Watchin' The Detective: A Mystery Dinner Romance (11 page)

“Easy, easy Isabella. We’re working on it but
there’s no arrest imminent. I wish I could tell you more but that’s
enough. I shouldn’t have told you that much.”

She reaches across the table, takes his hand,
and smiling says, “Thank you for sharing that with me. It means
more than you know.”

He smiles back and then exhibiting a rare
moment of unsureness, he changes the subject asking her if she’d
like some dessert.

“Why, ah, sure, that would be nice,” she
says, puzzled at his shyness. His face is a bit red and she sees
that he’s uncomfortable with the closeness. Their waiter returns
and takes their orders of coffee and one piece of shared
cheesecake.

“So tell me, did you grow up around here?” he
asks.

“Yes, I was born in Tustin and went to high
school there. I’ve lived in Orange County all my life. I’m a
native. That’s pretty rare. How about you?”

“I was born in LA County, lived in Hermosa
Beach as a child. My parents moved us down to Corona Del Mar when I
was little and I spent my childhood and teen years there.”

“Did you go to college here?”

“I joined the service after high school and
spent four years in the Marines. When I got out, I joined the
Laguna Beach PD where I worked my way up to detective. Not very
exotic, but I’ve got no complaints.”

“Have you ever been married?” she asks.

“Me? No way,” he answers with a chuckle.
“Honestly, I don’t know who’d have me. I’ve got some pretty weird
hours and the job’s not so family friendly.”

“Maybe if you found the right girl who that
knew going in? Maybe that could work out.”

“I don’t know if they exist.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she says, as the
waiter returns at the absolute wrong time to bring the check.
Sterling takes the check and despite Isabella’s protestations, pays
for their dinner.

“This is my treat, Isabella.”

“But I asked you out.”

“It’s not very often I get a chance to have
dinner with a beautiful woman. I’ve got to make sure she’d want to
have a reason to go out again.”

Now, Isabella is blushing and is stuck for
words.

Sterling stands and puts his napkin on the
table.

“This has been wonderful. I just wish I could
stay longer. I’m afraid I’ve got to go,” he says looking at his
watch.

“You said you have to meet someone
tonight?”

“Yes, a young woman.”

“Oh,” Isabella says.

“We found a body this morning on the beach. A
young woman. I’ve got to meet with the coroner at the morgue and
take a look. Not exactly what I’d like to be doing tonight.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” she
answers with a mix of immense relief that he’s seeing a dead young
woman but also feeling horrible about what happened to the poor
thing.

“Don’t worry. It comes with the job.” Holding
out his hand to shake, he says, “Thank you again. I really had a
great time. You have to promise me we’ll go out again when I don’t
have to end it this way.”

“I do. I mean, yes I will. Please be careful,
Detective,” she says, as if he is going off to do battle with some
enemy.

“Please call me Don.”

“Please be careful, Don,” she says and feels
a shiver come over her. He turns and leaves, while she sits back
down to take it all in.

The following morning, Isabella walks to work
feeling like she’s floating on a cloud. She repeats the words he
said, “I’ve been thinking about you, too,” over and over again.
This is good, really good. Don’t blow it, Isabella!
she
tells herself.

She is unusually helpful to the jurors as she
points out where they need to go and asks the newspaper hawker,
“Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

She sees the coffee cart.
Well, it’s time
to face Joshua again. I can’t keep dodging him.
She stands in
line, waiting to order her latte.

As Joshua is brewing it, he says, “I really
had a good time at the golf course the other day.”

“Yeah. You and Nicole looked like you were
having a lot of fun together.”

“Isabella,” he says with trepidation, “I
don’t know how to say this.”

“Go ahead. I won’t bite.”

“It’s just that I was wondering if it would
be okay if I asked Nicole out sometime.”

“Just the two of you?” She teases him,
“Without me?”
I’ll make him feel a little guilty. After all, we
did have that pretty hot night at his apartment before his roommate
interrupted us.

“I like you a lot, Isabella. I don’t want to
hurt you.”

