Chapter Six
“I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.”
― Mark Twain
Juan motioned for her to sit next to him. The bus was already in motion, but Kitty managed to make her way up the aisle.
“I was looking at the GoPro movie I made,” he signed. His face was pale and sweat beaded his upper lip. “I have it all. Everything that happened.”
Thank the Lord. Kitty glanced down at the GoPro in front of her. It held the answer to Heather’s death. Maybe she’d been wrong after all. Maybe it was all just a terrible accident.
“I downloaded it to my phone and I’ve watched it about five times. I don’t think it could be any clearer.” He held up his phone and pressed play.
Kitty leaned forward, unable to keep from watching as Heather floated toward the screen. She could see the instructor behind her. It was the young man who had run up to the crew at the last minute. She recognized him because he wasn’t wearing the uniform. He looked tense, almost scared. Heather brushed her hair out of her eyes and flashed a huge smile.
She slowly passed by and waved cheerily. Juan must have turned his head because the camera followed her. The instructor reached around to Heather’s front and seemed to be working at something. She looked down, trying to brush him off, and then she was slipping out of the harness. Grabbing the bar, Heather let out a small scream. She slipped further. Juan had turned his head as far as he could to watch her and his instructor’s shoulder was blocking part of the frame.
Then, as clear as daylight, Kitty saw Heather’s instructor reach down and rip her fingers from the balancing bar. Heather’s piercing scream sounded on the video, and she vanished from sight. The camera view swung back toward the front.
Juan stopped the video and rested his head back against the seat. “We went to visit them yesterday. My cousins are poor, but surviving like a lot of people are here. But Luis he had money now. A lot of it. Said he was buying a brand new truck. I was worried that he’d gotten into drugs. I asked him where he’d gotten so much money. He said he’d saved up.”
Swallowing back a wave of nausea, Kitty tried to clear her mind. So, it had been murder all along. Chica had been right. “But why?”
“Someone paid him, obviously. Someone who wanted her dead.”
A low growl caught Kitty’s attention and she turned to see Tink baring her tiny teeth. She was sitting on Lacy’s lap and glaring at Duke, who didn’t spare her a glance. He seemed to be doing his best to comfort Zoe, who was staring into space, a look of shock on her face.
Noticing Kitty watching her, Zoe got up and came a few seats closer. “What are you guys talking about?” she asked, looking at the GoPro. She was still wearing the ridiculous tank top, Moody stretched across her breasts.
“This video,” Juan said, and handed his phone to her.
Zoe watched it, her face going pale. “But why? Did he know her?”
“I don’t know how he could,” Juan said. “Has she ever been on a cruise to Cancun before?”
“Not here. Turks and Caicos. The Seychelles Islands.”
Kitty noticed that nobody asked why Heather would be murdered at all. She’d certainly given several people motivation. She glanced at Reagan who was picking at her nail polish and looking irritated. Lacy was stroking Tink’s fur and readjusting the little pink bow in the dog’s hair. Being a terrible person was reason enough, but the way she’d treated her friends over the years could certainly have pushed one of them to the limit. Maybe more than one of them. Maybe they were all in it together.
Zoe didn’t have the kind of money Juan was talking about, as far as Kitty knew. If she’d paid Luis to kill Heather, she would have had to borrow it from someone.
Possible, but complicated.
Kitty looked at Reagan. She certainly had motive and the money. Reagan looked up to see Kitty watching her and raised her eyebrows. Zoe pointed to the cell phone and passed it to her.
“Wait. We should keep that safe for the―” Kitty started to sign but Zoe wasn’t looking at her.
Reagan hit play and Lacy leaned over the back of her seat to watch. Kitty couldn’t see Reagan’s face because her hair was hiding her profile, but Lacy’s eyes got bigger and bigger. A faint scream echoed from the video and Lacy turned her face away, starting to cry.
