Disappearance (32 page)

He reached the access road that led to the Glass estate thirty-five minutes after leaving Lisa at the playground, wondering if there was still reason.

Fifteen minutes later he saw the rental car exit the driveway. He followed it down to Thousand Oaks Boulevard then on to the Ventura Freeway south toward LA.   It was past eleven and traffic was reasonably light.  The Olds was doing eighty and Mikki's Cavalier was straining to keep up.

The Olds exited the freeway at DeSoto, in the San Fernando Valley, turned north on Ventura Boulevard and drove into a small shopping center just beyond the intersection.  Mikki parked on Ventura just past the shopping center and stretched to see where his man was heading.  He saw him enter a small office suite between a grocery store and a bicycle shop, taking no precautions to conceal his movements.  The shopping center was virtually deserted with both grocery store and bicycle shop closed for business, only their signs flashing overhead.  The sign over the small suite the man had entered was dimly lit but Mikki managed to discern the name.  It read: 'Cascade Realty' and had a rather peculiar logo that from a distance looked like an erupting volcano.

Mikki remained in his car.   He considered sneaking around back in hopes of finding an opening through which he could see or hear something, but thought the better of it, not wanting to risk revealing the fact that he was on to them.

He still had no ideas and no proof of who they were and whether or not they were involved in their affair.  It may have been a little odd to be prowling around deserted shopping centers in the middle of the night, but that did not prove anything. The man could be out looking to invest in Southern California real estate.

But it was certainly worth further investigation he surmised, unable make out the license plate numbers of the cars parked in front of the real estate office.

He hesitated on how to proceed.  On first appraisal, it looked to be less suspicious if he was to inadvertently drive his car into the shopping center and pretend to be searching for an address of sorts.   He'd seen one other car circling the center with no apparent purpose then leave.  But on further consideration he chose to approach on foot and use the cover of darkness.

Cascade Realty was situated across from where Mikki was parked, on the opposite side of the U-shaped shopping center. Mikki checked he had a pen, got out of his car, crossed to the other side of the boulevard,
then crossed back to the real estate office side.  The shopping center had a paved walkway in front of the shops shielded by a triangular roof around its entire perimeter with no established lighting other than sparse illumination coming from billboards and flashing signs in store display windows.

Mikki walked carefully staying close to the store fronts, keeping out of the line of sight of anyone who might be looking out from Cascade's windows or doors.  He was two doors away from the grocery store when the real estate office door creaked open and a man came out.  Mikki instinctively ducked into the doorway of the store he was passing and stopped breathing.  The cavity was barely large enough to conceal his body, but there were no light sources coming out any of its windows and it was partially obscured by a bulletin board that stuck out near the grocery store.

The man lit a cigarette and leaned on one of the wooden columns that held up the triangular roof.  He looked out into the parking area and inhaled loudly.

Mikki remained stiff in his position, his heart pounding.  He was building up a cold sweat, his shoulder and stomach muscles feeling awfully taut.

He stole a peek and noticed the man's profile silhouetted against the wooden post.  He was of average height, neatly dressed in a suit and looked to be well built.  His features were sharp, his hair crew-cut short and a large golden earring embellished his left ear.

The realty office door opened a second time and he heard a voice.  "Hey, Steve, throw that thing away, we need you in here."

The man with the cigarette turned. 

"Relax Phil," he replied. "Remember the Carson family motto: never let them see you sweat.  Johnny himself said it."

"Yeah, yeah," the voice responded, "where have I heard that before? Will you get back in here, the man is waiting."

The man called Steve extinguished his cigarette with his foot and walked slowly back in, the door was closed shut and Mikki breathed a sigh of relief.

He waited another minute then inched closer.  The rental car was parked closest to him with the two other cars right beside it.  He had reached the grocery store and, squatting down, could make out the license plate numbers by the light of a flashing Budweiser sign.  The closest one, a Chrysler LeBaron, had California license plate CURSE1.  The second, a Ford Thunderbird, had a Nevada license plate 4RTE5A.  Not bothering with the rental car, he jotted down the numbers on the palm of his hand and slid quietly away.

It was another hour before the dark man came out.  He got into his car and roared the engine to life.  Mikki decided to ignore  him,  figuring  he  was  done  for  the  night  and  was probably heading back to his hotel.

He waited for the others.

Three men came out ten minutes later.  Mikki recognized the man called Steve get into the Thunderbird on the driver's side. A fragile, elderly looking person with a notable patch of white hair joined him, taking the passenger seat.  The third man got into the LeBaron.  Mikki decided to follow him, figuring if anything, the one driving the car with California State license plates was most likely to lead him somewhere.

The Thunderbird disappeared on the Ventura freeway south ramp.  The LeBaron headed north, exiting at Westlake Village. When it veered up the incline toward the inn, Mikki had no more doubts.

He watched from a distance as the LeBaron stopped next to the same car that had trailed him earlier, now parked outside his Inn.   A short exchange between the two obscured drivers ended in a manila envelope being passed to the parked car. The LeBaron took off immediately after.

Mikki put his car in gear and drove away.

CHAPTER 32

Lisa had a terrible night.  She waited up, nervously walking about her room, until she collapsed into a fitful drowse that brought about a host of delirious hallucinations.  She woke up in a pool of sweat, still dressed in the previous evening's attire, all wrinkled and smeared. She looked at her watch and rushed to the bathroom. It was seven, Saturday morning.  Her plane was departing in three hours.

