Cellar Full of Cole: A Cole Sage Mystery #2 Read online

  “Nice outfit,” Cole said flatly. Over the years, Chris tried to shock, stun, and flabbergast Cole with a variety of oddball outfits, but this was the capper. Cole’s job was not to react.

  “You like my nong doan?”

  “And that would be . . . ?”

  “My skirt. You knew that.”

  “No, actually I didn’t, but your salow is cool.” Cole surprised himself by remembering the name of the blue blousy jacket.

  Chris put his palms together over his head and moved his head back and forth and to and fro in his best imitation of a Burmese dancer.

  “Come on in!” he shouted.

  “I’ll be back at 11,” Rick announced, and he returned to the car.

  The inside of the house was handsome. Done almost completely in Victorian era antiques, dark woods, deep red upholstery, and thick velvet drapes. The home smelled of heavy fabric, rich leather, and money. Chris was the only child of Enrique and Anna Ramos, who died in an auto accident—but not before amassing a fortune in Texas real estate and oil. On his 21st birthday, Chris inherited $34 million dollars, more than enough to allow him to maintain his eclectic fantasies and be free of the bonds of the workaday world.

  “Well, there you are!” Chuck Waddle was standing at the end of the entryway. Tall, thin, and weather-beaten, his rugged Clint Eastwood looks were a strange contrast to Chris’s exotic flare for the dramatic. Chuck wore a pair of black jeans, boots, and a stiff white tuxedo shirt with the sleeves rolled up. As he crossed the room, he extended his hand to Cole and then gave him a great friendly bear hug.

  “Nice place you got here,” Cole said, looking around.

  “All Chris’s doing.”

  “Nice job,” Cole said, turning to Chris.

  “Thanks,” Chris said with surprising shyness. “Hungry?”

  “Starved!”

  “Good! I’ve been bending over a hot stove all day!” Chris did his best Mae West.

  “Okay, stop already!” Chuck knew if he didn’t stop the campy jokes early, they would never get to any serious talk.

  “A girl can’t have any fun around here!” Chris stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout and scampered out of the room, his only movement from the knees down.

  The dinner was remarkable. Chris truly went all out. They began with a coconut noodle soup and a ginger salad. Cole was delighted with the blazing hot, green chicken curry and crispy homemade “thousand layer bread” served with a mild potato curry dipping sauce. The main event was an enormous deep fried catfish in a sweet red mango curry. The flavors were bold and exotic but blended for a meal to not be soon forgotten. Chris’s only break from tradition was a bowl of homemade vanilla ice cream and one of the caramel fudge brownies that were Cole’s favorite.

  “Chris, you haven’t lost your touch!” Cole said, tossing his napkin on the table.

  “Let’s go in the living room where we can talk,” Chuck said, standing.

  “You guys go on. I’ll clean up and change.” Chris grabbed a plate and went to the kitchen.

  The living room was big and comfortable. It was a departure from the Victorian theme of the house and obviously where they spent most of their time. A large fawn-colored suede sectional sofa faced a low fireplace. Their love of books and art were apparent by the overflowing bookcases and several well-lit paintings.

  “You mentioned on the phone that you had business out here. What’s that about?”

  Cole spent the next half-hour telling of his reconnecting with Ellie and the discovery of his daughter. Chris rejoined them about halfway through, having changed into a pair of jeans and a pale green sweatshirt with a hood. Touched by Cole’s tale, Chris shed enough tears to dampen the front of his sweatshirt and several tissues. Cole explained that this was his first time meeting his son-in-law and he was nervous about making a good impression.

  “Who is this guy?” Chuck said to Chris.

  “A kinder gentler Cole it would seem.” Chris wiped his nose one last time.

  There was a lot of catching up over the next hour or so. Finally, Chuck came around to the reason for Cole’s visit.

  “I sort of inherited the job of staff recruitment and development for the paper. I read your piece on the elderly and the thing you did on understaffing of county hospitals. Powerful stuff, not just subject-wise but it was back to form. You got a second wind, Cole, and I want the Bay Area to be the recipient of what you can do. Out here, you’ll have free reign. I have a research kid who is nothing short of amazing. He’s actually the reason I thought of you. Said he met you down south at some paper he worked at, the Daily something. His name’s Randy Callen, remember him?”

