by Carrie Doyle
Plum sat down in Jonathan’s recently vacated seat and stared at her interrogator. He opened up a notebook and glanced down at his scribbles.
“Señorita Lockhart, it has come to my attention that you were very eager to rent Casa Mango to this particular party. In fact, you defied your boss’s direct orders that you not rent to them.”
Plum shifted in her seat. No doubt Damián was behind this new line of questioning. The little turd.
“It’s true. But it’s because I couldn’t find anyone else to rent it, and there was a bit of a ticking clock.”
“But there is a wait list this weekend,” said Captain Diaz. “It is very hard to find anything to rent. Are you sure no one else inquired about renting Casa Mango but you were set on this bachelor party?”
“Absolutely not. They were the only interested people. I don’t know why,” said Plum. She agreed it was strange. Why had no one else tried to rent it if there was such demand for lodging on the island?
“I see,” he said, smiling his reptilian smile and writing something down.
“I can show you my emails,” offered Plum, irritated that he didn’t believe her.
“Later.” He stared at her as if studying every pore on her face. “Are you sure you did not know this Nicholas Macpherson?”
“No. I never met him.”
“That is interesting, because we discovered that you lived on the same street in New York City.”
Captain Diaz pulled a Google map printout from his notebook and slid it across the table toward Plum. She glanced down at it. Her apartment building was circled, as was Nicholas Macpherson’s. She squinted and then started to laugh.
“Are you serious?”
“I am very serious.”
“Okay, yes, it looks like Nicholas and I lived on the same street. Third Avenue. But you clearly haven’t been to New York. My apartment building was near East Eighty-Eighth Street. Nicholas lived near Ninth Street. That’s four miles, but in New York, it may as well be four hundred miles. Totally different neighborhoods in a city of eight million people. We probably never crossed paths.”
If Captain Diaz was disappointed in this revelation, his face didn’t show it. In fact, he appeared almost defiant. “It is of note.”
“Honestly, it isn’t. I didn’t know the guy.”
He gave her a look of disbelief. Plum had to keep her irritation in check. She glanced out the window at the golfers putting on the green and took a deep breath. If those people could appear laissez-faire trying to place a tiny ball in a tiny hole, then there was no reason she couldn’t relax. It was important to maintain calm at times like this.
“I want to warn you, señorita, that we are looking at you very carefully. We know you insisted on overseeing all of the renovation of Casa Mango yourself. That is very suspicious.”
“Suspicious? It’s called being thorough. I wanted the house to be done and in top shape before we rented it. I suppose in Paraiso it’s suspicious because you all like to have things done mañana!”
He acted as if he didn’t hear her. “Witnesses have you monitoring the plantings, the pool finishing, the painting. You have wired the house extensively with alarms. You added furniture…”
Something sparked in Plum’s mind. She shot upright. “What did you say?”
He stared at her. “Is this a game? You heard what I said.”
“No, I mean about wiring the house extensively with alarms.”
“Yes, the alarms.”
“Which alarms?”
“The fire alarms.”
“I didn’t add any alarms. They were there.”
He looked confused. “Yes, I know.”
“Then why do you say I wired the house extensively?” she asked, exasperated.
“It is not I who said that, it is witnesses.”
“Right,” answered Plum. “Who?”
He glanced at his notebook. “Witnesses.”
It was useless to engage with Captain Diaz, but Plum was reminded of something that had been nagging at the back of her mind, something Lila reminded her of today. Alarms. Juan Kevin had said there were two fire alarms in each room, but when Plum did a last look at Casa Mango before the bachelor party arrived, there was only one alarm in each room. Had Juan Kevin been wrong? Or had someone put something in the bedrooms?
“Okay, Captain Diaz, I get it. You think my actions are suspicious. So, what next? Are you going to charge me with something? Or can I get back to work?”
He appeared surprised that she was not more intimidated by him. “I have a few more questions.”
He fired a few more inane queries in her direction, which she answered flatly.
“When will you wrap this up?” she asked.
“When we are finished,” said Captain Diaz. “Hopefully mañana.”
Once he said she was free to go, she scurried out of Jonathan’s office. Damián was not there, but Jonathan stood holding a cup of tea, talking in a hushed tone to Lucia.
“I have to run,” Plum said.
“Wait a minute, we need to talk,” said Jonathan crossly.
“It is urgent, Jonathan. I’ll be back later.”
“What about the article? Where are we on that?”
“That’s why I’m running out!” fibbed Plum. “Lucia, can I borrow your car? I left my cart at Casa Mango. I’ll be back soon.”
She left without awaiting an answer.
***
Plum tucked herself into Lucia’s car and was pleasantly reminded of how comfortable it was to drive a real automobile. She decided she needed to lease a similar four-door sedan for herself. Having a proper car was the first step to restoring her dignity.
She glanced at her face in the rearview mirror and was alarmed at how sunburnt she was. She would have to smear some aloe on as soon as possible or else she would continue frying through the night. But she didn’t have time to worry about that now.
