Barbara.”
The cell phone rang in DeeDee’s hand, making her jump. She listened. “Calm down, Karen, I can’t understand you. What happened?” That helped a little. “Hold on a sec.” To Walter she said, “Some men came into the store, apparently scared Karen.”
He paid no attention to her, just looked ahead. She followed his gaze, saw a black limousine slowing to a stop beside the Nova. A man in a black suit got out.
“The bastard’s after Jamie!”
He broke into a full run, but Lupe was already ahead of him. “Stop! Stay away from that car,” she screamed. “This is the police.” She held up something, her badge most likely.
The right rear door of the Chevy was opened.
“Stay away from that car or I’ll shoot.” It was a gun in her hand. Lupe was at the rear of the Nova now. She assumed a shooting stance, both hands wrapped around her revolver. “I mean it, stop what you’re doing, or I’ll shoot.”
The man reached toward his suit jacket, then a voice came from the limousine, “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
It seemed to take forever, but the man reentered the limousine and it sped off, burning rubber.
“He’s okay,” Walter called, “didn’t even wake up.”
DeeDee leaned against the trunk of the car, winded, unaware of running herself. “Thank God!”
“So incredibly stupid,” Lupe said, “trying to seize a child in broad daylight. I’m going to put a stop to it.”
“But how?”
“You just reported an attempted kidnapping to the police. You gave a description of the men and their vehicle.”
“How can we?” Walter asked. “No one must know about Jamie or we’ll lose him.”
“You have no idea why anyone would want to harm your grandson, do you?”
DeeDee laughed delightedly. ”How clever! Yes, our grandson James Byerly, visiting from Ohio.”
“I recognize that guy from my trip to the estate. He’s the one who drove me off the road and threatened me.”
“You never told me that, Walter.”
“I’m sorry I did now. It was nothing and you’ll worry. Anyway, we know for sure Kinkaid is behind all this.”
Lupe nodded. “And when Kinkaid’s men are described in the paper, he’ll have to call off this strong-arm nonsense.”
16: Granny Joy
Byerly hated to play tennis with Eric Shepherd, but sacrifices had to be made in the name of mystery solving. Shepherd was a putterer, particularly on serves, bouncing the ball repeatedly, hiking up his shorts, bouncing the ball, pulling at his shirt, bouncing the ball, adjusting his glasses, bouncing some more. His serve was lousy, but by the time it crossed the net he might be Pete Sampras or Andy Roddick. Byerly often called balls in just so he wouldn’t have to watch Shepherd’s shenanigans.
“You’re off your game today, Walt. To early in the morning for you or do you always lose to judges?”
They were at the net. “You should go to Wimbledon, Shep. Roger Federer would fall asleep waiting for you to serve.”
“Won’t work. The pros have only 25 seconds between serves, but it’s nice to know I bother you.”
“The correct word is exasperate.” He patted his shoulder. “C’mon, loser buys coffee, I want to pick your brains.”
“I knew this wasn’t about tennis.” They headed off the court. “I see you made the News-Press this morning. What’s that all about?”
“Nothing really, some nut I suspect.” They picked up their coffee and Danish from the counter and found a table. At once his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his tennis bag, said, “Not many people know this number, Shep. It might be important.”
“Go right ahead.”
Addie Kinkaid’s voice was excited, so changed from the mousy, hopeless whine he’d heard in the van. “Josh is in town. He moved me to the most glamorous hotel in Santa Barbara-the El Encanto, if you can imagine such luxury after The Sally. We both want to see you.”
“I’m in the middle of something at the moment, Addie. Why don’t I take you and Josh to lunch at your hotel, noon okay? See you soon.”
He hung up, said, “Sorry, where were we?”
“You were about to pick my brains.”
“What can you tell me about Victor Dragon”
“Where have you been? He’s in the papers almost as much as you.”
“The needle is accepted. I’m not talking about his reputation or public persona, I want to know-”
“A little dirt from a judge, right” His laugh resounded generously.
“Now that you put it that way, yes-and we never had this conversation.”
“Better believe that.” He thought a moment, smoothing back his gray hair. “Even when he was a deputy DA, certainly since going to the other side, Vic has always been one to push the envelope. He never breaks the law, or actually does anything improper, but-”
“He tests the limits.”
“Personally I’m a little surprised he’s stayed out of trouble, but then he’s a very smart man.”
“Does he represent Karl Kinkaid?”
“Does Bill Gates own a computer? Kinkaid couldn’t fart without Victor Dragon holding his hand.”
“May I quote you on that, Judge?”
“I should say that’s in California. I don’t know what happens in the rest of the world.”
Byerly sipped his coffee. “I’ve lived in this town for 10 years, and I’ve never laid eyes on Karl Kinkaid that I know of.”
“Join the club. I can’t tell you how much Kinkaid litigation crosses my desk, yet I can’t remember when I last saw the man, if ever. I sometimes wonder if there really is a Karl Kinkaid.”
“You’re talking Howard Hughes.”
“The thought has crossed my mind. In the man’s absence we have Victor Dragon. I’ve even asked him if his client is alive and well. He just laughs. Why don’t you talk to Vic? Maybe you’ll have better luck.”
“Not a bad idea.”
The El Encanto Hotel reigned over the Riviera, the estate-filled foothills several hundred feet above the city. The restaurant hugged a veranda with breathtaking views of the city and ocean below.
He almost didn’t recognize Addie in a fashionable suit and hairstyle. He bent, kissed her cheek. “You look just radiant.” He wondered if other homeless might do as well if given the chance.
“Thanks to you. Walter, this is my son, Josh.”
Josh was younger than he anticipated, blondish, handsome in a kooky way. He wore some sort of goop to make his hair stand straight up. They shook hands.
“I had no idea Mums had no money, Mr. Byerly. I would never have-”
“I’m sure not.” He smiled. “You’re here now to look after her, that’s all that matters.”
Wine was ordered and poured. He mostly just listened to Josh’s talk about cars, Addie’s hope to get back into her apartment. Actually he was glad to be distracted from thoughts of tomorrow and the hospital.
“Did your father leave you financially well-off, Josh?” he asked.
“I really don’t know a number. It’s all in a trust. The income is more than enough for me to live on.”
Lucky kid. “Your grandfather set up the trust?”
“Not very likely. My grandmother set up the trust from her family fortune. It went to my father, now to me. My grandfather Kinkaid had no use for my father and very little for me.”
