by Keene, Susan
Maria rose and stood behind him. “Would you like to stroll in the gardens? This time of day the shade makes it pleasant even in the afternoon sun?”
We spent the next hour roaming around outside. I had only seen grounds as elaborate as hers in magazines. “Do you tend this by yourself?” I asked.
She pointed to a patch of multicolored flowers on the East side. “Ivy did all of the work on the section there. She worked hours. I would hear her cry and talk to herself as she planted and pulled weeds. We left her alone.”
I moved closer to have a better look. “Why do you think she left after all of those years?”
Maria came to join me. “In the seventh year, several stories came out about the family. They called it an accident and told how the entire family plus the captain and his wife were declared dead.
“She didn’t say anything for days. I mean nothing. Out of the blue, she walked up to me and asked how she could get back to the States. She had no ID, no passport, nothing.
“I put the word out to some unsavory men who did illegal things. They came here a month or two later with the papers she needed to leave. I gave her money. I spend very little. She said her mother and father were rich doctors and as soon as she did what she had to do she would be back with my money.”
Maria no longer held back her tears. I didn’t know whether to go hug her or not. I decided against it.
We stood silently until Bonita came through the door with a box. She handed it to me.
I reached for it. “What is this?”
“I do not know. An unpleasant man brought it and said to give it to the American woman.”
Ryan said nothing. He turned on his heel and walked around the side of the house toward the front.
He came back a few minutes later and shrugged his shoulders.
I looked at all of them. “Should I open it? I’m a bit nervous about the contents.”
Ryan stepped up. “Would you rather I opened it?”
“No, it is addressed to me. Not exactly to me, it reads Kate the detective who doesn’t know when to stop.”
There were steps to the porch garden entrance. I sat on the bottom one, put the box on my lap, and began to pull at the tape. I shook it. Nothing. “Oh my!”
Ryan sat beside me. “What is it?”
“It's pictures. They are of the inside of our house, my office, and inside the mansion. More pictures of Amy, Nathan, the dogs, and the men you left to guard them. There is a note. This is my last warning. Stop now. Let this go. Ivy was dead all of those years. She is dead again and this mystery is over. Go home.”
Ryan took his cell phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll be back in a few. I am going to call the office and Nathan. I need to know how this could have happened.”
Maria and Bonita went inside. I didn’t move. I looked at the photos over and over again.
Ryan came closer to me. “The cameras were taken over remotely. Jacob said he caught it as soon as the alarm went off. He knows how they got into the system and swears it will never happen again. The burglar alarm went off at your office. The men responded but found a tech there who said he was from the monitoring service and he fixed it. Ronny tried to stop him, but he was too fast. He jumped in a cab and was gone. They lost him in Clayton traffic.
“Of course no one saw the man at the house. They handled it electronically. The person at the house could have been blocks away. The man at the office was small, dark-skinned, maybe Latino, and fast.
“Let’s go. We need to get back to the camp. I don’t want to navigate that horrible road at night.”
I stood and put my hand on his chest. “I only want to see one more thing. It will only take a moment.”
I asked our hostess if we could see Ivy’s room.
Bonita led us to a small room near the kitchen. It, like the rest of the house, displayed bright, bold colors. On the walls were pen and ink drawings. They were good. The children in them were most likely Ivy’s siblings. The pictures of her mother and father were so lifelike I recognized them. One man was depicted with a red devil mask above him and there was one in which her father stood holding his head in his hand. He had an odd smile on his face.
Maria let me capture them on my camera. She walked us to the door. “You two be careful. It took a monster to do the things Ivy described. If that demon is still alive, he could hurt you.”
Ryan leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek.
CHAPTER 14
K ate, he's out to scare us. Are you scared?”
“No, now that I know how he got the pictures, I feel better. Let’s find him and get this over.”
We were on the washboard road back to the camp. Our words sounded more like noooot noooow. I feeeel betttter.
I put my hand on Ryan’s leg. “Maybe we should hold this conversation until we get out of the car. It is getting dark and we were told not to travel this route at night.”
He took one hand off the steering wheel and put it on top of mine. “I’m hurrying. Top speed, if we don’t want to tear up the car, is seven miles per hour.”
“It’s the longest eight miles I’ve ever traveled.”
“Take this time to go over things in your mind. I'll get us back to camp before dark.”
Ryan was right. I should use the time wisely. I did have several questions. Why didn’t Ryan’s men question the man in my office when the alarm sounded? How did he get in? The alarm company I used was Mead Security International. Ryan owned it and wouldn’t give access to anyone but his own men. Was there more than one killer? The man we were looking for had to have help to get the pictures and still follow us to Mexico. At times I wondered how many people were after us, one at the house, one at my office, and one in Mexico. Maybe he wasn’t where we were. Maybe he stayed in St. Louis and paid someone to deliver the pictures. Too many questions without answers. Ryan interrupted my thoughts. “You realize the Donnelsons will ask questions about where we’ve been.”
“Let’s tell them the truth. We toured the mission, had lunch at a quaint place, and strolled around the little town.”
