The Blue Wall Of Silence Read online

  “Excuse me,” the detective interrupted her thoughts. “Your proof of auto insurance, please.”

  She went through her purse near Andrew, still sleeping soundly. She looked up at the detective with a sheepish smile and gave him the insurance card.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

  He walked away from her, and again she hashed over things. Why’d I spend the money? I wanted to. So what! It’s mine.

  The detective returned. “You were speeding. I’m giving you a warning.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded and stepped back to eye her car. “You’re driving a Bugatti Veyron. I’ve never seen a Bugatti.”

  She turned off the car’s ignition. “They only made four hundred and fifty. You reach over here to this red Bugatti button. Press it. And the car starts.” She stepped on the peddle, revving the engine, hard, three times.

  He jumped back, assaulted by the noise. “Wow! That’s really freaking loud, nice sound to the racing engine.”

  The female detective walked forward, and for a second, she caught the detective’s dark stare. The woman was stunning in her white shirt and black slacks. The way her hair was pulled back tightly from her face added spice to the feminine sweep of her jaw and the slope of her nose. “I’m Detective Davis with the Seal Beach Police Department.” She gave a brittle laugh. “Does every Bugatti cost three million dollars?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Your vehicle registration says your name is Margaret.”

  “Yes.”

  Davis spoke with a passive tone. “But your street name is Meghan. We have a zero-tolerance for gangsters in Seal Beach. Is there a valid reason why you’re concealing your identity with a gangster name?”

  “Conceal?”

  Davis argued with a fake smile. “Why are you so sneaky? If your legal name is Margaret, why don’t you call yourself Margaret.”

  “In Big Bear, everyone calls me Meghan. It started when my brother Simon and his band played at my house down here in Seal Beach. He called me Meghan, and it caught on. Everyone calls me Meghan, down here in Seal Beach too.”

  “Is your brother in Seal Beach now?”

  Meghan answered with a calm tone. “No, he has a room at my house and stays when the waves are good for surfing.”

  “You know why we stopped you?”

  “I was speeding. I am sorry.”

  Detective Davis whispered with a victorious look. “You should drive slower so you can find all the hundred dollar bills on the street. Food is expensive at Marina Grocery.” Davis enjoyed the sound of her voice. She was coaching, as Julie warned back at the marina. Meghan nodded without saying a word. Davis looked down at her. Meghan congratulated herself for staying silent. “Now, in addition to your three million dollar Bugatti, you own this six million dollar beach house, right here, in front of us. And, from Miami, Florida, your fifty-nine foot, two million dollar, black, Cigarette Racing, Tirranna speedboat, with six Mercury, four hundred horsepower, racing engines, back at the Cerritos Bahia Marina.”

  “Yes.”

  Davis moved closer to Meghan’s car window. “You must have a good FICO score.” A fanatic shine gleamed in Davis’ eyes. “What are the monthly payments on ten million dollars in beach toys?”

  “I don’t make payments.”

  Davis was a perfect picture of peace of mind. “Oh.. that makes sense. Since you don’t make enough money to afford any of this.”

  She nodded her head, silent, intrigued by her line of reasoning.

  “Then, why would someone who owns ten million dollars in toys buy groceries with money they found on the street?”

  She stayed silent, curious about the endless questions.

  Davis probed lightly. “Kind of odd?”

  Meghan wondered if she could be baiting her. “Yes, but the truth can be stranger than fiction.”

  Detective Davis waved an arm across the entire neighborhood of Seal Beach and chuckled when she glanced at Murphy. “What do you think, Detective Murphy? Ms. Green says all this is happening because the truth is stranger than fiction.”

  Detective Murphy leaned back against his police cruiser. “Sometimes, it is.” He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets.

  “Sometimes, it isn’t.” Davis turned her attention back to Meghan. “Julie told you to shut up and smile. And you open your mouth and say the truth is stranger than fiction. You’re a real piece of work, long on mouth and short on memory, and that’s why I’ve had to look into you, Ms. Green.” Davis stiffened her posture and squared her shoulders. “You’ve had two monogamous relationships. But you have had many sex buddies, one, a married man.”