Ralph and Judy noticed the commotion and edged closer to watch. Penny and Elaine waited their turn. Soon the entire bus, minus the children, who were being occupied by Anne, had seen the ghastly video of Heather’s murder.
Lacy wiped her eyes and took the phone. “What if it’s just an illusion. Maybe he really was trying to save her.” She rewound it until she’d reached the point where Heather started to pass Juan. Chica sat up and stared at Tink, who was doing her best to chew through part of the seat. The little Pomeranian jumped forward and let loose a rapid fire series of barks. Chica didn’t flinch, but Kitty put a hand on her collar anyway. Better to let Tink chew the seat than to bite someone.
Kitty held out her hand for the phone. “We should be careful with that. It’s evidence.”
“You’re right.” Lacy handed it back. “They’ll need all that information for when they charge the horrible man who killed her. He was clearly insane. Nobody in their right mind would do such a thing. What will I tell her parents?”
It was probably the most Kitty had heard Lacy say at one time. She wondered if Lacy felt like the alpha of the group now that Heather was gone. As if in answer to her thought, Lacy set Tink on the seat, stripped off her tank top, turned it inside out, and slipped it back on. Spacey was visible, but backwards. Picking up Tink, Lacy settled back in her seat.
“What about Tink?” Kitty asked. “She was angry before. Now that she’s lost her owner, her personality might undergo a real change.”
Lacy’s face went hard. “Are you saying I should give her away just because she’s not very nice? Well, Heather wasn’t very nice, either, and we all stayed by her.”
“No, I meant―”
“And don’t even think about getting involved in it. This isn’t your job. So, stay out of it.” Her expression was furious.
Kitty nodded slowly. She’d started to say Lacy might prepare for the changes in Tink’s personality by watching some videos on pet grieving, or maybe taking her to a doggy counselor to help them connect. It was clear that Lacy didn’t intend to let go of Tink, and she didn’t want her to think it would be easy.
The driver pulled into the parking lot and Kitty saw ‘POLICE STATION’ written in giant letters in English on the front of the building. Underneath it said, ‘Policia Turistica Ministerio Publico’. There was something unsettling about the size of the lettering, as if it needed to be seen from outer space.
Leander was already waiting for them at the door. As they filed passed him into the large waiting area, Kitty said quietly, “See if they’ll interview Juan first.”
He nodded and went to speak to the chief. Kitty watched him out of the corner of her eye. She’d never been a particularly persuasive person. She was direct, like Chica. Diplomacy wasn’t her strong suit. She admired people who always knew the right thing to say. She managed to get by on sincerity and kindness. When that failed, she simply waited for whatever awkward situation it was to fade away. That wasn’t going to happen here. Someone had killed Heather, and it was very likely that someone was standing within a few feet of her. The thought made her shiver.
Officers began to separate them, leading them into small rooms. Kitty was left standing alone with Chica. She looked around the no-frills station and noted the lack of vending machines, water fountain, and comfortable chairs. It was meant as an intake and process area, not a place anyone would want to spend any amount of time. Comfortable was the last thing they wanted a visitor to feel. Leander appeared and motioned for her and Chica to follow him. Chief Sonora, a young officer, Juan and Anne were seated at a small table
. Rosie was between Juan and Anne. The two children sat on the floor, coloring on plain pieces of printer paper. Kitty edged her way in past Leander, hoping she didn’t smell of sweat and the police van. The room was cramped and the air was stale. Kitty wished someone would crack the window just a bit.
“I recorded the whole thing,” Juan said, passing his phone across the table as Kitty translated for him.
The chief didn’t look impressed. “So, she fell.”
“Yes, but the instructor did it. He made her fall.” Juan’s expression was tense. “I don’t know why.”
Frowning, the chief picked up the phone, holding it in his hands without pressing play. Kitty wondered if he was simply waiting for more information or if he didn’t trust the video.
“You are related to Luis Rubio?” the young officer asked.
