Detective Fischer, notebook balanced on his paunch, looked from me to Ellie and back again. By now I recognized the signs of ‘get on with it’ in Fischer-speak, so I cleared my throat and plunged in. If they laughed, then so be it.
‘My room – our room – was broken into again, and Ellie and I think we know what they were looking for.’ I watched as Detective Fischer jotted something down, then stood to his feet.
‘Baird, get Forensics here pronto. We may just get lucky this time and find a useful print or two.’
I raised my eyebrows at Ellie, signaling my surprise that they hadn’t gotten anything the last time through my suite. Maybe our suspect was a little smarter than I’d given him – or her – credit for, managing to turn over a hotel room without leaving any traces behind. All the more reason they needed to see the list.
I jumped to my feet as well. ‘I have something else to show you, if you’ll wait a sec.’ I reached into my back pocket for the list of names. And froze – it wasn’t there. Either I’d lost it or someone had taken it.
I’m fairly certain that the look on my face told it all. When my hand came out of my pocket without the promised ‘something to show you’, Detective Fischer’s radar went on high alert.
‘So they got it this time, did they?’ He looked serious, and I could feel my heart beginning to beat a tattoo of fear. Now whoever it was knew that I’d seen the names, and maybe, just maybe, one of those names belonged to a killer.
I nodded, gulping back my panic. ‘It was a list. Five names. I might be able …’
I broke off. I closed my eyes and tried to picture the names as Ellie revealed each one. ‘I know there’s an Israel. And a Danny. I’m pretty sure they had the same last name.’ I turned to look at Ellie for confirmation.
She nodded. ‘Yes, the same name. I think, at least I’m fairly sure, that it was Martinez.’
I didn’t miss the strange look that passed between the detectives. ‘What?’ I demanded. ‘Did we miss something?’
Detective Baird, devastating dimple carefully tucked away, nodded after another silent conversation with his partner. ‘We did a next-of-kin notification this morning. The person who was found on Miramar property a few days ago was identified as Israel Martinez.’
Well. It would seem that Ellie and I had been on to something, all right. I scrunched up my face as I tried to remember the other names.
Ellie spoke up suddenly. ‘José Rascon. Definitely. And Keith Mc-something or other. There’s one more, but I can’t … wait! It was Richard Olsen.’ She looked mighty pleased with herself, and I could have hugged her. Sometimes her memory can be a bit, shall we say, cloudy, but this was a direct hit.
Detective Fischer wrote furiously in his notebook. Finally he looked up. ‘Get Forensics here, Baird. I need to get these two young ladies moved out.’ He turned to face me and Ellie. ‘Get your things packed ASAP. I’m moving you to another room.’ He made the announcement as if he were the resort’s manager and not Stanley West.
Thinking about Stan made me remember his strange behavior earlier, and I hesitated. Was this something to share or would it make me look nuttier than I already felt? Before I could decide, my in-suite phone rang.
Chapter Twenty-one
Ellie and I started like two scared rabbits. Before I could get to the phone, though, Detective Fischer held up his hand.
‘Answer the phone like normal,’ he directed me. ‘I’m going to put my ear up close to the receiver so I can hear what is said.’
I suppose it did make sense for him to listen in, considering that no one had ever called me here except Emmy and that spooky someone I’d privately dubbed the Miramar Murderer. Still, getting cozy around the phone with Detective Fischer made me a little nervous. I would have preferred … well, you know what I wanted. And it wasn’t a cookie, if you get my drift.
I nodded at him then took a deep breath to steady my nerves. ‘Hello?’
The silence was deafening. I was positive I could sense breathing on the other end. I looked at Detective Fischer for direction. He merely nodded at me, so I took that as a signal to speak up again.
‘Hello? Is anyone there?’
