Pearls of Asia: A Love Story (29 page)

“Oh really now?” teased Sheyla, once again not taking ‘no’ for an answer. “Now that you’ve had me in bed, you’re too busy for me?”

“Sheyla, you have no idea how much pressure we’re under to make an arrest.”

After a way-too-long-pause on the phone, Sheyla spoke up. “What if I had some information that could help you?”

That was the last thing Mac expected to hear. “Depends. What have you got?”

Sheyla played coy, as always. “I’ll tell you over dinner. Meet me in an hour at this fabulous little Mexican place at the corner of California and 19
^th
Street. I hope you like tequila.” As always, Sheyla hung up first.

“I’m an idiot.”

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

Thursday, September 18, 2008 - 9:00 pm

“Due to margin calls and a dramatic falloff in commercial real estate activity, Paul Osher is negotiating with a consortium of banks to refinance or sell some of his properties in San Francisco, including several luxury hi-rise apartment buildings.”

The Wall Street Journal

S
HEYLA DIRECTED MAC TO
Tia Margarita, an old-style Mexican restaurant located in Sea Cliff, a quiet neighborhood known for its large houses, sweeping ocean views, and never ending fog. Sheyla had picked the non-descript restaurant for two reasons. First, it was far off the beaten path and would allow them to have some privacy. And second, they made the best margaritas in town. Despite the relative obscurity of the neighborhood, Sheyla decided to make her presence felt by wearing a low-cut red silk blouse topped by a black Gucci leather jacket, with black Escada custom fit jeans tucked into a pair of Louis Vuitton leather boots. The only “designer” elements at Tia Margarita were the tortilla chips, designed by a guy named Frank.

After ordering a pair of Grand Marnier margaritas, Mac got right down to business. “Okay, Sheyla. Let’s hear it. What have you got for me?”

“Okay, Mr. Big Time Detective, I wanted to tell you something about Paul. Did you know he’s going broke?”

“Everyone’s going broke, aren’t they? At least that’s what my mom tells me every morning when she opens up her Wall Street Journal. Where did you learn this? Isn’t Paul Osher one of the richest guys in town? He’s supposed to be a financial legend.”

“Oh, please. Paul is barely a legend in his own shower. Anyway, last month we went to Las Vegas and he said he might need to move me into one of his other apartment buildings. The building I live in is his premier property and he’s selling it to pay off the bank. He’s leveraged up to his eyeballs. The financial crisis is crushing him.”

Mac took such a huge gulp from his margarita he gave himself a brain freeze. He would never discuss the details of a case with Sheyla and he wasn’t about to now. But she had just provided a lead both he and Mayes hadn’t even considered. He was pissed and embarrassed at himself. He ordered another margarita.

Sheyla continued. “And did you know he recently bought a huge life insurance policy on his wife, with himself as the beneficiary? Ten million bucks! She was worth more to him dead than alive.”

Mac was blown away. “That’s a good piece of detective work, Miss Samonte. Now let me ask you something. Do you have any proof, or was this just pillow talk?”

“That’s your job, Mackey. I’m just the messenger. But don’t you see how much I care for you? I could have kept Paul’s financial problems a secret, but I want you to solve this case and be a big hero. I want you to be happy with me, too.”

Feeling pleased with herself, Sheyla asked the bartender for two shots of premium anejo tequila, along with another basket of chips and salsa. Sheyla had a talent for building instant rapports with bartenders, and the two started speaking to each other in Spanish. Mac remembered what Mayes said to him about Sheyla, about how she could be trying to steer the investigation away from her and Paul Osher. But she had just laid down a set a train tracks that led right to Osher’s front door.

The hour was late, so Mac decided to look into this development first thing tomorrow morning. Now was the time to relax. Besides, Sheyla looked so hot, she could have set off the sprinkler system.

Sheyla downed her shot and ordered another round. “Mackey, now that we got the police stuff out of the way, let me ask you a question. If we’re together a year from now, would you take me home to meet your mother?”

“Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?” he answered while finishing his margarita, with a pair of tequila shots still waiting for his attention. Mac was beginning to learn that trying to keep up with Sheyla at a bar was like bringing a knife to a gunfight.

“I’m just playing with you, Mackey. Just for drill though, what would your mother say if you told her we couldn’t have children?”

“You don’t know my mom. They broke the mold when they made her. She’d probably say we should adopt a few kids from Haiti and live on the beach. She’s a very cool lady, my mom, though she’ll rip your heart out if you’re on the other side of a trade with her.”

“I love that! She sounds so cool. I can’t wait to meet her. Tell me about your father.”

Mac went quiet, his face devoid of emotion. He downed one of the tequila shots. “Like I told you the other night, Sheyla. I don’t want to talk about him. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a father.”

Sheyla polished off her second tequila shot, and she would have ordered a third if her date wasn’t so far behind. “I’m sorry, Mac. I know how you feel. But I want to share something with you, something that’s taken me years to learn. Remember how I told you my father disowned me the moment I told him I wanted to transition? For years afterward, I was angry with him. I carried around feelings of hostility and bitterness like a hundred-pound backpack. Then one day I realized those feelings of spite and revenge were only hurting me, keeping me from becoming the person I wanted to be. I couldn’t control how he felt about me. I could only control how I felt about him. So instead of hating him, or even worse, ignoring him, I decided to forgive him. It was a difficult decision, and I agonized over it, but I’m so glad I did it. An incredible weight was lifted off my shoulders, and I’ve been so much happier ever since. It was the best decision I ever made.”