“See, I got you here safe and sound before dark.” Immediately after he said the last word, shots rang out. We ducked down. The shells penetrated the back window and sailed right on through the front windshield. One second earlier and we would have been dead.
Excited voices came from every direction. Most of them shouted in Spanish. One man walked calmly to the car and asked us to step out. “I apologize Senor, Senorita. I don’t know who did this, but we will find him. If he left by car, we can catch him on foot. If he ran into the woods, he won’t get far. The people here have been here for years and know every inch of the area.”
I shook from the ordeal. “What if he left by boat?”
“Not possible,” he said. “We are in the upper waters of the lagoon. To maneuver the narrow channel cannot be done at night, not by the best sailor.”
Ryan extended his arm to offer a handshake. “I’m Ryan Mead, this is Kate Nash.”
“I know who you are and why you are here. I’m Agente Martin Hernandez of the Policia Federale.”
Ryan and I glanced at one another. I spoke up. “Why are you here?”
People had gathered around. I’d venture to say everyone in the camp stood within fifty feet of us. The Donnelsons were mysteriously missing.
He turned to the people and said in extremely good English. “Sorry to alarm you all. A hunter was shooting. A mountain lion wandered too close to the camp and he went to take care of it.”
There was an audible gasp from the crowd. “He got turned around and shot toward the road. The animal has since been trapped and is about to be relocated. You can all go on with your evening. Everyone is safe.”
He gave his attention to us. “Follow me to the camp office. We will not be disturbed or overheard there.”
It wasn’t a friendly suggestion.
We went in and sat in the two seats in front of the desk where we were checked in two d
ays earlier. The agent sat behind the desk and took a notebook from his shirt pocket, and read from it. “Ivy Tucker was found dead on your property. You traveled to Chicago, Illinois and spoke to the neighbor and people at the hospital where the Doctors Tucker practiced medicine. Since that time, many questions have come up about the Tucker case and to make a long story short, the authorities reopened the case.”
I crossed my legs. “Why? What new information has come to light?”
“I’m not authorized to tell you much. I can tell you this is much bigger than a family being lost at sea. It includes facts the authorities want to stay hidden. The FBI and the Federale Police here are joining forces to find the truth. This is no job for amateurs. You should stop investigating now before one of you gets killed.”
Two things I hated. One was being called short and incapable. The second was to be called an amateur. “I am NOT an amateur. I spent five years as a detective in the St. Louis Homicide Division. I’m a black belt in karate. I can take care of myself.”
Ryan added, “As can I.”
“I have my orders Senor and Seniorita. If need be I can drive you back to your plane myself and see you leave our country.”
Ryan stood, indicating we were leaving. “We are on vacation, sir. We have one more day of whale watching here and then we are spending a week in LaPaz. There is certainly nothing wrong or illegal about our trip.”
“No Mr. Meade, there is not. If you get in our way, you will find out what the inside of a Mexican jail looks like. It is not pleasant.”
I stood next to Ryan. “Do you threaten all of your adversaries? I assure you. We want the same thing as you.”
He stood, leaned over, put his hands on the desk palms down. “This is your last warning. Stay out of this.”
We didn’t go back to our cabin. Dinner time had snuck up on us. We found two seats around the campfire. The cooks prepared another mouthwatering meal. There were bottles of soft drinks, beer, and wine coolers stuck upside down in a massive tub of ice. Ryan got us each a drink.
I took a deep breath, resigned not to let something I couldn’t fix at the moment, ruin a beautiful evening.
We whale watched with the Donnelsons the next day as though nothing happened.
On Sunday, we retraced the trip me made to San Ignacio Lagoon, in reverse. This time we drove the entire trip in one day and went straight to the airport. We didn’t stop at the police department on our way back.
The Meade International airplane was in a hanger. We drove in and boarded.
Jackson, the pilot lounged in a seat with a beer and a pizza. He literally jumped when he saw Ryan. “Sorry Jackson. Didn’t mean to scare you. Sit down, finish your dinner. Have you been sleeping on board?”
“Not exactly. I have a room at a nearby hotel. I came back the other night and someone was in the hanger. I chased him off. I have hung around since.”
Ryan took the seat across from him. I sat on the other side. “Did he do any damage?”
“No. I think I caught him on his way in. Just didn’t want to get in the air and find out we had a problem.”
“We were going to sleep here tonight, but we don’t have to.”
“By all means, sir, it is your plane.”
I went to the bathroom at the back. “Jackson, you sleep in the single behind the cockpit and we'll sleep in the bedroom. That way we can be packed, keep an eye on the plane and be ready to go when they okay us.”
The pilot took another bite of his dinner. “Are we still going to LaPaz?”
Ryan answered. “Yes. As soon as we can in the morning.”
“Then the flight plan has been filed. It was what we discussed when you left. I just didn’t expect you so soon.”
I was exhausted, took a real shower and went to bed and left Ryan and Jackson to a hot game of Hearts.
CHAPTER 15
I dreamed of men with knifes, big guns, and somber faces, I dressed in black and hid from FBI agents searching for me and Ryan. I tossed and turned all night.
