The Catalina Cabal Read online

  At one time he was on the staff of the commanding General of NATO, but got caught up in a political snafu, and was asked to retire when the married General that he was protecting got caught fooling around with one of the native housekeepers.

  Now in his mid-thirties he was living the good life travelling the world first class with a bona fide star. Gale was his second client after retiring from the military. The first was an infamous rock and roll guitar player from England who liked to get out and party, and needed someone to get him out of trouble most nights. He liked to get drunk and start a fight and then lean on Tony to save him. That got old fast and Tony went looking for a client who was better behaved.

  I interviewed him with Gale, and she hired him on the spot. When I shook his hand to congratulate him, it felt like I was shaking hands with an anvil.

  “You know Badger,” he told me. “Rock stars and generals are a lot alike, they love the power and the attention and love to be on stage and be in control, but when they get in trouble they look for someone else to save them.”

  I admired him, he was a no-nonsense guy and I knew Gale would be in good hands with him in charge of her security. But he had one fatal flaw as far as I was concerned.

  “I don’t like boats,” he said while we planned the trip last week. “Toss me out of a plane with or without a parachute, or let me rappel out of a helicopter into an enemy machine gun nest at night in the rain, but keep me away from boats, I get seasick just looking at them.” And apparently from what I’d heard, Cody had scoffed at that. A big tough Army Ranger afraid of a little bitty boat.

  Now however, after being dragged behind my boat like a tuna on a line, Cody’s tune had changed. “I’m taking the flight back with you,” he told Tony flat out as he sipped his beer.

  I stirred the club soda on ice and smiled. “You all are. Amber and I are staying on the island for a couple of days to unwind.”

  “Now you’re talking,” laughed Cody. “No offense Badger, but I don’t think I’m a boat guy either.”

  “No skin off my knuckles.”

  “We had a change of plans,” said Tony. “Gale needs to be in Los Angeles early tomorrow morning for an interview, so we’re leaving tonight after the party. I kept our chartered helicopter here, we leave at seven tonight after her gig.”

  Cody smiled and let out a sigh of relief.

  I took another sip of the club soda and got down to business. “Listen Tony, it’s about an hour until you head up the hill with Gale. I think it’s best for me to go in ahead of you to check the edges of the place and get a feel for it. But let’s talk security for a bit if you don’t mind. I’m just curious how you’re doing.”

  “Fire away.” He shrugged, thinking better of that as he noted the bulge of the gun inside my jacket. “I mean fire away with questions.”

  “I don’t want to get too inquisitive with all the little details of your operation, I just want to get an overall feel for how you’re coping as a team. Having a security firm protecting you is like being on a football or baseball team: you all have to work together and be on the same page to be successful and stay out of trouble. To stay in one piece. To stay alive. Since I’m connected to Gale in a way, I’m just wondering how she’s doing overall with your set-up?”

  “She’s okay. As you’re well aware, it’s been about half a year since she was kidnapped and you rescued her, and I don’t think the trauma of that experience will ever completely leave her. Nor should it. She’s coming to the realization that she’ll never be completely and totally safe in this world and she’s made adjustments both mental and physical to enable her to live a solid life. She’s a big star now, it’s her choice, she could have crawled under a rock and gone underground, but she’s out there in the public eye and there’s always going be some wacko lurking in the shadows. But she’s determined not to be a victim, and I don’t think she’ll ever allow herself to be taken again. No way. She doesn’t want us hovering around her at her home when she’s not touring. Sure, we have the perimeter secured and monitored at all times, but we’re nowhere near the main house. When she’s out on tour we’re close by, on-stage and in the dressing areas. When she’s out in public, out on the town or in a crowd situation, we’re right there at her elbow. Otherwise she wants space, she needs space to be secure in her own mind with her own ability to protect herself, and that has been a key to her recovery. It’s been empowering to her and it’s good to see.”

  “What’s her training like, and what type of personal protection does she carry?”

  “Well, she’s learning a few different martial arts. Karate, Jujitsu, Krav Maga. She carries triple action pepper spray with mace and a marking dye, and a little Glock G-42 subcompact. It’s six inches long and an inch wide and she can carry it in her purse or holster it. It’s small and indiscreet, and while it doesn’t have a lot of long distance stopping power, if someone is up close and trying to harm her, they won’t last long.”

  “What about a little hand held taser? I’ve always had great luck with those, saved my butt a few times. You can incapacitate someone quicker with one of those than a bullet.”

  “She’s afraid of the electricity. We tried one out, a little palm sized one, and she wanted to see what it was like to get zapped, so she went ahead and zapped herself and, of course, fell on the ground and was unable to move for a couple of minutes. She didn’t like the thought of accidently jolting herself into paralysis. She feels she has it covered with the spray and the gun and the martial arts, and I don’t want to argue with her.”

  “I’ve got the taser part covered,” said Cody with a sly smile, and reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black object that looked like a cell phone. It was square and fit in the palm of his hand, with two metal prongs at one end and he pressed a switch on the side and a blue electric current crackled loudly between the prongs. “Eight hundred thousand volts should do the trick.”

  Some people at a nearby table heard the crackle and looked over at us. I scowled at Cody.

