Love Story: In The Web of Life (24 page)

"Fine," I replied.

"I understand you want to go to Rocky Butte day
after tomorrow."

"Yes, I plan to drive up. I have to take a lot
of stuff."

"No, we would strongly recommend flying. Our
man will pick you up at the airport. Fly from Burbank to Sacramento
on Air California." He took out his iPhone and texted a message.
Can you make the 9:15?"

I said, "Yes."

He then said a courier would come to my office
tomorrow afternoon at 4:00 to pick up any packages of material I
needed in Rocky Butte. His phone buzzed, he read the text message
and said, "You are on the 9:15.

"No one is to make their own reservations, but
everyone should use their own name and passport when they
travel."

"This afternoon, a courier will deliver a
letter of travel arrangements and instructions for you and another
letter for your witnesses, and spouses or
significant others
. We insist on making travel
arrangements for everyone who will visit the ranch. Anybody
arriving unexpectedly will be substantially
inconvenienced."

"I get it," I said. I thought
'shot-on-sight.'

"Fine," he replied. "It is a pleasure doing
business with you. We are certain everyone will enjoy the
arrangements."

He stood up and shook my hand and said, "Have a
safe and successful visit to Rocky Butte."

As he walked away, I wondered if everyone
Colson did business with was so wishy-washy.

When I got back to the office, Zaza said, "Who
was that? Carolyn said he was so spooky she was hiding under her
desk. She thought he was one of those Men In Black, like in the
movie, and he would zap her memory or come back and machine gun the
place."

I told Zaza he was Mr. Burton–I never got his
first name or even saw the eyes he had hidden under his
glasses–from EB Services, Colson's security consultants, here to
discuss arrangements for people coming to Rocky Butte for the
trial. I briefed Zaza on what Burton had outlined and the
arrangements. I didn't tell her about my
significant other
arrangements.

As promised, the courier arrived with the
letters. I emailed Candice that I was sending her detailed travel
arrangement by a courier, that we had rented a Dude Ranch, and that
I hoped Tom could join us at our expense. I did the same for Phil
Gallagher at UCLA. I also invited Steve and Georgia to come spend a
couple of days at the ranch, to make sure he was readily available,
and described the security concerns.

When I arrived home, the apartment was filled
with the lovely smell of something cooking. There were candles on
the table with a vase of flowers, and place settings of unfamiliar
plates.

"In here," I heard Tina call from the kitchen.
As I walked in, I saw her stirring something in a large frying pan,
also not mine.

"Thai stir-fry," she said as she walked over
and greeted me with a big, long sensuous kiss. "Just a minute, I am
almost finished, she said turning back to cooking and then turning
off the stove. "Pour the wine."

I poured the wine and gave her a glass as she
wiped her hands on a towel. She grabbed me around the waist, backed
me up, pressed me against a cabinet, and looked up, batted her eyes
and then said in a husky voice, "How was your day, big
boy?"

"Great," I stammered. "Look, I have a surprise
for you. If you want, you can join me at Rocky Butte. We have
rented a dude ranch there, complete with caretakers and a cook. The
client will provide transportation and make all arrangements. When
is school over?"

"Friday." She paused and then asked. "Can I
come up Saturday?"

"That will be wonderful!"

She pressed me against the cabinet again, so
hard I could hardly breathe, turned slightly and unbuttoned her
blouse, then pressed against me again, looked up, batted her eyes
and said, in her fake southern accent, "Oh dearie me, dinner won't
be ready for a while. Oh! What should we do?"

****

Chapter Seven

DAVID UNDERSTANDS

Wednesday, as instructed, I took the 9:15 Air
California flight from Burbank to Sacramento. As I was waiting at
the baggage carousel, I heard 'Mr. Willard?' I turned around a saw
a very athletic looking cowboy, about five foot two, maybe thirty
years old, wearing worn jeans, a well worn Stetson hat, a large
silver belt buckle, scuffed cowboy boots worn down at the heel, and
a striped shirt with mother of pearl buttons down the front and on
the flapped pockets. His face was very tan and weathered looking,
with wrinkles that made him look older than he was. He had intense
blue eyes.

"I'm Buster Cabot. I am here to provide you
transportation to the ranch," he said, with a Texas cowboy
accent.

He gave me his card that read "Buster Cabot, EB
Services, Inc." I observed there was no title.

"Pleased to meet you," I replied, taken
somewhat aback. I was expecting a uniformed Towne Car driver
instead of a cowboy.

As we watched the bags circulate on the
carousel, Buster volunteered that the ranch was about an hour and a
half from the airport. When my bags came Buster took them saying,
follow me and continued out the terminal door. We walked to the
first floor of the parking structure, identified as short-term
parking. Buster walked over to a large green pickup truck, a GMC
from the days when there were two large headlights, only one on
each side, probably the 1960s, with rust showing everywhere through
the faded green paint, including rust holes at the bottom of the
doors and rust on wheels that had long ago lost their hubcaps. He
put my bags in the pickup bed alongside a tool compartment and some
oily looking agricultural equipment. As I opened the door, it
squeaked and them clanked as I closed it. Surprisingly, the
interior was well–kept, obviously redone. We drove away on the
airport road. Buster was quiet and concentrating on looking out the
rear view mirrors. When we came to the Exit-Return interchange, at
the entrance to the airport, Buster took the Return branch and we
circulated through some of the service and car rental
areas.

After we finally departed the airport, Buster
said, without the Texas cowboy accent, "Sorry for the delay, I
wanted to make sure no one was following us. I should introduce
myself. I will be in charge of your security at the ranch and your
personal bodyguard."

