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  “Okay, time to go! Sorry, Seesaw has to come inside.”

  “Oh, okay.” He was used to this. And if she liked Casey and Casey must like her, then maybe he should try to like her too.

  He reaches down, picks up the stones and holds them out to Mara in his grimy hand.

  “Here you go!”

  He yells at top volume again.

  “VERY… GOOD… CHEESE!”

  Mara flinches, laughs and begrudgingly takes the smooth pebbles. She watches as Skeezy drops the orange peels in his pocket and carefully flattens the cracker box, sliding it in his backpack.Skeezy jumps up and shuffles off. Mara takes the dog inside.

  Chapter 17

  Deep Orange

  Mara studies paint swatches inside a home improvement store. Outside, the Akita stares intently at the store’s front door, waiting for her. She had rigged up a harness so he could ride in the truck bed safely and legally. Casey had insisted and grilled her about the details. It’s not that Mara didn’t like dogs. She did, just not the way Casey or her nutty ‘Rain Man’ friend did. Mara was preoccupied, determined to get things done, and the Kobayashis had been the first to notice how their older dog had bonded with Casey, appointing himself her personal guard. Claire was the first to say it, and her husband agreed, “Kiku is right.” Their dog had fallen in love. They were gracious and suggested that Mara should take him to the beach house and get him acclimated to the surroundings so he could stay with them until Casey felt comfortable being in the house alone. Such sweet people and it was really a good idea. He had already made the rounds of the house on his first visit, lingering on any Casey-rich zones and then staking out his spot by the sliding glass door. Don’t think of why. Shocked, Mara had sat down on the floor beside him with tears flowing.

  She leaves the store with two gallons of custom-mixed deep orange paint, wide blue masking tape, various painting supplies, a replacement lighting fixture and a brass peephole with drill bit the right size. The lighting fixture wasn’t as nice as the old one, but they could get it repaired or have fun shopping for a new cool one later.

  Back at the beach house, Mara takes photos of the living room wall layout, methodically removing and stacking the hanging items, sliding the couch and music equipment into the middle of the room and taping down plastic drop cloths. Do not let yourself think of what happened. Just do not. This would keep her busy and make a nice surprise for Casey when she got home. Then she saw them. Two tiny spots of blood. She thought she had gotten them all but they must have flown under the front edge of the couch. At one point, she had gotten professionally curious and quickly decided not to ask forensics about what fluoresced and where. Later. Not now. She would ask Derek to keep up on the case and check. Until they found the guy, she had to think of Casey’s health first. She ran to the bathroom for Q-Tips and hydrogen peroxide. She stared down, transfixed as the tiny spatters foamed and bubbled. Should she save the stained swabs? No, they had copious evidence. This was psychological, emotional house-cleaning. She balled them up in the paper towel she wiped the floor with and threw it away.

  The sliding door is open, and the ocean breeze blows in, ruffling the blinds. Casey’s favorite lounge chair silhouetted on the deck near the covered hot tub and planter box.

  Mara tests the light fixture and cleans it with glass cleaner and paper towels.

  She stands back and surveys the newly-painted ‘Casey orange’ wall, taking a couple photos before re-hanging all the artwork and wall items. She wanted to add the scalloped coaster that Casey had first printed her name and number on, but maybe she would get a little frame. She had never mentioned that she had kept it.

  As her final task, Mara marks a center spot in the front door and drills a hole, installing the peephole. She sits at her computer, printing out photos of the completed wall and light fixture. Extra copies for the insurance adjuster.

  Mara looks over at her sleeping helper, laughing to herself.

  Chapter 18

  Koi Pond

  Mara hangs out the casement window, watching David Kobayashi, Claire and Philip’s son, put the finishing touches on a small koi pond and fountain in the backyard. He’s thirty-five and handsome with a spiky rooster tail haircut that shakes in the sun as he works. He checks the flow on the fountain as it re-circulates the water in the small pool.

