Chapter 3: Welcome to California—Good Luck Getting Out Alive

Hardly a cloud marred the sky in Iowa.  In Denver, the weather was like springtime in the Rockies, even though it wasn’t spring.  That made for perfect flying conditions.  Less than five hours later, a Boeing 737 touched down in LA, ten minutes ahead of schedule.  The aircraft quickly decelerated before slowly taxiing over to a gate.

“Whew!  Glad that’s over with,” said Mr. Hallett, mopping his brow.  “They don’t put nearly enough leg room in these things.”

He felt a nudge from behind. Turning, he saw Renee peeking through a seat.

“You might want to tell us to gather our stuff,” she whispered.

“What—uh, oh yes.  Make sure you have everything, kids.  We’ll be getting off in a moment.”

“Got it!” called Renee.

“Remind me to get my suitcase out of the overhead compartment,” said Carol.

“Mine too,” said Edward.”

I’m just glad I don’t have to pay the baggage fare, Mr. Hallett thought to himself, as he stood and waited for the passengers in front to get off the plane.

Los Angeles was a very busy airport, and it took a while for the visitors to find the baggage claim.  All the while, Mr. and Mrs. Hallett kept turning and looking around at the crowds of people running to and fro.  Was one of them a spy, waiting for their arrival?  It was impossible to tell.  Mr. Hallett knew better than to ask the Lawrences; they weren’t mentioning a thing about their mission.  Carol had her camera out and was photographing decorations on the wall, playing her tourist role perfectly.  Renee pointed out the window at a plane, and Edward dashed over to take a look.  Drew opened a travel brochure about Los Angeles and started rattling off some tourist spots to visit.

Mrs. Hallett took her husband’s arm.  “Just enjoy the vacation,” she said.

They reached the baggage claim before it started.  Carol’s suitcase was the first one off, but it was a long wait before anyone else’s luggage appeared.  “Now what?” said Mr. Hallett.  “Rent a car?”

“Oh, look, Daddy!” said Edward.  “There’s the man that’s waiting for us.”

“What—oh!”  Sure enough, a man stood over by some benches, holding a sign that read Hallett.  He was of medium height and rather stocky, with a somewhat round face.  In his suit and sunglasses, he could have passed for a security guard.

Nervously, Mr. and Mrs. Hallett led the way over to him.  “Um, I’m John Hallett.”

“ID,” said the guy with the sign.

“Come again?”

“ID,” said the man.  “I learned many years ago that you never pick up a stranger from the airport without checking their ID first.  Let’s see yours.”

“Oh, I see!” said Mr. Hallett.  He pulled out his driver’s license and held it up.  The man squinted at it.

“Iowa, huh?” he said.  “The last time I was there, I got stuck behind a tractor on the highway.  Come on.  The car’s out here.”

“Thank you very much,” said Mrs. Hallett.  “I’m Sally, and these are our children: Drew, Carol, Edward, and—and—”

“I’m Renee,” said the youngest, saving Mrs. Hallett, who’d forgotten.  “Do you have any kids, Mr.—”

“Goette.  No, I’m not married.  I drive cars around all day.  At night, I go to bed.  It’s the most fascinating job anyone could ask for.”

“Will it take long to get to our destination?” asked Mr. Hallett.  “I’m dying to see my old friend Steve.”

“Of course it’ll take long,” said Goette.  “What’s the matter?  Ain’t you ever been to LA before?”

“Well, I mean—it’s been a while—”

“The traffic’s no better than it was the last time you were here, whenever that was,” said Goette, leading the way outside.  “There’s the limo.”

The spiffy black Lincoln stood in the sunlight, chrome gleaming.  Mr. and Mrs. Hallett were quite impressed.  Goette stood next to it, looking quite bored as the Halletts loaded their luggage into the trunk.  He held the door as they got in the car.

“Have a pleasant ride,” he said, slamming the door.

“Thanks!” called Mr. Hallett after the retreating figure.  “Cheerful sort, isn’t he?” he whispered.  The happiest,” said Carol.  “When are we going sightseeing, Mom?”

Mrs. Hallett was rather taken aback by the question.  “I don’t know, dear,” she said, as the limo drove off.  “We’ll see what the Blaines have planned for us.”

“Good idea,” said Drew.  He unzipped his carryon and pulled out a camera.  “I’m going to get some shots of the scenery.”

“We’ll have to go for a walk along the beach sometime while we’re here,” said Renee.

“Multiple ones,” said Carol.  “Too bad you’ll be busy, Daddy.”

“Yes, yes it is,” said Mr. Hallett.  “Well, I’m sure Mr. Blaine—”

“Steve!” hissed Edward.