  “Yeah, I do. Computer wizard. Nice kid. How’d you find him?”

  “We didn’t. He applied, and in his cover letter he listed Cole Sage of the Chicago Sentinel as someone he worked with.”

  “What a little encouragement will do!” Cole laughed.

  “Anyway, I can increase your salary at the Sentinel by at least fifty percent. You can have your own office. You still in a cubicle? And if you press me, I might even throw in a secretary you have to share with only three other people.”

  “So, I come to California to dig for local and regional crap, you pay me big bucks, and we all live happily ever after. What’s the catch?”

  “A couple. First, all Internet rights are ours, no compensation. Second, all TV appearances must be cleared through our media department. The good news is any honorarium is yours. Look what TV did for Chris Matthews. I need you in the middle of March. My budget doesn’t get approved until February reviews. I need a couple of weeks to dislodge a couple of people, and then you’re in.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Oh, yeah, and a pre-signing bonus.” Chuck smiled at Chris.

  “What’s that?”

  “You have the services of one of the city’s premier apartment finders and decorators at no additional fee.”

  “One who has a warehouse full of goodies he’s willing to loan special friends on a long-term basis.” Chris bounced his eyebrows up and down and mimed flicking a cigar like Groucho Marx.

  “Sounds awfully inviting,” Cole said slowly.

  “Think it over and let me know in the next week or so, no rush.”

  “I’m in,” Cole said flatly.

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m in,” Cole said a little louder. “I would love to. I need to. I got to. I get to!” Cole smiled broadly.

  “Well, all right then!” Chuck laughed. “That was easier than I thought. Hell, I was going to double your salary, I got off cheap!”

  “Yeah, right,” Chris chimed in.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll show you around the paper, and then you can have the rest of the day to look around, do some shopping or whatever. Just don’t let on to anyone what this trip’s about. I’ve just told people that an old friend was coming to town who I’d be showing around. Let’s keep the element of surprise on our side.”

  The tour of the paper was as to be expected. In the words of Mark Twain or Horace Greeley—or maybe it was Timmy the paperboy—” If you’ve seen one paper, you’ve seen them all.” They finished around noon, and on Cole’s request, they drove straightaway to Tommy’s Joint on Van Ness for a bowl of buffalo stew. The sun came out, the storm was over, and the sky was a bright blue, filled with billowy clouds. At 4:15, Cole was back at SFO and on his way to Los Angeles with a new job.

  SIX

  As the plane touched down at LAX, a feeling of complete panic hit Cole like the back-blast of a jet. He spoke to Erin several times after Ellie’s funeral. She wrote letters, sent pictures, and Cole felt they were starting to build a strong relationship. They exchanged e-mails a few times a week; mostly silly jokes and pictures, the usual clutter of cyberspace. In August, he sent Erin a birthday present. Yet, standing in the aisle waiting to deplane, it struck Cole that this was the real thing: Face-to-face interpersonal communication. He worried about the blanks, the silent spots. How would they
react to the uncomfortable lulls in the conversation that were bound to come?

  He gathered his carry-on and banged his way to the front of the plane, hitting at least three people still in their seats. The butterflies turned to flopping chickens in his stomach. Perhaps the two-hour drive to Erin’s house would calm him down.

  As he exited the gate area, Cole shifted the bag of gifts and his old leather travel bag from one hand to the other. There were throngs of people waiting for holiday visits from loved ones, and in the middle of it all stood the most adorable little girl Cole ever saw. Her face was aglow with a huge smile, and her eyes sparkled and darted from passenger to passenger in anticipation. On her feet were a pair of white high-top sneakers, and she wore blue jeans with rolled cuffs. She was wearing a sweatshirt, but Cole couldn’t read it because it was hidden by the sign she was holding that said, “Grandpa.”

  Cole couldn’t help smiling at the thought of some lucky guy getting off the plane to see a doll like her waiting for him. Then he saw Erin. She stood behind the little girl, her hands resting on the girl’s shoulders. Cole walked straight to them and dropped to a crouched position in front of the little girl.

