“Yes.”
“I noticed your careful wording. Nothing like, ‘for information leading to the arrest of the kidnappers’ stuff. I’m assuming grandpa is majorly pissed and wants a piece of them.”
“That’s my guess.”
“You’re not mad that I didn’t track down whoever was spreading marked bills around here?”
“So few showed up. Less than two hundred of them, each one spent in small stores by children or their parents and then eventually deposited in local banks by merchants. Some might be still floating around, but no activity lately.”
Good. Roberto and Sascha are playing it cool.
On one hand, I wanted them to get that restaurant and new life in Puerto Vallarta, but once that money started showing up in PV, it was only a matter of time until their grandfather’s investigators put two and two together. I’d like to be a fly on the wall when he found out his grandson and grandniece had pulled a fast one on him.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“You have time on your hands and inside information to work with, so why not? We all know how you like money.”
“I’ll think about it. I’m sick of this case.”
“You have forgotten the kidnappers tried to kill you?”
“No. Is that what’s got grandpa’s knickers in a twist? That the jerks came after his granddaughter after he’d held up his end of the bargain and paid the ransom?”
“Perhaps. And there was the ear thing.”
“What’s in it for you if I solve the case?”
He grabbed his heart. “You wound me, Café. My motives are pure. I only want justice for that poor girl.”
“Yeah, right.”
Nacho talked me into staying for dinner, and afterward I took Po Thang for a short walk and then returned to my boat.
My empty boat.
I watched a movie to kill time, but it was still too early to go to bed.
Moving out on the aft deck, I had a drink.
Still restless, I cleaned out the fridge, tossing away leftovers way past their expiration date, even for my four-footed garbage disposal unit.
That task finished, I figured I’d earned a glass of wine.
Back out on the aft deck, I made it two.
Checking the clock, I decided it was permissible to go to bed and read.
On the way to my cabin, I stopped at my desk to read my email and Facebook. After sharing a post or two of cute puppies, I shut down the computer and stood to grab my Kindle when I knocked over a fat folder marked, “Juanita.”
Picking up my charts, timelines, and printouts, I was drawn, like a moth to the flame, right back into the details.
Oh, okay, that fifty grand reward had something to do with it.
It was two a.m. when I said to Po Thang, “Take a look at this.” I pointed to the picture of Juanita’s torn ear that I’d magnified. “What do you see?”
He opened one eye, saw there was no food involved, and went back to sleep.
“Useless hound. It’s times like this when I really miss Jan.”
Knowing full well Jan wouldn’t answer her phone at that time of night, I settled back to continue reviewing everything I had on Juanita’s kidnapping. As Jan and I realized during our earlier searches, there were so many details we didn’t know.
Zooming out from the bloody earring photo that accompanied the ransom note, something caught my attention I’d never noticed before. We’d hacked Nacho’s computer, so we had the email attachment with what was probably a cellphone photo of the original email. Not the best situation, but having my new large screen helped.
Little by little, I zeroed in on the area around the earring, and I realized what we had assumed was a smear or shadow on the plate wasn’t.
It was mid-morning in Cannes, so I picked up the phone and made a call, then paced until I received a reply. After I hung up, I did a little victory jig, turned on the stereo system, selected “I’m So Excited” by the Pointer Sisters, and danced around the cabin.
Finally roused from his beauty rest by my antics, Po Thang quickly threw off the bonds of Morpheus and joined me in my dance routine.
After thirty minutes of boogie-woogie, celebrating, and then downing a split of champagne direct from the bottle, I dropped onto the settee, where Po Thang joined me, even though he was normally banned from couches. I cuddled up to him, whispered, “We’re in the money, honey,” and fell into a self-satisfied sleep.
Chapter Thirty-seven
My dream of getting that fifty-thousand into my bank account took a dive right after I woke up and reality set in. I was a loooong way from cashing in on my suspicions. Now I was pretty sure I knew who was involved in Juanita’s kidnapping, but there were major holes in my theory. As in, about a million unanswered questions.