  “Put it away,” I told him. He saw the look in my eye and slipped it back in his pocket. “Lesson number one with weapons, always keep them a secret, don’t ever let anyone know what you have, and never ever pull one out in public unless you’re going to use it.”

  Cody’s face turned red. “Sorry.”

  “Two reasons,” I said. “First and most important, if there’s a bad guy scouting you out and he sees what type of protection you have, he can plan for it, figure out a way around it. And second, if a cop sees you and thinks you’re a threat, you’re gonna be the guy getting tasered, or he might just shoot you, or at the very least cuff you and dis-arm you, and get an explanation later. Either way you’re out of business. So while we’re on the subject Cody, do you have a gun?”

  He shook his head. “No gun.” He looked sullen, his face went slack, looked down at the table, and I waited for him to continue. “I’m a felon and on probation, I did something stupid when I was a kid so I can’t get caught with a gun in my possession or I go straight to jail for five years.”

  I didn’t ask what stupid thing he did, and he didn’t offer it. It was none of my business. I was pretty damn stupid when I was a kid, and I was also pretty lucky to still be alive in spite of my stupidity.

  I turned back to Tony. “What about Kalia, how does she fit with your team?”

  “She’s the inside person mostly, close to Gale, they get along well, and in a way are best friends. I’m on the outside, on the perimeter. I like it that way. Kind of like you from what I hear.”

  It was true, I did like to be out on the perimeter, identify and take out trouble long before it got anywhere near the client. In a lot of ways it was safer to be on the outside without anyone knowing who you were, but ever since I went solo I had to revise the way I operated.

  “I’ve changed my job description. I provide a full service security package from the inside out with the boats as the vehicles of choice. People want to get out on the water
and have some fun, maybe take a ride down to Mexico for the week, or cruise out here to Catalina, or some of the other west coast ports and visit some bars and restaurants without fear of someone jumping them from the shadows and robbing them on the dock. That’s where I come in. Sort of the poor man’s secret service detail. Plus I like being on the water. In a way, the ocean is like a perimeter if you know how to use it.”

  I put a twenty dollar bill under my glass and got up to leave. “I’ll see you at the show.”

  Sliding my mirrored sunglasses over my nose, I watched the entire room and the mirror behind the bar through the corners of my eyes to see if anyone was paying unusual attention to my leaving. All seemed clear.

  Time to go to work.

  I decided to walk up the hill to the house rather than take a cab. It was only about half a mile to the Zane house, and of course it was uphill, but that made it all the better since I could walk slower without anyone thinking it was unusual, and take in more of the sights.

  Walking lets you observe things you normally wouldn’t pick up if you were driving or riding in a car. You can hear and smell and even feel your surroundings, and if you pay close attention to the peripheral view you may see something that can make the difference between living and dying.

  I set my face as neutral and un-aggressive as I could while I walked. I didn’t want someone to look at me and think, hey that guy’s angry, stranger danger, etc. I was a happy guy. In fact I even whistled a little Christmas tune, tis the season to be jolly, while I strode up the hill and greeted with an easy smile anyone who crossed my path.

  The road went straight up the hill past small, quaint homes that were squashed tight together with maybe ten feet of space between the rooflines. Most were newly painted, with little porches in the front, no grass lawns since water was scarce on the arid island, but mostly terra-scape with tough drought hardy plants and flowering cacti.

  I took a turn onto Chimes Tower Road and headed up the slight incline that zigged and zagged.

  The Zane house was set out on its own, on a steep rocky hill overlooking the harbor. There were no homes on either side or behind it but a road that wound around it led to the next cove over. There was a small garage below the home that looked like it had room to park about ten cars. Their plan was to shuttle everyone to the party from a central parking area set up in the center of the town.

  I continued up the road as it wound around the hill until I was headed east. The east side of the home, faced the road, had a concrete stairway leading up to the pool deck where I assumed the party would be held. Two small catering trucks were parked next to the staircase and workers were hustling supplies up to the deck.

  I walked all the way past the home until I couldn’t see it anymore. Above me I could hear the caterers getting the party ready, tables and chairs being moved into place, sound systems being checked.

  The hill was composed of light brown loose and rocky soil covered with scrub brush and cactus. Someone could scrabble up this way and enter the party, I made a note to keep an eye on this route when I was up on the deck. I walked a couple-hundred feet farther to a hairpin turn in the road, and the scenic overlook.

  To the left was Descanso Bay and the beach club spread out in front of another crystal clear cove. Down the hill and over a steep cliff was the top of the adobe red round roof of the Avalon Casino and Theatre, and to the right was the harbor. I could see the Sugar riding safe and secure at her mooring along with all the other boats pointing east towards the on-shore winds.

  Satisfied with my reconnaissance I headed back down and around the hill to the shuttle drop off.

  The entrance to the party was roped off with red velvet ropes attached to gold stanchions, and two well-dressed young people were checking invitations and ID’s. I showed them both of mine and they smiled and welcomed me inside. As far as they knew I was just another guest and that’s the way it would be for the rest of the night. I was just another nameless, faceless guest and I would be on the perimeter, watching.