  Three koi swim slowly in a large plastic container. The family’s dog stares at them with rapt attention. The pond features a little stand of papyrus, four lily pads and some large smooth river rocks.

  Philip Kobayashi enters Casey’s room and joins Mara at the window, watching his son.

  “Casey, you gotta see this! Seesaw is all over those koi. If he only knew how much they cost.” She shouldn’t have said that with Mr. Kobayashi in the room.

  “What did you say?”

  “Look at Seesaw checking out the carp?” She couldn’t figure out why Casey was finding this so amusing. She was sure her hearing was okay.

  “Philip, would you tell my friend what your dog’s name is.”

  “Cecil.”

  Mara looks at Casey, not getting it.

  “And?”

  “I wondered why you kept calling him ‘Seesaw’… not that I don’t love baby talk” She burst out laughing and continued.

  “It’s Cecil. C-E-C-I-L.”

  She waits for the response.

  “Oh my God!” Mara starts to laugh now, looking sheepish.

  Philip smiles and interjects, using a heavy bad joke dialect.

  “Oh, don’t wolly, Mala. You just need to risten, calefurry.”

  The three of them laugh so hard that Jade, the Kobayashis’ daughter, comes in to see what’s going on. She is twenty-seven and affects a punk style with cherry cola-colored hair, multiple tattoos, piercings, jewelry and a camera slung around her neck. She is an adoring, respectful daughter to her parents.

  She watches them laugh until they cry, snapping candid shots as she talks.

  “What’s the deal? Are you guys dropping acid? I want whatever you just took! Sharing is caring.”

  David calls in through the window.

  “Fish time, everybody!”

  “Jade, please go and tell your mother.”

  Jade leaves to find Claire. Philip and Mara help Casey to the windowsill. They watch David get ready to release the koi into their new home.

  Claire and Jade appear next to the little pond. Philip excuses himself and rushes out to join his wife, daughter and son. He recites a short verse of dedication in Japanese, and David slips the koi into the water one by one.

  Philip looks up to the window and speaks to Mara and Casey.

  “Thank you, my friends for this treasured gift. You have done a wonderful thing, and we appreciate it. When you are back in your home, you will always know that you are welcome here.”

  Casey nudges Mara who speaks for both of them.

  “I can… we can never thank you for everything you’ve done. I’m happy you like it. David does beautiful work.” David smiles and bows his head slightly.

  Jade takes photos to show to Gerald and Tom, the AIDS patients who are too sick to come out and see the little ceremony. She comes back in to show the photos to Casey and Mara. They all stare into the camera screen.

  “Kick-ass compositions, Jade.” Casey looks intently at one particular shot.

  “That’s the one! This would look really great matted and framed.”

  “Thanks, dude!”

  Jade changes the subject.

  “Hey Mara, did you want to come outside and chant with me and my Mom and Dad and David. He brought his hang drum. It’s a good thing…”

  Jade looks at Casey, and then back at Mara.

  “She’s worried about your sneak smoking and patches and junk.”

  Casey hunches her shoulders and squeezes her eyes shut. Oh Jade, what are y
ou doing?

  “Oops, was I not supposed to say that? Yikes!”

  Jade sees an irritated Mara and quickly equivocates.

  “Of course, pimping liquor isn’t so great, either… HAHA… C’mon out and just get a feel for it. You might like the idea.”

  Mara listens with her arms folded.

  “Nothin’ but calm and connection. Your job, I mean whoa! I can only imagine.”

  Mara shoots Casey a look but follows Jade out into the backyard garden.

  Chapter 19

  ‘Save the Overtime for Me’

  Casey sits on an infield bench at the local high school with Cecil lying at her feet. She watches Mara run laps alone on the gritty dirt track. It’s Saturday and almost dusk, so the track is deserted. By the shine on her skin, Mara is almost finished with her workout. Casey has lost count.

  Casey raises her voice as Mara runs by.

