by Mary Ellis
‘But there was a problem,’ Kate murmured.
‘Yeah, a big one. On Miguel’s first day on the job, immigration officers arrived and hauled him away. They detained him for three days to make sure there were no warrants out for his arrest and then deported him back to Mexico.’
‘And Luisa became upset with Mrs Westin,’ Eric concluded.
‘Upset isn’t the word for it. Luisa believed Agnes purposely made trouble for her son, which wasn’t true. Mrs Westin was an old woman. She didn’t understand how the world works. She asked Luisa, “What’s wrong with Miguel going home for a few months? Your family probably comes from a sweet little pueblo.”’ Chapman slapped his cap against his pant leg. ‘A pueblo. Agnes probably learned that word from an old Clint Eastwood movie. You know the kind – men wearing big sombreros, strumming guitars in the shade.’
Kate felt a jolt of fear for two people she’d never met. ‘That would be an inaccurate description?’
‘You’ve got no idea. The Gonzales family is from Matamoros in the state of Tamaulipas, an area well known for cartel warfare. Miguel probably had been pressured to join one faction or the other. That’s why he came to the US in the first place. Where he comes from, young men aren’t allowed to be conscientious objectors.’ Chapman kept glancing at the door, as though fearing an invasion of gun-wielding thugs.
‘How long ago was this?’ Kate pulled out her notepad for the next round of questions.
‘Six or seven months.’
‘Did Miguel apply for another work visa?’
‘Of course he did, but it ain’t that easy. Especially since he didn’t dot all his i’s the first time around.’
‘And Luisa was still angry with Mrs Westin?’ asked Eric.
‘Wouldn’t you be? Miguel went right back to a war zone.’
‘Why couldn’t Mrs Westin speak to Immigration on Miguel’s behalf?’
‘She did, but it did no good. You gotta follow the rules. By the time her attorney filed an appeal, Miguel was back in Mexico. Mrs Westin even contacted her congressman to intervene with the Mexican government, but all that bureaucratic red tape takes time.’
‘Does Luisa know about this?’ asked Eric.
‘No, Mrs Westin didn’t want to get her hopes up until her son re-entered the States. I suppose that plan will fall by the wayside.’ Chapman turned his grinding wheel on. ‘Is that it, Miss Weller? I gotta get some work done.’
‘Only a few more questions, I promise.’ Kate switched the grinder off. ‘Since Luisa still works here, I take it things went back to normal after their initial blow-out.’
He thought long and hard before replying. ‘Only on the surface. I asked Luisa why she’s still here. She said she wanted to stay close to the she-devil in case something happens to Miguel. Then she would make sure Mrs Westin suffered the same kind of pain.’
Eric straightened his spine and fixed the gardener with a glare. ‘I hope you’re not fanning the flames, Chapman. We’ve got no reason to believe something happened in Matamoros.’
‘No, we don’t,’ he snapped. ‘But Luisa always heard from her son every Sunday. Miguel would call like clockwork to check on his mother. And she hasn’t heard from him in a month. Make of that whatever you will.’ The gardener pulled off his gloves and stomped out, thus ending their interrogation.
Kate and Eric walked from the airless potting shed into the sunshine as Chapman disappeared around the corner of the house.
‘What are you thinking, boss?’ Eric asked. ‘Should we go question Luisa? I bet you’re eager to search her room.’
Kate thought for a few moments while sweat pooled on her upper lip. ‘As enticing as that sounds, anything she admits or anything we find in her room wouldn’t be admissible in court. I need to call Detective Buckley. If Luisa is our poisoner – assuming that was the cause of death – we need to follow the letter of the law. Lainey and her mother deserve justice. Let’s call from the car where there’s air conditioning.’
Detective Julian Buckley was not only in his office, but he picked up on the first ring and listened without interruption. ‘Is that it?’ Buckley asked after Kate recounted their conversation with the gardener.
‘Isn’t that enough?’ Kate asked, flummoxed.
‘It’s enough if I’m only interested in chatting with a Mexican housekeeper. That’s not even close to being enough to obtain a search warrant. Do you know for sure that Miguel Gonzalez is dead?’
‘No, but he always called his mother on Sundays.’
‘My mom lives in Jamaica. She’d be happy to give you an earful as to how many times I disappointed her.’
‘But Luisa had access to the picnic hamper on the day Mrs Westin died,’ Kate said.
‘Yes, I made that connection five minutes ago. But it’s still not enough for a search warrant.’
Kate sucked in a deep breath. What did her mentor, Beth Kirby, always say? If you smell smoke, chances are there’s a fire nearby. ‘What if we had permission to search the house?’ she blurted. ‘If the housekeeper has a room somewhere in the house, wouldn’t the owner have legal access to it?’
‘Good point, Miss Weller. The owner maintains full access to the home, unless the housekeeper has a signed affidavit that grants private quarters. However, being that the owner of the house died, she can’t give us permission to search.’
‘According to Agnes’s will, Lainey Westin owns the house and has assumed responsibility by paying the wages of the household help.’
This gave the homicide detective something to consider. ‘Lainey has paid Luisa Gonzalez as the heir apparent?’