“Yes. Distant cousin.”
“Distant? A cousin is a cousin,” the chief said. “You went to see him yesterday?”
Kitty tried not to show surprise. They must have already interviewed Luis. That was far faster than what she’d expected from the Cancun police.
“Yes,” Juan admitted. He swallowed visibly. “He told me he was buying a new truck, that he’d saved up a lot of money.”
“Do you think he saved up money?”
“No. He doesn’t make enough to buy a truck. Play the video,” Juan said suddenly. “You can see it there.”
“Ah, yes.” The Chief turned the phone around and around. “You just happened to catch the whole thing. How convenient for you. It is probably on the internet.”
Anne put her hand over her mouth.
Internet? Kitty frowned. It would make more sense for Juan to deny he had the video. She was missing something.
“I would never post that. It’s not what my channel is about.” Juan’s face had turned blotchy with anger. “People follow my videos because they’re interesting and I show them how to do things like…” He paused to gather himself. “Car repair and gardening.”
“Gardening? People watch you tend your plants?”
“Yes. There aren’t any other deaf youtubers that talk about gardening. I show them how to prune and fertilize and…” Juan stopped signing and gazed at the table. He could tell the chief didn’t believe him.
The chief leaned forward. “But wouldn’t this make you go―how do they say―viral? You would be famous. All your videos would get lots of views.”
“I wouldn’t. I swear.”
The chief shrugged. “Maybe I should confiscate the video.” He watched Juan closely for a reaction. “I see you have copies.”
“On the GoPro. I just saved it to my phone.”
“And uploaded already, I am sure.” The chief held the phone up. “Play it for me.”
Juan took it and scrolled through the videos. He frowned. “I can’t find it,” he said.
The chief leaned forward. “If you are keeping evidence from the investigation―”
Leander moved forward. He’d been silent during the questioning, but now he cleared his throat. “Mr. Rubio has suffered a shock. He has come here voluntarily to be questioned, and has offered evidence in his possession. He has done everything right.”
The chief flicked a gaze at him. “He is also a suspect until I say he is not.”
Anne gasped. “How could he be? He was up in the air!”
“There are many ways to kill a woman, Mrs. Rubio,” the chief said. “We won’t know the truth until we examine all the evidence.”
“I really― I can’t find it.” Staring at the phone, he checked the files again and again. “Maybe it got deleted when we were passing it around. But I still have it on the GoPro. It’s in my camera bag. We were told to leave our belongings at the front counter.”
Juan started to stand.
“Sit.” The chief motioned to the young officer. “Go retrieve his bag.”
Several minutes passed in silence. The chief seemed to be looking through all of Juan’s pictures and even played a few videos of Anne and the kids swimming at the beach.
The young officer reappeared with a small, black bag. Juan’s name was clearly marked on the side in silver marker. He handed it to the chief, who opened it and looked up, expressionless. “Where is it?”
“The GoPro? It’s in ―,” Juan started to sign, but he could see the bag was empty.
The chief tipped it over and dramatically shook the bag, as if a GoPro would magically fall onto the table. “Now we have no video, and no camera. And the man who killed this young woman happens to be your cousin.”
Anne was gripping Juan’s arm very hard. “Please. We have nothing to do with this. Nothing.”
“We will decide that.” The chief stood up and walked to the door. “Do not leave.”
Chica heaved a sigh and settled down on the floor, her head on her paws, as if to say, Here we go.
As soon as they were gone, Kitty wrapped her arms around Anne, then Juan.
“We’re going to go to prison,” Anne signed, tears pooling in her eyes. “They think we did it.”
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you home safe. Leander won’t let you go to prison.”
“We’re going to do our best to make sure all legal protocol is followed, and that includes comfortable accommodations while they investigate,” he said, but there was a line of worry between his eyes.