“I like you a lot, too. But go ahead, ask her
out. I’m sure she’d say, ‘Yes’. Besides, you two make such a cute
couple.”

“Would you two hurry it along,” the customer
in back of Isabella complains. “I’m supposed to be in court at
9:00.”

“Sorry,” Joshua says to the man.

He tells Isabella, “I’ll talk to you
later.”

“Okay. I’ll tell Nicole what you said.”

*******

“Well, it looks like it might be time to
start putting together your hope chest, Nicole,” she says, sitting
next to her friend at the reference desk.

“Huh?”

“Joshua likes you. He
really
likes you,” she mimics Sally Field’s
best-actress-acceptance-speech at The Oscars.

“Why do you say that?”

“He just asked my permission if he could ask
you out.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Would you be mad at me if I did?”

“No. You two have my blessing. I think he’s
the perfect guy for you.”

“Phew! That’s a relief.”

Isabella tells her friend about her dinner
the night before with the detective.

Nicole says, “It sounds like he wants you as
much as you want him.”

Isabella tells her about her scare yesterday
when she was getting a mammogram.

Her friend scolds her, “Why didn’t you tell
me you had a lump on your breast?”

“I just wished it would go away.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Me, too. I got big plans with these girls,”
Isabella says, looking down her low-necked blouse and cupping her
breasts.

They both start laughing.

Their conversation is interrupted by a patron
who says that the copier has a paper jam. Isabella looks sheepishly
over at Nicole.
I hope he didn’t overhear me saying
that.

*******

That night, Isabella can’t stop thinking
about her detective. She wants to call him, but can’t come up with
a good excuse.
It would be so nice if I could just bump into him
somewhere. But where? Outside the police station would appear like
I am stalking him. I don’t want to scare him away.
Then, she
gets an inspiration.
He told me that he likes Sarducci’s. Maybe
I might see him there? It’s a long shot, but I like going to San
Juan Capistrano anyway.

She gets a further inspiration.
Why don’t
I take the train down there? It will
feel like I’m on
vacation
. That settles it and off she goes to the train
depot.

C
hapter Twenty-One

Isabella has loved coming to the new train
depot in Santa Ana ever since it first opened. It is a
beautifully-designed building that reminds her of some of the
Spanish-style buildings in Santa Barbara. It’s adorned with
colorful mosaic tiles and has coffered ceilings. She sits in the
courtyard and waits for her train—The Pacific Surfliner. While
looking around, she sees a wide array of passengers: from a tired
looking man with one hand on a cane and another holding a suitcase;
to a little girl with Hello Kitty overnight bags who’s probably
going to the San Diego Zoo or Sea World; to tipsy and giggling
ladies wearing outrageous hats who are probably on their way to the
horse races at Del Mar; and a Franciscan brother wearing a white
robe, sandals, and wooden rosary beads that are hanging down from
his waist. The station announcer’s voice is muffled and no one can
tell if he’s speaking Spanish or English. When everyone sees the
southbound train approach, there’s a mad dash to get on board and
be among the lucky who get window seats with views of the ocean.
Isabella is one of the lucky ones, and sits next to a window. The
train resumes its journey and she watches the graffiti-covered
warehouses go by, then the blimp hangars, and then the few
remaining strawberry fields. The distance to San Juan Capistrano is
about twenty-three miles and the train ride takes about thirty
minutes to get there. When the train slows down to enter the depot
in San Juan Capistrano, Isabella sees a little neighborhood next to
it that has restaurants that look like trendy wooden shacks. She
also sees gardens with palm and banana trees, cactus and
bougainvillea bushes.

The train door opens and she’s terrified to
see a two-foot drop without any stairs. She’s wearing spiked heels
and would’ve fallen off the train and twisted her ankle if it
wasn’t for a kind elderly man with a cane who offered his other
hand to help her get off. After thanking him profusely, she walks
over to the restaurant and parks herself at a table in the
courtyard next to the fountain.