‘Yes, she paid her on Tuesday.’
‘And you think Lainey would let the police search her mother’s house?’ he asked.
‘In a heartbeat. She wants her mother’s killer caught.’ Kate tossed her conjecture up into the air, hoping it was true.
‘I would want Miss Westin here, giving us permission to search in front of witnesses. If we find anything – which we probably won’t – it could be tossed out of court on a technicality otherwise.’
‘I’ll text her and insist she meet us here ASAP.’ Kate chanced a glance at Eric. He seemed to be biting the inside of his mouth.
‘All right, Miss Weller,’ said Buckley. ‘Text me if anything changes. Otherwise I’ll be at the Westin house in twenty minutes with a couple of cops.’ The detective hung up before Kate could rethink her plan or hedge the anticipated outcome.
‘Want me to step out while you call Lainey?’ Eric asked softly.
Kate shook her head. ‘No, you watched me crawl out on a limb. If it breaks, I want you to witness my destruction.’
But lo and behold, Lainey did not refuse her request. When Kate explained she had good reason to suspect someone on the household staff, Lainey drove straight from a late lunch with college pals to the mansion. She brought along a copy of her mother’s will, which her attorney had just filed in Probate Court. The house was hers. Thus, as new owner, she sent Luisa on an errand to pick up her dry cleaning. Once Luisa left, Lainey gave Detective Buckley permission to search the entire house in front of Kate, Eric, and Betty the cook, who was cleaning out the pantry.
Buckley didn’t mess around with basement cubbies or seldom-used trunks in the attic. He and two uniformed officers worked their way systematically through the housekeeper’s quarters, while Kate and Eric made small talk with Lainey in the hallway. Since the furnishings were sparse and housekeepers weren’t usually known for expansive wardrobes, the search didn’t last long.
‘Take a look at this, Kate,’ Buckley called, using her given name for the first time. With gloved fingers he pulled a bottle from a shoebox labeled ‘important papers,’ and held it up for everyone to see.
Although Kate didn’t recognize the brand-name of rat killer, the warning label was quite obvious. Warning: toxic substance – fatal if ingested. Not to be sold in the US or Canada. ‘Well, I’ll be,’ she said.
‘She didn’t buy that at the
neighborhood hardware store,’ said Eric.
One of the cops held open an evidence bag for Buckley. ‘No, she did not. Get this to the lab right away,’ Buckley said to the officer. ‘Most likely it’s the poison that killed Mrs Westin.’
‘Will that be enough to convict her?’ Lainey asked, stepping from the hallway shadows. The elegant woman looked a little green around the gills.
‘It’s certainly enough for an arrest warrant, Miss Westin.’ Buckley softened his expression. ‘We’ll take things one step at a time. Forensics will compare this to substances found in your mother’s blood sample.’
Kate took hold of Lainey’s arm. ‘You need to sit down. You look ready to faint.’
‘I can’t believe someone hated my mother enough to kill her.’ She clung heavily to Kate all the way to the kitchen.
Eric filled a glass with water and handed it to her. ‘Would you like us to call someone – your fiancé, perhaps?’
Lainey drank half the glass. ‘No, Steve is still homesick. I don’t want him driving here. I just need a few minutes, then I’ll be fine.’
Buckley barked orders to his officers and radioed for backup, along with an APB with the make, model, and tag number for Luisa’s car. ‘Just in case she doesn’t come back to work today,’ he murmured to Kate and Eric. Then he left to get into position.
As soon as they were alone, Lainey gave Kate a hug. ‘Thanks, Kate. I knew you wouldn’t rest until the right person was in custody.’
‘Thanks, but we’re not done yet,’ Kate said after returning the hug. ‘Luisa’s not in custody yet. And the police will need corroborating evidence.’
‘Mrs Gonzalez could have been set up,’ added Eric.
Lainey issued a dismissive snort. ‘Luisa should have been fired long ago. Those people usually bite the hand that feeds them.’
‘Those people?’ Kate asked, feeling the little hairs on her neck stand on end.
‘Domestic workers,’ said Lainey. ‘I don’t care what their ethnicity … they all have the moral code of junkyard dogs.’ She rose from the chair and glanced at her diamond-encrusted watch. ‘Yikes. I need to meet my financial planner in thirty minutes.’ Lainey flashed a smile on her way out the door. ‘Send me a text when Vera Renczi is in jail. When this nightmare is over … you’ll be getting a nice bonus.’
Kate and Eric locked gazes but didn’t speak until they heard Lainey’s tires squeal down the driveway. ‘Who on earth is Vera Renczi?’ Kate asked. ‘And just between you and me, that apple didn’t fall far from the nasty tree.’
Eric laughed. ‘You’re not kidding. I was hoping Little Miss Heiress turned out to be our killer. Some people just don’t deserve a life of luxury.’
Suddenly, the apple-cheeked face of Betty appeared in the doorway. ‘All right if I get back to cleaning out the pantry and cupboards?’ she asked.
‘I believe so,’ said Kate. ‘We’re on our way out.’
