Dragon Fruit Read online

  ‘Yes and no.’ She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. ‘Steve’s my big brother. He’s not going to like hurt me or nothing. But he wants to control me, and he can do other stuff.’

  I knew I had to be cautious. I didn’t want Sylvia clamming up on me. I was quiet for a moment, watching a Black Phoebe flutter through the branches of a manzanita bush.

  ‘Other stuff? What exactly are you talking about?’

  ‘Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with my brother. He likes Del and that helps. See, I was dating a guy Steve didn’t like. The guy disappeared, and for three or four months after that Steve followed me everywhere. I mean everywhere. I couldn’t get away from him.’ She made a face. ‘You know, I never found out what happened to that guy.’

  ‘Steve’s not going to spy on you this morning. He’d stick out like a sore thumb if he followed us in here.’

  ‘No, this ain’t his style.’ Sylvia’s laughter sounded like bells – brass bells – ringing out over the quiet garden. ‘Anyways here’s the deal. A couple of days ago I heard Steve and Del talking. We were all at my mom’s place and I was helping her in the kitchen. They didn’t know I could hear.’

  Keep rolling, Hot Wheels, I thought. Don’t stop now.

  ‘They were talking about Chucha. Steve said she was fucking things up, getting in the way. That little girl, the one they’re looking for? He said she’s Chucha’s daughter – can you believe that?’

  ‘It’s true, Sylvia. And I might as well tell you: it’s my case, and I’m trying to find her for Chucha. Her name is Rosie Robledo.’

  ‘Oh, so now I get it. That’s why you wanted to talk to me.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I decided to lay my cards on the table. ‘Look. I’m sure the police are involved in smuggling drugs. The thing is, I don’t want anything to do with that business. All I want is to find Chucha’s daughter. But it’s possible the two things are connected. So maybe the cops kidnapped Rosie.’

  ‘What? That’s crap. I’m telling you, no.’ Sylvia twisted around on the bench to face me. Now I saw the tough girl, the one who’d walked the dusty roads of south Texas, stepping up.

  ‘Steve would not hurt a kid. Period. Got it? The same goes for Del. The drugs, yeah, I can see that. But kidnapping a little girl? No fucking way.’

  ‘OK. I believe you.’ The truth was, I suspected Steve Sanchez was capable of just about anything if pushed far enough. But maybe I could accept that he wasn’t usually so inclined.

  I decided to give my informant another prod, just to be sure. ‘Sylvia? Maybe Steve or Del did take Rosie. Not to hurt her, but to protect her, you know?’

  ‘No. Absolutely not.’ She folded her arms across her chest and assumed an expression of defiance. But now Hot Wheels Sanchez didn’t look all that sure.

  I steered Blue Boy into the empty carport space behind 101 West Mission. The Santa Barbara Investigation Agency was at long last operating in the black, and Gabi had decided we could afford to add a parking spot to our lease. Most of the time her big old station wagon filled it, but this was a Sparkleberry morning and Gabi was out swirling up the dust.

  As I lifted my Schwinn from the Camino’s bed, my office neighbor pulled in beside me. ‘Morning,’ she trilled. Always pleasant on the surface, Repo Woman indulged in her dark side at work.

  ‘How’s Deadbeat? Haven’t seen him out lately.’

  ‘Too wet and cold for my lil chick. He’s tucked up inside the office with a heating pad. Say, you’ve had some weird types around the place lately.’

  I bounced my bike down on its tires. ‘Are you talking about my clients, Val?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Repo Woman pouffed up her bouffant of split ends. ‘Let’s see, there was the woman that’s a man, I’ve seen that one around a few times. Then there was the wetback hiding in the bushes. And last night there was the tough guy, lounging on your back patio.’

  I swung my leg over the bike. ‘Somebody was hanging around my office last night?’

  ‘Yeah. I said I’d call the cops if he didn’t clear off, and he told me he is a cop and to mind my own business. Don’t know if I believed him.’

  ‘Did he have an accent?’ But I was pretty sure I already knew.

  ‘Southern. Maybe Texas. Yeah, he was Mexican but he sounded like a tough-talking Texan. Anyway, I gotta go. First of the month coming up, and I’m freakin’ busy this week.’

  ‘Business is booming, huh Val? Lots of families to toss out in the street?’

  ‘You mean scum, Zarlin. Deadbeats, leaches. At least I’m knocking them back instead of helping them stay out of jail.’

