by Carrie Doyle
“There’s been a break-in at Casa Mango. The police need you to identify if anything is missing.”
He clicked off without waiting for her response, stoking her irritation.
When Plum arrived, the air was already heavy with heat. Today would be a scorcher. She peeled off the cardigan that matched her sheath dress and knotted it around her neck. In her haste she had forgotten to lather herself with sunblock and worried her pale skin would crisp. That was one addition to her morning routine that she had to remember. She was used to giant skyscrapers acting as sunblock, but now she required the real thing.
A sour-looking young policeman tried to wave her away from Casa Mango’s entrance, but she snapped at him, and after seeming momentarily confused, he waved her through. She had learned early in her career that making it appear as if you belonged, whether you did or not, always worked like a charm. And today she did not have time for explanations.
She found Jason and Deepak looking sulky, seated on the sofa in the living room when she entered. Voices were coming from down the hall, and two policemen stood and stared at the front window and discussed something without urgency.
“What happened?” asked Plum.
“I was sleeping and heard a strange sound, and when I woke up, there was a guy in my room,” Jason explained. “He was dressed in all black and wore a mask. I yelled and then threw a pillow at him, and he ran off.”
“What did he look like?” asked Plum.
Jason gave her an angry look. “Like I said, he had a mask on.”
“Right, right, but was he tall? Short? Fat? Thin?”
“Average, I guess. I was half-asleep; the shades were drawn. It was hard to tell.”
“What do you think he was after?” asked Plum.
“What do you think he was after?” asked Jason.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I don’t either.”
Deepak tried to be more diplomatic. “The point is, Plum, that we don’t feel safe here anymore. Last night they told us Nick was murdered, and then hours later, someone breaks into our house. We need to return home.”
“We are sitting ducks here. Someone wants us dead!” Jason wagged a finger in her face. “You better get us out or find us another place to stay. Our contract states that you would guarantee our safety. We have a deal.”
She couldn’t argue with him. “The hotel and villas are fully booked, but I will see what I can do. And I will find out where that useless police officer was when this man was breaking into the villa!”
Plum stormed down the hallway toward Jason’s bedroom and found Juan Kevin in conversation with Captain Diaz. She couldn’t decide whom she was less enthused to see, and she was particularly piqued that Juan Kevin looked handsome in a baseball cap he had placed on top of his tousled hair.
They both ceased their dialogue and gave her imperturbable looks.
“What’s going on?” asked Plum.
“Someone was in the house, in this bedroom. We don’t know what he was after,” said Juan Kevin.
“That’s unacceptable,” said Plum. “My guests are in danger. Where was the police officer that was supposedly guarding the house?”
“He was on a break,” said Captain Diaz defensively.
“This is amateur hour. You will have more blood on your hands if you don’t protect them,” said Plum.
Captain Diaz’s V-shaped eyebrows rose to his scalp. “You must move them to a different residence.”
“I’m working on it,” said Plum. She turned to Juan Kevin and said in her harshest tone, “And what about hotel security? I thought you were in charge of a crackerjack team, and yet there are murders and break-ins.”
Juan Kevin took a deep breath and looked about to explode at her, but after a pause he said evenly, “You are right. We have failed.”
Surprised by his easy acceptance of responsibility, she returned her attention to Captain Diaz. “When can my guests go home?” she asked accusatorily (conveniently ignoring that they had been originally detained at her urging).
“It is still unclear,” announced Captain Diaz.
Plum glanced around the bedroom. “Do we know if the intruder took anything?”
“Jason and Deepak said everything of theirs is still here,” said Juan Kevin. “But we need you to look through the villa and make sure all of the furnishings are here.”
“Fine.”
Plum did a sweep of the house and found everything intact. If the intruder wasn’t stealing anything, maybe he really was there to murder Jason and Deepak? And yet, if he was, why didn’t he? Jason’s only defense had been a pillow. If the intruder had a gun, Jason would be toast by now.
Plum reported back to Juan Kevin and Captain Diaz that nothing was amiss. She then called Lucia on her cell and demanded she move hell and high water to find new accommodations for the bachelor party. Lucia said she would work on it.
Jason and Deepak were still slumped in their seats where she had found them earlier. Plum sat across from them.
“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m going to find you another place to stay until you’re clear to go.”
Jason groaned.
“Listen, it’s the best I can do,” she snapped, thinking of how ungrateful they were. At the very least, they should be thankful for her efforts. It wasn’t like it was her responsibility, she thought, forgetting that it was her responsibility. “But you need to tell me what’s going on. I got the impression you may know who claimed to be Nicholas Macpherson and took the key.”
Juan Kevin approached. “It would be very helpful if you were candid,” he coaxed.
Both men shifted, and finally Deepak spoke. “We thought maybe it was a prank. You know, Nick was always playing tricks on someone, he had schemes, and he told us the night he died that he had some big prank up his sleeve.”
“But why would this be a funny prank? To have some impersonator get the keys?” asked Plum.
Jason crossed his arms like a pouting child while Deepak sighed deeply, letting out a stream of air.