  The place was all decked out with balloons and flowers. Pink and blue ribbons around every post, draped from the facia, and around a double sided baby stroller next to table number one; a not so subtle hint to the bride and groom what this was all about. Thirty round tables spread around the pool for the dinner guests, each with a number in the middle.

  I looked at my ticket, it read twenty nine. About as far away from the action and attention as you could get, which was perfect, but it didn’t matter since I wasn’t planning on sitting. There was a stage for the band, portable wood parquet dance floor, with five foot squares that interlock together, with a bar on either side, and a long banquet table loaded with food.

  It seemed cramped for three hundred people, why they didn’t have the party in a bigger space was a mystery to me. But not enough of a mystery for me to spend another moment thinking about it.

  With a quick eye I looked for danger spots, safe spots, places to hide, escape routes, places to hide weapons, things I could grab if I had to whack someone. I decided that if we had to get out of there and get out of there fast, we wouldn’t take either of the two staircases leading to the road; those could be pincer spots, ambush points. Instead, we’d go up and over the hill to the scenic overlook and then down that hill to the casino. There was a narrow lanai in front of a bedroom on the ocean side of the home, and on the other side of the house a short wall that we could leap over. If we had to, we could climb on top of the cabana and get to the scrub hill by that route.

  A waiter came by with a tray of champagne and I declined.

  “Got anything stronger? I need something with a little bite to it.”

  “The bar is open sir if you’d like to get something else.”

  I did, and walked over to the one on the right. “Scotch and soda on ice, hold the scotch. Please,” I added and winked at the pretty barmaid.

  She was dressed in a starched white tuxedo shirt with a bow tie, nearly busting out at the seams at all the right places and she blushed as I looked at her.

  A linen cloth covered an eight-foot table in front of her, lined up along its length were the usual intoxicants: a wide variety of whiskeys and rums, tequilas, vodkas, and gins.

  Behind her was another table lined with red wine bottles, while the white wines and champagnes were stacked neatly in two giant ice chests, with another three giant ice chests packed with green beer bottles.

  “Looks like you’re ready for battle. Are you?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “I heard the crowd’s gonna be in the three hundred range.” I pointed to the other bar where the bartender, a young man was getting his ice ready. “A hundred fifty per bar.”

  “I’m hoping that most of the people take the champagne that’s being passed around. That should give us some breathing room if the going gets tough.”

  “At least you don’t have any blended drinks.” I looked behind the bar. “Do you?”

  She brought her finger to her lips. “Shhhh. I have a blender under the bar but I’m hoping no-one asks for a blended.”

  I smiled at her. “It’s our little secret.” I made my way to the perimeter of the event and found a little nook out of the way where I would stay for the duration.

  Soon the house and deck filled with well-dressed people of all ages, drinking and laughing and telling tall tales. The bartenders did their best to keep the drinks flowing and yet there was a constant line in front of the bar, until they rolled out the food, and then the crowd switched to the buffet.

  I watched the perimeter with one eye and the party with the other as the sun set over the island in the west. It was actually a perfect place for an event like this, with the view over the harbor and the lights from all the boats on the water. On two different occasions I was approached by women looking for conversation, or something more, and each time I politely told them I was waiting for someone.

  Gale’s performance lasted nearly an hour, all throughout the meal, in fact, s
he was the entire dinner show. Her band consisted of a piano, an electric bass, a violin, and her golden voice.

  She sang, she joked, she toasted the young newlyweds. She looked fantastic. She was wearing a skin tight silver cocktail dress that shimmered with her every movement and accentuated her abundant curves.

  The dress was so tight that it looked like she’d either been poured into it, or had it painted right onto her skin. The martial arts training was having a very positive effect on her figure.

  At the end of her last song the crowd of three hundred gave her a standing ovation, and she held the high note of the finale until she literally ran out of breath. Then it was time to cut the cake, fling the bouquet and the garter belt into the crowd, and fire up the rock and roll band for dancing into the night.

  As the rock band was plugging in and tuning up, getting ready to play, I noticed one of the tables on the southern edge of the gala getting a little rowdy.

  The banquet area was set up with thirty round tables for ten each, and this table had a group of fifteen young men bunched up on one side playing cards, and it looked like one of the guys was taking a beating while the rest of them were laughing at his expense.

  He sat straight backed and high in his chair and I could tell he was a sizeable man, his beefy large face was beet red and it didn’t look like it was from a sunburn. It looked like they were playing poker, seven card stud with two cards down and four cards up. They were down to the last bet.

  There were two men remaining for the hand they were playing and they sat facing each other with a small mountain of greenbacks in between them. I didn’t see any ones, five’s or ten dollar bills, they all looked larger, like twenties, fifties and hundreds.

  The dealer laid a single card face down in front of each of the two players, who each took a quick look and made their last and final bets. When they turned the face-down cards up, the bystanders roared and by the look of beet faced player’s face, the devil took him over. He jumped to his feet, pushed back his chair, reached around to grab the back of it, and with a swift motion lifted it high over his head. He swung it around and slammed it straight down on the table, breaking the chair in splinters and sending the cards and money flying in the air.