The farewell was brief.  Her mother, barely awake and still in her nightgown, hugged her gently and stuffed a sealed envelope into her handbag.  She stood alone by the doorway waving goodbye as the taxi pulled away.

Her father had already left for work.

Lisa looked out the cab window without seeing a thing.  The scenery sped by like a silent film as she moped and tried to appraise the situation.

She was worried about Mikki.

She had expected to hear from him before leaving for the airport, certain he would make contact to update her on the developments of the night.

It wasn't like him to just disappear, she agonized.

Campour had been mostly silent the rest of the evening.  If he had noticed any change in Lisa's behavior, he did not show it.

He had excused himself to make a phone call shortly before leaving, then said his goodbyes and politely asked her father to escort him to the door.

Lisa watched him drive away wondering if Mikki was out there waiting.  Later, when Mikki didn't show, she began to have second thoughts.   She began to scold herself for being too hasty in ascertaining Campour's involvement and suggesting that Mikki follow him.  If her suspicions were  wrong then Mikki, most likely, was still sleeping comfortably in his room at the inn, having found nothing to support her convictions. But what if she had been right? Who knows what could have happened to him? Maybe the worst of all?

It made her feel sick.

She kept returning to Mikki's question from the previous night. "Why have they allowed us to go on?"

Could they still be far enough away from posing any serious threat to anyone? Campour may have shown up to try and get a feel for just how far away they were.  On the other hand, could he really be an innocent business partner of her father's?

They were still fishing, she thought, or else something would already have been done to stop them.  If anyone was on to them, they must have a very good reason for keeping their distance.  Something was holding them back for now, but not be for long.

In any event, the possibility that her suspicions were true would launch them into an entirely new state of affairs where they would have to make significant adjustments and operate with extreme care while the conspiracy was still speculating.

She felt trapped inside the small cabin in the back seat of the cab racing all the way to the airport, with a constant urge to get out, find Mikki, and shake him hard for answers.

The check-in lines were dragging. Feeling unresolved, she stood fidgeting behind an elderly lady with a brim hat and absent-mindedly watched the terminal traffic.  A family of six was walking in her direction, having trouble handling their luggage on two carts.  The blonde mother and tall, handsome father were pushing the carts each holding a little girl in their arms.  Their older children, a boy and an older daughter were futilely trying to keep the pile of luggage balanced on the carts as the suitcases kept sliding off the sides.  Behind them, a man with a baseball cap and dark sunglasses walked by swiftly pushing an empty cart.  He was partially obscured by the family when Lisa first noticed him, but when he overtook them he seemed vaguely familiar and she noticed him holding on to a small sign affixed to the cart handle.  Her gaze averted to the sign.  It did not seem to make sense for a moment,
then she realized what she was seeing and gasped in surprise.

The sign had her name on it, written in Hebrew.  She nearly lunged at the man as he passed by her but held herself in check at the last moment when she simultaneously recognized who he was.

She watched as he walked to the end of the terminal, saunter around for a few minutes then walked back toward her.

The family had reached the line and taken their positions behind her, fussing with their entourage.  One of the little girls spat her pacifier on the floor and Lisa crouched to pick it up, watching Mikki carefully as he passed by a second time.

His sign had been reversed, displaying a little sketch that again had Lisa baffled for a brief moment before she grasped its meaning.  It was the universal female sign next to a universal sign for a toilet.

Mikki continued walking away from her, stopping near the wome
n’
s toilets by the escalator to the gates, pretending to tie his shoes.  Watching him from the corner of her eye, she saw he had completed fussing with his shoes. Then he glanced quickly around and disappeared into the ladies room.

Lisa handed the pacifier back to the blonde mother who stuffed it back into the little girl's mouth.

"Thanks," she said apologetically, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, assuming a more comfortable stance.

"What's her name?"  Lisa asked, glancing over the mother's shoulder not really paying attention.

"Kelly," the mother said, smiling proudly at her daughter, brushing her blonde hair back, exposing a pretty face.  Lisa smiled and looked around.  There were still four parties ahead of her in line to check in. She turned to the blonde mother.

"Could you watch my luggage a minute?  I need to go to the ladies room."

"Sure," the mother said humorously. "What are two more suitcases?"

"Thanks," Lisa said, hopping over the check-in column chain. "Just kick them forward if the line moves.  I'll be back in a sec."

She had the urge to run but restrained herself and walked casually toward the toilets.  There were at least ten cubicles in the large chamber.   Three were occupied.  The one furthest from the entrance briefly swayed open.   Mikki was there, motioning to her.   She hurried in and they locked the door behind her.

"Where on earth have you been?" she whispered smiling, noticeably relieved to see him.

He took off his Angels baseball cap and sunglasses and smiled back.

Spontaneously, she reached up and hugged him, then kissed his face and stepped back.

"Like my little Hebrew prank?" he said.

"Thank god for Sunday School," she remarked. "I was counting on that," he said, still grinning.

"You had me worried Mikki.  What happened last night?"

"You were right, Lisa.  Those guys have us followed," he proclaimed, then, turning all business, quickly recounted the events of the night, watching her worried face turn grim.

"They may have been on to us from day one," he remarked in conclusion.

She looked baffled.
"In Israel too?"

He shook his head. "I doubt it."

"How do you figure?" she asked inquisitively.

"Your father is the weak link in this whole business.   They must have had him under surveillance and discovered us in the process."