Chapter 24. Crossing the Cemetery.
We walked across their living room, dining room, across their enormous kitchen (with a large stone hearth) through a door and down a hallway. At the end of the hallway was another door that opened into a four car heated garage. He tossed me the keys and said he couldn't drive. Carlo reached up and snatched the keys out of the air knowing they'd hit me in the face, Dave looked like he didn't understand why that happened. If Carlo hadn't caught them they probably would have smacked me in the eyes.
Dave and Carlo sat in back, I got in front and started his mother's Land Rover. He told me to push the button on the visor, and the garage door behind us lifted and the entire garage got brighter.
I backed us out of the garage as Dave gave me directions. I saw a historical marker at the end of the driveway. Dave explained the house used to be the winery a hundred years ago, it was a state historical site now. He kind of gestured all around us and said this entire area was vineyards before prohibition. He said that's why there were no old growth trees in this area.
We drove down an immaculate pine tree lined street with no other houses nearby. As we got further away the houses we saw all looked like McMansions, like they were all designed with the same computer software. Nine thousand square foot homes with no basement that anyone could break into with a box cutter.
A few miles further down the road the trees thinned out and we approached what looked like an old cemetery with an iron fence and stone pillars on either side of the entrance. We drove in the cemetery past rows of very old and weathered headstones. Dave commented that he nearly ended up here too, he said they told him he lost so much blood his brain was oxygen starved which killed some of the memories he had of Central America and afterwards, so he lost about half his memories of Panama but he well remembered the sailboat and the trip across Gatun Lake and up the west coast of Central America.
"Park by that trash can." Dave advised as he reached over the seat and pointed at a trash can that was full of dead flowers. His speech still sounded a little slurred.
I stopped the car and shut it off but left the keys in the ignition and ran the driver's window all the way down. We all got out, Carlo dashed around the car and helped Dave climb out and held onto his arm as he limped towards what looked like a grave that was days old. There was no headstone, just a rectangular pile of fresh black dirt that was partly covered with dying tulips and roses. The grass around it looked trampled from recent visitors (probably friends from high school too).
We slowly walked up beside the pile and looked down. "Here she is, the love of..." was all he said.
My chin started to quiver and my eyes flooded with tears as I recalled a mental image of her embarrassed smile when we played shirtless blackjack at the dinette, she was so full of life and joy, what a dreadful loss this was. I raised my hands over my face as tears dripped down my cheeks. I turned and walked away as I fought with my emotions. I didn't want to cry in front of Dave. Inside I felt a growing sense of anger too, I wanted to shout something profane. Anger swelled in my brain as I walked away from Dave and Carlo so I could cry by myself. I walked for a minute or two then stopped by a large tree, stepped behind it and wept.
While I was gone Dave slowly lowered to his knees and crossed himself, and began to quietly sob, his hands over his face. I tried everything I could think of to hard reset my brain and make that tremendous anger go away, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Carlo was the last one standing, he stood speechless behind Dave. After several minutes of hiding from them I wiped my eyes several times and slowly walked back staring at the grass the entire way. In the distance I heard the soft cries from Dave on his knees beside the pile of dirt. Carlo never spoke.
We had several horribly sad minutes of tears and sniffling. After several minutes I re-gained control and stepped beside Carlo, reached down and pushed my hands into Dave's armpits and lifted him to his feet, then he turned around and we held each other, which triggered his tears again, then the sadness overpowered my brain and we both wept and held each other tightly.
"Who won that first hand of shirtless Blackjack?" I asked him standing close enough to smell coffee on his breath.
Dave just shook his head no, then he smiled and said Carly won and that was when she started to forget she took her shirt off.
Carlo rubbed Dave's back as he spoke. I leaned in and laid a tiny kiss on Dave's cheek and he smiled. Then Carlo whispered, "This looks really gay." And we all laughed as we stepped apart and wiped tears from our faces, glancing at each other in a small circle of good friends.
Dave quickly hobbled back to the car and got paper towels from the trunk, this car had been to the cemetery before, recently. We came prepared.
He limped back to us and handed them out, we all dried our faces. Dave said he remembered the sailboat cabin was very hot and she was very uncomfortable, that's why we both convinced her to play cards with her shirt off, like us. Then I tried to change the subject by telling Dave, "Before I forget, you are invited to visit us any time you want, and I can even let you sleep on the sailboat if you want, or a hotel room, whatever you want."