Which called for brain food: breakfast enchiladas, refrieds, and tortillas.
While Po Thang and I waited for our breakfast at the Dock Café, I called Rhonda to make certain she was home, and alone, before I visited her at the condo. I wasn’t positive she and Cholo were, as they say in Texas, shacking up, but I still didn’t feel comfortable sharing any information with her that might get back to Team Nacho regarding my investigation into Juanita’s kidnapping. Especially now that I was hot on the trail to fifty large.
While Rhonda fetched me a cup of coffee from her kitchen, I surveyed the place for signs of Cholo, but nothing was obvious, so I took the direct approach.
“So, Rhonda, how’s it going with you and Cholo?”
She lit up. “He’s just the most amazing person, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I guess so. For such a young man.”
If she took that as a dig, she didn’t show it. “He’s not as young as he looks, you know. I think. We haven’t discussed it, but he did mention he can retire with full pay in ten years.”
“Full pay here can’t be that much, but he can get another job and be pretty well set. Well, for Mexico.”
Note to self: Check retirement requirement in the Mexican Military. Is Rhonda now part of his retirement plans?
I decided to get to why I was really paying her this visit. “So, have you seen Roberto or Sascha lately?” She now knew that the kissin’ cousins shared a little love nest in her building, but since she was distracted by Cholo, she didn’t seem to mind much.
“I’ve spotted her twice. She wears a wig, scarf and oversized sunglasses when she leaves the building, and Roberto actually stopped by here one morning to say hello, but I think he was really feeling me out to see if I was going to rat on him and Sascha.”
“Who to?”
“Cholo?”
“It’s only a matter of time until those two run into each other here, right?”
“I don’t see Cholo all that often, and it’s usually during working hours for Roberto.
“And Sascha? When does she leave?”
“The two times I’ve seen her, it was around noonish, I think. Why?”
“Just being nosy.”
We talked about how the sale of her mom’s house was going, furniture she was shopping for, and an impending visit she planned with Jan and Chino at the whale camp. She’d put her boat search on a back burner.
I glanced at her clock and saw it was just before noon, so I left and snagged a table at a small café on the quay in front of the condos. From there I had a good view of the entry gate.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to take Po Thang to the boat, so when I saw the bewigged Sascha leave, I couldn’t take a chance on following her.
The next day, however, I was back at that same table, without Agent Dawg, to engage in a little stalking. I picked my spot carefully, because the day before I noticed she scanned around her before she took off at a fast clip.
I was finishing my coffee when, through the plant I was seated behind, I watched as Roberto came out through the condo gate and headed towards town, and most likely El Molokan. Ten minutes later, Sascha, disguised like the day before, also left.
&n
bsp; Luckily the malecon is a busy place between twelve and two, so I was able to lag a block and a half behind her with no danger of being spotted. Once the shops shut down at two for their two-hour siesta, that hustle and bustle along the waterfront walkway comes to a halt.
Unfortunately, Sascha veered off the malecon and started taking small side streets, winding her way toward the center of town, so I had to catch up or lose sight of her.
When she took a sharp right through a gate and turned to close it behind her, I ducked behind a delivery truck. After I heard the gate clang shut, I dared to sneak a peek. I was debating whether to hang around or return to the boat when a window opened on the second floor, Juanita leaned out, Sascha threw her a kiss, and I heard a buzzer.
What was Juanita doing in La Paz? I could have sworn Nacho mentioned she’d gone to the States as soon as they returned from Cannes. Curiouser and curiouser.
On the way back to the boat, I turned over in my mind what I knew for certain versus what I thought I knew and realized I needed help.
I called my numero uno sounding board.
“What’s the haps?” Jan asked when she answered her phone.
“Can you come back down here? We need to put our heads together, and just maybe figure something important out.”
“No can do. Too busy up here. Whales everywhere.”
