Chapter 4
Susan was mulling over what she was doing on this day, which so far had been completely out of character for her. She wasn't sure if she was running to or from something, and was not even sure what that something was. A cynical element in her mind suggested that she was trying to run from 30 back to 18 years old again. But she discarded that thought. That scenario may have triggered her reaction - her 'awakening', as her life to this point spread itself out before her with a vivid clarity. What she saw was how narrow her focus had become. There was more to her. There was more to life. What ever it was it slumbered in the darkest basements of her existence, and she wanted to awaken it, feel what it is, reinvent herself and be part of the adventure.
As Susan entered the Village of Soquel through the back door road, the edge of a fog bank fuzzed the sun that held the cool clouds at bay from venturing any further inland. At the moment gray weather ruled the coastal day, but Susan knew that the sun could easily cook the earth clinging clouds away by early afternoon.
She quickly passed through Soquel and found a parking spot close to the knee high cement wall that separated the village of Capitola from the beach. It didn't seem cold, but she grabbed a sweater from the back seat anyway and wandered down the sidewalk next to the wall until she found a wide area empty of people. She sat down on the wide top of the wall, pulled her legs under her chin with her arms wrapped around her knees and stared out across the expanse of sand at the still water lapping gently on the beach. A group of teenager in shorts played volley ball as if it was a sunny day. Others sat huddled on blankets waiting for the sun to appear as if it was late for a concert.
"Here you are." she heard a male voice behind her. She turned and stared for a split second at the grinning man behind her before she recognized him. He was big - about 6' 4", Thick shoulder and muscular arms in a tank top, which showed off a slight beer belly. He had dirty blond hair, chiseled features and the cold, blue eyes of a person who probably tortured small animals when he was a kid. Her heart jumped as she realized it was the man with the Auston-Healey.
Though her heart was pounding, she quickly masked her surprise with a look of composure, but not quick enough. He saw her shock, giving him a subtle feeling of power within the moment.
"I don't know what your problem is." Susan said with a tinge of poison in her tone, "but I don't want anything to do with you and I want you to go away and leave me alone."
The man's chuckle held venom rather than joy. "Ah, come on now. I saw you with that hippie back on Soquel. Is that as good as you can do? You probably couldn't handle a real man like me. I've got a very big cock."
Susan spit out a laugh of disgust. "Oh, brother." she said. "I'm sorry, asshole, but I think you have mistaken me for the type of airhead bimbo that I'm sure you're used to. I've got an M.A. from Stanford, top of my class. I need something a little more cerebral than a big dick to impress me, and I'm pretty sure you're very small in that area. Now get the hell away from me."
This time he threw his head back and laughed, then looked down at her with his cold eyes, his smile thinning to a straight line. "Okay, enough play time, Susan. Time to get down to business."
This time Susan could not hide the shock on her face. "How did you know my name?"
"Well, Susan Jenkins, I know a lot about you. I already knew you went to Stanford, and I knew you would be a snooty bitch too, but that's irrelevant to our business.
"I've got to tell you though, Susan, you lead one boring life. At least I thought you did until today. The boyfriend was a new element. He didn't come up at all in my research."
Her mouth dropped in astonishment. "You've been researching my life? Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
"I've been tailing you for two weeks. You go to work, go to the gym, go home. I've never seen such a boring life." He paused. "But, since I'm not getting what I want, and I'm tired to waiting, I decided it was time we met."
"Want?" she asked in confusion. "What is it you want?"
"Jeff." he said simply.
Now she was really confused. The only Jeff she could think of was her brother, and he had died at sea three years ago.
"I don't know anybody named Jeff." She said.
"Now, don't go telling me lies, Susan. That could be very unhealthy." he said softly.
"I'm not telling you lies. The only Jeff I can think of is my brother, and he died three years ago."
"Yeah, right." he said with a chuckle. "He took a sail boat out of the harbor and never came back."
"That's right." she said defiantly. "Pieces of his boat washed up on shore. There is no other conclusion one can reach in the face of the evidence."
"You're wrong about that, little Miss M.A. from Stanford. Another conclusion is that he took the boat out to sea, was met by someone else and he blew the boat up to give the appearance of death at sea. That's the conclusion that my bosses came up with."
"Your bosses? Who are your bosses and what do they want with Jeff?"
"Well, Susan, I would tell you that, but then I'd have to kill you." The accompanying grin was menacing and his tone held no humor.
She looked at him with disgust. "That's a tired joke, and it isn't funny."
He continued as if the implicational threat was nothing. "We were hoping that Jeff may have contact with you, but my, let's say, 'company', is growing impatient to locate him."
This man and who ever he worked for had to be stark raving mad. Jeff, her brother of mystery, was dead. She and her parents had accepted that fact with a great deal of torment, never knowing who he really was as a man. He would come home once a year, and they would not hear from him again until he just showed up on the doorstep at Christmas, packages of expensive gifts in his hands. When questioned about his life, his answers were always vague.
"If he is alive, and I seriously doubt that he is, he has never contacted me. He was a few years older than me, and though we were close as children, he left home when he turned 18 and we heard little of him after that. I don't know what kind of work he did or where he went. All I know is what was relayed to me and my family by the Coast Guard."
The man nodded his head. "I see. That may be true, but I don't think it is. Even if you don't know where he is, I would bet he knows where you are."
Just then a Land Rover pulled up to the curb behind the man. Brad stepped out, catching Susan's eye. The man turned and saw Brad.
"Well, well -" he said turning back to Susan. "If it isn't the boyfriend. I'll be leaving now, Susan. I don't want to hurt your hippie - not here and now, anyway. We'll be talking again real soon." He turned and looked Brad up and down in assessment as Brad stepped up on the curb. The man gave him a look of contempt as he mumbled, "Fuckin hippies.", and casually walked down the street. Brad stopped and watched the man walk away, studying him for a moment, estimating his height, 6' 4", his weight, about 240 pounds, his age, about 40, remembering what his face looked like, almost instinctually casing him as he had done to so many targets. He shook his head as if trying to shift his training from the forefront of his mind.
Susan looked visibly shaken when he walked up to her.
"Are you okay?" he asked with a tone of concern.
"Yes, I think so" she said, her voice shaking.
"You look a little shook up, Susan." Brad put his arm around her, the comfort of which she accepted, leaning into him as if he was already familiar territory.
" Maybe you'd rather have a drink than a coffee." he offered.
"No." she said shaking her head. "A double cappuccino would do me fine right now." As they walked down the street towards the coffee shop the fog began to rise, a struggling dim light presented itself in the mist as the sun. Susan didn't notice. Her mind was spinning from the conversation with Mr. Creepy.
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