  “Yes.”

  Jennifer whistled softly. “Look at you.” Davis casually leaned against her car door, “you, with the married men. Your sexy stallions.” Jennifer nodded in a gesture of admiration. “Do you have a thing for the married men, or did he lie to you about being married?”

  She looked down at the steering wheel. Julie told me to stop talking with my family. Why’d they tell the police about my sex life? My family’s my fatal flaw…

  “Look at me.” Davis narrowed her eyes on her. “You need to look at me. Lady. You must do as I say. You can’t think your way out of this. You look at me when I talk to you, lady.”

  Megan glanced at her, vulnerable and exposed, her head shaking. “I ended it. He lied to me.”

  Jennifer stepped back. “Okay, fine, he lied to you. You ended it.” Davis smiled. “Still, you’re a sneaky little tramp who bumps uglies with married men.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re not even good at being sneaky. I busted you for your sneakiness. You can’t say you’re not busted. I busted you.”

  She lifted her chin, meeting Detective Davis’ gaze. “You don’t think I know that. I appreciate your help, your concern.” She refused to break eye contact. “But, what I need, right now, is for you to lay off of me. Maybe you should just back off.”

  Heavy sarcasm filled Davis’ voice. “I don’t hate you. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I just find it strange you’re buying groceries with money you found on the street.”

  “Strange but true,” she looked away to Andrew.

  Davis replied in a rush of words. “You’ll be questioned later this week at the Seal Beach Police Department. I need a statement from you. I will contact you later. And please drive slower in case you need to find more hundred dollar bills on the street for groceries.”

  She pretended not to care. “Okay.”

  Davis replied with a peaceful, ominous sound. “Kiss your little Bugatti goodbye.”

  6

  Meghan sat in her bay window, facing Ocean Avenue when her mother arrived. It was nine o’clock on Thanksgiving when Denise stepped from a white limousine, wearing a simple blue shirt and white pants. Her brown hair was elegant, like the pearl earrings in her ears. Denise hurried up the driveway, carrying a large wicker basket with crimson poppies and corn.

  Her mom's chic and successful look was typical, with her brown hair falling across her face where a small drop of rain pelted her. There was laughter in her eyes as she looked up. Raindrops fell over her neck and shoulders. Denise lifted a hand, shielding her face from the downpour. She averted her eyes to the ground, where bigger drops of rain bounced hard. Rain splashed into her mom and the trees' green leaves, and then into the bigger puddles of water that washed the driveway clean.

  Dan leaned over and whispered to Meghan. “Your mom brought us rain to help everything grow.” Dan open the front door and ushered Denise into the front room. “Thanks to you, Denise, the water’s pouring down from the sky,” Dan teased Denise. “And cleaning our house.”

  Julie strolled forward, extending a hand. “Thank you for washing the cars and watering the front yard for us.”

  Mrs. Green was suddenly buoyant. They stood there, looking out to the street, and after several minutes had passed, it was as though their front yard had become a waterpark.
Two neighborhood kids were jumping, splashing water, laughing in the heavy rainfall.

  Philip, her next-door neighbor, and Andrew’s real estate partner entered the house from the beachside with a pecan pie. Philip was in blue jeans and a blue sweater with white snowflakes. Meghan’s brother, Simon, who was slightly taller than Philip and dressed in a matching sweater, followed closely.

  Denise Green wandered down the long central corridor to the dining room. “It’s a gardening center. It’s beautiful.” Denise foraged through many of the herbs and house plants among all the colorful blue and orange beach towels. “I’m sure everyone loves sitting here.” Denise was seeing Meghan’s beach house for the first time, and it thrilled her. Everywhere, people hugged and kissed. Denise turned to Dan. “Place this basket of poppies and corn on the dining room table.”

  Dan set the basket in the center of the table. “Crimson poppies symbolize death and resurrection.”

  Denise spoke in a rehearsed tone. “They mean beauty and success.”