Comfortable accommodations? The night Kitty had spent in the embassy house, without electricity and with a hurricane bearing down, sprang into her head. She’d nearly gotten lost in the jungle and Chica had come face to face with a jaguar. There was no chance she was going to let either of them get into that kind of situation again.
Meeting Kitty’s gaze, Leander gave a small nod. Whatever happened, they were going to catch the Heather’s killer before he or she hurt anyone else.
Chapter Seven
“Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.”
― Helen Keller
A young officer opened the door and pointed toward Leander. “You are needed at the desk.”
“Try not to worry,” Leander told Anne and Juan.
They nodded, gripping each other’s hands.
After Leander left, they sat in silence for several minutes, Kitty’s mind racing a hundred miles an hour. Someone was working hard to cover up their crime, and so far, they were doing a very good job. The only video was gone, plus the camera. The chief seemed intent on connecting Juan to the crime, simply by being related to the killer, but something didn’t add up. It wasn’t just that Juan didn’t seem the type to kill anyone. Kitty had learned the hard way that looks could conceal a diabolical nature. It was a matter of why.
The young officer returned. “You are needed in room four.”
Squeezing Anne’s hand, Kitty gave her another confident smile. “It’s going to be okay,” she said.
The officer pointed toward the room at the end of the hall. “Go there,” he said. He didn’t bother to smile at her, simply turned around and went back to the reception area.
Kitty sighed. “Chica, you’ve got to help me out here, girl. I’m a step behind. Ears up.” Chica wasn’t just more observant or a good judge of character. She had an eerie sixth sense that had saved Kitty several times.
Walking down the dingy hallway, the lights flickered in the white tiled floor. Kitty thought of every horror movie she’d ever seen where the heroine walks down a long hallway, as the murderer creeps up behind her. She tried to keep from turning around, but her nerves failed her and she glanced behind her.
Reagan stood just a few feet away, Duke by her side.
Kitty gasped and clutched her chest. “You scared me.”
“Why?” She walked closer.
“Shouldn’t you be in an interview room?”
“I had to go to pee. Then Duke had to go. We just came back from outside.”
Outside. Which meant she’d gone past
the front desk where they’d left their things.
Reagan brushed back her golden blond hair and sighed. “I bet we don’t get to go parasailing now.”
“What?”
“I mean, the rest of us didn’t get to go, did we? I really wanted to.” She tugged at her shirt. She hadn’t bothered to turns hers inside out like Lacy.
It might be the only chance she got, so Kitty forced aside the awkwardness and asked, “Why did Heather make a shirt that says Drunky?”
She glanced down, as if surprised to see what she was wearing.
“Oh, yeah. The night Heather hooked up with my boyfriend? You know, the night he became her boyfriend?”
Reagan seemed to assume Kitty knew the story.
“Well, I had too much to drink.” She shrugged. “It was only one drink, actually, but Heather made it with Everclear. That stuff is like one-ninety proof. I was a mess. Barfed all over myself and then passed out.”
“And when you woke up?”
Reagan smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Brian was Heather’s. That was senior year of college. It’s hard to find a deaf boyfriend, you know, especially at a regular college. In our high school, it was easier. Maybe that’s why she didn’t try to steal any of my boyfriends then. But Brian was too good to pass up. Going to law school, house on the Cape, parents were doctors. Sure, he could be a real jerk to people he thought were low class, but he was totally cute. I was sure we’d be engaged in a few months. Anyway, three years together and one drink changed everything.”
“I can’t imagine.” She could, a little. Minus the alcohol and the barfing.
“If you do, add another ten times what you think it was like.” Reagan’s smile grew and this time she looked sincerely happy. “Honestly? I’m glad she’s dead. Now I don’t have to hold her stupid, ugly bouquet while she marries my boyfriend.”
Kitty felt goosebumps erupt all over her body. Reagan had the motive and the means. Was she confessing? Or was this as simply the poison of a bad friendship leaking out, like pus from a lanced boil?
Death on the Wind Page 6