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All rights reserved, 2011
Thanks to Doug, Elliot, Jimmy and Pepper...
Chapter 2: California Dreaming
"C'mon, we're leaving. You, too, Mrs. Shocley."
As they walked outside, Cindy saw Jeff and moved behind Greg. She preferred Greg to the policeman she had been having sex with each Friday. 'Oh God,' she thought, 'I don't want him to see me. Jeff may have the uniform but Greg knew how to use his gun.'
"You two get into my car over there and I'll be along in a second." While the women walked over to his '50 Ford Deluxe and got in, he talked to the homicide detectives, pointing in several different directions at once. After several minutes and one of the men writing down information on a notepad, Greg got into his car and they drove away into the night.
Greg pulled up in front of the bakery and stopped the car. He nudged Cindy awake. "Hey, sleepyhead, time to wake up." She looked peaceful, not like the nervous wreck she was just last night.
'Oh, my head hurts... my back hurts... what's going on?' "Uhhhhh.... Where are we?"
"Solvang, California. 'Danish Capital of America,' or something like that. Come on, let's get some breakfast. Hey, Mrs. Shocley, we're here."
The old woman stretched out on the back seat of the dark red Ford and then slowly sat up and looked out the window. "Wow, you drove all the way to Denmark? To be or not to be... Hope you didn't get a speeding ticket."
"Ha... ha... ha, you're a funny woman, Mrs. Shocley. I'm buying, let's get breakfast. It's the least I can do, dragging you out of your home last night like that.
"Cindy, wake up," he insisted, "it's time to eat. I've been to this place before."
He got out of the car, put his .45 snuggly into his pants' belt and then his fedora onto his head. He opened the doors, bowing as the two women left their seats and stood on the sidewalk. Shocley smoothed out her dress while Cindy gave a cursory glance in the bakery window's reflection.
Looking up, they saw an incongruous Danish windmill reaching for the hazy California sky. Warm, welcoming bakery smells wafted out the open door as they walked in. Greg could feel the hunger pangs grumbling through his stomach as he looked at the different Danish and cookies in the glass cases.
"Butter cookies... I'll take two dozen, please and a couple of those prune Danish and that cherry one... ladies, what do you want?"
"Whatever you think is best, Greg, we'll sit over there." She glanced at several small tables toward the back.
"Just double up the order and an extra cherry, please."
As he was paying for the food, he looked at the two women. 'What am I going to do, now? Cindy was one thing, but taking Mrs. Shocley along was a spur of the moment thing that I'm now starting to regret. What was I going to do with the old woman, anyway? And, now I'm responsible for both of them. Damn!'
"Here, plenty of cookies and pastries for my two ladies. How are you feeling, get plenty of sleep? Sorry about the rough ride up the One Oh One... it's not like it's Los Angeles, after all."
"Well, Greg, it's all right. Do you know when we're going to go back home?" 'Not too soon, I hope. I haven't had this much fun in a long time.'
"No, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Mrs. Shocley but there wasn't much I could do when the guy came over to your house. I didn't know if he was going to break in or not." He felt guilty. He wasn't worried, at the time, whether the man was going to break in or not, just that he needed to kill him first, but he was going to kill him, first. His face turned red and he tried to hide behind his coffee cup.
"We can take a walk around this place, if you'd like. Do you want to stay here, I mean, in town or keep going?"
"Honestly," said Cindy, "I don't know where we're going and I don't think anyone knows we're here, anyway, so can we stay here, at least for a while? It's like a fairytale story."
"Sure, Cindy, we can do that. We can do that."
He left a fifty cent tip and they walked out, carrying a bag of leftover cookies. Across the street was a gift shop and he shepherded them toward it. 'Women like to shop,' he figured 'and a place like a gift shop will be just the place to kill time until lunch.'
Before noon, he had easily spent another ten dollars indulging the two women and then they found a small smorgassborg on the next street. 'If this keeps up, I'm going to have to look for a Bank of America.'
"What a feast... wow, look at that roast pork," he said, pointing out the food on the cold table. Cheeses, hams, salads and pates... "I could stay here all day and eat this stuff.
"C'mon, ladies, eat up... we've still some more shops to visit before dinnertime." Truth was, he had no idea what to do with the two women now that they were here. Well, that wasn't exactly true. 'Cindy, oh, I've plenty of ideas what to do with her but with Mrs. Shocley there, not so much.'