“Nick…look, we loved him, but he was the sort of guy who would do bad things to get out of responsibilities,” said Deepak. “Like, he would go to a fancy restaurant and order the most expensive meal then slip a dead cockroach in the last course so he wouldn’t have to pay. Once, he put a used condom under the bed of his hotel in Miami and told them that housekeeping didn’t clean before he checked in, so they would comp the room. He did stuff like that.”
“Very immature.”
“In retrospect, but when were young, it was funny.”
“You think he may have sent in some fake guy to pretend to be him as part of some sort of devious plan to evade payment?” demanded Plum.
“It seems elaborate, but it was the sort of thing Nick did,” admitted Jason.
“And do you think this is the same person who was in your bedroom?” Juan Kevin asked the men.
“That I can’t say,” said Jason.
“No idea,” confirmed Deepak. “But why would he come here?”
Juan Kevin shook his head. “Who do you think killed your friend?”
“Everyone keeps asking, and we don’t know,” whined Deepak.
“We talked to a woman who was at the bar with Nick. A very attractive woman,” Plum said pointedly, giving Juan Kevin a snarky look. He purposely didn’t return her gaze. “She said you were both angry at Nick. And that Nick said he didn’t like your fiancée and was pulling a prank to break you up.”
The vein in Jason’s temple pulsed. “That’s not true at all.”
“Maybe it was a prank?”
“I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all. Nick could be a jerk, but he wouldn’t destroy my relationship with Kirstie.”
“What if he did? Would you be angry enough to kill him?” she asked.
“What
is this?” asked Jason, standing up. “If you are going to accuse me, I want my lawyer. This is outrageous!”
Jason stomped off. Deepak remained. Plum turned to him and said in a gentler voice, “Did Nick like Kirstie?”
He paused. “No one likes Kirstie. She’s high-maintenance.”
Plum immediately became defensive. “That doesn’t mean she’s not a wonderful person. What is it with you men? A strong woman is high-maintenance?”
Deepak put his hands up as if to surrender. “Do you even know her?”
“No. But I don’t like that description. It is so derogatory. No one says it about a man.”
Juan Kevin intervened before Plum pursued this line of conversation. “Why would Nick tell these women at the bar that he wanted to break up Jason and his fiancée?”
“I don’t know; I’m not sure I buy it. But like I said, we weren’t hanging out with him at the bar. We were with our friends.”
“Your friends?” asked Plum. And then she remembered that Deepak had mentioned they had run into friends at the bar. “Oh, right, can you give me their names again? I’d like to talk to them.”
Chapter 12
Juan Kevin caught up with Plum as she stood at the end of the driveway.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Why do you care?”
“Plum, let’s put our differences aside. We need to work together to fix this situation. I’m director of security, as you know, and you have a job to protect. We need to make sure the guests are safe and this is all taken care of. No use quarreling.”
“I don’t think I’m quarreling.”
“I’m sorry we had words last night. Let’s forget it and work together.”
“What about my negative commentary? My harsh and critical ways?”
He sighed, clearly making an effort to control his temper. “Our styles are very different. I will try and respect your way of doing things if you are sensitive to the traditions and ways of business in Paraiso.”
“I don’t know if I am capable of changing,” said Plum, folding her arms defiantly.
“That’s probably true. But I ask that you try so we can find out who murdered Nicholas Macpherson and who broke into Casa Mango last night. I think together we could figure it out.”
Plum was about to say, “What would Carmen think about that?” but bit her tongue. It was strange that, for someone who wasn’t really the jealous type, she was certainly having twinges of it in regard to Juan Kevin. What was it about him?
“Okay, fine. I’m leaving this godforsaken place soon, anyway.”
“I hope it’s not because of what I said.”
She snorted. “No. Because I have better opportunities on the horizon.”
“I see.”
“But for now, we can have peace,” she said, holding out her pale hand. Juan Kevin shook it.
“Peace.”
“I’m going to try and find Lila Donovan and AJ Thompson, the friends Jason and Deepak were drinking with. Maybe they can tell us what was really going on between the guys.”
“I thought as much. Let me give you a ride.”
“I have my cart.”
Juan Kevin gave it a sidelong glance. “It will take you an hour to get to the hotel. In my car, it’s five minutes.”
She was dismayed that her loaner was even worse than her original cart and didn’t exceed fifteen miles an hour. “Fine,” she finally conceded.
Before they set off, a blue sports car came tearing down the road and flung itself into the neighboring driveway. Through the bushes they saw a young woman with perfectly coiffed, long blond hair slam her car door and walk toward her house. She wore very tight pants and high heels. The woman disappeared into her villa.
“The neighbor’s back. Let’s go talk to her,” said Juan Kevin. “Maybe she knows something.”
Plum hesitated, not sure she wanted all this time together with Juan Kevin, but then acquiesced. She would be completely formal and professional from now on. In the past, she could have won a gold medal at keeping colleagues at arm’s length. Why should that change now? “Okay,” she capitulated.
