Chapter 2 - You can run, but you can't hide
Carmel, 18th August 1977
Della climbed out of her car, glad that she had finally found her destination. Perry's white Cadillac was parked near a narrow staircase that led up to a white cabin. Worn out and all sweaty from the long drive she stretched and looked around. The place really seemed to be right in the middle of nowhere. The sun had already set behind the hills and the midges whirred and danced in the fading light of the long summer day.
Torn between physical exhaustion and nervous anticipation, she inspected the small house. It wasn't the same cabin they used to rent when they spent their vacation days in Carmel. He had chosen another more secluded place to hide from the world. He even used a false identity to make sure no one could pester him. He had taken extensive measures to make sure he stayed on his own and she was about to disturb his self-selected peace. It wouldn't boot well with him and she mentally prepared herself for his gruff rejection.
Mustering her courage she climbed up the stony stairs to the porch. She knocked and checked the windows, but there was no light and no noise whatsoever. Wherever Perry was right now, it wasn't in here. Should she wait for him? The deck chairs looked inviting, but it was almost dark and while she wasn't afraid of darkness, she didn't like the thought of being all alone until he came back - if he came back tonight.
"You searching for someone?"
Startled, she jerked around. There was a man on the street. He was carrying a pocket light. She raised her hand to protect her eyes from the piercing flashlight in his hand.
"Yes, I'm searching for Mr. Miller. He's rented this place," she explained and added with an apologizing shrug, "I'm his wife."
"Ah, I see…" Finally, the man dropped the pocket light and climbed up the stairs. "Looks as if he isn't home. I think he went into town some time ago. He's quite a loner. Never thought he's married as grumpy as he always is."
Della shrugged and made a step back. Her back connected with the door. "Well, he can be. Do you know where he is?" Della asked as light-hearted as possible. "I wanted to surprise him, but I guess this wasn't one of my better ideas."
"Nope… he never talks to anyone."
"Yeah that's how he is…," she confirmed and faked a chuckle. "I think I'll go into town myself. Maybe I can find him." With quick steps she hastened down the stairs and to her car. The man was watching her too closely and in a way that gave her goosebumps. He was younger than he had appeared from afar. Perhaps about five years her junior. Still he looked tattered with his unshaved face and the dirty clothes. A cloud of booze and cold cigarette smoke greeted her when she passed him.
"Anything you say, Ma'am." He made a small salute and gave her a cheeky grin.
"Goodbye!" With shaking hands she started the car and left the place as quickly as the narrow road allowed it.
######
One and half hours and eight bars later she was ready to give up and call it a night. The bars and restaurants were crowded, the air was sticky, and called for a healthy thunderstorm, but from the look of the clear sky it was unlikely to rain any time soon.
She needed to find a place to stay for the night and mentally kicked herself for her lack of planning. She should have booked a room in advance, but her departure from Sacramento had been a spontaneous decision.
After her arrival she had spent the better part of the day in her search for Perry who was spending his so called vacation incognito. The cabin they used to rent up here had been demolished years ago and so she had to become creative to hunt him down. Finally she could locate him with the help of a photo she had taken with her. His landlord was the owner of a small grocery store close to the beach. He had recognized Perry in the picture and had given her the address after she had claimed to be his sister.
She decided to look for him in one last bar, before she tried to find a place to stay for the night. The idea of going back to the cabin in the middle of the night was not inviting – not that she actually considered staying in his house anyway.
Realizing how much her feet hurt, she entered a bar that was called "Blue Dolphin". It wasn't as crowded as the other places and she quickly understood why. The illumination was almost non-existing and the interior most uninviting. Unable to picture him in this environment she decided to leave when her eyes fell on a big man who was sitting at a table in a dark corner. He was alone and cigarette smoke was hanging over his head like a dark cloud. It was Perry, though he didn't quite look like the Perry Mason she knew.
She watched him for a few seconds, trying to estimate his condition. Surely no one in his right mind would bother to speak to him. He was practically radiating with brooding darkness. It was a good thing that she had never been afraid of him. The reservations she had towards him now had resulted from the way they had parted the last time they had been together. Broken and consumed with grief they had done and said things that could never be taken back. She told herself not to be a coward and confront him as planned. Running away now that she had finally found him would be foolish and she had grown too old to allow herself to be intimidated by past mistakes.
Slowly she approached his table and sank down opposite him. He frowned when he saw her then his face became blank before his expression darkened again.
"Counselor," she greeted him. "It wasn't easy to find you."
"That was the intention," he replied, his tongue heavy. The glass in front of him was empty and she smelled whiskey. Hopefully he wasn't too drunk for a decent conversation. "What brings you here, Mrs. Carlisle?" He asked and lit himself a new cigarette. How she hated it when he used her last name like an insult.
She shrugged, trying to sound as easy going as possible. "I could ask you the same question, but since you asked first... I had the strangest visit yesterday afternoon and thought you should know about it."
He raised his eyebrows in question and she answered, "Laura came to see me."
He negligently shrugged and bit back every comment about his wife. "She was worried about you and asked me to talk to you," Della continued her report and gave him and his empty glass a meaningful look. "For once I can understand her."
"That's very considerate of her. And of you. But as you can see, I'm fine. I'm on vacation." He wanted to make a toast at her, but put down the glass when he realized it was empty.
