Different Circles

Jake nodded to them. About then, Laura appeared in the foyer. All three of the deputies immediately shifted their eyes to her and held them there, quite clearly enjoying what they were seeing.

Jake glanced over his shoulder and then back to the cops. “My wife, Laura,” he introduced.

“Good evening, Mrs. Kingsley,” Stivick said.

“Good evening,” she replied, taking up position next to Jake.

“Do you mind if we come inside, Jake?” Stivick asked after he finally managed to take his eyes off Laura’s body.

“How about you tell me what this is about first?” Jake countered.

“Oh ... of course,” Stivick said, a hint of irritation appearing for an instant and then disappearing just as quickly. “Well ... you see ... our dispatch center received several calls throughout the day that there have been reports that you might have a young woman or boy staying in the house with you who may be a runaway from Venezuela.”

Jesus fucking Christ, Jake thought, shaking his head. “The tranny email,” Jake said. “They actually called you about that?”

“Yes,” Stivick said, “multiple people have called regarding that email. We had someone send a copy to our department email so we could take a look at it. I personally reviewed the document before we came out here.”

“You reviewed the document,” Jake said slowly, “and you think it to be a true story?”

“It does sound quite farfetched,” Stivick replied, “but we did get multiple calls about this and several of the callers reported that they have, in fact, seen you and Mrs. Kingsley in the company of a young Hispanic woman on several occasions during visits to town.”

“A young Hispanic woman?” asked Laura. “With us?”

“The only Hispanic woman we have been in the company of in Oceano is Celia Valdez when she comes to visit,” Jake said. “And, while she is very attractive, she is not young enough to be mistaken for a seventeen-year-old.”

“And she is quite recognizable as well,” Laura added. “She does not even passingly resemble the person in that email photo.”

“I understand that human memory is an easily manipulated thing,” Stivick said. “People remember what they want to remember. We are not here accusing you of what is suggested in that email. We are simply here to close out a call that was generated.”

“Fair enough,” Jake said with a sigh. He did not doubt Stivick’s sincerity. The man seemed quite annoyed to be on this errand. “How can we assist you in closing out this call?”

“Well, if you consent to let us inside your home so we can take a look around and verify that there is no sign of a Venezuelan transexual living here, that will allow us to close the call and not bother you on this matter any further.”

“I see,” Jake said slowly. “And if I said we will not consent to such a thing? What then?”

“Then we will leave and close the call out as unable to determine.”

“Would you then attempt to get a search warrant?” Jake asked.

Stivick barked out a little laugh and shook his head. “Are you kidding? No judge on the planet would issue a warrant based on a chain email and a few vague eyewitness accounts, none of which even remotely match each other except for the young Hispanic person descriptor. You are perfectly within your rights to tell us to go pound sand and we will happily go pound it.”

“So, what is the advantage for me and Laura in allowing you to come in and look around then?” Jake asked.

“If we are able to satisfy ourselves that there is no sign you are keeping an underage Venezuelan transexual in captivity, I will write an incident report on the matter that spells that out and make sure our PIO—that’s our public information officer—provides a copy of it to the local newspaper.”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. He looked at Laura and she nodded. He turned back to the sergeant. “All right then,” he said. “Let’s do this thing. Come on inside, officers. Welcome to Casa Kingsley.”

“Thank you,” Stivick said, stepping through the doorway. “Although I should warn you that if we should see anything illegal under California law in plain view...”

“Already taken care of,” Jake assured him.

He gave the deputies a complete tour of the house, starting with the formal living room that they rarely used. From there, they went to the entertainment room with its pool table, pinball machine, Space Invader console, large screen television, six-thousand-dollar sound system, racks full of expensive wine, and fully stocked wet bar. Stivick took a moment to admire Jake’s Les Paul that had been autographed by Les Paul himself. Maxwell and Clark were both impressed by the bar and the wine collection. From there, they went down the first hallway. Jake opened the door to the primary guest room, which was a suite in and of itself. He then showed them the guest bathroom, the coat closet, and then the kitchen.

“It looks like you were getting ready to have dinner,” Stivick said, seeing the raw burgers sitting on the cutting board. “Sorry about bothering you right now.”

“It’s okay,” Jake said.