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Authors: B L Hamilton

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BOOK: Murder and Mayhem
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Danny smiled. “I’d like that.”

Nicola veered right at an intersection, and descended
down a narrow winding road barely wide enough to accommodate a small car. As
the road twisted and turned around blind hair-pin bends cut into the side of
the hill to accommodate the massive trunks of giant redwood trees, Danny
couldn’t help wondering if it was one way -but saw no signs.

Homes jutted out over the side of the hill on
precarious looking platforms, or hung suspended over the edge of the precipice
on massive concrete foundations, or wooden stilts, surrounded by giant redwood
trees that blocked out all hope of ever seeing the sun.

As if in answer to his unspoken question a car rounded
a bend at breakneck speed–and confronted them head on.

 Danny felt the blood drain from his face as he made a
grab for the dashboard. But Nicola never flinched. This was an everyday
occurrence. She backed onto a wooden platform that served as parking atop a
large house that seemed to defy all sense of gravity, as it hung suspended
below them, with no obvious means of support. When the other driver sped past
they smiled and waved.

“Scary stuff,” Nicola teased, but Danny said nothing,
preferring to keep his own counsel, at least until he could find his voice.

Before he had time to recover, Nicola pulled the BMW
off to the side of the road, but kept the engine running. Danny looked out the
side window and wondered if she knew just how close she had parked to the edge.
His hands went to the dashboard knowing it would not save him–but white-knuckle
gripped it just the same.

Nicola noted the action and hid a smile as she leaned
forward and pointed.

“That’s the Dipsea steps down there. It’s a very old
set of wood and stone stairs that start at the bottom, on Cascade Drive.” 

Danny could barely make out the road through the trees
some two hundred feet below.

“Then crosses over Marion and continues on up the
hill,” Nicola indicated with a wave of her hand.

Danny’s eyes followed the staircase that led somewhere
beyond the crest of the hill. Across it lay a spill of sunlight and birdsong.
The stairs looked damp, some dripping water. Suddenly there was movement in the
shadows. A deer leaped out and disappeared into the undergrowth. Danny was
startled–but Nicola never batted and eyelid.

“From there the trail goes through Muir Woods and Mount
Tam State Park to Stinson Beach, on the coast. The steps are built over a
natural water course and when it rains the water pours over the rocks and
splashes onto the steps making them extremely slippery and dangerous to walk
on.”

Danny glanced cautiously over the edge of the
precipice, and tightened his grip on the dashboard. “Uh-huh,” he muttered
gingerly, his voice having failed him again.

“There’s about three hundred steps in this section of
the Dipsea..., ” Nicola continued, “…leading down to the township. It’s much
quicker than walking down the winding road…” she looked over at Danny and
grinned, “… but, it’s the almost vertical climb back up that’s the killer.”

Danny nodded but didn’t dare move fearing the
slightest movement would send them hurtling over the edge.

“A couple of homes are built on the Dipsea, but the
people who live there have to park their cars at the bottom of the steps on
Cascade Drive, or up here on Marion, and carry everything either up or down
those steps. 

Nicola eased the car back onto the road and headed
down the hill. A short time later she pulled the black BMW into a pebbled
driveway, and cut the engine.

“Well, this is what I call home.”

Danny looked at the house barely visible through the
trees where the sun glistened on the dew on roof, and the air was filled with
birdsong. The setting reminded him of something out of a fairytale.

What a perfect beginning to an adventure, he thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

FIVE

 

 

 

Drew stuck his head around the open door and looked
in.

“How is our girl doing?” he whispered.

I put my finger to my lips in a
shushing
gesture closed my laptop and slid off the bed. Neither of us spoke as I
followed Drew into the lounge where we could talk without disturbing my sister.

Drew lowered his body onto an overstuffed chair,
leaned back, crossed his ankles and laced his fingers behind his head.

“Did she eat anything?”

“A little,” I said as I curled up on the couch and
tucked my feet under. “I made her some soup and she managed to keep a few
spoonfuls down.”

Drew nodded. “That’s good. At least it’s a start.”

I smiled. “Yes, it is.” I watched as he massaged his
fingers up and down on the back of his head. He looked weary.

“Have you eaten? Can I get you something?”

“No, thanks, Bee, I’m fine. I had a business lunch
that went on until well into the afternoon.” Drew
looked around. The house was quiet.

“Where's Cody?”

I shrugged. “Who knows? Where would any
sixteen-year-old boy be on a Friday night?  With the weekend looming large
they’d be out planning some kind of havoc and destruction on the rest of us.”

My brother-in-law laughed. “That sounds about right.
And, Ross?”

“Oh, he’s probably out there planning some destruction
of his own. He went to San Raphael to see a guy about a bike, somewhere on
Lucas Valley Drive.”

Drew gave another lighthearted
laugh and said, “At least it keeps him off the streets and out of the pubs.”

“Well–out of the pubs anyway. The streets will have to
take care of themselves.”

Drew ran his fingers through his thick thatch of brown
hair peppered with gray and stretched. I couldn’t help notice the fine lines
etched in the corners of his eyes and around his mouth that I’m sure weren’t
there before my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. Rosie’s illness has
taken its toll on all who love her, in the most unexpected ways.

His eyes strayed to the closed bedroom door–and back.