If Della knew anything then that he wasn't fine. He wasn't well and he certainly wasn't on vacation. She tried to reason with him. "Perry... I know the last couple of months have been hard on you. They've been hard on me, too."
He nodded. "I'm sure they were hard on you." He sounded so unfeeling that she wanted to take the empty glass and smash it against his head. Instead of lashing out at him, she leaned in, and placed her hand on his arm. He frowned and it pained her that her touch was affecting him in such a negative way, yet he didn't pull back and neither did she.
"Paul meant as much to me as he meant to you. Do you think I took his death lightly? Do you think I'm happy that his killer got away scot-free?"
He looked up and for the first time their eyes met. The mixture of sadness, pain, and anger she read in them made her heart heavy.
"No, I don't think you took his death lightly." He freed his arm from her touch and leaned back against the wall behind him. She had known this man for over twenty years, had loved him, had cried for him, and argued with him, but not once he had behaved like this.
"I'm not sure it is wise for you to be here," he said. "Richard wouldn't want you to be in place like this - near me." The question of what he wanted her to do formed on her lips, but she held it back and instead she said, "Richard isn't here."
"No, obviously not. Does he know you are here, talking to me?"
She shook her head. "He and Ruben are in Los Angeles for a few days."
"I see…." His voice trailed off and he toyed with the glass in his hand. "And why aren't you with them?"
"Because I haven't the slightest wish to meet my mother-in-law more than necessary."
He groaned, finally halfway amused. "You don't like her?"
"She doesn't like me," Della clarified and changed the subject, because Martha Carlisle was the last person she wanted to talk about. "Won't you tell me what brought this on?" Since she had taken her seat at his table, she had studied his appearance. To say he looked dreadful was an understatement. His face could use a clean shave and for someone on vacation he looked simply worn out and gray.
He ignored her question and lapsed into silence. His behavior was so absurd that she didn't even feel offended by his ignorance of her question. She was simply bewildered and decided to change her way of questioning. "Well, I guess that means, the times have really changed. Perry Mason is hiding in a bar, feeling sorry for himself. I know a lot of people who would give their right arm to see this, but I'm not one of them." She squeezed her clutch under her arm and rose.
"Why did you have to come here?" He asked, his eyes now fixed on her. "You of all people."
"Me of all people?" She repeated perplexed and sat down again.
"Yes. You. Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, you walk into mine... Why?"
"I told you, Laura sent me."
He gave her a long, pensive look. Then he reached inside the pockets of his pants and dropped a twenty dollar note on the table. "If this is about Laura, I suggest we leave this place."
#####
"How did you find me?" Perry asked when he and Della sat in her car and drove back their lonely way to Perry's cabin.
"That was fairly easy," Della replied. "Laura told me she knew you wanted to go up here. When no one seemed to remember or recognize your name, I showed them a picture of you. You're a man who's hard to overlook. Though the attempt of a beard is a nice try. I'm sure Laura will love it."
He scoffed upon her sarcasm. "You're quite a detective."
"I learned from the master."
"I'm serious… Why are you really here? Don't tell me it's just because Laura asked you to."
"What makes you think that?"
"I know you."
There was some truth in that, but she wasn't in the mood to confirm his inkling. The last time they had met they had exchanged some very painful truths that had scarred both of them beyond intention. The tragedy of Paul's death had made them vulnerable to each other and later it had separated them. After their fateful argument in Perry's old apartment in Los Angeles she had gone home to Sacramento where she had a family to take care of and even if it was hard she had lived on with her life, but Perry's life with Laura didn't offer him a chance to return to normalcy. Paul had been his best friend and associate. Without him nothing about Perry's life was normal anymore. But was the gap Paul's death had left the reason behind Perry's disappearance?
They had reached the cabin and Della stopped the car. The place was now surrounded by an all-embracing darkness.
"Here we are," she said, but neither of them moved.
"You didn't answer my question," he reminded her. "Why are you here?"
"Curiosity," she answered. "The Perry Mason I know wouldn't hide in the woods. And then there was of course the intrigue of being asked by your wife to make you come back to her."
He shifted in his seat, obviously surprised. "She did what?"
"I told you, it was strange… she showed up on my doorstep and more or less begged me to find you. She obviously thinks I can perform magic tricks. I figured your marriage must be in a bad state, when she confided in me. It was awkward." She pretended to shudder.
He groaned and rubbed his face. Perhaps he was now fully feeling the effects of the whiskey. She sensed he was in for a major hangover and that it was pretty useless to have a profound discussion about the state of his life in his present condition.
"Why don't we talk tomorrow?" She suggested. "How about breakfast?"
"Do you have a place to stay?"
"Not yet," she admitted and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"Stay with me."
She gave him a look. "I don't…."
"I'll stay on the couch," he said, before she could phrase an objection. "I won't pester you."
"I never thought you would."
"So… unless you can't keep your hands off of me, we should be safe."
Against her wish she had to laugh. It was still a bad idea. They were both married to other people and there was no excuse for what she was about to agree to.
"I'll lock the door," she decided and grabbed her purse from the backseat.
###tbc###
I thank you all so very much for your reviews for the first chapter! I've been overwhelmed by your responses and hope this chapter makes your hungry for more! :-) Stay safe and let know what you think!