The flight to LaPaz took less than an hour, but making our way through customs took some time. I had an inkling the authorities wanted to see if we brought items pertinent to the case back from the Lagoon. By the time they were done, they knew what style and colors I preferred in underwear and whether Ryan liked boxers or briefs. I started to ask why we were in customs in the first place since we didn’t leave the country. I knew I should leave well enough alone. Thankfully they didn’t look at my phone and discover the pictures I took of Ivy’s drawings.
Again, Jackson insisted he stay with the plane.
We checked into the Posada de as Flores La Paz. Beautiful described it perfectly, it was a two story structure with a bright red tile roof. Beyond the front door, a swimming pool with crystal clear water, and small cabanas for those who wanted to stay in the shade. Barefoot waiters in tight black dress pants rolled up past their ankle and starched white shirts unbuttoned to the waist to show the deep sun tans and muscles scurried around with colorful drinks supporting umbrellas, and toothpicks in the shape of animals. They bowed deeply as they set the drinks and finger foods on each table, tucked their trays under their arm in a flashy dance move and backed out of the area.
The back of the building opened up to the Sea of Cortez. The sands were as white as snow and the sea different shades of blue and green depending on the depths.
Our suite was two story, the entire bottom floor had red, blue and yellow tile in a circular pattern that ended in front of the couch with a single green tile.
I knew the floor would be cool and damp from the constant traffic of vacationers going in and out to walk on the beach. The rear windows on both floors provided full views of the Sea of Cortez.
Although our goal was to find the childhood home of Sharon Tucker, we couldn’t be in such a picturesque place and not explore. We put all of our belongings on the top floor. If someone broke in, they would have to take the time to go up a flight to look around. It might be a deterrent to nosey people.
The first day we snorkeled off Espiritu Santo Island. The place teamed with sea lions. They were huge. We kept our distance from them and they did the same.
The next day we ate dinner at a café near the hotel and took a bicycle ride to the El Comitan neighborhood where Sharon, then Gonzalez, lived as a child. Each street held a dozen or so stucco cookie cutter homes. Were it not for the different numbers on the gates and different taste in flowers, they were all alike. The residents were older. We saw no one younger than perhaps seventy. Some men in a park played Parcheesi, but stopped to answer our questions. A few remembered the pretty girl who visited her parents and became a doctor in America. Her parents moved away long ago.
The next morning we went to the library and looked up her high school and college yearbooks. Sharon excelled at every challenge she tackled, girls basketball, academic all-star in tennis. Quite the achiever.
The bike ride in the heat and sun wore us out. We spent a couple of hours under a cabana at the pool drinking Margaritas and eating cold peeled shrimp and oysters on a half shell.
Once rested we went to our room.
Ryan, who had been looking out the upstairs window turned toward me. “It gets more strange all the time. First, who takes their children out of school for an entire semester to take a sailing vacation? How do two prominent doctors from one of Chicago’s biggest hospitals work it out so they can leave their practices for an extended length of time? And why is it the FBI, Federalies, and local police in at least a dozen municipalities can not find one clue in fourteen years? And lastly what are they so afraid we will discover?”
I walked over to stand beside him. “It seems as though they may have been running away. But away from what? Why plan so long and let everyone know your itinerary if you plan to disappear?”
“I wonder if the wrong captain was really a bad stroke of luck or if they did it on purpose. Maybe they are in hiding.”
“Nothing we can do right this minute. Let�
�s enjoy our last night here.”
We sat on the balcony upstairs and looked out at the sea. “I miss my dog,” I admitted.
Ryan filled my wine glass. “I’m ready to go home myself.”
“I think we should give this a rest for a few weeks. Let’s make the FBI, and every other interested party think we took the warning and are leaving it to the authorities. Then quietly look into the lives of the Tuckers more closely.”
“I say yes to going home. Nathan doesn’t like to be boss. He does a good job, but he only keeps things going. While I’m gone, nothing progresses.”
* * * * *
I didn’t think Chili would ever settle down when we arrived home. Digger acted nearly as bad. Ryan and I sat on opposite sides of the room. The dogs jumped from me to him and back again.
Amy walked behind me, leaned down and gave me a hug. “I am so glad you're back. I love your house but I’m ready to go home.”
I patted the hand she had on my shoulder. “I bet you are. How did work go while I was gone?”
“We have a couple on the burner. Are you interested? Nathan is sweet, but let’s face it, he’s not good at the private investigation gig. He’s an alarm man all the way.”
Amy walked around and sat next to me. “One is a short change artist. It’s more than one. Don’s Malt Shop is run by teenagers. They do a good job, but someone shortchanges one of them at least once a week. I have it on the surveillance tapes. He goes in, orders a milkshake to go. He pays with a twenty or fifty dollar bill. The customer counts his change and then asked for change for the ten they gave him. He doesn’t really give them the ten. It goes on like that. These kids aren’t stupid. He’s good. I think he could fool me.”
“Do we need to take care of it tomorrow? I had visions of sleep, American food, and playing with Chili.”