They walked down the driveway of Casa Mango then up the neighboring footpath, winding through a manicured grove of hibiscus and coconut trees. Like Casa Mango, the house was white stucco with a red, Spanish-style tiled roof, ornate archways, and a massive mahogany front door. Clusters of flowers thronged the villa, and the lawn was a vivid shade of green. There was a small sign that identified the house as Casa Avocado. They rang the doorbell, and a low gong sounded.
The woman opened the door, and Plum almost recoiled in shock. From a distance, the woman had appeared young—especially with the long blond hair and skimpy outfit. But they found themselves staring into the visage of someone in her sixties who had undoubtedly indulged in extensive face work. The skin on her forehead was peeled back so tightly and filled with so much collagen and Botox that her expression appeared to permanently be one of alarm or surprise. Plum had no problem with people who wanted to look younger, but it was jarring when she expected youth and was met with something else entirely.
“Yes?” said the woman in a Southern accent. She had on a purple shirt that had small, lavender tassels hanging off the edges and elaborate embroidered stitching along the neckline.
“I am sorry to disturb you, Miss, but I am Juan Kevin Muñoz, the director of security, and this is Miss Plum Lockhart, who manages Casa Mango.”
“Well, hello there. I’m Leslie Abernathy.”
Plum and Juan Kevin exchanged surprised looks.
“You’re Leslie? Carmen Rijo’s friend?” asked an astonished Plum.
“Why, yes, she’s a doll.”
What were the chances that Leslie, who spent time with Nicholas Macpherson at the bar, lived next door to him? Neither Plum and Juan Kevin could believe it was a coincidence.
“How do you know her?” asked Plum.
“I met her through her late husband, Emilio. My former husband played polo with him.”
“Small world,” said Plum.
“Las Frutas is a very small world,” confirmed Leslie.
“We were wondering if we could have a word with you about the recent…activities next door,” said Juan Kevin.
“I already talked to the police, but why don’t y’all come on in, and I can fill you in on anything I know.”
“That would be great,” Plum said.
They followed her through a vaulted-ceiling living room that was a cacophony of colors and textiles then outside to the pool area. Their hostess evidently took great pride in her garden, which was redolent with every variety of flower and bush possible and tended with assiduous care. Patches of soil were colonized with a profusion of rich purple and pink blossoms. There were urns and clay pots bursting with gigantic-leafed greenery. A small stone fountain was spitting water out of the carved lion’s head.
“Beautiful house,” said Plum. “How long have you lived here?”
“Why, about ten years. I’m from Dallas but spend half my time here. Hard to beat the weather, and I just love the sun. I’ll follow it anywhere. ’Course, I know it’s bad for you and all, but nothing better than a gal with a tan. I don’t care about wrinkles; I’ll worry about them when I’m dead!”
Plum’s eyes inadvertently slid down Leslie’s sun-damaged body that was the color of leather. She thought the crypt was not far away for poor Leslie.
“Can I get y’all something to drink? Maybe some sweet tea or a lemonade?”
“That’s okay, thank you, Mrs. Abernathy,” said Juan Kevin.
“We don’t want to inconvenience you,” said Plum.
“It’s no trouble at all. Why don’t y’all sit down?”
She motioned to the chairs and table under a heavily vined, trellised area. An unfinished game of solitaire was left
abandoned next to an ashtray filled with lipstick-smeared cigarette butts on the glass table. Despite their refusal of refreshments, Leslie rang a little bell, and a maid appeared. Leslie introduced her as Nina and gave her a drink order.
“Mrs. Abernathy,” began Juan Kevin.
“Please, call me Leslie. I was Leslie longer than I was Mrs. Abernathy.”
“Leslie. Obviously, you have been informed that Nicholas Macpherson has…died. Possible murder.”
“Probable murder,” corrected Plum.
“Yes, I know,” said Leslie. “The police confirmed it when they came by, but I heard that morning from Nina, who is friends with Lourdes, the gal that works over there. When Lourdes found the body, she came running over here for help. I woke up a few hours later. Nina assumed I’d heard her friend’s screams, but I sleep with a white noise machine, and not even fireworks could wake me. There’s a damn woodpecker going to town on the tree by my window that likes to work at all hours.”
Plum thought the woman might have winked at her, but with the frozen face, it was difficult to tell.
“Yes, we do have our share of woodpeckers,” said Juan Kevin. “Interesting fact: on Paraiso they only attack the south side of the trees. I’m not sure why.”
“Really? How fascinating,” said Leslie.
“How did you end up meeting Nick?” asked Plum.
“I was at the beach bar with Carmen. I wanted her to have a fun evening because she has not been treated very nicely by the gang on the island.”
“I agree,” said Juan Kevin quickly, and Plum glowered.
“She is too young and too gorgeous to stay at home all the time, so this week I said I would not take no for an answer! I have a group of lady friends down here, and we try to get together on Friday nights. We search for drinks and men. Piñas and Penises, we call it. Good old-fashioned fun. Sometimes not old-fashioned, and that’s even more fun! Sorry, I think I made you blush!”
“No…” protested Juan Kevin.
“I’m allowed. I’m divorced. Three times. I always say I married well but divorced better!” She turned to Juan Kevin. “Are you married?”