The trip to Casa Mango was made slower by the fact that she was caught behind a caravan of senior citizens in golf carts unhurriedly proceeding as if they were in a funeral procession and knew the guest of honor would still be dead when they made it to the cemetery. It took all of Plum’s restraint not to honk her horn. Instead she switched on the radio and was amazed when rap music came on. Was this what Lucia listened to? Just goes to show you that you never know people’s predilections, Plum thought.
Lourdes the maid answered the door of Casa Mango and informed Plum that Jason and Deepak were by the pool. Perfect, thought Plum. She was not ready to talk to them. She moved down the hall and entered Jason’s room. Her eyes scanned the walls and ceiling. Juan Kevin was right: there were two fire alarms. Plum was certain there had been only one when she signed off on the house. In fact, Plum had spent a lot of time in this bedroom with the painter and handyman, coordinating a plan to fix the plaster and the fixtures. Her limited knowledge of Spanish and their limited knowledge of English had protracted the discussion, but the outcome was that she was quite familiar with how the room was arranged. The original fire alarm was in the corner by the window. But the second one was fixed above the bed.
Plum stepped up onto Jason’s bed, her feet smashing down the comforter. The ceiling was low enough and she was tall enough that once she was up there, she had to slouch and crane her neck in an effort to examine the second alarm. Sometimes it was a real pain being so tall. On closer inspection, Plum deciphered that it was not an alarm at all. She peeled it off the ceiling and lowered herself off the bed to get a closer look.
It looked like a recording device. A spy camera like the ones in banner advertisements on social media. Who put it there? The impostor? She turned it around in her hands but gathered it was streaming somewhere. Someone was probably watching her right now. It gave her chills.
Plum went into Nick’s room and glanced around. There was still
only one fire alarm. Ditto with Deepak’s room, although when she put the flashlight on her phone and scanned the ceiling, she could make out a faint mark above the bed where a device could possibly have been placed and then removed. She performed a quick survey of the house but didn’t find any more devices. However, Juan Kevin had said she had two fire alarms per room. She tried to call him from her cell, but there was no answer. She recalled that he said he would be in a staff meeting for the rest of the day. She walked outside and found Jason and Deepak sitting gloomily on chaises. They looked up at her eagerly.
“Any update?” asked Jason. “Did you find us a place to stay? We want to get out of here; this place gives us the creeps.”
“Yes,” said Plum. “We booked you two rooms at the hotel. Ready by five. Here is the information.”
“Finally,” said Jason, snatching the piece of paper.
Plum thought he could show a little more gratitude.
“Let me ask you, do either of you know what this is?”
They both glanced at the device and shook their heads. “No, why?” asked Deepak.
“I found it above your bed, Jason.”
“My bed? Let me see it.”
She handed it to him. He examined it. “This is a camera. Do you mean someone was recording me?”
“It looks like it.”
“Who?” exploded Jason.
“I’ve no idea,” said Plum. She turned to Deepak. “Did you see one in your room?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Deepak, do you think the person who was in Jason’s room the other night had been in your room first? Could you have possibly slept through someone coming into your room?”
Deepak sighed. “Honestly, it’s possible. I probably passed out. I had a lot to drink.”
“I don’t feel safe anymore. I’m packing up and going to those hotel rooms now,” Jason roared. He shot out of the chaise and stormed into the house. Deepak rose as well.
“We’re losing it,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Plum responded.
On her way out, Plum stopped by the kitchen to have a word with Lourdes. She had not asked the maid what she knew about the bachelors and also wanted information on the lady of the house next door. Often staff members knew the most secrets, at least according to British mysteries, and it was a matter of carefully siphoning the salacious tidbits out of them.
Lourdes was extremely short, with a cherubic face and dark hair that she wore pulled back in a bun. She worked diligently and quietly and had worked for the Swiss owner of Casa Mango for years. She came highly recommended. Plum found her in the kitchen wiping down the stovetop. She had removed all the burners and was cleaning invisible grease spots with a rag.
“Lourdes, can I take a few minutes of your time?” asked Plum gently.
“Sí, is everything okay?”
“It is. Why don’t you and I sit down for a minute?”
Lourdes looked worried and quickly sat across from Plum. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and stared at Plum with nervous apprehension. Plum addressed her in a low voice in case Jason and Deepak finished packing early and wandered into the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to find out if there was anything you could tell me about the men who were staying here. Did you hear them fighting at all?”
“No,” said Lourdes, shaking her head.
“Are you sure? No one seemed angry or anything?”
“No,” said Lourdes. “I try not to listen. I want to do my work and not bother them. I know they are on vacation.”
“Right, well, yes,” said Plum. It was the correct answer, but she was disappointed. How she yearned for Lourdes to tell her she saw either Jason or Deepak bash Nick’s head in. And if not them then whoever did it. “Tell me about Leslie Abernathy. Your friend Nina works for her?”
“Sí,” said Lourdes.
“For how long?”
“I think maybe six years? I’m not sure. She’s worked there for a long time.”
“And what does she think about Leslie Abernathy?”
