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Authors: Grant Fieldgrove

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BOOK: Lemons 02 A Touch of Danger
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There was a knock on the door and Elise stuck her head in.

“Mr. Ambrose is here to see you now, Mr. Lemons.”

I hated how she called me Mr. Lemons when a client was around. It was excessively formal for a sister-in-law to call her brother-in-law and friend, but she insisted on doing it, saying it sounded way more professional. I had given up trying to convince her otherwise.

“Send him on in,” I instructed.

The door opened fully and in walked Mr. Ambrose, a decent-enough looking man of average height and weight with salt-and-pepper hair and a freshly shaven face. He had a nervous smile above the little cleft in his chin.

“Mr. Ambrose, please come in and have a seat. I have some news about your case.”

3.

I have to admit, Mr. Ambrose took the news of his wife’s infidelity quite well. He said he didn’t care as long as she wasn’t messing around with another man. Apparently, Mr. Ambrose has been watching too much late-night Cinemax and thinks he’ll just slide right in to their sexual encounters. I don’t think the real world really works like that and I used the expert tact I picked up from Detective Anderson to inform him that he probably turned her off men forever. He didn’t even realize I was taking a dig at him and assumed it was a sign that after him, no other man would do.

Either way, I couldn’t care less about him or his fantasies as long as his check cleared, as I was sure it would. And as Mr. Ambrose walked out the door, so did my last active case. It was quite the relief. Elise and I had pretty much been working non-stop since I returned to work after my sabbatical following The Incident, and while I still had plenty of work offered up, I really needed a break from all the action. We were both exhausted, and on top of the much-heavier-than-usual workload, the kids were always home since it was summer break, which made everything at least fifty times more difficult. Not that I was complaining, I loved having them around, we all just needed a break though. And soon.

The door opened once more and in walked Elise holding her laptop.

“Hey, I was thinking,” she said. “What do you say to some camping on the beach in Pismo?”

“Camping? You mean like…in a…motel?”

“No, you stuck-up snob, in a tent. On the beach? Whatta ya think?”

“I think we both have jobs and can afford beds.”

“Come on, Archie, where is your sense of adventure? It’ll be fun?”

“I don’t see what is fun about sleeping on the floor,” I said. “If you want to sleep on the floor, you can sleep on the floor of a nice hotel while I enjoy the bed. Whatta ya say?”

“Archie! You do not stay at fancy hotels while at the beach. Especially Pismo Beach! Camping will be great fun. And besides, you can consider this the ‘touch of danger’ that you always hope for on your cases. What is more dangerous to a little sissy-boy than sleeping on some sand?”

“Did you just call me a sissy-boy?”

“Sure did. Sissy-boy. And where did you even come up with that phrase ‘touch of danger?’”

“Ha! Random word title-maker from the internet that I used for an article I attempted to write back in my Want-to-be-a-Reporter Days.”

“Figures. Well, it’s stupid and you should think of something new.”

“Well…your face….is stupid!”

“Oh man, you really got me on that one, oh mighty insult master.”

“When did we even decide on the beach, anyway? I don’t remember even discussing this. How about Vegas? I was kinda hoping to go there on the Fick case but I got in a fight with that stupid car. So yeah. Vegas?”

“Yeah, sure thing, Arch,” she said. “Vegas sounds like a wonderful place to take a couple of kids. Even better, maybe I can stay in the room and watch the little wrecking crew and you can go out and gamble away all your profits from this quarter and get drunk and spun out on vodka-Redbulls?”

“See, I knew you’d understand. Thanks E!”

“Not happening. We’re going to Pismo for a few days to rest and relax and have a great time.”

I was not going to win this battle. Elise was just as stubborn as her sister, my wife, Marianne. When they had their minds made up, look out, boy, because you were not going to win.

“Fine,” I tell her, “But there is no goddamn way I am sleeping on the floor. That’s gross. And ridiculous!”

“Fine then,” she said, “we will compromise. How about a nice motel near the ocean? With beds. And a television.”

I had no choice but to agree, even though we would be staying in a motel, probably with a crappy bed and a zillion year old, non-HD television and no room service and no gambling. And to top it off, we would be at the beach, with that dirty sand and the world’s largest toilet, the Pacific Ocean.