My comments seemed to upset Carlo because he instantly came alive, he set one hand on my chest and firmly pressed me back and stepped between me and Dave and said, "Don't listen to him, our sofa is wonderful, seven feet long with memory foam cushions, it's fantastic to sleep on and you're invited." Then Carlo stopped and held up his hand, one finger in the air, then he continued. "No, we're not inviting you over, we're asking you to come to LA and spend some time with us, stay as long as you like." As he spoke those words he stepped closer to Dave and set his hands on his shoulders and repeated, "Anytime, as long as you want. Please come down, we want you to hang out with us and share all your stories about Carly." Dave got emotional again so he turned away to wipe his eyes with his damp paper towel and blew his nose. Carlo looked at me and I winked at him, he smiled then tried to look serious again and walked up beside Dave and put his hand on Dave's shoulder.
Dave eventually walked back to the car and leaned against it as if he was ready to leave. Then Carlo (standing beside the dirt pile) told him he would take him around Los Angeles and they could ride the water rides at Disneyland. But Dave was still wrestling with his emotions. We had a few moments of silence before I came up with something else to say.
We all moved near Dave and his mother's car but faced the grave which was about fifty feet away, the only black dirt pile I saw in the entire cemetery.
I reached over and took Dave's hand in mine and told him, "We're very sorry, she was a truly wonderful person." Dave stepped beside me and put his arm around my back and held on like a kid holding his mother for comfort.
I remembered when Carly spilled the truth and told me Dave was giving me the look like I triggered a father-figure response in him, even though I wasn't old enough to be his father, I was twelve (and in high school) when Dave was born.
Eventually he let go and stepped back and apologized, we all had runny noses and wet faces again. This time Carlo grabbed more paper towels and said `Come on ladies, we better leave before we run out of tissues," and once again we all laughed.
"Hang on a sec," I announced and stepped up to Dave, I held out my hand for him and said I needed to tell him something. We slowly walked towards the grave while Carlo stayed by the car blowing his nose. We walked past the dirt pile and kept going, I held his hand like we were lovers going for a walk and he seemed totally comfortable doing it. We walked about forty feet further away, I didn't want anyone to hear what I was going to tell him.
I dropped his hand and turned to face Dave, we were only inches apart. I put my hands on the sides of his face so he had to look me in the eyes. In a very soft voice through clenched teeth I growled to him, "If you want the mother fuckers that murdered her to die just say the word, I know people." Dave looked shocked as he stared in my eyes, his entire body trembled. I kept my stone cold angry face going as I stared back in his eyes with the most serious look I could muster. "Understand?" I asked and he just nodded yes but looked truly scared. I lowered my hands and we both glanced at Carlo by the car.
We walked back (holding hands) to the car to lean against it and talked for a while. At one point he started to tell us about Carly in grade school but Carlo touched his finger on Dave's lips and said he should save the stories for when he came to California. Dave laughed and agreed he would come see us but his words sounded empty.
"This would be the perfect time. Now we have a lot of stuff to talk about." Carlo told him and slid his hand down his arm and held his hand briefly. I handed my cell to Carlo to take photos of us and some with the mound of dirt behind us, we both looked like we'd been crying, faces with expressions of sad-gladness. Carlo balanced the cell on the car's roof and got one shot of the three of us with the mound of black dirt blurry in the background.
We got back in the car, lowered the windows and took one last look at the mound of dirt and drove slowly back to his home. Carlo and Dave talked in the back seat about off-road vehicles. Dave said he explored his parent's vineyard on one of their side by side vehicles, but he can't go fast because of the surgery since he had a greatly increased risk of seizures. He said he rode ATVs around the property most of his life, even while the vineyard was being planted. To give us more time I drove about 10mph all the way back. For a while I slowed to 7mph then told Dave this was our average speed sailing around Central America.
I was surprised while Dave explained how his recovery was going that Carlo asked if his dick worked okay, and Dave laughed and said his plumbing wasn't injured but it took a lot longer now. Dave said when he was in the back of some farmer's truck, the guys that drove him to the hospital their dog licked the blood off his entire head, but he was unconscious. One of the farmers pressed down on his skull whenever they saw blood trickle out, it probably saved his life.
They exchanged cell numbers so now we had a three way relationship. Back at the estate he invited us to stay for dinner but I told him we had a flight to catch. Dave showed us his room in the basement, it was large, like twenty feet on each side with its own bathroom. The three of us fit inside a tiny elevator and rode it down to a long carpeted basement hallway. Dave explained the house was so large because it was the winery before Prohibition but they had to build a new place because this one was obsolete for industrial plumbing and electricity, but was fine for a residence.
And yes, he did have a Playstation and an Xbox on a 52 inch 3D-TV. While they were looking at his game inventory I called to confirm our ride to the airport on a luxury Uber car. On a shelf up high on one wall I noticed he'd already completed the plastic sailboat model and sitting beside it was a partially constructed balsawood model, which was much more difficult to do correctly and required steady hands and lots of patience and attention to detail.
