“What is that?” I pointed.
“That’s the Security Housing Unit,” Bill said. “Pelican’s supermax-type control unit for the superbad. Affectionately referred to by inmates as ‘the Shu.’”
Is that what you want to go back to? The shoe?
“The Shu. Of course,” I murmured.
“Those are some bad boys in there, Ten. Not to be messed with.”
“Can you see if they had an inmate by the name of Monroe, Eldon Monroe?
Bill picked up the phone. Three re-routes later, he had an answer for me. No. It was what I expected, though not necessarily what I needed to make sense of anything else.
“You’ll get there,” Bill said.
On my way out the door, insects started chirping. The look on my partner’s face was priceless.
“New phone,” I told him. “Very green.”
I glanced down. It was Zimmy.
“Hi, Zimmy,” I said.
“My man. How’re you doing on this fine day? I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”
“I’m doing great,” I said. “I just finished an hour of walking meditation, so you are probably talking to the clearest version of me you’re going to get.”
Bill made a gagging motion from his desk.
“Good deal,” Zimmy said. “I had an idea pop into my head clear as day myself-something I want you to do for me-and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“That’s quite an introduction,” I said. “I’m all ears.”
“Jilly and I have been talking it over, and we want to hire you as a private detective to get to the bottom of all this stuff. Florio, Barbara’s death, the whole thing.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Zimmy, but I’m already investigating this on my own. You don’t need to pay me for it.”
“You don’t understand, Ten. I do. See, when Barbara and I first got together, she had some money saved up, several thousand dollars. Me being me back then, it wasn’t long before I’d put it up my nostrils, and hers.”
I waited.
“I have to make this right somehow,” he said. “It’s eating away at me, you know? Jilly can always tell when I’m getting wound up, so last night we had a long talk. We’ve been real fortunate up here, Ten. We just found out we’re gonna have the biggest crop of pears since we started growing them. We’ve got some extra money to spend. But even if we didn’t, I’d be asking you. I owe this to Barbara. I’m telling you, my peace of mind, maybe even my sobriety, depends upon repaying this debt. You’d be doing me a big favor by letting me buy five grand’s worth of your services. So, do we have a deal?”
I spot-checked my insides, and his, for any hidden agendas, and came up clear.
“We have a deal,” I said.
“Fantastic. I’ll get a check in the mail to you this afternoon. And Ten? I love you, brother.”
“You’re a good man, Zimmy. I’m proud to have you as my first official client.”
I hung up, and beamed at Bill.
“What?” he said.
“Magic is what, Bill. Five thousand dollars, falling from a tree, is what.”
“Zimmy hired you?”
“Zimmy hired me.”
“Then I guess it’s true, what they say. ‘If you investigate it, they will come….’”
“Who will come?”
“Forget it.” Bill walked over and clapped me on the back. “My dad used to tell me the only difference between an amateur and a professional is one dollar. You are now a bona fide professional private investigator. Congratulations. Now get to work.”
I drove home smiling. Tank met me at the door. I picked him up and gave his sturdy body a hug. His eyes blinked, like, “What’s the big deal?” I was on a spiritual roll, so I beamed him a little mind-movie, a series of mental pictures of me happily working on the case, and a cupboard stacked high with cans of tuna fish.
Then, just in case he didn’t pick up my vibes, I carried him into the kitchen and opened one, emptying the entire can in his bowl. Tank’s eyes opened wide in appreciation as he vigorously chomped down the contents, and happiness reigned supreme in our little household of two.
The Buddha tells us our thoughts and emotions, good or bad, never stay put. Rather, they pass like weather systems, so long as we don’t attempt to control them. As I watched Tank eat, I concentrated on just enjoying the feeling of abundance, without trying to staple it to my brain.
I made myself some green tea, and settled on my deck to make some calls. I scrolled through to find Julie’s number, and as I did, sure enough, a wisp of cloud passed over my sunny mood. I was grateful Bill hadn’t asked about us-I still didn’t know where “us” was going.
On the one hand, I liked her a lot. Her humor. Her confidence. Her freckles. But I couldn’t help but wonder if her self-assurance would soon prove to be a facade, as it had every time before with the women I dated. What if she turned around one day and was wearing another face, her real one, her warm, shining eyes replaced by two black holes of neediness?
Maybe it’s your neediness, not theirs.
I pushed that idea away. If anything, I was too self-sufficient for most women.
Okay, then. Don’t call Julie today. It’s still too soon. Better yet, let her call you.
I turned my attention to the Children of Paradise. I decided to check in on John D and see if I could get any more information out of him about the cult. Fortunately, his number was listed.
“Hello!” John D sounded startled, as if he didn’t get a lot of phone calls.
“John D,” I said. “This is Ten Norbu.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “What can I do for you, young fella?”
“I’m wondering if you can tell me a little more about your next-door neighbors.”
“You’re welcome to whatever I know,” he said.
“Besides Nehemiah, have you seen any other members? I’d like to know how many there are.”
I heard his breath wheezing as he thought things over.
“Every now and then they’ll gather in the field in a big circle, holding hands. I reckon there’s maybe forty people, all told.”
So they hadn’t expanded.
“And do they ever leave the place?”
“A few of ’em go down Thursdays to buy groceries.”
“Go down where?”
“There’s a farmer’s market in town every Thursday, down near the Vons. I see ’em there buying vegetables and fruit. I like to go myself-that’s how come I know.”
“Is it always the same people?”
He chuckled. “I’m sorry, son, I’m seventy-seven years old. One robe-wearing hippie looks just about like every other one to me.” He paused, as if revisiting the question. “Come to think of it, though, there is this one woman, she’s got long brown hair, she does the shopping most of the time. I remember her ’cause she’ll smile at me sometimes.”
“The rest of them don’t smile?”
“Nah, they’re a real serious bunch. She sticks in my mind ’cause when you’re old like me, you don’t get a lot of smiles from young women. Maybe I’ll see her at the market tomorrow. You want me to call you?”
“How would you feel about taking your newly adopted son there in person?” I asked.
I heard his rumbling chuckle again. “Danged if my adopted son don’t visit me more than my actual one! Sure, come on out. I’ll show you all the best stalls.”
“If you think of anything else important, just give me a call.”
“If I think of anything else important, I’ll write it down first, then give you a call. These days, by the time I get to the phone, I’ve already forgotten who I was calling.”
CHAPTER 17
The next morning, I put myself through my paces, and was on the road, earning my keep, by nine. I took the Mustang. I wasn’t planning on any off-road surveillance this trip, and truthfully, I wanted to see John D’s reaction to my roadster.
Ninety minutes later, I was kicking dust up the hill into his driveway. He was ready and waiting, rocking on his front porch in a checked short-sleeved shirt and stiff new jeans. He pushed himself upright, and stared. Then he started fanning his face, like my car was giving off too much heat.