Evil in All Its Disguises

by Hilary Davidson

  “Apolinar, this is the lovely and immensely talented Lily Moore,” he said. “Lily, I’m pleased to introduce you to Apolinar Muñoz, our head of security.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “I’ve heard so much about you, Lily Moore, all of it charming.” Apolinar’s English was slightly accented, but flawless. He stepped closer and took my hand. As he stared into my eyes with the intensity of a Marlon Brando, I noticed that his own eyes were so dark that the iris almost matched the pupil; the effect was unnerving, as if that inky blackness was swallowing him from inside. “It’s truly a pleasure to meet you.”

  If my heart could’ve galloped out of my chest, it would have made a break for freedom right then. This was the Hotel Cerón’s head of security? Suddenly every paranoid fear I’d had about Skye’s safety seemed justified.

  “You were on the balcony,” I blurted out. “You were there when Skye and I were having drinks.”

  “You were there last night, Apolinar?” Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  Apolinar was unfazed. If I’d hoped for an anxious denial or some show of guilt, I was disappointed. “Yes, I was there,” he said. “For all of, perhaps, ten seconds. I saw the two ladies having drinks while I was making my rounds through the property.” The man’s voice was warm and his delivery was smooth, but Skye’s words reverberated in my head. Listen to me, Lily. You don’t want to know that guy. What did she know about Apolinar Muñoz that would make her issue a warning like that?

  “You’re the head of security at the Hotel Cerón?” I asked, trying to wrap my mind around that fact.

  “For all of Pantheon’s operations in Mexico, actually.” Apolinar’s smile gave a sense of just how pleased he was with this news. He gazed at me, clearly pleased that I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He had an aura of preening smugness, as if he expected the attention.

  “Have you called the police?” I asked.

  “I am the police,” Apolinar stated. He put his hands on his hips, and I saw that he had a gun in a holster at his waist.

  “You’re a security guard. That’s not the same thing.”

  Gavin cleared his throat. “Ah, as it happens, Apolinar is our liaison with the police. He served on the force for several years.” His face was serious. “There’s a rather porous line here between private security and police. I’m afraid that’s simply how things are arranged in this country.”

  “If there truly is a problem, I will make sure this gets the attention it needs,” Apolinar said. “Now, I have been told that you have Skye McDermott’s passport. Is that it in your hand?”

  “Yes.” I glanced at Gavin, because I didn’t want to hand the passport over to Apolinar. Gavin took it from me, opened it and stared wordlessly for a moment, then passed it into Apolinar’s hands.

  “How did this come into your possession, Lily?”

  “Skye left it with me when she left the bar to make a phone call.”

  Apolinar cocked his head. “I am to understand that your friend handed you her passport?”

  “No, she left her bag with me.”

  “And where is the bag?” Apolinar pressed. “I do not see it here.”

  “I left Skye’s bag in her room last night. Denny had someone open the door for me. That was when we saw most of Skye’s things were gone.”

  “Wait, one moment, Lily.” Apolinar’s use of my name was grating on my nerves. It was falsely intimate, as if we were confidantes. “How did the passport make its way out of the bag? Why was it not left in Skye’s room?”

  That was an embarrassing question with no good answer. “I went through her bag when I thought she was missing,” I hoped I wasn’t blushing. “When I found the passport, I put it away so it wouldn’t get lost or stolen. It was much later when I saw Denny and got the idea to put the bag in Skye’s room. I forgot about the passport.”

  “You… forgot?” Apolinar grinned, revealing movie-star quality teeth. It was hard to picture how he’d paid for that on a cop’s salary. Their gleam was particularly striking against his sun-browned skin.

  I didn’t respond, mostly because I didn’t have an answer that wasn’t ridiculous to my own ears. I was also trying to channel the cop trick of the silent stare.

  Gavin broke the silence. “I think Lily has already explained how she got the passport. Are there any real questions you need her to answer?”

  Apolinar sighed. “Well, then, what was your conversation with Skye about?”

  “We were just catching up. I hadn’t seen her in a while.”