This time, my voice quavered just a tad, but it was enough to make the detective frown and shake his head at me. Great. I’d just given my hand away, letting the caller know I was scared. Well, dang it, I was! This whole cat and mouse game was getting on my nerves and, combined with Ellie’s attack and the three deaths, I’d had it. ‘Look! If there’s someone there, you’d better speak up and make it snappy!’ I was scared, sure, but I was also mad as a wet hen. I couldn’t care less if my words made Detective Fischer irritated or not. In response, I got a dial tone from the phone and caterpillar brows from Fischer.
I hung up the phone, just daring the detective to say something. I think, though, he could tell how irked I was, because all he did was sigh loudly – shades of my mother when she’s put out about something. Oh, well: I tried, and that was more than I could say for some folks.
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to stay here,’ said Ellie suddenly. Detective Fischer and I looked at her, waiting for enlightenment. Maybe Ellie was having come of her psychic moments. And maybe she was just as frightened as I was.
Detective Fischer crossed his arms, leaning back against the kitchen table. ‘What makes you say that?’
Ellie shook her head slowly as if freeing a thought that had gotten trapped. ‘I’m not sure. I just don’t feel …’ She hesitated for a moment, reaching for the right word. ‘I still feel like whoever it is can see us through the walls. Is that weird?’ She looked up at me and the detective, the dark smudges under her eyes a little more pronounced than they had been.
I shivered. I knew what she meant. Even if the killer wasn’t at the Miramar physically, he – or she – still seemed to know where we were. Talk about disturbing! This was even more uncomfortable than that first school dance Ellie and I had attended, forced to go, of course, by our well-meaning mothers. They had insisted that we just ‘give it a whirl, you might like it’, but Ellie and I had spent most of those excruciating two hours hiding out in the girls’ powder room.
‘Do you have somewhere else in mind?’ It was Detective Baird, who had come back into the room unnoticed. That in itself was amazing to me, since I generally kept tabs on him whenever he was nearby.
Ellie nodded, another interesting turn of events. I had fallen off her train of thought a while back and had no idea where it might be going.
‘Why can’t we stay with someone in the police department?’
I almost fell over. Really, Ellie? Although, now that I thought about it … I grinned to myself, catching the twinkling baby blues of Detective Baird. Detective Fischer’s eyebrows climbed nearly to his hairline. I could see that he was as bemused as I was and probably wondering how he could back out of his original suggestion.
‘How about Packard’s place? He and his wife have a spare room. Or maybe Annie? She’s got space now that … well, she probably has room for them.’ Detective Baird’s face split into a grin, and judging by the intense scowl on his partner’s face, he had hit a nerve. Well, well, I thought with amusement. Still waters run deep and all that jazz. Who’d a thunk it?
‘Yes, well, I’m sure she’d be OK with it. You call her, Baird. I need to get busy here.’ With that, Detective Fischer stepped outside to speak with the forensics team who’d just arrived with their gear.
Detective Baird pulled out his cellphone and punched in a few numbers.
Ellie and I sat on the couch, she with her eyes closed and head resting against the cushions and me with my ears in strain mode, trying to hear his conversation. Unfortunately, Baird walked outside and I lost the gist of what he was saying. I’d just have to wait.
‘OK, then. Sounds good. We’ll be by in twenty,’ said Detective Baird as he stepped back inside, checking his watch. ‘OK, yep. Gotcha. Yep, no prob. See ya.’ He snapped the cellphone closed and slipped it back i
nto his pocket. ‘Give Forensics a sec to check out the bedroom and bathroom, then you girls can pack and we’ll get out of their hair. Sound good?’ His smiled at the both of us, although I was pretty sure I could detect more dimple action when he looked at me.
Ellie nodded wearily. She did look bad today, I thought, and I wanted to get her moved and settled in as fast as possible. I dittoed her nod, then stretched my legs out in front of me in what I hoped was a languid manner. My knees made a loud popping noise, though, obliterating any chance of sensuousness I’d thought to achieve. I tell you what: if it’s not my stomach giving me away, it’s my body. A girl just can’t win. I was playing to an audience of one anyway, and she still had her eyes closed.
