat. “Whoa, it’s that bird!” She lifted the sash and Deadbeat, tethered to his outside perch, let out a god-awful scream.

  Claudia turned to me with a grin. “Who owns that mofo?”

  “The repo woman next door.” I was beginning to understand just how Gabi felt.

  “He’s gonna be barbecued chicken out there in the sun.” She screamed back at the parrot, then slammed the window shut.

  “Claudia?” I tried again. “So, you’re in with Vanessa.”

  “Yeah, I’m in. We do weird things when nobody’s looking. Like, we gave Legs a jar of anchovies.” She laughed. “You shoulda seen how fast that octopus opened that sucka.”

  “Don’t get yourself kicked out, will you.” Oops, there it was again: June Cleaver speaking out of my mouth.

  “You don’t get it, Jaymie. If I got kicked out of the aquarium, that’d be cool. It would just get me in better with the piñata party crowd.”

  “So there really is something called the Piñata Party?”

  “Oh yeah there is, and that’s what I want to tell you. I got invited. They’re having a end-of-summer party, one last blast before most of them go away to college. It’s Friday night, and I’m goin’. Dale, dale, dale.”

  “Excellent work, but I’m not so sure you should go. What’s it all about?”

  “Don’t know yet. I kinda asked, but Vannie—that’s Vanessa—she said I’d find out on Friday. Bitch said, ‘All will be clear to you.’” Claudia picked up the vase holding Gabi’s most recent rose, an exquisite bloom called Blue Satin. “Somebody bringin’ you flowers?”

  “Not me. Gabi. She has a boyfriend.”

  “You’re shittin’ me,” Claudia shrieked. “He must be one messed-up dude.” She set the vase back on the desktop. “So, the piñata party. What am I looking for again?”

  “Something happened there, back in January. Something involving Skye Rasmussen, maybe a fight. I want you to find out what it was all about.”

  “No worries. That it?”

  “You need to be careful. The police called Skye’s death an accident, but like I’ve told you, he was pushed. It could have been murder.”

  For a moment, Claudia didn’t look so cocky. I knew she was thinking of her sister Lili, killed just three months earlier. I got up, walked over to the kid, and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “You OK?”

  “I’m gonna help you catch the asshole who did it,” she muttered.

  “Good. But here’s the thing: you’re not staying past midnight. If you do, I’ll come in after you.”

  “Tough lady, huh?”

  “You’ve got that right. And if a problem comes up, anything at all, give me a ring. Understand?”

  “It’s a party, not World War Three.” Claudia hitched up her baggy shorts. “One thing you don’t gotta do, is worry about me.”

  Chapter Nine

  I steered the rental car up the packed gravel road to Little Panoche Ranch. Outside my sealed-up windows, the air was blistering. The car’s thermometer read 107.

  Without warning, a stoplight-red farm bike shot out of the scrub, swerved in front of me, and careered up the drive. The dark-haired boy on the bike turned in the seat and waved.

  I followed him in through the gate decorated with deer antlers and up to the sprawling one-story redwood ranch house. When I switched off the engine, fine dust rose in billows around the car.

  The gangly kid climbed off the bike and walked over as I got out. My jaw dropped when I saw him up close. He was about fourteen, already six feet tall, and he looked exactly like Mike must have looked at that age. He was dark in complexion, and his eyes were narrow, his cheekbones high.

  “Hi! Are you Uncle Mike’s girlfriend?”

  “Ah, no, you’ve got the wrong girl. Your uncle and I are just friends. I’m Jaymie Zarlin.”

  The kid grinned. “Yeah, you’re the one. Grandpa says—” Then he looked embarrassed, probably realizing he was saying too much. “Anyway, I’m Tyler.”

  “Hey, Tyler.” I smiled up at him. “You staying here at the ranch with your grandfather?”

  “Yeah. We’ve been up here most of the summer. But school starts next week, so my mom said—”

  “Don’t listen to a word that boy says,” Bill Dawson boomed down from the big wrap-around porch. “Jaymie, how are ya?” His voice was strong, but he held on to the rail with one hand and leaned on a cane with the other.

  I slammed the car door and walked up the steps, Tyler in tow. “Fine, Bill. How about you?”

  He extended a hand. I took it and he tightened his grip. “I’m doing all right. Feel that? Still strong. Not goin’ anywhere in a hurry, don’t care what those sawbones got to say.”

  “Glad to hear it, Bill.”

  “But what am I doing, blocking the doorway? Give your keys to the boy here. He’ll park your car over there in the shade.” He looked hard at his grandson. “Don’t go takin’ that car on a joy ride, son.”

  “No way,” Tyler said with a grin.

  We stepped into the dark, cool living room. Shep, Bill’s old border collie, struggled up from his blanket in the corner and hobbled over for a pat.

  “H
ear that roar? Air-conditioning,” Bill groused. “Damn thing’s been runnin all summer long. Trudy had it installed. Goddamn waste of money. Come on through, she’s in the kitchen.”

  Trudy Freitas looked up from the chopping board. Again, I felt that frisson of recognition: she was nearly as tall as Mike, and had his gold-flecked brown eyes.

  “Hi, Jaymie. Good to meet you. Welcome to my workstation.” She laughed. “Ever since we came up to the ranch, I’ve hardly stepped out of the kitchen.”

  “That’s where a woman belongs.” Bill looked over at me and winked.

  “Careful, Dad. I’ll throw a ripe tomato at you.” Trudy looked like Mike but she was different, I realized. Mike had a quietness about him, a holding-in. She bubbled up like a spring.

  “Good to meet you, Trudy.” Just then I heard a clatter of feet behind me on the oak floor. I turned to see two girls, both around eight years of age, framed in the doorway.

  “Jaymie, meet the twins, Peggy and Perlina,” Trudy said. “Girls, this is Ms. Zarlin.”

  “Just Jaymie,” I corrected. “Hi, girls.”

  “Hi,” they chimed.

  “Peggy’s named after their grandma, and Perry’s named after their great-grandma,” Bill explained.

  “Are your eyes really two different colors?” the shorter one asked.

  “Perry, for goodness’ sake,” Trudy scolded.

  “It’s fine.” I smiled. “I don’t mind one bit. Yes, one’s kind of green and the other one’s blue.”

  “Are you staying with us? Uncle Mike’s coming up tonight,” Peggy said. “We always make a campfire when he comes.”

  “Yeah, and cook s’mores,” Perry added.

  “Sorry. I have to be up in San Francisco at four.”

  “Are you sure? We’d love to have you,” Trudy urged.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got an appointment.” Thank goodness. If I hadn’t made that appointment with Steven Steinbach, I’d have had to invent something. S’mores with Mike under the stars was not something I felt I could handle just now.

  “These two girls are big trouble, you better watch out for ’em.” Bill eased himself into a kitchen chair. I could see how much effort it cost him, how weary he was. “What you two been doing upstairs, paintin’ your toenails? You’re too young for that.”