“Okay okay, you win,” I tell her. “Pismo Beach it is. At least check with me before you book the hotel. Sorry, MOTEL. I want to make sure it’s not a complete shithole.”

“You wont be sorry, Archie! I have my laptop right here. We can start looking right now.”

“Hold on,” I tell her as I open up my desk drawer. “Throw that fossil in the trashcan, I have a present for you,” I say as I walk over and hand her my white iPad.

“Shut your face right up! Seriously, I can have it?!”

“Sure can. I billed that sad sack-of-shit who just walked out of here for a brand new one. You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t pry the smile off her face with a crowbar. She was beaming. Ah, life’s simple pleasures.

“Oh man, Archie, thank you so much! Can I go play with it?”

“Absolutely, we’re done here. As soon as I finish this paperwork we are officially on vacation. Find us a place to stay. Vacation is on me this year, too.”

“No, come on, I can help pay, that’s not fair to you,” she said.

“Elise, you and the kids have helped me more than you will ever even realize. This vacation is absolutely on me. Let me finish this shit up, you find us a room, and then we’ll swing by the mall and grab you a new swimsuit and I’ll get some new shorts. Then we can go pick up the kids from Jamie’s and go pack.”

“Sounds good to me. And Archie, they are called bikinis. Girls wear bikinis, not swimsuits.”

“My bad, whatever. Go find us a place to stay.”

“Alright, I’m on it. One more thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“Are you really going to keep that ridiculous mustache for our vacation? You look like you’re about to show up for a gun fight at the O.K. Corral.”

It was true. My mustache had taken on a life all its own. The ends had separated from my face and had begun to curl up into a circle. I looked like I was constantly plotting some evil scheme of world domination or was about to fight in an old-time boxing match. I liked it, but I had a feeling I was the only one.

“You don’t like it?” I asked her, even though the answer was obvious.

“You look you own a plumbing business with your stalky brother and are on the hunt for a missing princess. Actually, lately you’re looking more like Mario than Luigi.” She grabbed her flat stomach and giggled around some imaginary fat, mocking me. My best friend.

“So sue me, I like food and hate exercise. Whatever.”

“Where are your red overalls and plunger?”

“Geez, fine, I get the hint. I’ll shave my ‘stache if you shave yours.’

“Oh, suck it Lemons. I’m going to go find us a motel. I’m really sorry that O.J. killed your son, but you really need to go shave that mess,” she said with a huge smile as she walked out the door and back to her desk.

Damnit. Looks like I was going to have to part ways with this delicious slice of sexy, raw manliness.

***

We finished up all our business and arrived at Elise’s friend Jamie’s house before sundown to pick up the kids. Jamie had a daughter that was Elliot’s age and the three of them all got along swimmingly. Whatever that means. Jamie had offered to watch the kids during the summer because, honestly, I think she was happy that Elise finally had a steady job. I had met Jamie several times over the course of the years I was married to Marianne and found her to be a lovely woman, very kind and outgoing. I trusted her completely with my nephews. She wasn’t hard on the eyes either, but shhh.

While in the car heading back to Elise’s house, we told the kids the exciting news about the beach and they could hardly contain their excitement. Elise told them when they got home they had exactly one hour to pack and then it was bedtime. We lied to them and said we would be getting an early start, even though, as everyone in the car knew, as long as I was involved, an early start was all but an impossibility.

4.

Our early morning start was more like an early afternoon start. I don’t know why, but for some reason I cannot make myself get up and get ready, even when it is something I am looking forward to. Oh well, we finally hit the road a little before one-o’clock and our two and a half hour drive seemed like an eternity. You would think a drive from Southern California to the beach would be fun, with lots of great sights and stuff, but that is far from the case. First, you have to cut through the glorious, progressive town of Taft, which is just as classy as it sounds, then drive miles upon miles through absolute nothingness before hitting a speed trap of a little shit town. Then, you come to some boring mountains, also filled with nothing. Now, add to that crappy drive two kids in the backseat who constantly feel the need to remind you how boring the drive is while picking the world’s worst music to listen to, and with miles of 3G dead spots for the iPad making any streaming Netflix content all but an impossibility, and you have one hellish nightmare of a drive.