  With both hands, Dan waved away her statement. “I learned in high school that crimson poppies are symbols of when someone dies, and then after their death, they come back to life.”

  Philip strolled around, nodding at everyone as he moved. “Meghan’s mom knows best. I’ve seen her flower shops in Ontario and Redlands.”

  “For thousands and thousands of years, from one civilization, culture to the next, corn and crimson poppies have been symbolically diverse. Here, today, they are for my hope for beauty and success in my daughter’s home,” Denise put the issue to rest at last.

  “We’re excited about Thanksgiving up in Big Bear.” Respect filled Philip’s voice. “Since Meghan has lived here, she has taught us how to make apple pastries from scratch and the apple butter you sell on-line from your gift shop and restaurant in Oak Glen. Meghan told us about your apple ranch in Oak Glen and her pick your own strawberry fields in Highland and the flower fields of Lompoc.”

  Denise glanced towards the street and then stared at Andrew’s face. “The limo driver is waiting outside. Andrew, I know you’re hungry.”

  Andrew’s white ski jacket highlighted his tan from surfing. With a right hand, Andrew smiled and saluted Denise. Andrew pointed to himself and then brought both hands together in a praying gesture at his chest before pointing at Denise with his right hand.

  Meghan ran her hands through her hair. “Andrew just signed to you, mom, ‘hello, I am fine, how are you?’”

  “How do I answer?”

  “After pointing to yourself, place both your hands in a prayer at your chest and push out. Then place your fingertips at your lips and push out. That means I’m fine, thanks.”

  After Denise signed to Andrew what Meghan had taught, the lines in Andrew’s eyes deepened as he smiled back and brushed his bleached blond hair from his brow. “Meghan, you must be starved,” Denise squeezed her hand. “Let’s go eat dinner.”

  “Meghan’s not starved, Mrs. Green,” Philip postured with self-confidence. “Meghan already ate.”

  She made a face at Philip. “I did not eat.”

  Philip spoke with quiet but kind firmness. “Yes, you did.”

  “I did not.”

  Panic flared in Denise’s eyes. “I came here to pick up my daughter. And, if my daughter says she didn’t eat, she didn’t eat. Stop interfering in our lives, Philip.”

  “I didn’t eat, mom.”

  Philip insisted. “I saw you eating through the kitchen window, eating with Andrew.”

  Meghan rolled her eyes and turned away from Philip. He was beyond annoying.

  “You know the rule, Meghan.” A cloud of warning settled on Simon’s features. “You stay where you eat. Your father is going to want you to stay down here for Thanksgiving.” Simon’s phone rang, and he put it to his ear. After muttering something, he hung up and returned it to his pocket. “Yep, just confirmed it. Your father wants you to stay down here, forever, Meghan.”

  Denise spun around and strode to the front door, glancing over her shoulder at Meghan’s brother. “Simon, you should think about what you do or say before you do or say it. You know how your father is about eating before Thanksgiving and Christmas. You have no idea what you just started.”

  Meghan and Philip joined them in the front yard. The wind whipped at white flags above the house. It was cold outside. The rainstorm passed, and the garden’s pink flowers sparkled in the wet sunshine.

  “I still wanted to have Thanksgiving dinner with your family.” The way Philip stood there told her he was sorry. “I even brought a pecan pie. Can we please join you in Big Bear?”

  “You’re always fluttering around my daughter, nosing into her business like an owl. You act like an owl. You’re an owl. You want to have Thanksgiving dinner with my family in the mountains, fly to Big Bear like an owl.”

  Nothing was fair about this, and it colored how Meghan felt about her family. And she wouldn’t let Simon do this to her again. “I’m sorry, Philip.”

  7

  She should have seen this coming. She retreated into the house and found Andrew, looking out to sea. She’d grown to love everything about him while surfing and working with him so much of the time. She stood there, silent. He walked to her. And she rushed to hold him, but his body didn’t soothe her. He was at peace, but she was still in chaos.

  Philip stood at the front door, his chin dropped to his chest, with self-loathing stamped on his face. “I didn’t know about…” Philip pressed his hands against his forehead. “The rule of not eating.”