  “Hey, when are you going to quit?”

  Mara yells back over her shoulder without breaking stride as she goes into the far turn.

  “Just four more laps… “

  Casey takes a swig from a sports water bottle, and then pours some into her ‘good’ hand for Cecil. He laps it up and flops back down on the grass with his head on his front paws. Mara slows down on her last lap, chugging along on the packed sandy dirt.

  Casey sings a song cue.

  “Hey, … ‘Save the overtime for me’!”

  Mara laughs, breathing hard.

  “Gladys Knight… and the Pips.”

  “Yeah, but I mean it. I have to tell you something.”

  Mara runs on the far side of the track and yells her question as she puffs along.

  “What?!”

  Casey yells back.

  “Well, I can’t yell it! …”

  This was getting to be like some bad comedy sketch. Yelling about not yelling. Who’s on first?

  “But there’s nobody here… Okay, I’m coming in for a landing.”

  Mara runs the last few paces, walks around in a small circle, and stops in front of Casey. She bends at the waist and braces her hands on her knees, breathing hard.

  Casey stands up and hands Mara a towel. Mara loops it around her neck and uses the ends to mop her face and throat.

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  She stands with her hands on her hips.

  “So? What’s the big mystery?”

  Casey pulls on the ends of the towel and puts her head close to Mara.

  “You run like you make love, like you’re never going to stop.”

  Mara is shocked and blushes furiously. She looks down at her dusty Nikes.

  “Well… um… I’m not.”

  Mara zips into her warm-up jacket and sweatpants and looks over at Cecil who hasn’t budged and appears to be dozing.

  “Apparently not everyone finds you exciting.” Casey’s finest deadpan.

  They both laugh, and Casey gets Cecil up on his feet, suddenly very motivated to get home.

  “Come on, tough guy… Time to go to your home away from home.”

  Chapter 20

  Privileged Information

  Susanna Jenssen, Derek’s ex-wife, and Larry Fratiano, Derek’s former detective partner, had scheduled a personal meeting at the local Starbucks.

  Susanna is bleached blonde, overly made-up, over-dressed but very attractive in a processed way. Larry is a slim, cagey hotshot with a gift for self-promotion. He is wearing his best black and silver warm-up suit, a huge dress wristwatch and a black baseball cap turned backwards. He is fifty-three but claims forty-eight.

  Larry sits at an outdoor table, cheerful and animated. He rattles the ice in his drink. Susanna’s dark green Jaguar sedan slides up to the curb and parks in a ‘15 MINUTES ONLY- PASSENGER LOADING’ space.

  Larry leaps to his feet, whips off his cap and stuffs it in his armpit. He opens the car door and helps Susanna out. He kisses her cheek, and she begrudgingly permits it.

  “I got us a table… what can I get for you? Is this spot shady enough?”

  Susanna does her best to seem relaxed.

  “Oh sure, this is fine. A non-fat vanilla Frappuccino would be nice.”

  He hurries to order her drink and hustles back, throwing himself into his chair, flashing a broad grin.

  “How have you been, Larry?” Let the pettiness and excavation begin!

  “Things are just great, honey… lotta irons in the fire. How’s your shop doing?”

  “Not as well as I would like, but that’s the state of the economy right now.” Her shop featured high-end casual resort wear, designer bags, watches, jewelry and sunglasses. And she was drastically over-extended.

  “I hear ya, sweetie. Gosh, I miss the old days with you guys. You should get back with Derek.”

  “Oh, I wish I could, but he’s just so distant, Larry. I do try though, I really do.”

  He slides his chair in closer.

  “Don’t tell him I said so, but he don’t seem so happy, I don’t think. I was real sorry to hear that your marriage with Charles didn’t work out. Dude’s an idiot to leave a hot babe like you.”

  Inwardly cringing, Susanna appreciates his crass compliment.

  “Oh, Larry.”