Right now, we were currently between the shithole speed trap town and the mountains. It was a long stretch of Jack Norman Shit but somehow, for some unknown reason, there was a rather long string of creepy looking motels.

“Who is staying in these motels?” Elise asks.

“They’re called Dead Hooker Depositories. Get it right.”

“What’s a hooker?” Eric asks from the backseat.

“The only dates your dad can get,” I answered.

Elise shot me a look. I shut up and continued along in my misery, listening to whatever bubble-gum bullshit the kids were torturing me with.

It was all worth it though, once the ocean came into view and the temperature dropped. When we left Bakersfield this afternoon it was one-hundred-and-nine degrees, but when I opened up the car door, I stepped out into a wonderful seventy-one degrees. I took a deep breath and inhaled the cool air into my lungs. It was a welcome change from my hometown’s hot and ugly shit-air.

Elise stayed at the car with the kids and Wrecker while I walked up to the motel office to check in. We had decided on a little place in Shell Beach called the Ocean Inn. Pretty much the most uninspired name for something since that god-awful Kevin Spacey movie 21, but it fit our needs, pets were welcome and it was within walking distance to the beach. I told the innkeeper thank you for his help, grabbed our key cards and headed back towards Elise’s car.

“We’re all set,” I tell them. “Rooms five and six, right over there.”

The kids already started begging to go to the beach, but I had to inform them that we wouldn’t be going down to the water until tomorrow.

“It’s too late to go right now, guys. Go to your room and relax for a few minutes, then we’ll take a walk down the street and we can look at the water for a while. Then we need to get some dinner. Fatty is starving!”

“Yay!” both kids yelled and ran off, with Wrecker, towards our rooms.

“How can you have any room left in your stomach for food after the five Rockstars you drank on the drive over?” Elise asked in astonishment.

“Apparently you haven’t seen this gut of mine, lately.” I lifted up my t-shirt to share it with her.

“Oh my god, never mind,” she said. “Question answered. Come on, King Ralph, let’s go inside.”

Once inside my room, I kicked off my shoes and flopped backwards on the bed. I was surprise by how comfortable it felt as I was always under the impression that motels were shit. It was a nice way to start the vacation, especially since I still was sleeping on the sofa at my house. I had slept in a bed when I was holed up at Elise’s house, and it was great, but once I decided to return home, I still couldn’t make myself sleep on the bed Marianne and I shared together. That seemed like it was in a different lifetime.

As is my custom after lying on a bed, I immediately look for the remote control for the television. What good is relaxing if there isn’t some brain-garbage emulating from the electronic moron in the corner of the room. I was right about the zillion-year old, non-HD television, but I guess it didn’t matter. I guess this is what they call “roughing it” these days. I was prepared to make the sacrifice if it meant Elise and the kids were happy.

While searching for the remote I found a little folded pamphlet thing explaining that they would not be changing my sheets on a daily basis unless I requested it. They said it was to reduce the use of water and energy, thus doing their part to save the planet. I had a sneaky suspicion it was bullshit and the only thing they cared about saving was some money. But oh well, as long as I have clean sheets now, I wouldn’t complain. Plus, I never let maids in my room when I stay in hotels. The Do Not Disturb sign is always on my door.

I found the remote and as I laid there flipping through the channels, something amazing happened. I stumbled upon an episode of Dragnet on a network called RTV. I was very excited and quite intrigued. I have not seen an episode of Dragnet on television in at least ten years.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and graciously piggybacked on the motel’s free wi-fi and looked up the programming schedule for this fascinating network. What I saw nearly blew my mind!

Apparently, the R in RTV stood for Retro and right before Dragnet started, Adam 12 was on. And coming up next it was a four-hour-of-power line-up with Rockford Files, Magnum P.I., Simon & Simon and Knight Rider. Then, after that block of awesomeness, the late night started off with Wolfman Mac’s Chiller Drive-In Theater! In the morning, we would get Lassie, Saved by the Bell, He-Man, She-Ra and so much more! This was way too much for my brain to comprehend and I would be perfectly content spending my entire vacation in this room watching these wonderful shows! I just knew Elise and the kids were going to ruin it for me with their desire to actually go out and enjoy the beach.

BOOK: Lemons 02 A Touch of Danger
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