I overheard Dave explain to Carlo that his bedroom used to be upstairs but when he got into gaming and got the big TV that the windows caused too many reflections so they built this room in the basement.
As I got off the phone they were sitting on the floor while the battle game loaded, Carlo asked David again about his dick. "You've tested it?" and Dave smiled and nodded yes, then said several times.' Dave was reclined on the floor leaned back against a large pillow, which (unknowingly) raised the bottom of his shirt and exposed his stomach to all of us. Carlo told him he had a very nice belly button then got to his feet, Dave blushed and pushed his shirt down. I thought to myself, Wow that was close.' Dave briefly demonstrated his combat simulator, set near Normandy, France on D-Day, they both wore 3D glasses. I was certain Carlo was secretly gaydar scanning Dave's body.
When the driver texted me that he was minutes away I told Carlo and Dave paused the combat game, we both kissed Dave on the mouth and went back upstairs and out to the driveway as the Cadillac drove up. Twenty eight minutes later we were in line for TSA pre-check.
On the airplane Carlo spoke, "That's a really sad story. I wish we could do more for him."
"His family is very wealthy, he can have anything he wants, but he's got that crazy anti-materialistic Gen-Z attitude, he just wants to be happy. But I think it's going to be a long time until he finds happiness again. Those two were so well paired, that's a once in a lifetime relationship."
"I bet his heart's broken, like Romeo and Juliette." Carlo commented.
"Yes, I'm sure. He needs something to do after he finishes therapy."
"Is there something else we can do for him?"
"Personally, I think this would be a great time for him to start college, he'll meet other people his age and he'll be too busy to sit around and feel depressed and lonely."
"Yeah, I agree. Maybe that's what I should do too."
"I think this would be a great time for you to go to school, you guys could go together. You just need to figure out what you want to do in life. What did God put you on earth to do?"
"I have no idea, I never felt a calling for anything except selling tires."
"Well, keep your eyes and ears open, sooner or later you'll find it."
During the flight he asked me what I whispered to Dave at the cemetery and I told him he didn't want to know but it wasn't hard to figure out if he thought like a detective.
I asked Carlo if he watched our little private chat and he said yes, that it looked like Dave was scared after I angrily threatened him. I told him I never threatened.... Dave. Carlo sat there deep in thought as if he was trying to figure out the puzzle. He told me when I grabbed his head at first it looked like I was going to deep tongue kiss him.
Three hours later we were back in our apartment on Venice Boulevard. Carlo was very impressed by Dave, but he still hadn't seen his amazing dick. I thought they came very close to that when Dave inadvertently flashed his tummy at Carlo. If we'd been there a bit longer Carlo might have goosed him.
That evening we went to Target, I bought Carlo an Asus laptop that had MS Office pre-installed but not the rental version. He was so used to writing emails and texts on his phone he didn't think he needed a computer, I told him he'd need one for school and it would be better for him if he used it more than the slave tracker.
That evening we walked down to the Italian deli and got carry out because all their tables were full, even the ones outside. We got family style spaghetti with meatballs and sides of broccoli and garlic bread. Carlo said they made their own bread, which was one of his tasks on the days he volunteered there. He said they wanted him to become a regular employee and an evening manager. I told him it was very nice to come home to his smiling face, maybe he could do lunch instead?
At home at the dining table I told him I was proud of how he acted and treated Dave like family. Carlo blushed like always when I compliment him. I think compliments were uncomfortable for him. While chewing a mouthful of spaghetti I told him I loved him, he laughed and pointed at his upper lip, I wiped the sauce off my lip and we both chuckled.
That night in bed he was on his back and I was half on top of him with my mouth moving side to side between his tits and his boner smashed under my stomach. He came for me a short time later.
After he came he told me he figured out the secret. I asked what he thought. "You said you didn't threaten Dave, you threatened the guys that killed his wife, you just asked for his permission." I chuckled because his guess was right but I couldn't confirm it.
On Monday morning at work I got a call from my PI friend in Saint Pete, he said it was breaking news in Tampa. Today was the day that Tyrone Rivera was supposed to surrender at the state penitentiary to begin his prison sentence. He said Tyrone vanished overnight.
He had been out with ankle monitoring and tracking, he was required to video chat with the parole office every 12 hours to maintain his stay at home. That morning he didn't check in at 6am so a police car was sent. His bedroom was a bloody mess, all that remained was a severed human foot with the ankle monitor still strapped to the ankle. It looked like someone used an axe to chop off his foot and left a trail of bloody smears out the door to the street.
I told him he probably ended up in the ocean as fish food, killed for ratting out politicians in Miami for their involvement in the prison laundry kidnapping cases.