  “Hi, you must be Jenny.” Cole smiled.

  “Are you my Gran’pa?” Jenny said, nearly trembling with excitement.

  “I sure am.”

  Jenny dropped the sign and threw both arms around Cole’s neck, squeezing with all her might. Cole put his arm under her legs and swooped her to a sitting position.

  “I have a puppy. It’s a boy dog, my daddy wanted a girl dog, but the people only had boy dogs, but we took it anyway. His name is Buddy. Do you have a dog?”

  “Hi, Dad,” Erin said shyly.

  “She is amazing!” Cole said with a broad smile. “I never imagined it would be like this. She’s so big, nothing like her pictures.”

  “It’s hard to keep up.”

  “We fixed up a room just for you. Daddy said it was a good thing you were coming or mommy would have never cleaned out all that crap.”

  “Don’t say ‘crap,’” Erin whispered.

  “Oops on me,” Jenny said, looking down.

  “Shall we go?” Erin asked, with an embarrassed smile.

  “Yeah, just let me get all my crap.”

  “Oops on Gran’pa!” Jenny squealed.

  “Oh, thanks a lot.” Erin laughed.

  Cole just winked at her.

  Within minutes of leaving the airport, Jenny was fast asleep. They missed the morning traffic, and the drive on the L.A. freeways was fairly smooth. Erin pulled into the first Starbucks she saw and bought a low-fat Caramel Macchiato for her, a venti Mocha for Cole, and a bottle of apple juice for Jenny when she woke up.

  Once on the road, it was non-stop talk. There was such a comfortable familiarity between father and daughter that it was hard for Cole to believe that, six months ago, he didn’t know Erin existed. They talked of work and Jenny. Erin talked with great pride in her husband’s work. Ben worked as part of a pediatric research group awarded numerous honors, and whose findings were published in the New England Journal of Medicine, a fact that made Erin especially proud. Although she loved her work at the hospital, Erin looked forward to being able to cut back and stay at home more with Jenny.

  When Jenny woke, they made a pit stop at a McDonald’s for some fries and were back on the road. Armed with the French fries and apple juice, Jenny sat in the back seat happily singing and chattering to herself about what she saw out the window. An hour later, they pulled in front of a pale yellow ranch-style house at the end of a cul-de-sac.

  “Look, Jenny, Daddy’s home.”

  A tall man in dark slacks and a blue button-down shirt came out of the front door. Erin rolled Jenny’s window down, which was met with squeals of delight.

  “Daddy!” Jenny called from the window. “We got Gran’pa!”

  The man began jumping and twirling across the lawn toward the car. The more she called out, the more he danced and bounded about, and the more she laughed with delight. Cole was sure any second he would either do a cartwheel or drop to the grass and do a somersault. This was Ben, his son-in-law. So far, so good.

  Before the engine was turned off, Ben opened the door, unbelted Jenny, and lifted her from the backseat. He began to twirl with her in his arms, both of them laughing and squealing. Erin popped the trunk open and helped Cole with his bags.

  “Okay, sweetie, in the house!” Ben set Jenny gently on the grass, and off she scampered. “Hello! I’m Ben.” He bounded toward Cole.

  Cole took Ben’s hand and was pleased with the firm friendly grip.

  “We’re thrilled to have you with us. Please make yourself at home. We tend to be a bit informal.”

  “Just the way I like it. Thank you, Ben.”

  “You guys hungry?” Erin asked.

  “Starved, what should we do?” Ben said, giving her a peck on the cheek and taking Cole’s leather bag from her.

  “I’m thinking the roast I have in the smoker might be a good start.”

  “A smoker?” Cole was pleasantly surprised.

  “Oh, yeah! Wait until you taste Erin’s barbeque. Wow!”

  “I have a daughter that barbeques? This can’t get any better!” Cole laughed.

  “Yes it can! I do beans and slaw.” Ben laughed.

  The three went in and were met by Jenny and her puppy. Cole was happier than he could remember. He had a family. For a brief moment, he thought of his parents and wished they could be there. If he could stop time, this would be the moment.