“Thank you for being here, Bee. I don’t know how I
would have managed without you and Ross. I hope you didn’t mind me phoning,
unloading my problem onto you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I’m glad you did. As soon as I got off the phone I
rang the airlines and made a reservation on the first plane out of Sydney. We
planned to come anyway, but whenever I spoke to Rosie she kept putting me off.
She said it wasn’t necessary. Said she could manage. She said they thought they
were most probably cysts. I’m so grateful you rang me as soon as you got the
results of the biopsy.”

“Thank God you were here for the surgery. I don’t know
how I would have coped without your help.”

“Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away.”

A thoughtful expression played across Drew’s face. I
decided to allow him time alone with his thoughts. I
unwound my legs and stood up. “I’m going to make some tea, can I get you
anything?”

“No, thanks I’ve got paperwork to catch up on. If I
can get through it tonight hopefully it’ll free me up for the weekend.” He
removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose – his mind caught up in
a distraction.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Try not to work too
late,” I said knowing my cautionary words would fall on deaf ears.

 

. . .

 

Ross padded barefoot and bare-chested into the room.
Dark blue tattoos adorned his body like some form of modern day hieroglyphics.
He pulled back the cover, climbed onto the bed and grabbed a motorbike manual
from the stack of magazines that seemed to grow daily on the bedside table.

“Look at those little fingers go. What kind of murder
and mayhem are you planning now?”

“Yours, if you don’t be quiet. I’m on a roll here…”

It’s real scary when I have moments of temporary
sanity.

 

*****

 

The house was a gray ranch-style with charcoal
shutters and trim; and a chimney rising at the back.

Danny grabbed his bag out of the trunk and followed
Nicola inside. As she dropped her keys and sunglasses on a small table by the
door, he took a moment to look around.

Off to the right, a set of stairs led down to what
Danny assumed to be another level of what appeared at first glance, to be a
single level bungalow.

“That’s where I keep all the junk I should get rid of
but never seem to get around to doing. I’m sure you know what it’s like,”
Nicola said and headed down the hallway.

Danny fell into step beside her. “Yeah, I’ve got one
of those but mine’s filled with a jungle of motorcycle parts that will
hopefully grow up to become shiny new Harley Davidson motorcycles.”

Nicola smiled as she stopped in front of an open door
on the right, and said, “You can put your things in here.” She wasn’t sure what
he expected – but then, neither was she.

Danny dropped his bag on the floor by the bed and
looked around.

“This is nice,” he said as she caught his eye with a
smile he wanted to own.

“Bathroom’s through there.” Nicola’s voice dropped
away as they stared at each other for an awkward moment then took a step back.

“Come on I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

Danny followed her down to a partially open door on
the left where a light breeze drifted in through an open window and stirred
dust motes bathed in golden light from a large skylight set high in the
ceiling, above the bed.

“That’s my room,” Nicola said. She hoped he wouldn’t
look inside.

Danny ducked his head around the partially open door
and peeked in.

It was a pleasant enough room that revealed little by
way of furniture or furnishings, except for a photograph in an ornate frame
that sat on the nightstand next to the bed. Although there was nothing
particularly remarkable about the picture the fact that it sat facing the bed,
spoke volumes. It was the passport-size snapshot he had sent her last May
–enlarged and framed in silver. He looked at Nicola, and smiled.

Nicola felt the heat of embarrassment bloom over her
features. “The main living area’s down here.” She turned on her heels and
hurried down the polished wood floor to a large open doorway at the end of the
hall.

Danny followed Nicola into a room that was bright and
airy, and was surprised by the size. It had high ceilings and tall windows. At
one end a modern kitchen and dining area where crystal vases filled with
long-stemmed yellow roses created a striking effect on the black marble bench
top and polished burr
-
wood table; a dozen
roses in each vase. 

He smiled. “I see you got my roses.”

“Yes. They’re lovely. Thank you. How did you know
yellow roses were my favorite?”

“I remembered you mentioned it some time ago.”

Set in a wall a gas fireplace was surrounded by
white-wooden shelves that housed books, a hi-fi system and collection of
miniature sculptures made from colored glass. On either side of the shelving
were large windows trimmed in white wood where lamps with silk shades sat on
small tables.

A laptop sat on a desk next to a telephone, a lamp and
small stack of books beneath a window that looked out onto a garden. Beyond the
desk stood a baby grand piano, the bright sun reflecting off the polished white
surface.

“Do you play?” Danny asked.

“No. It belonged to my mother. She was a wonderful
pianist. When she played the music would carry you away. She’d sit at the
keyboard and play for hours. Mozart, Chopin, Strauss, Bach, and Bacharach were
her favorite composers.”

“But you don’t play?”

“No. Mom tried to teach me when I was about eight, but
I was impatient, I hated having to practice every day for hours. Eventually we
both gave up.”

“So you don’t play at all?”

Nicola shrugged. “Occasionally I’ll sit at the
keyboard and tinkle but I’m not very good.”

“I’m sure you’re a much better pianist than you give
yourself credit for. I’d love you to play for me some time.”

Nicola laughed. “Then you’ll need to buy a set of
industrial earplugs, because, believe me, you are going to need them.”

Suddenly the shrill of the telephone cut through the
air. Nicola smiled an apology walked over to the desk and picked it up.

“Hello,” she said distractedly. Her eyes followed
Danny to a pair of Ansel Adams photographs that had belonged to her father.

BOOK: Murder and Mayhem
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ads

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