Robert Liston - The Tower of Evil

He drove to The Sally and began his first run out to the clinics, Addie Kinkaid was not there, but he saw her later in the morning, walking on Chapala Street near the bus terminal. He pulled up beside her, said, “How about a cup of coffee?”

“That would be wonderful.”

He parked in city lot five-75 minutes free parking-and they entered a small eatery in Victoria Court, a charming warren of boutiques and curiosity shops. “Breakfast?”

“No, thanks, coffee will be fine.”

She smiled, but there was no joy in it. This was a deeply unhappy woman, and who could blame her? She was attractive, intelligent, obviously accustomed to better things. “How’s it going-or is that a stupid question?”

“I’m beginning to get the hang of this life.”

“I wish you didn’t have to make the effort, Addie.”

“Her eyes carried a hint of fear. “How did you learn my name?”

“I made a few inquiries. You’re Addie Kinkaid, daughter-in-law of a very wealthy man. Am I right?” She looked startled. He had a sense she was trying to fend off his words. “How did you go from great wealth to The Sally.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“It’s a little strange and I’m intrigued. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

She hesitated, sighing deeply. “You helped me the other day. I guess I owe you.” Another sigh. “It was only yesterday, wasn’t it? The days are long, living on the street. There’s nothing to do.”

“You don’t owe me, Addie.”

She looked at him. “I don’t know your name.“

“Walter, Walter Byerly.”

She looked away from him. “It’s a familiar story, Mr. Byerly-pretty girl, handsome guy, fraternity party, booze, spread legs, pregnancy.” Her lips firmed into a hard line. Bitterness entered her voice. “I should add ruined lives to that list. I was stronger-willed in those days, I guess. I refused to have an abortion. When Josh was born, I wouldn’t let the Kinkaids have anything to do with him, unless or until Junior Kinkaid married me. To my surprise he did.”

She sipped her coffee. “The divorce took about as long as the marriage ceremony. Here I was, Mrs. Karl Evans Kinkaid, Jr., supposedly married into all this money. Ha! What a laugh! I hardly ever saw any Kinkaid, let alone much of the money.”

She looked at him now. “I know I shouldn’t be so bitter, but I can’t help it.” She shook her head. “I know now how truly diabolical they were. I’d get a check every month from some lawyer in New York. It was enough to live on and provide some comfort for Josh, but not enough to give me true independence. It was enough so I didn’t have to work and develop a career, yet not enough for me to put anything aside for my future. I’m in The Sally precisely because of those damnable checks. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“The worse part of it is that I never really raised my son. Even as a boy he had financial independence. He could go to these god awful lawyers, or maybe his father if he was sober, even his grandfather, sometimes just phone them, and get whatever money he wanted for whatever purpose-a toy at first, then booze, drugs and women.”

“It ruined him?”

She shook her head. “That’s too strong a word. I still have hopes. Josh just doesn’t understand what money is.”

“What happened to your husband?”

Another deep sigh. “He drank himself into a looney bin, virtually became a vegetable, then died a few weeks ago. That’s when I discovered I didn’t get a penny. It all went to my son. I had nothing, including a way to earn a living.” She shrugged. “Here I am, talking to you.”

“Hard to believe, Addie. Is there nothing you can do?”

“Nothing, I’m told, unless Josh wants to provide for me.”

“He will, I’m sure of it. Is there anything I can do to help now?”

“Yeah, give me a job and a roof over my head.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you. Actually, there is something you could do-drive me out to the Kinkaid place.”

“Sure, but what for? I thought-”

“A friend of mine, at least someone I know, works out there in the kitchen. She phones me every so often with information about Josh and the Kinkaids. I thought if I could see her she might know where Josh is so I can get word to him.”

“I thought he was in Denver.”

“That was some time ago. He travels with the auto show.”

“Can’t you phone this woman?”

“She told me never to phone, but wait for her to contact me. She doesn’t know where to reach me, which is-”

“Another reason for you to go there.” He arose. “Let’s go.”

Byerly knew roughly how to reach the address she gave him, Pepper Tree Drive, north of Montecito in the foothills of the Santa Ynez mountains. He drove east, then north with Addie Kinkaid in the seat beside him.

“Is there no hope your son’s grandfather might help you?”

“None at all. I only ever saw him once or twice. I don’t think he knows I exist. He doesn’t give a damn for his grandson, either. Josh tells me he’s all wrapped up in his famous, much younger wife.”

“Who’s that?”

“You know her, everybody does, Joy Fielding.“

Walter grimaced. Celebs were Doreen’s thing, not his.

“You know, Dr. Joy, the advice guru?”

That still didn’t mean anything, but he’d learned never to admit his ignorance. Made him feel like a fool. “Oh her, now I know who you mean.” He’d ask Doreen.

“The marriage is not supposed to be commonly known. She says her husband doesn’t like notoriety. I guess it’s like the marriage Dolly Parton has.”

Dolly who? “They live in Santa Barbara?”

“Not really. The Kinkaids have no shortage of places to live. I doubt if they’re in Santa Barbara more than a couple weeks a year.”

Byerly had driven 15 or 20 minutes, making a wrong turn only once. They were in hilly, woodsy country, the road’s curvy and narrow.

“Lord, it’s beautiful out here,” Addie said.

He glanced at her, saw the same gee-whiz expression tourists often had. “It does make one want to sing a chorus or two of Mountain Greenery. Of course I’m no Mel Torme.”

“The leaves are such a deep green, and the foliage is so lush, almost tropical, yet the temperature isn’t much over 70.”

“Cool tropics. That’s a pretty good description of Santa Barbara.”

He finally found Pepper Tree Lane, north of Mountain Road, off of Cold Spring Canyon Drive.

“We sure are in the boonies. Whatever else might be said for him, Kinkaid surely likes his isolation.“

She laughed. “I’m sure that’s true.”

“Just going for a loaf of bread or a quart of milk is a safari. And if the family car broke down and Kinkaid had to walk to work, he might never be heard from again.”

“I doubt if there is a family car or that it would break down. Try a fleet of limos.”

“Or that he goes to work.”

Byerly slowed the van almost to a stop to negotiate a switchback turn. “Do people actually live out here? The only signs of human habitation are wrought iron gates. Maybe they’re keeping out the mountain lions.”

“Oh God, I forgot about the gate! We’ll never get in.”

“We’ve come this far.” He read numbers on mailboxes. “Getting close.”

“There it is, 1392.”

“Would you believe that! The gate’s open. What luck.” He braked to a stop, then looked ahead. “Might as well see how the super rich live.”

The Kinkaid driveway wound uphill, but not too sharply, then began to widen. Around a bend he stopped and stared through the windshield. There it was, as wide as a football field and almost as deep, a castle by God, build of dark stone with a huge single tower in the center. No windows were visible, only an immense mansard roof covering the front.