Mac drank his second tequila shot. Sheyla had taken a shovel to his spirit, and in a few short sentences she had dug her way into his soul. How could this person, this mysterious woman whom he had only met days before, massage the knots of his flaws so easily? Years of repressed anger and guilt began to bubble their way to the surface, penetrating the scabs of scars healed long ago. Feeling weakened and defenseless, Mac tried to shield his emotions by asking her one simple question. “What would you say to your father if you ever saw him again?”

“I’d give him a hug, and then I’d tell him I love him. Deep down, my father knows he made a mistake. I’m sure your father feels the same way. But you need to forgive him, Mackey. Forgive your father with all your heart and soul and move on with your life. Otherwise you’ll never get rid of the pain, and it will hold you down like an anchor on a ship. Someday you’ll need to forgive your wife, too, because she’s just trying to live her life, a life that you didn’t want to be a part of. And somewhere down the road, you’ll need to find the strength to forgive yourself for Larry Kelso getting shot.”

That was it.

Sheyla’s digging had found its way to the very core of Mac’s being. His skin paled and his shoulders slumped. He looked like he had just been punched in the stomach. The gaze he gave Sheyla was as distant as a desert horizon. “How did you know about Larry Kelso?”

“Simple. I Googled your name and there it was; a hundred stories about a cop’s best friend getting shot on Christmas Day. Remember the first time you knocked on my door and I wouldn’t let you in? After you left, I decided to check you out. That’s why I was late for work that day. I’ve known about Larry Kelso the whole time we’ve been seeing each other. I was just waiting for you to say something, but then I began to realize you don’t open up to anyone. You made a mistake, Mackey, plain and simple. But it’s okay to feel pain, because pain happens when you care. But instead of dwelling on it, do something about it. Learn from it and move on. You think you’re a failure because you’re not perfect. That’s stupid. It doesn’t make any sense. You’re not a bad person just because life has dealt you a few bad hands. You’re just like me, Mac, taking what life has thrown at you and trying to find a way to make the best of it.”

Mac reached down and squeezed Sheyla’s hand. He could feel himself getting emotional, but it wasn’t the tequila that was making his eyes tear up. “I thought you were the puzzle we were trying to solve.”

Sheyla put her arm around Mac’s neck and pulled him close to her, their foreheads leaning against one another. Mac could feel tears starting to fall from his eyes, his first in over two decades.

“God had a plan for me when I was born a boy,” she continued, “and I never would have become the person I am today if I wasn’t. It took me a long time to realize that, but not only did I forgive Him, I thanked Him. You need to do the same, Mackey. You need to embrace the experiences of your life and grow from them, and not use them as an excuse for being unhappy. You’re a good man, Mac Fleet. You’ve earned the right to be happy.”

Like rain falling from a sunny sky, Mac shed tears of relief. For the first time in his life, he had met someone who wanted to help him unwind the bands of doubt and self-loathing that caused him so much angst and misery. He hugged Sheyla, and buried his head into her shoulder. She hugged him back, harder than anyone had in years. It was as though she were trying to squeeze the pain and guilt right out of him, replacing it with the belief she had in growth, in passion, and in life.

Mac tried but speak, but his tears were doing the talking. Meeting Sheyla Samonte was the best thing to ever happen to him.

SHEYLA LIT CANDLES ALL
around her apartment, energized after getting her tequila fix. “Let’s Stay Together” by Tina Turner wafted from the stereo. “By the way, Mackey, if you haven’t figured it out by now, Tina Turner is my favorite singer.”

“I was wondering about that,” responded Mac, who was occupied opening up a bottle of champagne. “You got something against music from this century?”

“No silly. Something about her music just speaks to me; the strength of her voice, the honesty of her lyrics. Whenever my girlfriends come over to drink wine and gossip about men, I put on her hit, “What’s Love Got To Do With It.” Do you know her story? How she left her abusive husband with just thirty-six cents in her pocket, and she wanted nothing from their divorce except her name? She’s a woman who believed in herself and wouldn’t give up until she achieved her dreams. I adore her music, and the way she’s lived her life has made her my idol.”

“That’s great,” said Mac, pouring two glasses of bubbly. “Let’s have a toast to a true American idol.”

“Not so fast,” she responded. “It’s my turn to make the toast. Here’s to breaking the rules.”

Mac had broken them all, it seemed, and he knew it. Sheyla was like a drug, and he was addicted to her. “You can say that again.”

“I would, except I’m a woman who believes actions speak louder than words. Now you wait right here while I change into something to match my mood.”

Mac poured himself another glass of champagne. He sat back and relaxed, expecting Sheyla to return wearing something that would blow his testosterone level right off the Richter scale.

Sheyla reappeared, strutting into the room like a cabaret star. To say she met his expectations would be an understatement. Wearing a black lacy corset with matching garter belt, panties, and stockings, along with a pair of thigh-high stiletto boots, Sheyla was the girl your mother had always warned you about. Times ten.

She joined him on the couch, and the two flirted with each other like two school kids sitting together in the back of the bus. Soon they were kissing each other as though it would be for the last time.

Mac placed his hand first on her breasts, and then slid it down onto her thighs. Sheyla quivered as he stroked his fingers along her soft skin, and she moved her leg to give him the freedom she so desperately wanted him to have. Mac slid his hand under her panties, and he touched her in a place that made her stop and catch her breath.