Within a fairly short amount of time, the forensics folks had swept through the bedroom and bathroom, giving Ellie and me the nod to finish our packing. I carried both sets of luggage into the front room and joined Ellie on the couch again as we waited for the signal to move out. I could hear the two detectives talking just outside the door and it sounded like a one-sided conversation to me, with Fischer trumping whatever it was Baird was trying to get across. I grinned to myself. I just loved hearing a handsome man taking orders.
Detective Annie Bronson’s house, a cute little bungalow set square in the middle of a handkerchief-size patch of grass, was about ten miles further down the coast. Here the sea looked choppier and the skies weren’t as blue, as though they’d had all the color wrung out of them. Still, living near water of any kind has always appealed to me, and I was glad that Detective Bronson was willing to take on the two of us as impromptu guests.
A short blonde with a curvy figure, Annie, as she told us to call her, hovered just this side of fifty, making it look like an easy job. Granted, she had the tell-tale wrinkles of the outdoor enthusiast, and her skin was a tad too tanned for my taste, but all in all, I could see the attraction factor for Detective Fischer. I could afford to feel magnanimous; Detective Baird, it would appear, was just her friend and nothing more.
Ellie and I settled into a back bedroom just off the main hallway. Its two windows looked out over a backyard full of color; riotous bougainvillea spread its tendrils along the length of a wooden fence as other flowers jostled one another for space in the beds below. I envied Annie this paradise, but I guess there’s really no place like home. Memories of pine trees and creeks and soft snow flurries filled my mind, and I felt a twinge of something akin to homesickness. Boy, I really was getting soft, especially since I’d willingly traded said homestead for the beach … and a killer.
‘Make yourselves at home, gals.’ Detective Bronson – oops, I mean Annie – opened the closet near her front door and reached in for a light jacket. ‘I’ll be gone for about an hour, maybe two, but if you need anything just call my cell. I left the number on the fridge.’ With a smile like morning sunshine, she breezed out through the door.
I wandered through the house, picking up the various knick-knacks and thumbing through the books that seemed to be on every available surface. Her taste ran to mysteries – no surprise there – and I saw that she read many of the same authors I did: P.D. James; Elizabeth George and the like. What I didn’t understand was this: if we had the same taste in books, how in the world had she been able to feel romantic over someone like Detective Fischer? Weird.
I was standing in the front room, staring out the picture window when movement outside caught my eye. A man stood there, leaning against the fence surrounding the yellow house across the street. The dark wrap-around sunglasses and his stance, arms crossed and chin jutting out, gave me goose bumps. If he was waiting for someone, he didn’t look at all happy.
Ellie came up behind me, resting her chin on my shoulder. I craned my neck to look at her, smiling to see her more relaxed than she had been in a few days.
‘Hey, kiddo,’ I said, turning my head back to watch the man. He had moved a bit further out onto the sidewalk, talking on a cellphone held between his shoulder and jaw, gesticulating with one hand. He was definitely looking angry.
Suddenly he spun around and stared straight at us. Ellie gasped and shrank back, but I felt frozen to the spot, unable to move. The now-familiar shivers played up and down my spine as I watched him watching me. Was I looking at the Miramar Murder?
I was distracted by the sound of a motor revving and screeching tires as a low-slung truck veered around the corner and slammed to a halt in front of the man, effectively blocking my view. The driver leaned across the seat and said something through the open passenger window, then looked over his shoulder at Annie’s house. By this time, my heart had begun to climb its way from my chest into my throat. With everything that had happened so far, I was seeing threats everywhere, On the other hand, he could simply be a resident …
‘I think we need to call Detective Bronson,’ said Ellie, interrupting my thoughts, her voice a strained version of its normal self. ‘This is getting ridiculous, AJ.’
I couldn’t have said it better myself. For whatever reason, someone – very possibly one of the men outside – had it in for Ellie and me. If it was the list of names, then that was out of our hands – literally. If it was something they thought we knew, I couldn’t do squat about that. However, I could – and would – make sure that we weren’t a sitting target. I turned to look at my cousin.
‘Ellie, you get Annie on the phone. I’m calling in the big boys.’