  “Hell, girl! I mean it. You look fantastico… magnifico… Che bella animale! So what else is new? HAHAHAHA!” For him, this was classy - theatrical laughter and subtitles from ‘60s Italian movies. In his mind, he was Marcello Mastroianni or some other slick, European lady-killer.

  “Oh, that’s very sweet of you, Larry. Charles wasn’t half the man Derek is.”

  Susanna portrays sadness, touching a lacquered thumbnail to her tooth veneers.

  “I just made a bad mistake, and I don’t think I will ever have a chance to undo it. Derek would never take me back.”

  Larry’s name is called, and he raises his finger.

  “Hold that thought.”

  He trots off, quickly returning with her drink. He puts it in front of her and eyeballs her huge wedding ring.

  “So, what’s up, Buttercup? Maybe we can remedy the situation.”

  “Oh, Larry, don’t you miss the way it used to be”

  Larry nods.

  “I guess I didn’t appreciate what I had with him. I just really wasn’t ready for kids then, and Derek always wanted to be a father. He even talked about it way back in high school.

  “He would make a hell of a Dad!”

  He smirks and leans in.

  “And let me tell ya… it ain’t happening with this woman he was seeing.”

  He gives her a sage and knowing look, and seeing that her interest is piqued, he lays it on thick. Privileged information. Very valuable, he hoped.

  “She really tore him up… I mean, don’t tell him I said that, okay? He’s a proud guy. You did not hear this from me.” He drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

  “I’m not supposed to know but she has a girlfriend or some chick she lives with.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, another cute blonde off the market. Shit, these people!”

  Susanna gives an appraising look and her full attention. She genuinely hated hearing that someone had hurt Derek because she knew he was an exceptionally good man, but her sincere upset was swamped by the possibility of advantage and self-interest.

  “Honest to fucking Christ! Oops, sorry Suse’. I mean, she’s okay-looking I guess, but nothing like you! I mean it. You can’t help it if you’re gorgeous. He shoulda stayed with you.” Larry at his cagey, finagling best.

  “I bet you could round him up.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Hell, girl! I would do whatever I could to help out. Anything for you. I mean it. Lemme see what I can do.”

  “That’s so sweet of you, but I think I missed my chance.”

  “All
is not lost, Doll! I got me some ways and means.”

  Susanna checks her watch with a pained, world-weary look.

  “Well, I know you gotta go, Hon’. Back to the fashion grindstone.”

  They both get up. He helps her into her car, kisses her on the cheek again and waves as she leaves.

  Susanna’s troweled-on make-up in her rear-view mirror as she waves her French tip nails at him. She drives away. Larry slaps his cap on backwards and grabs himself, speaking under his breath.

  “Derek, you asshole! Woof! This is one little hottie. What were you thinkin’, Dude?”

  Larry sees that their table is about to be cleared and lurches toward it, calling out to an employee busing tables.

  “That’s okay. I got it!”

  Larry crushes both drink cups in one hand, jamming the two straws in his mouth. He pivots and heads for his car, slurping loudly.

  The employee shakes his head and turns back to his work.

  Chapter 21

  Choke

  Close on a computer screen showing an Outlook Express In-box. The cursor arrow selects the subject heading ‘Crime Scene Photos’ and double-clicks on it. The e-mail opens. The cursor double-clicks on one of the several picture files. The image of a bikini-clad Sports Illustrated-style model appears to appreciative noises. A reminder message pops up, obscuring the hottie on the screen. Subject heading: ‘Weekly Catch Up’. The cursor clicks on ‘Dismiss’. The pop-up reminder closes.

  “Okay, the room’s ready.” Mara wonders what surreptitious activity was going on. She could guess.

  Detective Manny Rodriguez, mid-thirties, slim, handsome and cocky. Perfect haircut, deep red fitted shirt, and skinny black tie. An indefatigable bird-dogger. It just never shut off. He looks up from the swimsuit model to see Mara standing in front of him. She taps her watch.