“I understand,” Jake said. “I wouldn’t really be keen on you doing something with another man.”
“Now that’s just gross,” she said sourly. “Anyway, I’m not ready to have you doing that ... but ... well ... if there was another woman and she and I were ... you know ... doing what two women do ... I do think it would be kind of hot to have you ... watching us.”
“Really?” he asked, feeling a little thrill shoot through him.
“Really,” she said.
“You’re not joking?”
“I don’t joke about things like that,” she assured him with a smile.
Chapter 10: Moving Day
Los Angeles, California
June 21, 1995
Granada Hills was technically part of the city of Los Angeles, but it was about as far from the high rises, the glitter, and the grit as it was possible to get. Nestled in the foothills of the Santa Susana Mountains, the high-income community sat above the San Fernando Valley and was perhaps the least densely populated community within the city limits. Jake and Laura Kingsley were now the proud owners of a twenty-four-year-old home in the community; a 2700 square foot, four bedroom two-story that sat on one of the higher hills just outside the entrance to O’Melveny Park, a mountainous, city owned recreation area full of hiking trails that was second in size only to Griffith Park.
Jake’s original plan had been to buy a condo in downtown LA for those times when he had to stay in the city, but, after seeing what a simple sixteen hundred square foot condo actually cost downtown and comparing it to what a large, secluded house in Granada Hills cost and realizing the second option was actually cheaper—as well as much closer to the rehearsal studio and the new airport he had picked to fly out of—the plan had changed. For the bargain basement price of only $885,000, which Jake had paid for in one lump sum, the quick escrow had closed a week before and the keys had been handed over.
Jake, Laura, and Elsa had spent the last week in the new LA house, having moved completely out of the Nottingham Lane house so it could be put on the market. Its value had gone up considerably since Jake had purchased it for $850,000 back in 1987. Now, because of the normal appreciation of real estate values in the Los Angeles region and the fact that the infamous Jake Kingsley was the current owner, the asking price was $2.3 million. Diane Brown, his realtor, seemed to think he would have no problem getting that much. All of the contents of the home had been placed in two tractor trailer rigs and trucked over to the new oceanfront home in San Luis Obispo county. Escrow had closed on that property two days ago and those contents were due to arrive today. And so were the occupants of that new house.
Today was the official move-in day that Jake, Laura, and Elsa had been planning for the better part of three weeks now. With their belongings en route, they needed to get three cars—Jake’s BMW, Laura’s Cabriolet, and Elsa’s new 4-Runner—as well as Jake’s airplane to Oceano. Laura and Elsa would drive their own vehicles while Celia, who had stayed the night in the guest bedroom of the house, would drive Jake’s. Jake would give them a little head start and then follow behind in the plane, hoping to time it so they all arrived in Oceano at about the same time.
“All right,” Jake said at 9:20 that morning, after everyone had finished the breakfast Elsa had made for them. “Are we all ready to do this thing?”
The three ladies were ready to do this thing.
“It’s a three-hour drive from here,” Laura said. “I’ll lead the way since I’ve been there before.”
“But you’ve never actually driven there before, have you?” asked Celia, who was wearing a pair of white shorts and a red, sleeveless top.
“Well ... no,” Laura admitted. “We’ve only flown there.”
“Maybe I should lead then,” suggested Celia. “At least until we get into Oceano.”
“Why would you lead?” Laura asked.
“No offense, Teach,” Celia said, “but I’ve driven with you before. You drive like my abuela. Always going the speed limit.”
“It’s the law!” Laura protested.
“This is California,” Celia told her. “The speed limit is just a suggestion. People change their freakin’ tires at fifty-five. I’m leading. You keep up. If you get a ticket, I’ll pay it for you.”
Laura thought this over for a minute and then nodded. “Fair enough,” she said.
“Exactly how fast are you planning to drive, Celia?” asked Elsa, who was proud of the fact that she had never gotten a speeding ticket in her life.
“Not as fast as Jake drives,” she said.
Elsa nodded. “Fair enough,” she agreed as well.
They loaded up their respective vehicles, making sure they had water bottles, snacks, and their cellular phones (even though the cell phones would be pretty much useless once outside of the LA area). Jake kissed Laura goodbye, hugged Elsa and Celia, and off they went, heading for Route 118, which would take them to the 101. Jake waved at them until they disappeared and then went back inside the house. He checked his watch. It was 9:35 AM. Now that Celia was the lead driver, the trip would probably only take two and a half hours instead of three. After arriving in town, Laura would lead Celia and Elsa to the new house and then drive to the airport to pick him up. The flight to Oceano would take forty-eight minutes. That meant he needed to be wheels-up at 11:40 at the latest, which meant he would need to leave Grenada Hills by 11:15 in order to give himself time to file a flight plan and preflight the plane.
That meant he had time for a little nap. He took advantage of this, setting his brand-new alarm clock for 11:05 and then climbing into the bed that Elsa had made just a few hours before. Three minutes later, he was asleep and dreaming. Learning to fall asleep instantly and make use of any slumber time, no matter how little, was a skill he had picked up on the Intemperance tours of the past. It was a skill that still served him well on occasion.
At exactly 11:15, he went to the three-car garage of the house. Here were the two vehicles he had purchased last week for he and Laura to use when they were in LA. Laura’s LA car was a gold 1995 Lexus LS400. For himself he’d bought a 1995 Ford F150 with 4-wheel drive. He climbed into the truck, making sure he had the keys to the house and his wallet, and then headed out on his journey.
He had closed out his hangar space at Santa Monica Airport the week before and rented a single hangar at Whiteman Airport in the valley, just seven miles from Granada Hills and ten easy freeway miles from the Santa Clarita rehearsal studio. Not only was this considerably cheaper, but the airport was much less congested, and, under routine circumstances, he would not have to leave the San Fernando Valley at all while in town. He wondered, in fact, why he had not moved his plane to Whiteman years ago.
The small airport had a single 12/30 runway, a control tower that was staffed only during the daylight hours, and no mechanical services. Jake drove his truck over to the hangar he had rented and parked outside, leaving the engine running while he opened the door. His airplane was not inside the hangar; it was tied down in the parking area outside of the main office. He parked his truck inside the hangar and then, after grabbing his carry bag and his own thermos full of iced green tea that Elsa had made for him, closed and secured the hangar and walked over to the office.
He filed his flight plan, preflighted his aircraft, and then, at 11:38, two minutes ahead of schedule, roared into the summer sky. After passing out of the Class B airspace around LA, he turned to a heading of 290, followed the Victor-518 airway to the Fillmore VOR station and then adjusted course slightly and flew to Santa Barbara. After passing over the VOR station there, he turned right to heading 307 and followed the Victor-27 airway, which skirted the edge of the controlled airspace around Vandenberg Air Force Base and then brought him just east of the city of Santa Maria. From there, he passed into the gap between the two Class-C bubbles and turned left toward Oceano to begin his descent. He circled into the pattern and touched down neatly at 12:27 PM. He pulled the plane around to the parking area in front of the office and shut it down. He did not tie it down, however, as it would not be staying there.