My fingers felt twice their normal size, and I couldn’t keep them steady enough to dial the phone. Finally, completely frustrated with myself and ticked off at the entire craziness of it all, I threw down my cell and marched out to the kitchen. I was relieved to see a normal-sized phone hanging on the wall near the back door and walked over to grab the handset.
Just as I my fingers closed over the cool plastic, a sound from just the other side of the door made me jump ten feet into the air. My heart, of course, had already beaten me to it and was now dangling somewhere above my head. A slight exaggeration, I know, but that’s exactly how it felt. I had never been so scared in all my life. Again.
Chapter Twenty-two
I’m not too sure what I was thinking at that moment, but I dropped to the floor and made myself as small as possible against the linoleum. From the corner of my eye, I could see Ellie’s feet as she came around the doorway and stopped abruptly.
‘Get down, get down!’ I hissed, motioning at her. She obediently crouched down, peering around the corner and making wild hand gestures back at me. If I had to guess, she’d just used some unprintable words.
If this had been a spy thriller, Ellie and I would be the agents in the crosshairs of the enemy. With that comforting thought, I began edging toward the hallway where Ellie was, moving turtle-style across the floor. My only hope at that moment was that whoever was on the other side of that door wouldn’t think to look down when he peeked through the curtainless window.
Ellie and I stayed huddled together while she whispered to Annie Bronson on the other end of the line. I still had the phone’s handset, but my fingers were shaking too badly to dial anything, even a number as simple as 911. I can completely understand how someone can feel petrified with fear and not be able to move away from a dangerous situation.
Ellie stuck her head close to mine and whispered, ‘Annie’s on her way and so are your detective buddies.’ I gave her an irritated shove; they were not my anything.
Another thud against the back door made us both jump and clutch at each other. When we were much younger (and much smaller), Ellie and I seemed to attract trouble like a magnet does metal shavings. Once, on a dare, we’d slipped into old Mr Jenkins’ house, a run-down, dilapidated excuse for a building. I can’t remember the specifics, but the upshot is that we found ourselves cornered in a dark living room by a very angry Mr Jenkins, whose threats of running us in to the local police station had us sniveling and crying like two babies. While I didn’t exactly feel like crying right now, I did feel trapped and scared. It’s weird how the more things change, the
more they stay the same.
Sometimes I get these “wild hairs”, as my mother refers to them, and do things that I can’t rationally explain. That would definitely apply to what I did next. Disentangling myself from Ellie’s grasp, I went into military mode and belly-scooted my way into the front room, heading straight for the window. Ellie was almost hysterical behind me, hissing warnings and sounding for all the world like a snake under great stress. I ignored her, something I’ve perfected over the years, and found myself just under the window’s ledge. I really didn’t have a plan for my next move – typical for someone who lives life on the fly – but it occurred to me that I’d have to raise my head above the sill in order to peer out. Eyes on the top of my head would have been perfect.
I was saved from having to make this decision by the sound of several cars pulling up all at once. I hoped this meant the cavalry had arrived. If not, Ellie and I were definitely outnumbered. The squawk of police scanners could be heard and I nearly kissed the floor with happiness when the sound of a key turning in the front door reached my ears.
‘Are you two OK?’ Annie’s concerned voice came from somewhere above my head and I slowly rose to my feet, still a bit wary of exposing myself to whoever was outside the window. ‘AJ? Ellie?’
‘In here,’ I said weakly as Ellie called out from the hallway where she’d remained until certain of safety.
I could hear movement from all around the small house now and voices of various officers calling to one another as they cleared each area. I was starting to feel embarrassed, like maybe we’d jumped the gun over this whole thing, and that our nerves had convinced us that trouble was about. I was just trying to find the words to formulate an apology with when I heard a sudden shout and sounds that indicated convergence at one particular spot in the backyard. My heart rate picked up a bit in anticipation of being exonerated, albeit in my own mind. I hate to look like a fool.
Murder at the Miramar (Augusta Burnette Series) Page 13