  Surely this was one issue I didn’t need to take on, not today. ‘No doubt there’s a need for your – ah – services.’

  ‘That’s right. Somebody’s got to do it and whadaya know,I’m the one.’ Repo Woman slammed her car door and strode off, into the breach.

  So. Steve Sanchez was taking notice of me. That wasn’t good, though it was interesting. My brain was whirling and I needed to talk, but Gabi wouldn’t be back till late in the afternoon.

  I set my bike on its old-fashioned stand, opened the Camino’s passenger door and fished around in the glove box for the fresh sack of horehound candy I’d purchased. I tucked the bag inside my jacket, hopped on my bike and tooled on down the drive.

  SEVENTEEN

  I turned left on Mission and pedaled down State to the water. Then I turned right. I spotted Charlie’s van from a distance: except for the Great American Novel, the Leadbetter lot was empty today.

  I could hear Charlie’s hacking cough from the far end of the beach lot. I wove my bike through the piles of seaweed and sand stranded by the latest storm and pulled up at the van.

  ‘Charlie? It’s Jaymie.’

  The coughing ceased. Then it started up again as a scarred hand tugged at the ancient hopsack curtain and slid open the aluminum window. ‘Jaymie?’ Hack, hack. ‘Jaymie, that you?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s me. Sounds like we need to get you back to the doc. You don’t want to develop pneumonia again.’

  ‘No docs, Jaymie. I told ya. All they do is put you in the hospital, then ya die. Hold on a minute, will ya?’

  I heard a mighty nose-blow. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘What, with a dose of pneumonia germs? I’ll pass.’

  ‘Ya sissy. Germs is good for ya. That’s what’s wrong with kids today, it’s the truth. Haven’t you heard? Kids don’t get dirty enough anymore.’ Another round of hacking ensued. ‘Why, I see these parents here at the beach. Always fussing, cleaning the kids. And the kids, they get a little dirty and bawl about it.’

  I tugged the sack of horehounds from my inside jacket pocket and poked the offering through the curtain.

  ‘Bless ya, Jaymie, bless ya.’

  ‘So, you were saying. The new generation is puny and weak.’

  ‘Aw, no. I’m exaggeratin’.’ Several sucking sounds. ‘Naw, I sound like an old fart. People don’t change much.’

  I stared out to the gray sea. A low fog obscured the islands. ‘They don’t, do they? Any improvements you think you see are nothing but varnish.’

  ‘Jaymie? You don’t sound so chipper today. It’s the missing baby, right? But maybe ya don’t want to talk. Last time you was here, I got the idea you don’t trust me no more.’

  I watched a fishing boat fight its way through the waves. A ragged scarf of gray birds trailed behind. ‘Charlie, come on. I trust you if I trust anybody. But … maybe that’s not saying much.’

  ‘You got something on your mind, spit it out. Else why did you come down here? It’s not exactly sun-bathin’ weather.’

  ‘Chucha Robledo. Did you hear?’

  ‘Not a thing. Been pretty much keepin’ the window shut lately.’

  ‘She’s up in Cottage, Charlie. She was beaten up bad. Brain damage. And I’m pretty sure it was the police.’

  Charlie was quiet. In the silence I could hear a sea lion barking. It seemed to be voicing some kind of complaint.

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nbsp; ‘I’m sorry, Jaymie. Sorry to hear it. That’s real bad.’

  ‘And that’s not all. It was Gabi’s boyfriend, Angel, who ratted on Chucha to the cops.’

  ‘What did he wanna go and do that for?’

  ‘He wanted to get Chucha deported. If you can believe it, Charlie, he says he did it for her daughter’s sake. He didn’t think Chucha would be a good parent.’

  ‘What the hell do you do with a idjit like that. Tell me somethin, Jaymie. What does the cowboy think about all this?’

  ‘Mike’s still not back.’ I felt a pang of worry but pushed it aside. ‘I’m on my own.’

  ‘Got any ideas?’

  ‘Yeah. But they don’t add up.’

  ‘But you are takin’ a look at the ones who protect and serve.’

  ‘First on my list. Everyone keeps telling me cops would never kidnap a kid. The thing is, though, they’re involved in the marijuana smuggling. I’m sure of that. And who’s to say what they’d do if they thought their enterprise was threatened? Not all of them, no. Not even most of them. But it would only take one.’

