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Wouldn't mind something like that.
Moss Landing was a stretch of marinas, shops and restaurants scattered along a sandy road that paralleled Highway 1. The houseboat was anchored in a secluded portion of docks. In its heyday, the years of plentiful fish, the Steinbeck years, this spot was home to hundreds of fifty-and sixty-foot fishing boats. No longer. Some pleasure craft, a few small seafood operations--party boats and commercial--and then, like here, a houseboat or two.
Stemple parked about a hundred feet from the place. The three CBI agents climbed from the car and slowly made their way toward the boat. A beat-up Toyota was parked in the weed-filled lot in front of the vessel. Or house. Or whatever.
"One car only. But doesn't mean she's alone." Stemple made a fast security sweep. And returned. "Looks good to me."
Dance looked at her phone. She said to Gomez, "TJ. He's telling me no paper on Alonzo. Yellow sheet--lewd and lascivious, prostitution, public drunkenness. Years ago. She's been a good girl since then."
"Nothing violent, then."
"Nup. But we have to assume she's armed."
Gomez said, "And you're not, right?"
"Nope. Stay close, Jimmy."
"Oh, I will."
"And, Al, stay glued on the perimeter."
"Gotcha."
They approached the boat, which was called the Lazy Mary. Stemple didn't like the name. Wasn't elegant. If he had a houseboat, he'd call it something like Diamond Stud. No, too tacky. Home of the Brave. Good. He liked it.
Near shore was a breakwater, so the occasionally ornery Monterey Bay waters didn't intrude here. Today the Lazy Mary rose and fell, Stemple decided, lazily.
Gomez glanced at Dance, who nodded and said, "Let's do it."
They walked over a short gangplank and onto the deck, painted gray, scabby. Gomez knocked on the door.
It opened and they stepped inside.
Stemple looked out over the marina, adjusted his Beretta on his wide hip and crossed his arms.
Chapter 55
Fifteen minutes later Gomez, Stemple and Dance were driving back to headquarters.
She called the task force and got Carol Allerton.
"It's Kathryn. You're on speaker here with Jimmy and Al."
"You're speakered as well. Steve Foster's back. And Steve Two too." Uncharacteristic humor from a somber member of the DEA.
"Steve and Steve," Dance said.
"Hi, Kathryn." A pleasant greeting. Lu, of course.
"Yeah?" A gruff voice. Did Foster ever utter a cheerful syllable?
"We just left Moss Landing," Dance said.
"And?" Foster grumbled.
"Tia Alonzo hasn't seen Serrano for a month. I believed her."
Silence from Foster now. He didn't say what he probably wanted to. About Dance's skill in nailing lies.