“Señora Abernathy? She’s very nice. Nina likes working there very much.”
“But did she ever see anything…I don’t know, untoward happening there?”
“I’m sorry?” asked Lourdes, confused.
“I mean, did Nina say that maybe Leslie Abernathy becomes enraged or jealous and, I don’t know, she thinks Leslie will kill someone?”
Lourdes shook her head. “No, she never said that.”
“Does Leslie have fits of anger?”
“No,” said Lourdes.
Plum was impressed with Lourdes and Nina’s discretion but also irked at the same time. She needed a scheming and disgruntled employee in order to advance her investigation. Lourdes and Nina didn’t appear to be that.
“Is there anything you can think of that might be useful?” asked Plum.
Lourdes stared at her blankly but then spoke. “I’m sorry. You are hoping to find out something about the man who was murdered?”
“Yes,” said Plum.
“I can tell you only this. Nina said that when she told Señora Abernathy that the man was dead, she said she…it was not happy, the word. But that he…that he deserves to die because he did not like her.”
Plum’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What do you mean, ‘like her’?”
“I think she meant, you know, he did not choose her for romance.”
“I see.”
Lourdes became even more anxious. “I probably should not have said that. It is not…professional. I’m sorry.”
“No, please don’t be sorry. This is a murder investigation, and we need to know everyone we are dealing with. Everyone is a suspect.”
“You think Señora Abernathy killed the man? I do not think she would.”
“I hope not. But you never know.”
Lourdes made the sign of the cross.
Chapter 15
Plum drove back to the office to pick up Lucia, then they both returned to Casa Mango so Plum could retrieve her loaner golf cart from the driveway and Lucia could bring the men to their hotel rooms. At the office, Lucia had nicely proffered her a bottle of aloe. Plum had heard Jonathan in his office and did not want to interact with him, so she quickly absconded to the bathroom to smear aloe all over. It felt soothing, although now when she looked in a mirror, she was tinted green.
On the ride over to the villa, Plum told Lucia about finding the camera devices. Lucia thought she should immediately report the information to the police, but Plum thought that would be ineffectual.
“Captain Diaz is a moron,” said Plum dismissively.
“But he is the law,” Lucia said firmly.
“I’ll ask Juan Kevin, see what he thinks.”
“You need to be careful. If that man broke in to get the device, he may do it again. He is probably watching the villa.”
“True,” agreed Plum.
“That reminds me of something…”
“What?”
Lucia paused, her mind casting around for a memory. “Maybe it was nothing, but the other night when I left work, there was a man across the street. He was staring at our office but quickly looked away when I came out. I thought he was waiting for someone, but maybe he was watching us. When I drove off, I saw him in my rearview mirror, and he had crossed the street and was closer to our office.”
“That’s odd.”
“Yes. I don’t know, he could have been going to meet Jonathan, but now that I think about the spy devices, maybe he was involved?”
“We need to find this guy.”
The idea that this impostor/voyeur was around didn’t unnerve Plum until she stood in the driveway after Lucia had driven away with Jason and Deepak. Jason had practically slammed his car do
or in her face without even a thank-you. The police officer that was “standing guard” left as well, presumably escorting them to the hotel. When everyone had departed, she felt the deathly silence from the absence of people at the villa, and it scared her.
Was the intruder lying in wait in the bushes? She scanned the front yard and neighboring villas for signs of life. The faintest of breezes ruffled the palm trees. A lizard skittered down the pebbled path. Children were shrieking and splashing in a pool across the road. Everything appeared normal. But Plum’s heart was beating strongly, as if it sensed something. Peril was lying in wait.
***
Las Frutas boasted two golf courses that spread their green tentacles across the resort. One was a more modest links course, which was not inspiring enough to have a name and was merely referred to as the links. La Cereza was the crown jewel and was considered one of the premiere golf courses in the Caribbean. It had been carved from the jagged earth along the pristine, azure sea. Eight holes hugged the sea and afforded spectacular views, dramatic slopes, and undulating greens. The front four holes slinked around the La Cereza (Cherry) River, for which the course was named. When Plum was at the helm of Travel and Respite Magazine, they named it one of the top twenty courses in the Caribbean.
Both courses shared a thatched-roof golf shop. Plum drove up at five o’clock and found Juan Kevin outside talking to Tony Spira, the golf pro she could identify from Nick’s Instagram picture. She had wanted to show Juan Kevin the spy camera but thought it best to wait until after they had chatted with the pro.
Introductions were made, and they decided to convene in the hitting shed, which appeared less busy than the shop area. Golfers were streaming in from their rounds, and caddies were unloading carts and hoisting bags into lockers and cars. They meandered by the driving range, and Plum was surprised to see a small boy who could not have been more than eight years old hit a long drive. Her competitive juices kicked in, and she thought perhaps she could take up golf. How hard could it be if infants played? She had tried it once when she was on a press junket in Scotland, but the weather was so cold and dreary, she had been less than enthusiastic. Golf in a tropical climate was more her speed. Plus, the outfits were chicer.