The news report said it appeared there was a struggle when the foot was hacked off inches above the ankle monitor, like the victim was alive and awake when they chopped off his lower leg. A bloody axe was found on the bedroom floor along with shoe prints of several different people (the ones that held him down while one swung the axe). I told him I anticipated he'd pay dearly for running his mouth, it was a fitting end for such an evil man. They said his wife and kids fled America before the trial started, probably to Argentina. Blood and tissue tests were sent to the state to confirm the owner of the foot, but the monitor matched the one assigned to him. They wanted to make sure it wasn't someone else's foot.
That evening I got home at 5:35pm and was surprised to see my car was parked in the apartment garage, with the engine facing out, Carlo must have taken care of it for me. Good boy!
My Toyota was short so there was plenty of room in front of it for us to park the two Yamahas.
Three weeks after our trip to Washington Carlo reported that he and Dave were texting daily about little stuff in their day. He said he was pushing him hard to fly down and visit and they were discussing dates. He also said he was talking more to the baby faced Mexican kid named Joe at the deli. He said Joe had an interesting story I might want to hear.
When I asked what was interesting he said he was thinking along the lines of a large class action case like the one in Florida. So I asked him to invite Joe over on a Saturday for dinner and beers. They agreed on this Saturday.
I asked if Joe was gay and Carlo said he had no idea but he didn't wear a ring and never talked about dating girls. Carlo said he suspected Joe was possibly gay and an incel.
Saturday arrived, I worked the first part of the day but got home around 11am. Joe was due to arrive around 4pm, I guess we were having dinner together. I asked Carlo if he drank or got high and he said he didn't think so, but wasn't sure. He never mentioned it.
I answered the door knock, Joe's handshake felt like a corpse but he was two inches taller than Carlo, which surprised me. We discussed dinner and he said he'd like to order from a Thai restaurant a mile away. He said he lived about three blocks from here and he corrected Carlo, Joe was half-Thai, half-Mexican but he was born in California. I thought to myself that was why his lips were shaped that way, kind of turned out and large, the kind of lips that felt wonderful sliding up and down across the head of your dick. He said his grandparents were Khmer, born and raised in southeast Thailand, his father was Mexican, his parents met and fell in love in Bangkok but his only living relative now was his grandmother on his father's side. The others were missing.
He ordered something like a vegetable soup with pork and diced Thai red pepper dipping sauce on the side. Carlo and I ordered beef and chicken Pho (pronounced: Fah) and extra noodles and extra rice. Carlo paid for dinner, all three of us went downstairs to meet the delivery guy who arrived on a small 49cc scooter. We looked closely at his ride before he left, it was a small Honda with 4410 miles on it. He said it went 41mph tops but he was saving up for another modification to remove the speed limiter inside the variable transmission.
Back inside during dinner Carlo got Joe to start talking about his childhood. Sometimes he was hard to understand because he spoke very softly with an almost childlike voice. I caught a glimpse of Carlo running his voice recorder on his cell while the kid talked.
Joe said he was born on a farm in the Central Valley near Lancaster, California. He said his family was basically being held prisoner by a large produce growing company. They were economically trapped and couldn't leave, plus there were constant threats and beatings. People disappeared without explanation but illegals from Mexico poured in to take their places, unaware of the danger.
They weren't always paid, the company said they couldn't afford payroll yet the managers drove around in large new SUVs. They were hauled to the fields seven days a week in old busses, if you got sick or injured they might fire you or you might just disappear one night. He said he heard they burned migrants along with dead chickens from the chicken barns. They ran the bones through a wood chipper.
He said he was warned if he tried to run or complained you'd be caught, beat, then black bagged and gone forever.
I asked who they worked for and he said it was a big company called American Produce Inc., but they worked for an employment agency and lived in one room shacks by the fields. They shared outhouses and had no electricity, their water came from a hand pumped well. Sometimes if you let the water sit in a glass it had tiny oily drops floating on top. They thought it was insecticides (in the water) they sprayed from airplanes which left oil spots on water in the canals.
"How many people were stuck there?" I asked.
"I don't know but it was a lot, hundreds, maybe a thousand, but they're been running that business since the 1940s."
Carlo glanced at me and I glanced back.
Carlo asked Joe where he lived now and he said he lived with his elderly grandmother in an apartment with others that escaped the farms. They escaped late at night in the back of a truck and made it to Los Angeles overnight. He said if he ever got caught they'd kill him. He said he lived in a three bedroom apartment with two other families. He shared a tiny bedroom and bed with his grandmother, it was just the two of them now, everyone else was missing. All those people shared two bathrooms and one kitchen. It was 11 people in a three bedroom apartment, the entire building was like that and it stunk and was full of bugs and mice.