The waiter sees her and comes over to ask her
if she’d like anything to drink. She orders a Chardonnay and the
tilapia with mango sauce entrée. She watches all the busy travelers
waiting for the next train. She loves all the hustle and bustle,
and the sound of the bells that signal the approach of a new train
coming into the station. A Metrolink train approaches and its
brakes screech as it comes to a stop in front of the restaurant. In
about five minutes, she watches the arrival of the northbound
Amtrak. She looks around at the other diners and doesn’t see her
detective in the crowd. She decides to wander around the restaurant
a bit and grabs her wine glass and purse. She walks along a narrow
hallway that has a single row of tables lining the windows, looking
out at the trains. To the right is a small room with a brick arch
that says, “Waiting Room”. It has a gas fireplace that’s been
turned on. There is only one couple inside and they are having a
serious discussion. The woman is crying and the man is holding her
hand. His cufflinks sparkle in the firelight. Isabella does a
double-take and stops in her tracks.

Oh my God
! Isabella thinks when she
recognizes the couple who are having the tete a tete.
It’s Karen
Black and Hamid from the mystery dinner theater
. She stops,
backs up, and peeks her head around the archway, trying to overhear
what they are talking about. There’s a loud football game playing
on the TV in the nearby bar, but Isabella manages to hear Karen
say, “I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this!” Karen
then stands up out of her chair and throws down her napkin on the
table. Isabella scrambles away before she can be recognized by
either of them. Hamid follows Karen out the door towards the
parking lot. Isabella is right on their trail and going out the
door when she hears her waiter say, “Madame, you haven’t paid your
bill yet.”

She is very embarrassed and says, “Oh. I was
just going to the restroom.”

“It’s inside; not outside,” he reminds
her.

“Of course it is,” she says. “How stupid of
me. Where’s my head these days?!” She settles her bill and walks
out to the parking lot. There’s no sign of either of them. She
comes back inside to finish her tilapia, but sees that the busboy
has already cleared her table. She tells the waiter that she wants
it back and he’s able to retrieve it. After that, she’s too
embarrassed to stay much longer and abandons her hope to casually
bump into the detective tonight.

*******

On the train ride back home, Isabella closes
her eyes and concocts her latest fantasy starring herself and the
detective. This one finds the two of them in Paris, where he has
just booked two tickets for a trip on The Orient Express. They will
be traveling overnight to Venice. She tells him, “Don, you
shouldn’t have. We can’t afford the $5000 tickets.”

He answers, “We only get married once. This
is the perfect excuse to splurge.”

They hurry to find their special train. They
see the trademark blue coaches with yellow piping, adorned with the
Orient Express seal. There are stewards in blue uniforms with white
gloves helping passengers to their Pullman cabins. Isabella and Don
have their own dedicated steward named Henri, who promises to
attend to their every need. He leads them to their cabin, and when
seeing their room, Isabella is lost for breath. She says, “This is
the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. Look at these gorgeous
polished wood panels,” she says, running her hands along them. “And
the carpeting and sofa colors!! Their purple and blue designs are
so vibrant and amazing!”

Henri tells them that he’ll leave them alone
so that they can get settled in their room. “Perhaps you’d like to
dress for dinner? It is in thirty minutes. I’ll come and get
you.”

After he leaves, Isabella says, “I thought we
were already ‘dressed for dinner’.”

She and Don laugh. She says, “Isn’t this
marvelous? I feel like I’m back in the 1920’s—the golden age of
travel. She starts opening the cupboards. “Look at this precious
little sink here in the corner.”

Don says, “I feel like Hercule Poirot.”

“Just don’t wax your mustache like he
does.”

“How would I look with a mustache?” he
asks.

“You’d look great. Grow one out. You could
take me on mustache rides.”

He pulls her over to him and says, “Come
here, you saucy wench. Who taught you to use such salty
language?”

“A detective I know, back in Laguna
Beach.”

“Right answer,” he says, pulling her down on
the sofa. “Do you think we have time for a quickie before Henri
comes to get us?”