  Andrew signed to her, “I knew the rule. I tricked Meghan because I love her.”

  Julie rose from the dining table. “We all love you, Meghan.”

  Dan carried himself with an air of confidence. “Your mom’s not mad at you, Meghan.”

  For years, Meghan had been ready to build a new life. “Simon betrayed me. He’s not even my brother.”

  Philip looked up and headed toward her. “He’s not?”

  She owed everyone an answer. “Simon came to our house, unannounced, with Christmas gifts for the twelve of us at Big Bear. My father wondered why, since there were only eleven of us in our family. Simon said that one of the presents was for himself. So my father made Simon a member of our family, my brother.” Her voice wobbled into silence, but there was more to be told, and she owed the full story without all the deviant details. “The police came to our house a week later because all the gifts were stolen from a souvenir shop in Arrowhead Springs. My father paid off everyone because Simon’s a child prodigy and a brilliant musician, who’s just misunderstood.”

  In a defensive gesture, Julie folded her hands across her chest. “Your mom knows this is Simon’s fault. Go talk with your mom before she leaves.”

  Meghan rushed outside to the white limousine. The tinted window rolled down. She held her mother’s hand, looking at her clear polished fingernails, manicured cuticles. Her mother wore the Gloria Vanderbilt V neck top she had given to her for a birthday present. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you too, dear.”

  Everything went so wrong so fast she stayed silent for fear of something else bad happening. This is weird, foreign. I’m not myself. If I’d known that this would have happened, I wouldn’t have eaten the food. Will I ever return home? She was so proud of returning, but now she didn’t know why she should be proud. I shouldn’t be proud. Pride goes before a fall.

  For weeks, she’d asked her mom over and over again on the phone if she’d be welcome home in Big Bear. And each time, her mom answered yes, but now there was no coming home. She felt lost, and she didn’t understand anything but the thoughts moving in her mind. I’m lost and fallen into hell. I can’t find my way home. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  8

  Meghan’s safety was the benchmark by which Temple measured his progress. Since Jennifer’s traffic stop, anyone may know Meghan was under investigation by the police and the FBI for her involvement in the murders of a congressman and a police
officer and his family. With Meghan’s safety at risk, Temple changed his approach, budgeting more of his time on the beach, dressed in plainclothes, jogging attire.

  A high surf advisory was in effect due to Hurricane Yolanda. Seagulls soared in the gray skies over big, white-capped waves, smashing into the San Gabriel River and the three breakwaters protecting Alamitos Bay. On the second jetty, across from the San Gabriel River, a fisherman faced Meghan’s house with binoculars. Temple made a mental note to follow up on the fisherman.

  Gale-force winds whipped at the brown coat Temple wore to conceal his handcuffs and Sig Sauer P226 handgun, and while a chestnut-colored Irish Setter, wet from the ocean, barreled toward Temple fast, his paws pounded and splashed through the white foam on the beach.

  The small puppy lowered his head and veered into a flock of white seagulls. The big white birds squawked while frenetically flapping their wings, lifting off the sand, inches above the dog, and landing around the dog, daring him to dance on the beach.

  Temple’s worries over Meghan evaporated, watching the seagulls and the puppy play like children bouncing on a trampoline. Some ten minutes later, A scream pierced the sounds of the beach. Swiveling around, Temple faced a man, arguing with Meghan in her backyard.

  Temple kicked up sand, racing at the man. It was too cold for shorts, and with his long hair, tie-dye t-shirt, he was more like a musician than a surfer, standing on the beach, checking out the waves. He looked out of place next to Meghan, who wore a simple white hoodie and gray sweatpants. Temple slowed a couple of yards away, his breathing sawing in and out of his lungs. “Who is this Meghan?”

  The man’s tone was mocking. “If you must know, I’m her friend.”

  “Do you always answer for your friends?” Temple shoved his FBI card under the man’s well-groomed goatee. “Let’s take a walk, friend.” Temple turned to Meghan. “I’ll be back in a moment, Meghan, but I’m going to talk with this rock star, first.”