“—Mr. Blaine to you all,” Mr. Hallett said, recovering nicely.  “I’m sure we won’t be working every minute on that golf course.”

The ride proceeded normally, which meant that no one on the road seemed to be in a hurry.  They drove accordingly.  Thus, it was a couple hours later that they finally reached Malibu, home of Steve Blaine.  Mr. Hallett was marveling at all the large estates when, suddenly, the limo swerved through a gate.  It headed up a steep, winding driveway, before reaching the summit.  Mr. and Mrs. Hallett stared eagerly out the window to see what awaited them.

They were not disappointed.  A huge, sweeping mansion greeted their eyes.  It was two stories tall, not counting the attic, but they were two very long stories.  The house was mostly white, with somewhat curvy architecture that gave it a striking appearance.  Mr. and Mrs. Hallett gawked at it as the limo rolled up to the front.

Goette stopped it with a jerk.  “We are here,” he said, speaking for the first time since leaving the airport.  The Halletts couldn’t help feeling like movie stars as they stepped out.

Their host greeted them almost immediately.  “John!” called a man, running out of the house.  “John, old buddy!  Long time no see!”

It had been a very long time since these two had met: in fact, they never had.  Mr. Hallett tried not to show that as he shook hands with his host.  Steve Blaine was about six feet tall, with a blond crew cut and piercing blue eyes.  He looked quite young, though upon closer inspection one realized he probably just had a young physique.  A short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt made him look quite relaxed as he greeted his friend.

“Good to see you…again, Steve,” said Mr. Hallett, returning the handshake.  “I don’t know if you remember—”

“Sally, of course!” said Mr. Blaine, shaking hands.  “How are you?  Janice will be so glad to see you again.  And these must be the children.  My, how you’ve grown!”

“Nice to see you,” said Drew.  “Thanks for inviting us over!”

“Yes, thanks!” said Renee.  “I’m looking forward to this vacation!”

“But of course!” said Mr. Blaine.  “How could I do anything else?  With this big house, you all are welcome—anytime.  Speaking of that, I’d better show you to your rooms.  Godfrey!”

A much more formally dressed man, balding like Goette but taller, walked up.  “Yes, Mr. Blaine?”

“Help the Halletts with their luggage,” said Mr. Blaine.  “Come on in; I’ll show you the place!”

They walked through the front door and found themselves in a large, marble entryway lit by a magnificent blue skylight at the peak of the room.  Two staircases suavely snaked their way down the sides, flanking a large hallway.  Large double doors stood at either side of the first floor, made out of some sort of metal.

“Wow,” said Carol looking around.  “Did you build this yourself?”

“Yes, I did,” said Mr. Blaine.  “That is, I had it built.  Your rooms are right up these stairs.”

The Hallett’s followed Mr. Blaine up the left staircase.  “All the guest rooms are in the left wing,” said Mr. Blaine.  “Easier to keep track of that way.  Yours are all in a row, starting the third door down on your right.  There’s one for you and your wife, one for the boys, and one for the girls.”

“That’s fine,” said Mr. Hallett, wandering down to his room.  It was a large room, containing a queen bed, a couple of chairs, a walnut dresser, and a mirror.  A couple doors led to the closet and the restroom.  The ceiling fan blew cool air around the white walls decorated with pictures of old buses.  However, the room’s nicest feature had to be its view.  The doubled window on the back of the house looked down a large, green lawn to a cliff.  At the foot of the drop-off was the beach, and waves of a brilliant azure lapped on the shore.  Mrs. Hallett was almost breathless when she saw it.

“I figured you’d like it,” said Mr. Blaine, wandering in behind his visitors.  “My architect says the surroundings are just as important as the building itself.  He always considers them when designing a home.  Isn’t it a nice view?”

“It’s perfect,” said Mrs. Hallett.  “What a peaceful place.”

“That’s what Pearson said about it.”

“Pearson?” said Mr. Hallett.  Drew slipped in from the room next door and listened to their host’s reply.

“Yes, Pearson.  He was the last person to occupy this room, until about a week ago, when he vanished.  Very mysterious.  The police still can’t figure out what happened to him.”

Mr. Hallett shivered.  “Vanished?”

Mr. Blaine laughed.  “Yes, I don’t know what happened to him, but I wouldn’t worry about it.  He wasn’t in the room when he disappeared—he’d gone out somewhere.  I don’t know where.  Neither do the police.  Don’t you all worry about that, though.  Nothing should happen to you while you’re here.  I’ll leave you to get settled now.  Dinner’s at six.  It’s so good to see you again!”