Full Black - Brad Thor [70]
Ralston had picked the small boutique off the Internet and told Alisa that there would be an envelope waiting for her when she got there. She wasn’t crazy about all the cloak-and-dagger, but she had agreed.
Ralston figured his picture had to already be circulating with the police. It was only a matter of time before it wound up on the news and he was named as a “person of interest.” The last thing he wanted was to meet Alisa anywhere near a television set or where a police car might roll by. Fortunately, California offered the perfect place for them to meet and talk without being disturbed.
Knowing what a fashionista Alisa was, especially when it came to her shoes, Ralston had written a note telling her what to buy and where to meet him, and then had Hank leave it with one of the salesgirls at the boutique. Forty-five minutes later, Alisa showed up.
Fifteen minutes after that, she exited the store wearing a new, much more casual outfit and a sensible pair of shoes. Hank followed her from across the street and watched as she walked back to her car, popped the trunk, and deposited the shopping bag with the business attire and highheeled shoes she had driven down from L.A. in.
To her credit, she didn’t pull the note back out of her pocket. She knew where she was supposed to go next.
The street ran downhill toward the ocean, and it was easy for Hank to hang back and watch. Convinced that she was not being followed, he pulled out his cell phone when she got to the little restaurant and called his house. Ralston answered on the first ring.
“She’s clean,” he said. “I’ll see you in five.”
Ralston had not wanted to leave Salomon alone. He was still sleeping, but Ralston was afraid of what he might do if he woke up and no one was there. He might rationalize a quick call or email to his office and then all hell would break loose.
When Hank got back, he described what Alisa was wearing and then handed over the keys to his car. Ralston had borrowed a change of clothes from his friend, plus a baseball cap and sunglasses.
Hank gave him ten minutes and then picked up his phone. Dialing *67 to block caller ID, he described Alisa to the hostess and asked if she could bring her to the phone. As it was midafternoon, it didn’t take long to track her down.
“The beach should be very nice right now,” he said, “especially south of the pier.” Then he hung up.
Alisa went back to her table, paid for her Diet Coke, and left the restaurant. She walked the block and a half down to the beach and stepped onto the sand. The weather had been nice for several days. It was sunny and the sand was warm. She didn’t visit the beach normally at this time of year. In fact, she didn’t visit the beach much at all. Between the kids and work, she didn’t seem to have much time.
Owing to the unusually nice weather, there were more people out than she would have expected. Only in California, she thought, could this many people avoid work in the middle of the week. She looked around for Luke, but she didn’t see him, so she continued walking toward the water.
The waves were a decent size and there were dozens of surfers bobbing up and down in the ocean, waiting for the next one to carry them in.
At the water’s edge, she removed her sandals. It felt good to be barefoot. She watched as a nice wave began to form and the surfers paddled hard to catch it. Tilting up her face, she stood for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun.
She had no idea Ralston was standing behind her until he spoke. “Hello, Ali.”
Alisa didn’t turn around. She wasn’t ready yet. She stayed where she was, her face upturned to the sun. “When you close your eyes and listen to the sound of the ocean, it’s hard to imagine there’s anything wrong in the world.”
Ralston let her have a few more seconds of soaking up the sun. The years had been kind to her. Being a mother, a wife, a successful attorney, it all seemed to agree with her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.