Cherry Orphan

Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Tony Scott climbed from the sack around dawn and spent the early hours outside overseeing the installation of a new front window. When the phone rang he left the workmen to their labors and snatched up the receiver in the hall on the fifth ring.

"This is Pacific Bell. I have a collect call for Tony Scott from Robert Nameth. Will you accept the charges?"

"Yeah, I accept. Hi, you there, Bob?"

"Go ahead, please."

"Hello, Tony, hope this is not too early for you?"

"No, the work crew is finally here fixing the window—only three days late. Look if you're having a good time I hate to spoil things. You know that Salinas cop you saw?" Scott wasn't wasting any time with chitchat.

He heard Robert suck in his breath, obviously steeling himself. "Kosenkov! I was afraid of this. What's happened?"

"It's bad, Bob. He came here yesterday. You're going to have to say something to Colleen. That ex cop you hired is dead—murdered. I don't know about his buddies. They found him strung up and beaten to death. Jesus, Bob, this is getting totally out of hand. I gotta say, I'm scared. These drug guys don't screw around if they feel threatened."

Silence prevailed on the line for a few seconds. "Yes, okay, Tony." His tone of voice had changed abruptly. Robert sounded shaken. "If you don't feel safe at the house, move out. I suppose Kosenkov wants me to get in touch?"

"ASAP. I think he's real mad 'cause you didn't let him know you were going away. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine here. I made sure the extra security patrols were on the ball after the deer incident. I know it's pointless now, but I did warn you it wasn't right to mess with these vicious bastards."

"You did and I'm ashamed to admit I wasn't listening. You have no idea how stupid I feel. It's as though I've been hiding in another world. A person can easily forget reality here—but reality must be faced. I'll call Salinas right now. Give me his number."

Scott read it out from the card.

"Thanks. Sorry for involving you in my stupidity... you're a good friend. Bye, Tony. I'll call you again later." Scott inhaled with more words on his lips, but the line disconnected before he had time to respond. For a moment Scott stood listening to the background sound of hammering and electric drills as if in a trance, then gave a shake of the head. He turned and went outside.

***

Robert had to muster some degree of composure before dialing again.

The yacht crewmember in charge of scuba gear had been busy dealing with the dive center owner when he noticed Robert standing at the wall-hung phone, gripping the handset with his head bowed as if he were praying. "Excuse me, Mr. Nee-mit, is you feelin' okay?"

Robert's head turned and he stared blankly at the man's dark face. "What?"

"I said, you alright, Mr. Nee-mit? You lookin' kind'a sick there, mon. Hope you ain't got the hepatitis bug."

Robert seemed to come out of his daze slowly. "Oh, er, no... no I'm okay. Did you get everything you need?"

"We got plenty tanks for two-three days at least. You settle with the boss-man an' I wait for you in the launch. You sure you is okay?"

"Yeah, just one more call to make. Go ahead; I'll catch up."

The muscular islander hefted the last two pairs of full dive tanks and went out the cabin door onto the dock. The last thing in the world Robert wanted to do at that moment was make the next call, but he dialed the number anyway.

***

James shaded his eyes. Calley and Sonia were dawdling up the white, curved beach behind him, about a hundred yards back, looking at something Sonia held in both hands. No sooner had they cleared line-of-sight with the yacht both girls instantly removed their bikini tops and stuffed them in Calley's beach bag. Watching the pair, casual, all but naked in broad daylight never failed to make something stir. It was like a glorious wet dream come to life—paradise found. His insides ached, knowing it would soon be paradise lost.

"What's that?" he called out.

"Conch shell. Sonia found it over there. Here, use your camera." Calley fished in the bag and produced his Polaroid. "We want pictures."

Lilting island music drifted from an anchored boat somewhere in the bay. Calley came up to him dancing and turning to the distant rhythm, her skin glistening with sun lotion. She handed over the camera. James fired off several shots as both girls played with the shell, tossing it back and fourth like a Frisbee. By now he'd learned enough to use flash against the bright background of ocean.

"One more." Calley looked impishly at her sister. "Bottoms off."

"Calley!" Sonia retorted.

"What's the matter—pussy shy all of a sudden?"

"No, stupid. This beach isn't exactly deserted."

In reality it could easily have been considered deserted. People in the distance were much too far away for anyone to discern detail.

"Well boo-hoo. I want James to have a picture of me on a nude beach, so there. This isn't California; we don't have any damn beach patrols out here."

In an instant she wriggled down and stepped out of the tiny bottom half, then struck a pose with legs together, hands on hips.

In the viewfinder he saw the impudent Calley he first knew, before hometown eyes, before drugs, before bad dreams. Before the complexities of real life.

The instant he pressed the shutter release she stuck out her tongue. Sonia let out a laugh as the motor drive delivered the print.

Eventually they spread a groundsheet near the line of palms and soaked up sunshine. Calley lay on her stomach with the bikini bottom back in place, but pushed down over her buttocks, exposing lighter skin. She spoke with her head cradled in her forearms. "Want to know why Mom sent us out of the way? She did you know. It's because I let it all out, Sonia. I told Mom Dad lied about calling off the men he hired. I told her about Carlo... everything."

Both Sonia and James reacted with a start. "Jesus, Calley!" her sister gasped, sitting up. "What the hell are you doing? Mom will kill him."

Calley didn't even look at her. She picked up the shell and turned it in her hand, touching the ribbed surface lightly. "No she won't. What hurt her most was our silence. The fact we all knew what he'd done and didn't say a thing. If he admits it all I think she'll stay and work something out. Besides, what's the difference? Everything would have come out anyway. The police will want to talk to me as soon as we get back."

"You don't know that. Dad may have kept you out of it," Sonia persisted.

"Wake up. We're talking drug dealers here. Someone had to be the user in all of this. The police know it must be one or both of us. Dad would never let them think it was you."

A horrible thought occurred to James. "Can they arrest you?"

Calley turned her head in his direction. "They could if I was still using, but I'm not. I have Mom and you guys to thank for that. No, it'll be questions and identification they'll want from me. Only one problem: users never rat on their suppliers... not ever. What do I do, James?"

Once more he lay on his back, and stared up at the cloudless sky. The frightening dream seemed to be playing out, relentlessly. It plodded onward, the pieces clicking into place as though they were unstoppable. He wanted to scream at the projectionist in his head—shout "no more" and make it end—before the final reel began to play.

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