  “When I was coming through the door, she was telling you about a story she was writing, wasn’t she?”

  The man must have had ears like a fox. Skye had said, I’m going to write a feature about… just as Apolinar had appeared.

  “Yes, she mentioned she was writing an article.”

  “A feature, she said,” Apolinar corrected me. “What exactly did she say to you about this story?”

  “Nothing. She didn’t tell me the subject.” But she’d said, If anything, you’re the person who could help me with the story. At the time, it hadn’t made sense. Now that I’d seen the guidebooks she was carrying, my mind reeled. Skye had marked several Pantheon hotels in Eastern Europe, and she’d circled some properties in Mexico as well. None of the Mexican ones were Pantheon’s, at least not at the time the book was last updated, more than a year ago. But Skye had noted seven, including the Hotel Cerón, which left me wondering. Had Martin’s company suddenly started locking down hotel real estate in Mexico, and why would that interest Skye? How did the European hotels fit into the picture? Skye had thought I was still in touch with Martin; I’d assumed her interest was personal, but maybe it had to do with her story. In any case, I was in a room with a pair of Pantheon employees, and I was keeping this bit of intelligence under wraps.

  My stubbornness forced them to move on. “Did she mention anyone?” Apolinar prompted.

  The reason for Skye’s interest in Martin wasn’t clear to me anymore. Were they involved, or was she writing about his company? For all I knew, there was some overlap between business and pleasure. I kept my unruly ideas to myself. “She mentioned Pete Dukermann. Skye spent some time with him yesterday.”

  Apolinar looked at Gavin. “I will need to speak with him as well.”

  “Fine.”

  “You are remembering more, aren’t you?” Apolinar said to me. “What else did Skye say to you?”

  I was feeling badgered by him at this point. “I can’t think of anything else.”

  “There is always something else.” Apolinar’s tone brooked no argument.

  “Lily is telling us everything she knows, I’m sure.” Gavin’s statement was conciliatory, but his tone was glacial. His emphasis on the last word announced his annoyance with the clarity of a megaphone.

  “People leave something out. They always do.” Apolinar stared at me. He wasn’t giving up. “What else do you remember?”

  I had the strangest sensation creeping up my spine, as if I were a suspect in Skye’s disappearance. It was patently ridiculous, but it was there, pulling at my skin with all the tenderness of a fishhook. Stop it, I warned myself, but my blood tapped against my skin as if it were rising to a boil.

  “Well, Martin Sklar’s name came up,” I said. “He used to be my fiancé.”

  That piqued Apolinar’s interest. “What about him?”

  “Well, we didn’t discuss sexual positions or anything like that.” I gave him a coy smile. For the first time, Apolinar’s expression was uneasy. Gavin seemed mildly bemused. I decided I’d had enough of their interrogation. “Actually,” I added, “I have a question for you, Apolinar. Why did you come out to the balcony last night?”

  “It is my habit to walk through the hotels I protect. It is a point of pride.”

  “Right, you’re the head of security. So, have you checked out the security tapes from last night?”

  “Tapes?” Apolinar’s blank look made it clear he hadn’t
.

  “The ones from the cameras trained on every door into the hotel. The ones from the cameras in the lobby and in the bar. I didn’t see one on the balcony, but there are quite a few others.” I kept my eyes on Apolinar; I still didn’t understand why Skye had warned me away from the man, but her dislike of him spoke volumes and made me suspicious. “It’s Pantheon’s policy to keep those tapes for a month. No one has actually established whether Skye left the hotel last night. Is she still in the hotel, or did she go somewhere else?”

  Apolinar’s expression shifted as I spoke. Under his controlled demeanor was a ripple of unease coupled with anger. He glanced at Gavin and back at me. “Thank you for your advice on doing my job. Any other suggestions?”

  “I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Apolinar headed for the door, stopping and half-turning back to me as he touched the handle. “Please don’t go too far, Lily. I want you to be available to answer questions. You never know what may come out of this.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “I must apologize, Lily,” Gavin said, after Apolinar marched out. “I had no idea Apolinar would be so rude. He clearly needs to learn his place.”