“Big bucks can be had.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow.”
Since Jan was coming, I changed the linens and cleaned up her room, then dropped off laundry at the wash, dry, and fold service at the marina, and by then it was time for a sandwich and an early bed in anticipation of some serious snoopery.
I rose early, took Po Thang for his walk, then decided to make a grocery run for goodies. I knew she was probably already fed up with fish at the camp, so I got steaks, hamburger, and the makings for chicken Alfredo.
After unloading the dock cart onto the deck, I climbed aboard, slid the door open and braced myself for a furry onrush, but Po Thang wasn’t in the main cabin.
“Hey, you bum, wake up! I bought you some chicken.”
I heard him whine and my heart stuttered. Thinking he’d hurt himself somehow, I followed the noise to my master cabin. The door was open, but I didn’t see him until I stepped down into the room.
He wasn’t alone.
Roberto held his leash, and Sascha and Juanita stood on either side of him.
“Hey, everyone. Family reunion?”
“Very funny,” Sascha said. “Get this boat ready to leave. And don’t do anything stupid.” She waved a huge kitchen knife in Po Thang’s direction, and he, thinking it a game, lunged for it. Roberto, thank goodness, jerked him back.
“Sascha, be careful!” he scolded in Spanish, then looked sheepish and added, in English. “I mean, if you kill him, she won’t do what we say. He is our insurance, right Hetta?”
Sascha looked as though she was going to light into Roberto for criticizing her, then shrugged. “Yes, I guess we do need him. For now. Hetta, do what we say or I start removing his body parts. Understand?”
“Yes. Where do you want to go in my boat? I didn’t fill my fuel tanks before I left for France. I’m low on diesel,” I lied.
Sascha looked at Roberto and asked if that was a problem. He said he wasn’t certain. All three of them started arguing at once. Their Spanish was so rapid I really couldn’t figure out what they were saying, but certain words jumped out: cuerpo (body), ancla (anchor), pinche pendejo (effing a-hole). I had to agree with the last one, because they attached it to Nacho.
My translation: We have to sink the bodies unless we want Nacho on our tails.
Juanita called the bickering to a halt by asking me a question. “We’ll discuss this matter soon, but first I want to know how Hetta figured out the kidnapping was a hoax.” They all turned to look at me.
“I didn’t.”
“What? Then why did you follow Sascha to my apartment?”
“Your grandfather has offered a large reward to anyone who can identify the kidnappers, and I only knew that Sascha was somehow involved.”
“How did you know that?” Juanita demanded. For a teenager she had all the makings of a first-class bitch.
“The photo with that bloody earring on a white plate. It was barely visible, but when I enhanced the picture I noticed a design on the china and recognized it as the corner of the hotel owner’s family crest.”
“You know the owner?”
“Yes. The Baronnesse de Montesquieu is a close friend.” My pants were warming up, threatening to burst into flame, but I was stalling on my feet, maybe getting them riled with each other so I could take advantage of the diversion.
It was working; Juanita glared at Sascha. “Very careless, cousin.”
I threw more fuel on the kindling. “The baronnesse checked out a few things for me and guess what? The house doctor had treated a young lady for an injured ear, which she told him got caught in her hairbrush. He referred her to a plastic surgeon, but in the meanwhile he placed a couple of stitches. If you look closely at that photo, you can see a stitch. Which one of you geniuses came up with the Getty kidnapping angle?”
Both Juanita and Sascha shot disapproving glances at Roberto.
Boy, how would I love to play high-stakes poker with these three.
“You do know that, so far, you have not committed a crime, right? If I were you I’d just take the money and run.”
“If you figured out what we did, someone else might.”
“But they didn’t. I did. And since I wanted that fifty grand for myself, I didn’t tell anyone. And, how about this? You give me the fifty and I’ll keep this among ourselves. No harm, no foul and no one the wiser.”