I wondered if EB Services was some kind of
low-budget operation.

Buster continued, "EB Services is sort of my
day job. It fills the time between my gigs as a
stuntman."

"Like in the movies?" I asked.

"Yes, I have done a lot of Westerns, but they
are not doing many anymore, so I play bad guys in movies where
there are many fight scenes. I am a martial arts expert and even
was in a Jackie Chan movie. These days, I do work where I am in a
harness supported by wires in acrobatic fight scenes, the kind
where you run up walls and jump over buildings. This truck is a
movie truck. It didn't get looking like this on its own. It is
sometimes rented from me when I am on a movie. Also, it has a
special suspension and a good engine."

He pressed on the accelerator pedal, and it
sped up like a sports car.

"It handles well in chase scenes, real or in
the movies. It won't attract much attention in Rocky
Butte."

He reached underneath the center of the dash.
Something clicked and a compartment dropped down. In it was a gun,
not a western type, more like you see bad guys in modern movies
carrying. Next to it was a small red cylinder that looked like a
miniature fire extinguisher.

"Is that real?" I asked

'Yes, and it is licensed and legal. That
cylinder is bear spray. It is a harmless pepper spray that is
designed to stop a grizzly bear at thirty feet. It is useful for
protecting yourself when it wouldn't be appropriate to shoot
somebody, or take the time to break some bones."

I noticed that he had a particular delight in
saying, 'break some bones.'

"If you know the secret latches to pull, I'll
show you later, the back of the seat folds down and there are two
shotguns there."

"Just like in the movies," I observed. "Who are
you usually protecting when you are not protecting lawyers in small
towns?"

"We have all kinds of clients. I have another
persona where I do the black suit with microphones up the sleeves
kind of thing, and drive armored limousines. We do mostly
executives and entertainment people, rock stars, and all that.
Sometimes, it is some important person from a Middle Eastern
country. We have had quite a bit of special training. I don't get
to use my truck very often. However, you will not get any less
thorough protection than some foreign minister.”

"Tell me about the ranch and the
arrangements."

"The Rocky Butte Adventure Ranch is about ten
miles south of town, off on a dirt road two miles from the highway.
It has a main lodge where you will stay, and six rather plush
hunting lodges–type cabins where visitors will stay. We will all
eat family style in the main lodge. My wife, Sofia, will cook and
serve as a bodyguard. She is also highly trained in martial arts
and works as a stunt person in the movies."

I added, "I'll be careful not to complain about
the cooking."

Buster didn't flinch or laugh as he continued,
"Your witnesses have been instructed to make their travel
arrangements through us. They will fly to Sacramento as you did and
then will be met by our representative. Don't worry, they will be
wearing limo driver clothes and have town cars. They will be taken
to another small airport where they will board a small twin-engine
chartered plane that will fly them to the dirt strip on the ranch.
I understand you will be having a guest."

"Yes, Tina Quail," I replied. “She will come
Saturday and stay for the length of our time here. My legal
assistant, a young attorney, Elizabeth McKenzie, will be joining us
also and staying in one of the cabins. I guess she can ride with me
when I drive to court.”

"We must insist on Tina staying on the ranch
and out of Rocky Butte until the trial is over. We do not want to
risk any sort of hostage situation. Sofia will be her companion
when she goes for a swim, hike, or ride."

"Will I have a car, or is this my
transportation?"

Buster laughed and then said, "No, we have
prepared a lawyer-proper car for you. Nothing fancy, a Chevy Camaro
about two years old."

"Prepared? Secret compartments with
guns?"

"No, we have added a few security features that
I'll show you later.

"We have some information, photographs etc., on
the guy who has been stalking you. Our intelligence from a reliable
source says he is working alone. He is code named 'Mr. S.' He
doesn't appear to be very smart."

"Reliable intelligence source?" I
asked.

Buster didn't respond, but went on, "We have
also rented an old farmhouse on the way to the ranch, off the same
dirt road. You will let it be known around town that you are
staying there. One of our guys, call him your stunt double, Cody
Stevens, will stay there and provide a nice welcome for Mr. S if he
shows up.

"We will also have two of my guys in town
staying at the Riverside Motel. You will probably never meet them.
They will be doing things for me and might provide transportation
as needed. Also, Dore has a person with a San Jose Times press pass
who will be attending the court sessions. She will keep Dore
informed on what transpires in court. You will get a copy of her
dispatches."

I was quiet for a while. I thought about the
other Mr. S in Candice and Tom's back yard.

"Buster, I compliment you on your planning. It
seems very thorough. I won't have to worry about anything but the
trial."

"That's our job," he replied.

"By the way, what does the 'EB' in EB Services
stand for?"

"Executive babysitting, or so I have been
told."

The rest of the way to Rocky Butte was spent
talking about movies he had been on and some of the interesting
cases I had worked. When I mentioned the Norton Simon museum,
Buster knew all about it and discussed his favorite picture there,
The Rag Picker by Manet. Apparently there was more to Buster than
this cowboy persona.

After we turned off the highway onto the dirt
road, we drove for about a half mile through the pine forest and
then turned onto a driveway that led to a clearing with a boxy
two-story farmhouse, apparently dating from the early 1900s. It was
well maintained, painted grey, with white shutters, a new roof, and
short eaves like the houses in New England. Four sycamore trees,
very green with their late spring foliage, surrounded
it.

"You should look around inside so you can talk
as though you are familiar with the place. Inspect the kitchen in
case you have to describe it to someone. It looks as if it has been
recently redone."

Inside, the house was attractively furnished. I
surmised that it was a vacation rental property by how the kitchen
was equipped with dishes and cooking utensils.