Carlo looked like he was getting angry and said he wanted to go see his apartment sometime, Joe agreed to show him.
When Carlo asked him if he had any friends he could get help from Joe said no, he had no friends but he went to church every Sunday. We found out it was the same church Carlo took me to.
We already knew he didn't speak Spanish but Carlo thought he knew a few words so he simply asked, "Maricon?"
Joe looked upset, smiled, and barely nodded yes. Then he gestured to himself and me and said "Y estamos." (us too).
Joe simply ignored his comment and kept eating his soup with diced red chili peppers added. I knew from watching that his food would be super hot.
Carlo reached over with his chopsticks and asked if he could try his, but Joe warned him it was hot. About four seconds later Carlo jumped up and ran to the kitchen and guzzled water from the faucet. We chuckled but eventually he came back all red faced and panting. "Holy shit dude how can you eat that?" Carlo said loudly, we all laughed.
About halfway through our meal he asked Joe if he'd like to see the bad guys at the farm punished for killing people.
At first he didn't reply then he said he wasn't willing to lose his life to get revenge, which was God's job. Carlo told him we could possibly take their money and maybe put them in prison if he was willing to testify under oath in front of a judge and Joe said he'd think about it. He added that he just wanted to go on with his life.
"What happened to your parents?" Carlo asked.
"I dunno, Abuela said they're all ghosts now, like the others."
"Don't let them get away with that Joe." I said softly, he glanced at me in the eyes then went back to eating his soup.
Carlo offered him a beer and he accepted, after that was gone he brought bottles to the table and Joe started drinking shots of tequila.
We spent the evening at the table talking. As he got more and more borracho he also talked and laughed louder. When he got loud he also had a hard time keeping his hands off Carlo. After he started yawning we knew he'd be gone soon. Joe passed out mid-sentence at the table, set his forehead on his arm and that was it. Joe even told us not to try to guilt him into feeling responsible for the people at those farms, I apologized but was surprised he understood that.
We ended up carrying him to the living room and parked him on the sofa and took off his clothes. Like most Hispanics he had a perfect belly button. His flat hairless chest had tiny brown tits, he looked like he could pass for a boy except he was too tall. Carlo pulled down his briefs, he had a full crop of long wirey black pubes (looked Japanese) and a small uncut dick with large balls. Joe was deeply Gonesville and never responded to being undressed or carried. We covered him with a flannel sheet and neatly folded his clothes on the coffee table and left him to sleep it off.
In our room Carlo said he felt like he only weighed 95 pounds and was just skin and bones. I asked how he'll feel when he wakes up in his underwear on our sofa.
"Probably bad if he missed church with his grandmother."
"What time would he need to be there?"
"10 to noon for most family services."
"You know for someone that didn't speak a word of Spanish he certainly understood it well." I commented.
"That's what he told me." Carlo defended himself then added that sometimes when a person is brought up in a bi-lingual family they blended the two languages and they became inseparable in their mind but was considered English, so he may be fluent in Spanish but not realize it because he understood both and never thought of them as two languages.
"If his story is true this could be the case that bought the big boat." Carlo smiled.
"You want a job as an investigator?" I asked and he just shrugged his shoulders. I told him to investigate if we could fly there from here, he said okay and then we snuggled into each other. I deeply inhaled the scent of his hair and closed my eyes. Going to bed with the scent of Carlo's hair somehow made me feel secure and relaxed, like a puppy sleeping by his mother's warm belly and hearing her heart beat regularly.
At work I added a small comment to their blog about possible civil rights violations by a very large profitable produce company in the central valley, then added three dollar signs. I posted it on the company blog where everyone contributed suggestions about possible large cases.
That afternoon I was called into the big boss's office to further explain my posting. He decided they would stop giving me new clients and I was to investigate further. I asked for someone to assist with fact finding, someone with brown skin that would go unnoticed in that community, they authorized me to hire someone.
That evening I offered Carlo the job and reminded him about the risks of asking questions in a town with a history of people disappearing. He accepted the job at $45 an hour and said he was going to buy a 9mm pistol. I told him to drive over to the harbor and grab one of the Zombie Slashers too and always carry it, but not in the shower.
When I said that he stared at me and simply said, "Nerd!"
Carlo found a regional jet service from Santa Monica Airport to Palmdale Regional Airport and rented a closed storefront building with a locked garage in back, it used to be a car repair shop. We put a few things in the building, like a fax and answering machine with a land line and we got a window AC unit and a small refrigerator and some chairs. Carlo said he was going to design a security system for it too, but we should never keep anything of cash value in the place until improvements were made. He also suggested we hang a sign for a cover story: Carlito's Photography or something similar, `by appointment only.'