“Or, we can just tie you and your mutt to an anchor and dump you in with the sharks,” Sascha said with a sneer.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you resemble Vladimir Putin?”
Sascha lashed out so fast she took me by surprise. Her slap was more like a punch that landed on the side of my head, knocking me onto my bed.
Po Thang went nuts.
Lunging again, this time he escaped Roberto’s grasp and went airborne, landing a four-paw plant onto Sascha’s shoulders and back, knocking her on top of me. I appreciated the gesture, but as she fell, I couldn’t help but notice that gargantuan knife coming at me.
Thanks a lot, dawg.
But, like I always say, it’s the thought that counts.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Time slowed.
I watched in horror as that butcher knife arced downward, right for my forehead.
At the last second, I managed to move my head, and Sascha buried the knife deep into my eight-hundred-dollar mattress. Rather than relief, I felt red-hot anger: there was no way I could replace that mattress in Mexico!
She gave up trying to pull the knife out of the foam, and opted to push herself up with the other hand, using my stomach for leverage. For once, I was thankful for my lifelong antipathy for sit-ups, Pilates, and planks. Her hand sank into my jelly-belly, and she rolled sideways onto the bed, landing face up. I heard a loud thunk as her head connected with the corner of my teak built-in bedside table.
Sascha went limp., I scrambled to my knees and grabbed the knife by its hilt with both hands, but was unable to dislodge it. Where is King Arthur when you really need him?
Juanita, seeing what I was up to, latched onto one of my wrists and twisted that arm, grabbing the knife’s hilt in the process. We were arm wrestling when Po Thang, not sure what to think of all this commotion, opted to chomp down on Juanita’s ankle. She screamed and let go of the knife, but Roberto moved in.
He had better luck, and had just pulled it free when Juanita, for some reason, gave him a karate chop to the back of his neck, took the knife from his limp hand, and said, “That’s enough of this crap. Hetta, if that dog makes another move toward me, I’ll bury this thing in his eye, you hear me?”
I took hold of Po Thang’s tail and gave it a
hard yank. He turned and looked at me like, well, like someone had just killed the pet dog.
“Sit and stay!” I commanded.
Roberto was still out, but Sascha was moaning and calling for Juanita. Juanita moved to her, leaned over, said, “It is alright, my love, I have them under control,” and planted a passionate kiss on her lips.
Whoa! I sure hadn’t seen that one coming.
While Juanita guarded me and Po Thang, Sascha threw water in her face, dabbed at the bloody bump, then went topsides and returned with a twenty-foot length of line I keep on deck. “Will this do?”
“I think so. Tie up Roberto while he’s still out, corozan, then let Hetta lash that damned mutt to him.”
“Call me clairvoyant, but am I picking up on a double-cross here, ladies?” I asked.
“Shut up, you pinche puta.”
“Hey, I’ve never charged for sex in my life!”
“What part of shut up don’t you get?” Juanita spat.
“The part that says, ‘Hey, Hetta, why should you take these two Lizzies out to sea so they can dump your ass overboard?’”
That seemed to stump them for a moment. They shared a stare, then Sascha asked, “Lizzies?”
“All girl street gang…before your time.”
Keep ‘em talking, Hetta.
Roberto moaned and moved. “Get him tied up, fast,” Juanita ordered.
“So, how long have you two been planning this little charade? Or maybe I should ask, how long have you love birds been pulling an end run on poor Roberto?”
“None of your stinking business,” Juanita said as she watched Sascha tie Roberto up.
Grannie knots?
Just as Sascha tied the last bow and stepped away from him, his eyes popped open. “Wha…what happened?”
“Your so-called girlfriend karate chopped you. I guess her girlfriend and she have no further use for you. By the way, girls, where’s the money?”
“¡Cállate!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, you keep telling me to shut up, but I am not starting Raymond Johnson until two things happen. You tell me where the money is, and you let my dog off the boat.”
Just Follow the Money Page 22