  “I just hope he finds Skye.”

  “If she wants to be found.”

  I gave Gavin a searching look. “What does that mean?”

  “She’s a friend of yours, isn’t she? You must have noticed the way she likes to play games with people.”

  “No.” Then I thought of Skye’s strange, twisted relationships with the men she dated. “I think whatever games she’s involved in are played out in her romantic life.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “I don’t want to speak out of turn, but I understand. I suspect Skye was upset with someone, and she decided to cause trouble because of it. She’s probably cooling her heels for a day or two, not realizing the chaos she’s caused.” He left that cryptic comment hanging in the air as he walked to his desk. When he looked at me again, there was a smile at the edge of his mouth. “I hope you won’t mind, but I made plans for us to have breakfast together, Lily. I’m going to let the kitchen know we’re ready.”

  I didn’t want to have a meal with him, but no excuse to avoid it came to mind. Gavin didn’t wait for my response, in any case. He picked up the phone. “Hello? This is Mr. Stroud. I want a plate of breakfast pastries for two delivered to my office. Pan dulce filled with coconut cream, and a couple of savory breads—the one with ham and, what’s the other called, the one with cheese? Yes. Hold on.” He covered the receiver with one hand. “Lily, is there anything in particular you’d like? An omelette, perhaps?”

  “What you’ve ordered sounds fine.”

  He gave me that funny little fleeting smile, the one I wasn’t quite sure was there until it was gone. “Bring sliced fruit as well. And fresh-squeezed juice and tea. Oh, and coffee.” His hand went to the receiver again. “You take your coffee black, don’t you, Lily?”

  I was surprised he remembered. “That’s right.”

  “Yes, coffee and tea. That’s everything. No, wait. Bring the tray to the Urdaneta Room. Not my office, the Urdaneta Room. Got that?”

  The brittle, commanding tone in his voice vanished as he put the phone down. “I have something to show you, if you don’t mind. Denny mentioned that you have a date with the spa at eleven, but I’d love for you to see the Urdaneta Room first. I know you’ll appreciate it, Lily. Shall we go there now?”

  Standing, I tried to smile at him, but it was impossible not to feel self-conscious around Gavin. That was what I remembered: he always tried too hard. He can win a battle, but he’ll never understand what the war’s about. That was what Martin had said of him, and I understood what he’d meant.

  As we walked out of his office and he locked the door, I asked him if there was any significance to the name Urdaneta. That earned a dry laugh. “There is, indeed. Does the name Andrés de Urdaneta mean anything to you?”

  “I’m embarrassed to say no.”

  We strolled down a long corridor. All of the doors were shut, and there were no windows. “It was Urdaneta who solved the problem of how to sail east on the Pacific,” Gavin said.

  “I’m even more embarrassed, because I didn’t know that was a problem.”

  “I had no idea either, until I went to school in Mexico.” Gavin took in my curious look and smiled to himself. “I spent two years of secondary school—what an American would call high school—in Mexico City.”

  “I’m jealous,” I admitted. “I would’ve loved to go to school in another country.”

  “I only did because my mother married a Mexican,” Gavin said. “In any case, it gave me an entirely different perspective on history. Magellan was able to sail west on the Pacific, because he had the Trade Winds at his back, but he failed to sail east. Another explorer, Álvaro de Saavedra Cerón, also failed, as did Bernardo de la Torre. It was Andrés de Urdaneta who finally succeeded in finding the way in 1565. He sailed from Cebu City, in the Philippines, to Mexico. His voyage opened up the trade route that came to be known as the Manila-Acapulco galleons. Of course, most of his crew died on that initial voyage, because they didn’t have the provisions for it.”

  Gavin opened a door and held it for me to walk through. “So why is this hotel called the Cerón instead of the Urdaneta?”

  “Cerón was better connected. He was related to Hernán Cortés, you know.” Gavin sighed. “It’s a good question. Why does history honor some and forget others? It’s not about accomplishment. It often seems like the vulture who swoops in and claims credit makes off with the glory, too.” He stopped suddenly. “We’re here. Close your eyes for a moment, Lily. I want you to experience this properly.”