Carlo started going there on Mondays and coming home on Wednesdays. He talked to the migrant workers and made recordings and took photos. I bought him a car to drive there that wouldn't attract attention, a 1999 Dodge Caravan with tinted windows, small body damage to the back bumper, and missing hub caps.
He saw the place where they said human remains were being incinerated along with the dead chickens from the huge chicken farm. He went there one night and sifted through the mound of ashes and bone fragments and found remnants of human bones, joints way too large to be birds or even hogs, skull fragments, and sections of large bones like human pelvic bones.
Over the months he gathered evidence and took lots of notes and photos. The bone fragments were identified as human remains at a private forensic pathologist in LA. They also found bones of aborted human fetuses.
Two months later my employer took me off all my clients and had me focus totally on this case. We interviewed hundreds of people but so far Carlo had no troubles in town. If they were capable of disappearing people then Carlo was in danger and he swore he was acting appropriately. The Mexicans currently working for them were all willing to contribute and stay quiet about it. Six months later we talked to the California Attorney General about the case and said we'd handle the investigations for the subsequent class suit against American Produce which was a fourteen billion dollar privately held company. The owners lived in Gilroy, California in a very nice estate that sort of resembled a walled fortress. The suspects worked for the produce conglomerate, the labor service, and the chicken producer.
We invited Joe to come over a few more times while that was going on. He said he was fine and still living with his grandmother, sharing the same bed and going to church every Sunday. He told Carlo about the time he woke up in his underwear in our living room with a pounding headache, we told him he asked for help getting undressed but didn't remember. He said that was the first time he did that and wasn't raped.
When Carlo pressed the subject Joe admitted he did not know when he was born and didn't know for sure how old he was, but he thought it was 20 or 21, even though he could easily pass for 16.
Carlo offered him money to help improve his life and Joe smiled, shrugged his shoulders and said `sure.' I think he was expecting to be handed fifty bucks. We knew he was working for $14 an hour at the deli as a line cook, a customer facing server who made sandwiches for a living. Carlo said he had a killer smile and everyone loved talking to him because he had all the cuteness and innocence of a puppy.
Carlo went into our bedroom and came out with bundles of cash we had leftover on Susan when we arrived in California months ago. Carlo tossed them on the table and he said thanks but didn't count it.
I told Joe to count it we had no idea how much it was. So he started looking at the paper straps and set them all side by side on the table. We used a notepad and calculator and counted $10,500 in US currency. Joe was speechless, we were both happy for him. He said this would buy dentures, glasses, hearing aids, and a cane for his grandmother. Then he got up and hugged Carlo and kissed him on the mouth, which surprised both of us. Carlo told him he was welcome to come work for us as an investigator if he was willing to risk it, but Joe said no thanks. We invited him to come back again for dinner, we enjoyed his company.
While the investigation was going on I made secret plans for Thanksgiving weekend, our office was closed for the week but open for emergency calls.
I arranged for us to fly to Hawaii for four nights in Honolulu on Waikiki Beach. It was all set, all I had to do was convince him to go to LAX with me. Carlo had planned on visiting his mother in Florida that weekend but I had to convince him he shouldn't go. We had a photo of her framed on the wall in our living room we took during her visit back in May. He took a shot of her on the long Venice fishing pier with the coastline and ocean in the background, she had a broad smile and looked truly happy.
Long story short I got Carlo in an Uber without any luggage and into an airplane for the five hour flight to Honolulu. I told him it was a surprise trip because I forgot about his 29th birthday back in August. We took a taxi to the Royal Hawaiian Hotel on Waikiki Beach for four nights (wed, thur, fri, sat). Being Thanksgiving weekend the flight and airports were packed. After we arrived we had to go to four stores to buy clothes and bathroom stuff because we brought nothing with us. Carlo said that was the first time he flew somewhere without a suitcase.
The next day (in Honolulu) the guy I hired a week ago to perform a wedding ceremony met us at the Diamond Head Summit Observation Center entrance, it was the two of us in shorts, sandals, and Hawaiian shirts. After the long hike up the volcano crater wall we stood by the railing looking down on the beach we were both awestruck by the beauty of the place.
The extinct volcano crater called Diamond Head sat on its own bit of land with oceanfront on two sides, and Honolulu on two other sides. The volcano is basically the southwest corner of that island. You can see at a glance from a distance that it's extremely old but it's overgrown with lush green vegetation and looks nice from Waikiki Beach. The crater is about a mile wide east to west and about three quarters of a mile north to south.