  ‘Tell me somethin’. The little one that died on the way across. How do you think she figures in the story?’

  ‘Oh God, I don’t know. I honestly don’t.’ I slipped my hood over my head and drew the strings. ‘It’s cold down here, Charlie. Not where you should be hanging, not with that bark.’

  Charlie waved my comment away. ‘Anything else botherin’ ya?’

  ‘There is something,’ I admitted.

  ‘Figured as much. Shoot. If ya trust me, that is.’

  I ignored his dig. ‘It’s about a woman named Laura Brautigan. She’s a priest. A Catholic priest.’

  ‘You’re pullin’ my leg.’

  ‘No, I’m not. It’s a long story.’

  ‘Wait a minute—’ Charlie took time out to cough. Then I heard the crinkling of cellophane as he unwrapped another horehound drop. ‘Is that the one we call Sister Laura? Gives out sandwiches down here a couple days a week? Real pretty long silver hair, looks a little bit like an angel.’

  ‘Yeah. She’s the one.’

  ‘You gonna try and tell me she kidnapped the little girl? Sister Laura’s the last one I’d pick.’

  ‘I know. But she’s got a record, Charlie. A record for kidnapping.’

  ‘What? All I can say is, it musta been for a good cause. Sorry, I’m not budging on this. I know a little somethin’ about people, don’t forget.’

  ‘Yeah. I can’t disagree with you.’ I turned and looked back down Cabrillo Boulevard. The hotel parking lots were mostly empty. A Mission Linen truck had pulled up in front of one, the Seaside Motel. A man in a white uniform and cap scurried out of the motel office. He was bent double under a huge sack of dirty laundry.

  ‘What about clues,’ Charlie was saying. ‘Good old-fashioned clues, ya know? Got any a those?’

  ‘There’s the dragon fruit, I guess.’ I shrugged. ‘Don’t know how that fits in. And the silver cross. Other than that, not much.’

  ‘Then here’s what you gotta do. Peel your eyes for what looks outta place. Kinda funny or odd. Jaymie? You’re maybe trying too hard to figure things out.’

  ‘Just the facts, ma’am?’

  ‘You got it. Now, as it happens I got something myself to run by ya. Something I been thinking about ever since you dropped by the other day.’

  ‘Shoot.’

  ‘It’s gonna rock ya. Are you ready to hear it?’

  ‘Come on, Charlie. You’ve got my attention.’

  ‘See, I was thinking about Brodie. Then I thought about Sideview, what he saw out there at More Mesa. And I got to wondering.’ Charlie stopped to cough. ‘Wondering if your brother didn’t see something like that too.’

  My chest tightened. ‘You mean the panga boat, don’t you.’

  ‘That’s what I mean all right. Now Brodie, he was a quick one. If Brodie saw something like that, he’d figure it out. Off meds like he was, he coulda said something about it. Coulda? No, woulda. To somebody he shouldn’t.’

  I wasn’t guarding myself. Tears sprang to my eyes.

  ‘Jaymie, come on. You ain’t crying, are ya?’

  ‘No way. What good would that do?’

  ‘Maybe I shouldn’t a told ya. Anyway, it’s just a wild idea.’

  ‘No.’ I swung a leg over my bike. ‘No, Charlie. It’s more than that.’

  As I pedaled out of the lot, I glanced over at a dark gray older model BMW. It had pulled in while Charlie and I were talking, and parked with its nose facing away from the water. Why would someone turn his back on a 180-degree ocean view?

  I tried to get a look at the person scrunched down in the driver’s seat, but all I could make out was a man’s head bent over a copy of the Independent. Was he, to use Charlie’s words, ‘outta place’? Maybe so: he’d caught my eye. Or maybe I was paranoid and he was just a guy who wanted a little peace and quiet.

  The wind off the water had turned bitterly cold. I rode hard to warm up, over to the marina and out onto the breakwater. A row of flags snapped in the wind. Midway along, a green wave washed over the wall, dousing my right side in icy brine.

  When I reached the end of the breakwater I halted, straddled my bike, and gazed out over the restless sea.

  The fact was I couldn’t afford to think about Brodie. I had to focus on Chucha’s daughter. Later on, I promised myself. Later on I would tend to my brother.

  My cell rang in my pocket. I’d barely heard the sound over the crash of the waves against the breakwater wall.

  ‘Gabi, hey. Is something wrong?’

