Murder in Waiting - Lynn Cahoon Page 0,6
Vegas? If we were all twentysomethings, I would have been done by now. But I know my aunt’s coming, so our ages range from twentysomething to Aunt Jackie. That’s hard to plan for.”
He got out the pork chops and frowned when he saw two still on the plate. “And you didn’t eat.”
“I forgot. And now I have a headache to prove it.” I stood and grabbed the salad and French bread, slicing off a bit. I spread peanut butter on it and started eating. I was starving. “So tell me about the sea lion.”
He glanced at his watch. “Let me put these on the grill and you turn on the television. Channel Seven will have the story. I’ll fill you in while the meat cooks.”
I opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles of beer. “You want one?”
“I do.” He grabbed the chops and the tongs and headed out the door. “I’ll be right back in.”
We had a small television mounted on the kitchen wall now. Greg’s idea. When I was home alone, most of the televisions stayed off unless I was watching a movie or a cooking show, or if I just wanted some noise in the house. Greg, on the other hand, always seemed to have some sports game or the results of a game on. He also watched the news a lot more than I did. I really didn’t want to hear about all the negative events around us. He wanted—okay, maybe needed—to be informed for his job. I liked to think that my piece of the earth was happy and easy-going. Kind of like a free Disneyland without the rides. Well, maybe like Disneyland if no one was murdered and I didn’t get involved in solving cases all the time. Okay, maybe not like Disneyland at all.
He came in a few minutes later and I turned down the volume. The murder mystery cop show was just finishing up and the main character was running through a dark alley, getting ready to save the day. He glanced at the screen, then grabbed his beer and sat next to me.
“Some kids called the station about five. Reporting a sea lion over in Patterson’s soybean field.” He took a swig out of his beer, leaning back in his chair. He’d taken his gun belt off and stored the gun in the safe we kept in the mudroom. It was such an automatic thing now, I didn’t even notice he did it anymore.
“Wait, isn’t that the field on the other side of the highway from the beach? How in the world did he get over the road?” I was trying to imagine the spot Greg was talking about. The beach at that place was the sunning place for the sea lions when they came in for the day. There was a gate keeping people off that section, allowing the large creatures not to be bothered by tourists and humans wanting a picture. Greg had to rescue people who’d ignored the signs and the fence at least a few times a month.
“Yeah. From what I could tell, he came up the service road and through the gate, which was wide open. Someone had cut the chain and dropped the lock. I’m going to have to get that replaced in the morning. Right now, we have it wired shut. Then the guy just inched his way about the length of two football fields over the road and into the field.”
“I can’t believe some car didn’t hit him.”
The local newscasters came on the screen and Greg turned up the volume. “Here’s the piece.”
I watched as the large sea lion moved back toward the ocean and through the field. Toby was on one side of the guy, Tim on the other. Greg was talking to the reporter, a few feet away. “We appreciate the call from this guy over here.” Greg pointed to the kids. “It’s great when young people step up to keep our wildlife safe.”
He grunted next to me, and I eyed him. “You think the kids are the ones who broke open the gate?”
“I think this kid had a lot of friends and they were the ones who started this chain of events. That kid was the only one who stayed around and called it in when the sea lion got out of the fence. He had the good sense to call for help, even if it meant he was in trouble.”
I watched as the camera panned over to the teenager who