An hour later, even he had to admit he couldn't eat any more food, and as good as it was, it was time to go. A couple of hours walking around finally brought them to a small motel and he went in to rent two rooms.
The next morning, after another high-calorie breakfast of cookies and pastries, Greg put the car north onto US 101 and headed toward Monterey. The two-hour trip took them to San Luis Obispo, where they stopped for lunch and found another two rooms for the night at the Villa Motel on Monterey Street. This time, though, Cindy didn't even bother with the pretense of staying with Mrs. Shocley and walked right into Greg's room after they checked in.
After lunch, they drove around looking for a department store to buy some clothes. He laughed to himself, realizing his good deed was costing him even more money than he expected. 'Any night with Cindy, as wonderful as it might promise to be, is going to be very expensive.'
While the two women were trying on some clothing from racks by the wall, he went and found a pay phone.
First, call the tenant in apartment 'A'. "Hello?"
"Hi, it's me, Greg Knotts. Are the police finished with the two apartments?"
"Yes, they've boarded up both of them and put a keep out sign on the doors. They're pretty mad; they've been looking for the two of you all day."
"Thanks. Can I call you every afternoon and find out what's going on?"
"Sure, Mr. Knotts. Say, about eight o'clock would be better. Joe will have finished his dinner by then."
"OK, Mrs. Hunton, eight o'clock it is. Thanks." 'Well,' he figured, 'that took care of the apartment house.'
He called the Hermosa Beach police. "Detective Kleis, please. It's Gregory Knotts."
"Kleis, Homicide." 'Now, what?' he wondered.
"Good afternoon, Detective. It's Greg Knotts."
"Where the hell have you been, Knotts. We've been looking all over for you and that crazy broad you took off with."
"Did you lock up my apartment up?" It made no sense to tell the police what he already knew. He still didn't know who to trust, other than Cindy and Mrs. Shocley; Shocley more than Cindy, when he thought about it. After all, he did kill four men because of her and who knew, she might bolt any second.
"Yeah, it's boarded up. Where are you?"
"Safe. Listen, have you figured out who those men were?"
"You want to play it that way, Knotts? I could have an arrest warrant out on you in ten seconds."
"Look, you know and I know that I'm innocent of pretty much anything you could throw at me and it was necessary to get the two of them out of town for their own safety.
"I promise I'll call every day, about this time and talk with you. You know more of what's going on than I do."
"All right, but I'm keeping you on a short leash, Knotts, don't push it with me.
"The four stiffs were enforcers for Guido Origli, local bookie around here. Seems he's angry at you, even more than I am. I'd watch my back, if I were you."
"If he can't find me, then he can't find me. Anything else?"
"Yeah, we can't find him, either. I'll let you know. You on the level, Knotts?"
"Yeah, I am. I don't like this any more than you do... what did you want me to do, sit around with a target on my back? I had enough of that with the Japs."
"Nah, you're right, just be careful." 'Looks like Knotts is going to be a pain in the ass. Damn it!'
"OK...
"Well, that was interesting," Greg said to himself. "Now, what?" The problem was, he had no clue what to do, now, except keep hiding until the dust settled. He thought about everything and the only thing he would have changed would have been to have the police there from the start... but, he doubted they would have had people sitting there for however long it would have taken to have things come to a head.
That night, Cindy searched for a sexual release she had missed her whole married life. Her husband was an ignorant lover and after he became an abusive, impotent drunk...
There was a knock on his door. He took his gun and slid the drapes back just enough to see Cindy standing there. Keeping the light off, he opened the door enough to pull her inside. "Cindy, what are you doing outside?"
"I was afraid you were asleep. Did I wake you?" 'Fantastic! He's awake!'
"No, I was just thinking.
"What is it, Cindy?" 'This could get dicey,' he thought. He wondered what the old lady thought.
"About what?" 'God, I hope he doesn't regret taking me along.'
"Just things, that's all. Just things..."
Her hand came up to his cheek. "Let me help you with that..." she said. 'Oh, yes, now for some lovin'.'
She pushed Greg down onto the bed, unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. Within seconds, she was bent over the bed, engulfing him in her now skilled lips.
Greg had been living the life of a monk and came quickly in her mouth.
"Well," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "that is that. Now... time for some serious lovin'." 'Oh, YES!'
Greg soon remembered what he had been missing the last few years. The nightmares he had coming back from the Pacific had made any relationship impossible the first few years and even though they were now few and far in-between, he still had felt self-conscious about it.