  ‘Wrong? You tell me, ’cause I just got a message from you. The message said you wanted a call.’

  ‘Huh?’ I shifted the phone to my other ear. ‘You’ll need to speak up. The surf’s running high.’

  ‘I said you sent me a message Miss Jaymie,’ she shouted. ‘Not on the phone or a text or anything. The old way, from the brain.’

  ‘From the – oh. You mean you got a message from my mind to yours.’

  ‘That’s right.’ She continued to yell. ‘It said to call you. And that’s all I know.’

  ‘I didn’t send you a message, Gabi. But I’m glad you called.’

  ‘See? You did send a message, even if you do not know it. Your brain sent the message, not you.’

  Time to move on to another subject. ‘I have stuff to tell you. When will you be back in the office?’

  ‘Not till late. Maybe even not till the morning. I’m sorry, Miss Jaymie. But I have three houses today. And everybody is so dirty this week.’

  ‘Gabi …’ A gull dipped and screeled. ‘I need you more than they do.’ I sounded petulant, I realized, like a cranky three-year-old. ‘Never mind.’

  ‘Miss Jaymie, that sounded like a seagull. Are you down at the beach?’

  ‘I’m on the breakwater, at the marina. I’m wet, and it’s cold and miserable down here. Suits my mood.’

  ‘But that is no good. You might get sick. Come and visit me, I’m only a few blocks away. I’m at Miss Francie’s house on the Mesa. Miss Francie is the one who named her baby for a bear. The one with the husband who has a girlfriend, but Miss Francie don’t want to know about it.’

  ‘So how do you know he has a girlfriend?’

  ‘I know ’cause I hear him talking to her on the phone all the time.’

  Stupid man, assuming the maid couldn’t hear. ‘We need to talk in private, Gabi. It will have to wait.’

  ‘Nobody’s home. Ursula, the little bear, she is on a date. I’m not joking, Miss Jaymie. Miss Francie writes all the appointments down on the calendar. Ursula, she is one year old. But she is very popular. She has a date to play maybe four times every week.’

  ‘OK. But first, I’m going home to get changed. Then I’ll come by. What’s the address?’

  ‘1451 Las Ondas. Come to the kitchen door by the driveway, OK?’

  I stopped off at Mrs McMenamin’s on my way up El Balcon.When I opened the bac
k gate I discovered Dexter and Blanca lying side-by-side on the grass, watching the clouds go by. The yard looked a little torn up.

  ‘I hope you two have been behaving yourselves.’ I sawMrs McMenamin through her kitchen window and waved. Then I crossed the yard, opened the kitchen door and leaned in.

  ‘I had to come back home for a minute,’ I explained. ‘Is Dexter driving you crazy?’

  Mrs McMenamin placed a hand on her crossword. ‘What? Oh my no, Jaymie. Blanca is so happy, and I love watching them play through the window. No trouble at all.’

  Most likely she couldn’t see what had happened to her landscaping. ‘Right. I’ll come and get him at four.’

  ‘We’ll be here, dear. He and Blanca will be inside by then. It’s so cold today, and I’m going to bring them in after my nap.’

  ‘No, you can’t live here,’ I told Dex on my way back out through the yard. ‘See you this afternoon, bud.’ The wind was picking up, and I realized I was now chilled to the bone.

  I pedaled hard on the hill to warm up, then dropped my bike in the breezeway. I let myself in through the front door.

  It was quiet inside, cozy and welcoming. I went to my bedroom and peeled off my wet clothes. I was damp to the skin.

  My injured shoulder ached and I was weary. I looked at my bed. I’d told Gabi I wouldn’t be long, but what the hell. I slipped in between the sheets, doubled up my thin old pillow under my head, and curled into the hollow in my mattress.

  I tried to let my worries about Rosie and Chucha go. I took in a deep breath, and with it came Mike’s fragrance. I shut my eyes, and as I dozed off I thought of sunburnt grass, sweat, and hot sun.

  Not long after, I woke with a start. For some reason, my muscles were tense. Then I heard it: the crunch of footsteps on the gravel drive. Farther away, down at Mrs McMenamin’s, I could hear Dexter barking.

  I lay still, listening. My bike was lying on its side in the breezeway, so whoever was out there would guess I was home. I was naked. Where had I left my damn clothes? They were in a pile, I realized, on the floor at the foot of the bed.

  The thing was, I hadn’t bothered to pull the drape across the bedroom window.