  He unlocked the door—like his office, it locked with a metal key, instead of an electronic key, like the guest rooms—and I closed my eyes. He put his hands on my shoulders, edging me inside. The door clicked shut behind us.

  “All right. Open your eyes, Lily.”

  When I did, I gasped. The Urdaneta Room was stunning, with floor-to-ceiling windows covered with wrought-iron trellises and blooming pink flowers. They gave off an intoxicating scent that made my head swim, but in a delightful way, as if I were just slightly tipsy. It took me some time to notice that, on one wall, was a magnificent painting in a tremendous gilded frame. In it, a beautiful, dark-haired woman wearing a blue dress and a forlorn expression held a red fruit—a pomegranate—in one hand.

  “Is that…?”

  “Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s Proserpine? Yes, it is.” Gavin’s smile was as broad as I’d ever seen it. “She’s better known to most people as the goddess Persephone.”

  “But that painting is in the Tate Museum!”

  “One version is. He painted this copy himself. Isn’t it brilliant?” He sighed. “You know the poem, don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Rosetti wrote it himself. Part of it goes, ‘Dire fruit, which, tasted once, must thrall me here. Afar those skies from this Tartarean grey that chills me: and afar, how far away, the nights that shall be from the days that were.’”

  “I think I remember reading the Greek myth,” I said. “Hades kidnapped her and forced her to become queen of the underworld.”

  “It’s sadder than that. Because she was going to be rescued, but Hades had tricked her into eating four pomegranate seeds. The gods decreed she could never really leave him. She had to return to hell and be his wife for four months of every year.” Gavin sighed. “The model for the painting was Jane Morris, wife of the artist William Morris. She felt trapped in her marriage, apparently, not unlike Persephone herself.” He gave me that all-too-brief smile of his. “So, what do you think of my private oasis?”

  I walked around it in a slow circle. “It’s incredible. This room is absolutely magical.” When I looked at Gavin, his eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply.

  “I love it here. I really do,” he said, finally opening his eyes. “I think I’m in love with
the idea of having a room that makes you feel as if you’re out of doors.” He looked at me, his face darkening. “What do you think of the hotel, Lily?”

  “It’s lovely.”

  “I’d love to hear your professional opinion, not a polite one.”

  I smiled. “I like the vintage Mexican design on the main floor. The tile and the wrought-iron doors are beautiful. This room is incredible. But the guest rooms are dated, and I say that as someone who prefers vintage styles.”

  “They’re bloody ugly, aren’t they?”

  It was a relief, hearing stolid Gavin say that. I never thought of him as possessing a sense of humor. “They look like Carmen Miranda put them together, or else a giant fruit bowl exploded in there.”

  He made a barking noise that startled me, until I realized it was a laugh.

  “Carmen Miranda? That’s a good one,” Gavin said. “Martin always says that you have a brilliant sense of humor.”

  “Does he?” I aimed for nonchalance, but my heart thudded, beating so hard against my ribs that it felt like it was making a bid for freedom. First Skye had mentioned Martin to me, and now Gavin had. What did I expect? Gavin only knew me through my ex. We were standing in a hotel Martin owned. Sooner or later, his name was bound to come up.

  “You have very impressive taste. You always dress so elegantly.” It was almost flirtatious, the way he said it, and that surprised me. Gavin had always remarked on my clothes whenever we met, but he took such a keen interest that I wondered if he might be gay. Oh, Robo-Rex’s not gay, just English, Martin had told me once, when I’d mentioned it.

  “Thank you.”

  There was an awkward lull in the conversation, in which we both looked around the room as if the combination of Martin’s name and Gavin’s awkward compliment had rendered us mute. The spell was broken by a waiter who knocked on the door. When Gavin opened it, the man wheeled in a trolley. He set the contents on a carved wood table, removed a couple of silvery shells, and poured my coffee and Gavin’s tea into red-and-white china cups. The waiter made a brief bow and left the room, shutting the door behind him, and leaving us alone.