Because of the prevailing winds and surf Waikiki Beach has mild surf conditions most of the time, the big surf is miles away at the north end of the island. People come from all around the world to surf the north shore in December and January. Parts of the big Siberian storms that cause the big surf eventually hit the west coast and march across the USA bringing vast amounts of rain and snow, but they bring huge waves to Hawaii first.
Carlo stood beside me in the wind, we held onto the railing alone on a platform at the top of the volcano crater's west wall. He told me he loved me and I told him I loved him too.
"Carlo - will you marry me?" I asked.
"Yeah sure. I think we agreed already, right?"
I gestured to an old gray haired man (standing about 40 feet away) wearing a black suit with that white collar thing, he walked up and started performing the ceremony, reading it from a small bible in his hands. First he confirmed who we were, then he read his script. When I turned Carlo around and held his hand and he saw that a priest with a bible just happened to be standing nearby he chuckled out loud thinking it was a prank.
Carlo was completely caught off guard and got teary eyed but answered his parts correctly, "I do." Then it was my turn and I also replied with an "I do." He congratulated us and told us to kiss to complete the ceremony, we kissed briefly and shook hands with the retired priest, he handed me his card and left. Carlo held onto the railing (because of the 35mpg wind gusts) and looked out at the ocean with tears on his cheeks and his hair blowing freely. We stood there at the railing for a while not speaking, he asked, "What about rings?"
"Neither of us wears jewelry."
"Oh yeah."
"I got something better back at home for you."
"Better than a surprise trip to Hawaii and a priest that just happened to be standing near us?" He asked nearly laughing.
"Yep," was my minimal reply.
It took a while to walk down the crater wall to street level then we walked all the way back to the hotel (1.2 miles) and went to our room, it took ninety minutes to get back but it was a nice day for a walk, it was almost dark outside by the time we got to our room.
In our hotel room he grabbed the room service menu and started planning our dinner. It almost seemed like he forgot about our wedding ceremony on the volcano.
After he got off the cell (he called his mother to tell her he just got married) I asked what time dinner was ordered because we missed lunch and I was hungry, local time was 5:58pm.
He called room service and ordered steak and lobster, veggies, and bread for 6:50pm. He asked for them to add two candles with our dinner because we got married today. They suggested ordering the newlywed meal option and he agreed. They had a newlywed package that included candles.
We sat at the wobbly table by the window and ate dinner by candle light. They delivered our stuff along with French Champaign, a small cake, and a box of chocolate covered macadamia nut clusters with a bow around it. I was shocked it was an actual bottle of French Champaign: Veuve Clicquot Vintage Brut Champagne 2012. The menu listed it as $130 a bottle.
The highly carbonated white wine made us both belch over and over but we drank the entire thing and then had beers. While the alcohol flowed I extracted two loads from him and he fucked me on the bed.
Carlo performed beautifully like a proper husband he serviced me often, I counted. Over two days he came nine times, I came three times. I shot video of one of our sessions.
That evening we called for extra bath towels and changes of bedding two times but promised to leave a hefty tip.
On Friday morning we took a taxi to the office of the guy that performed our wedding to sign papers and pay the bill, he charged a lot extra for climbing up the stairs to the top of Diamond Head but said he'd done it several times. After his office we took the form to the courthouse near downtown Honolulu and got our license, and then it was official and properly recorded in state records. That crap took four hours but at least everyone was very nice. On the way to the courthouse we drove past the store front office of Da Kine Bail Bonds (Dog the Bounty Hunter), it's an actual business in a rundown neighborhood near downtown Honolulu.
On Saturday we flew home, the flight back home usually went faster than the flight there because of winds. It was really neat, on the plane whenever the flight attendant came over to ask about food and drink options Carlo answered for both of us without any hesitation.
We got home at 2:15pm and got on his bike and rode up the PCH to Oxnard for hot dogs and fries. I rubbed his flesh under his shirt the entire way there and going back home too.
On Monday at work I called my bank and asked them to get me a bundle of cash, five hundred thousand bucks in fifty dollar bills, I'd be there just before closing on Tuesday to pick it up.
The next day I stuffed the bundle into his underwear drawer, that was going to be his wedding gift but I assumed he thought I forgot. It took him almost three weeks to discover it.
A week later he heard from Dave, seemed all that lobbying paid off, he asked if he could come down, he wanted to tour UCLA, his family convinced him to go to college and wanted him to look at some schools, UCLA was his first choice for an MBA. Carlo said if Dave went he'd go to if they could do it together.
David flew down that Friday morning, they took an Uber to Disney and spent the day there and texted me a few photos of them after water rides when they were both drying off with their shirts off, arm in arm just like Dave and Carly. Both of them had huge smiles, I never thought I'd actually seem them shirtless in public together like best friends. I wondered who took the photo but it went low enough to capture two nice belly buttons too. I could see water inside Carlo's, his cell had a great camera (and it was waterproof too).