  Ben and Erin had a warm and kid-friendly home. The evidence of having a three-year-old was everywhere, but it was a homey, happy kind of clutter. As Erin gave him the tour, she pointed out things that they did to the house and how much Ben did himself.

  Erin was the queen of faux painting techniques, and several walls bore one special treatment or other. Cole was quite impressed and told her if the nursing thing didn’t work out, she probably could get a job as an interior designer.

  Jenny’s room was a little girl’s dream come true. Lots of dolls and stuffed animals inhabited the space. The theme was a kind of cartoonish Adventureland. Nothing scary, and everything looked like a bedtime story in the making. Cole thought about the sock puppet in his bag and knew it was just the thing. Under the window was a small desk with a child-sized computer and printer. On the wall was a menagerie of animals generated on the computer, but obviously colored by the three-year-old Picasso.

  The master bedroom was spacious. The bed was huge and covered with pillows ready to prop up readers of the books that covered the bedside tables. Two large chairs sat next to the sliding glass door that led out to the back yard. A low table held a pair of coffee cups waiting to be taken to the kitchen. The morning paper was divided into two separate stacks. Cole was curious to see who read which sections.

  Last stop was the third bedroom, used as a guest room. Ben had already put Cole’s bags on the bed. This room was home to a collection of family photos, awards, mementos, and souvenirs. The first thing to catch Cole’s eye was the photo Erin enlarged of her mother for the funeral. Cole still marveled at how that simple shot captured completely the girl he loved so dearly. To his surprise, on the same wall was Cole on the cover of Chicago magazine, matted and framed like an important document.

  “You expect people to sleep with that staring down at them?” Cole said in a self-deprecating tone.

  “Keeps ‘em from staying too long,” Ben said goodheartedly as he stuck his head in the door.

  “Ben!” Erin said in a mock scold.

  “Dinner in about 15. If you want to get freshened up, bathroom’s on the right. If you need anything, just whistle!” Erin said.

  Cole smiled, remembering how Ellie used the same expression and the terrible Lauren Bacall impersonation she always tried to do with it.

  Erin pulled the door closed and Cole sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Ellie,” he sighed, “you would have been so proud. How could we h
ave been so wrong for so long?” Cole laid back and looked up at the picture of Ellie and her flowing yellow dress, closed his eyes and smiled.

  He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, he heard the door bang open and bounce off the doorstop.

  “Gran’pa, Gran’pa, time to eat! Come on!” Jenny was now pulling on his arm.

  Cole hopped up and followed her out of the room.

  Erin set the table on the patio. The weather was warm as a spring day, just two days before Christmas. Jenny climbed up in her chair and called for Cole to sit beside her. Ben carried a glass dish filled with baked beans covered with strips of bacon. In his other hand was a big bowl of coleslaw. He set them on either side of a large platter of thinly sliced beef.

  “Specialties of the house,” Ben said, pointing at the bowl of dark syrupy barbeque sauce. “Top secret recipe, you know.”

  Erin came with a big pitcher of lemonade, and Jenny thrust out her glass.

  “Not until you eat,” Erin said in a kind but firm tone. “Have I forgotten anything?”

  “To sit down,” Ben quipped.

  Erin sat and Ben took her hand, she in turn took one of Cole’s, Jenny grabbed Cole’s other and then her father’s.

  “For your bounty and goodness, we give you thanks, Lord. We are especially grateful for this gathering of our family and being united with Cole. Bless each one, and we pray for your safe keeping.”

  “Amen!” shouted Jenny.

  “Amen,” Cole said softly.

  The food was delicious, and Cole ate until he was stuffed. The conversation flowed, and Cole and Ben found each other’s conversation fast paced and interesting.

  During a lull, Ben drew a deep breath and said, “Well, Erin has some news.”

  “Me? It’s your news.” Erin smiled.

  “I’ve been offered a position at a children’s hospital. UCSF. It is a great opportunity. It requires a move, though. That part is wonderful. Well, for me, at least. My mom lives in the Bay Area. Downside is, Erin will have to give up her job.”

  “No complaints here!” Erin said with a sad little smile. “No, really, I’m excited.”