He stayed until Sunday then flew home, it's only a 100 minute flight to SeaTac. Carlo said they never fucked but talked about it and decided not to. He asked Dave to see his record breaking boner and after they were drunk Friday night he relented and sat there on the sofa with Carlo on his knees stroking it to life but Carlo got to taste it a few times. We noticed his hair had grown out a lot and his big surgery scar was almost invisible now. He told us he was taking anti-seizure meds now after he had two petite mal seizures at home. That told me he'd never be able to drive a car again, except maybe on private property.
On Saturday night Carlo got plenty drunk and even went to bed early, Dave and I sat on the sofa and talked about Panama, we got under the flannel sheet we kept by the sofa and sat facing each other wearing shorts and no shirts, Dave kept resting his foot on my crotch and sometimes moved it around but I don't think he understood he was making me super horny.
Late in the evening, around 1am Carlo had already gone to bed and we were alone in the dark living room talking on the sofa when he spoke about Carly. I reached down and lifted his bare foot to near my face and held it and rubbed my cheek against his foot while he talked about her appearing in his dreams several times. He told me he asked her if she wanted the guys that killed her to die and she said yes. Then he asked if I remembered our private chat in the cemetery and I said yes. He said she wanted revenge, I told him it might take a while but I'd make sure it got done, it might not even be this year. And I reminded him he could never speak of it again.
I put his foot down and got to my feet, and nearly fell down because I was drunk too. I gestured for his hand and walked him to my desk in the bedroom, Carlo was asleep on the bed in his underwear, I gestured to Dave to be very quiet. I started my computer and whispered directly into his ear to show me exactly where she was killed on the map. He sat in the chair and scrolled the map lower and lower down the west coast of Mexico then stopped in Guatemala.
He immediately scrolled into the small town of Rio Bravo, then moved north to the highway, then showed me how there was like a large S-curve on the highway and west of there was a long straightaway, both sides of the highway were trees in rows, he said they grew mostly coffee there. Near the highway was a building with a small parking area and about ten cars and trucks outside. He whispered they had to wait there for a truck to stop that would take them to the border, but that building had a meth lab inside and because they stood on the highway near it for a few hours then snuck up on them assuming they were government spies, he said he saw them grab her and she started struggling and screaming then everything went black and he woke up two days later in an airplane on his way to Washington and was told she was missing but presumed dead due to the evidence at the scene. She was found nearby a week later by farmers. He said he believed it had been a meth lab for years and probably still was, that was why getting a truck to stop and pick them up was so hard.
I exited the browser and shut off the computer and moved him back to the living room, closed the bedroom door.
We got back on the sofa but he was getting tired and was yawning. Dave got up and moved around and got back under the sheet but rested his head on my chest, he reached over my stomach and held me and fell asleep with his face pressed into my chest. I had been hard for hours and my underwear was drenched on the front from sitting there with him practically naked for hours.
I woke up at 7am when Carlo got up to pee. We were asleep on the sofa, his face still on my chest when Carlo came out to see what was going on. He gestured to me if we fucked, but I nodded no. So I gently got up and went to bed with Carlo. We slept until 11am and woke Dave.
He made his flight home on time, with a headache. He said he'd be back. We shook hands at the airport and he got in the TSA line.
Two weeks later I contacted a guy I knew here and paid cash for the revenge Carly wanted. There's more than a few mercenary types for hire in Central America. With enough cash in the right hands almost anyone can be killed. I handed the cash and a map and asked for the finger of God to reach down from the sky.
It appeared on the world news three weeks later as one of the largest meteors to penetrate the atmosphere in decades, since the big one in Chelyabinsk, Russia back in 2013. But that meteor never hit the ground, the one in Guatemala and left an impressive crater too.
The meteor fell to earth in the daytime sky with a high energy blast that destroyed a square mile of coffee trees and a factory building, twenty three people died in the blast.
I heard weeks later it was a steel drum was shoved out the door of a small airplane at 9,500 feet, it detonated 300 feet above the coffee trees, nobody saw it fall. The only remains were chunks of steel roof trusses, concrete slabs, some steel car parts, and bleached white human skulls and large bones. People said the site looked like Hiroshima.
Dave texted me two days later and asked if I saw the news item about the meteor that hit Guatemala, I said I saw it but didn't know much about meteors. Too bad so many people died, it looked like it was a direct hit. Dave texted back, "Yeah, direct hit, too bad. Carly was into space stuff, she would have liked to see it."
"Yeah, too bad."
Contact the author: borischenaz gmail
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As of today, this book should end around page 507, should be online fully in January 2022.