Kate and Eric left through the front door just in time to see Luisa Gonzalez apprehended by eight members of law enforcement. The fifty-year-old housekeeper and murder suspect didn’t resist arrest. They stayed long enough to see Luisa read her rights, handcuffed, and hauled off.
‘Where we off to now, boss?’ asked Eric the moment they climbed in the car. ‘This day has sure taken an exciting turn.’
Kate started the engine. ‘Back to the hotel. You need to get ready for work and I need to update my case file. Then I’m dying to jump in the pool.’
‘Nothing doing. When I leave for the restaurant, you’re staying locked in your hotel room. You’d make for an easy target swimming laps. You can swim tomorrow morning while I keep an eye out.’
Kate opened her mouth to protest the ridiculousness but remembered her promise. ‘Okay, but what about dinner? Can I at least call for a pizza?’
‘Definitely not. Who’s to say the person delivering your extra pepperoni, double-cheese calorie bomb isn’t an assassin? I’ll cook whatever you have a taste for after my shift.’
Kate decided against explaining the difference between a garden-variety killer and a trained assassin. ‘I have my own personal chef just like Oprah?’
‘Just like. Tell me your heart’s desire.’
‘Fresh grouper, grilled, with steamed broccoli and brown rice on the side. And since I’m being so healthy, I want bananas foster over vanilla ice cream, flambéed right at tableside.’
Eric rolled his eyes. ‘You’re an expensive woman to bodyguard.’
Kate smiled, thinking she might learn to like this after all.
Liam had spent plenty of time thinking about Charley Crump’s visit. In fact, he’d been unable to think about much else. Charley had left Santa Rosa Correctional in a worse emotional state than when he’d arrived. Charley hadn’t come to warn him or his sister. He feared for his own life. But who could Crump be afraid of if Jimmy Russell was dead and Doug Young hadn’t shown up for the heist?
Why hadn’t he known that Doug chickened out at the last minute? Why couldn’t he remember those minutes before being knocked unconscious? And who had knocked him out?
With a dull ache behind his eyes, Liam stood in line for the payphone. He was tired of looking over his shoulder and tired of covering for the man who’d sold him out. He wasn’t doing Kate any good behind prison walls and someone needed to provide the protection he couldn’t.
Liam punched in the number for his new public defender and held his breath until someone picked up. ‘I would like to speak with Mr Katz,’ he said.
‘I’m Julian Katz. What can I do for you?’
‘This is Liam Weller, an inmate at Santa Rosa Correctional. I’d like you to arrange a meeting with the Escambia County District Attorney’s office. I wish to give testimony regarding my accomplices sixteen years ago. There is no statute of limitations since someone died during the robbery.’
Liam waited while his file was located, then answered the anticipated questions: ‘No, I’m not trying to obtain a new trial or overturn my conviction. I need protection for my family. I believe one of my co-conspirators is threatening my sister and her friends on the outside.’
Patiently, Liam explained the relevant particulars to save the lawyer time. And surprisingly, Attorney Katz not only sounded interested in his case but confident that he could get the DA there soon. Since attorneys were never denied access to their clients, Katz assured him he’d be in touch.
‘You about done, Weller?’ Darius Gage, Liam’s least favorite guard, appeared behind him. ‘Other men are waiting to use the phone.’ The man swung his baton on a leather strap.
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m done.’ Liam hung up. He was so relieved to have taken a step in a positive direction he gave little thought to Gage’s presence.
This particular guard never cared how long inmates talked on the phone or whether or not those in line ran out of patience and bashed in skulls. As long as he got his paycheck at week’s end and the warden left him alone, Darius Gage was a happy man.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t too happy at the moment. As soon as Liam re-entered his cell, Gage pulled out his cell phone and punched in a familiar number. ‘Yeah, it’s me,’ said Gage. ‘We’ve got a problem. Weller just asked his new public defender for a sit-down with the DA’s office. He’d sell anybody down the river to keep his sister safe.’
TWELVE
After last night Kate thought she might enjoy having Eric around instead of Beth. The grilled grouper, herbed rice, and steamed broccoli in lemon butter tasted delicious. Yet they couldn’t hold a candle to his Bananas Foster, which Eric had served poolside. With twinkling stars overhead and soft music drifting from the lounge, dinner would have been downright romantic if they were a couple. But they weren’t.
Actually she wasn’t sure what they were – business partners? Employer and employee? Captive and jailer? Their relationship defied description. Yet even without a defining label, they had eaten too much, laughed comfortably, and talked long into the night. Eric shared funny stories of
growing up in a three-generation household with a grandfather who pretended not to understand English and a grandmother who didn’t approve of her son’s choice of a wife. Irena Manfredi, Eric’s mom, hadn’t been allowed to prepare anything other than salads in Bella Trattoria for years. Finally Alfonzo, Eric’s dad, insisted that his wife be allowed to try her hand at the daily specials. Slowly, Irena won respect and acceptance from her mother-in-law.
Kate shared stories of the bizarre pets she and Liam had during their early years. When Eric’s boa constrictor slipped its cage during one of the frequent escapes by Kate’s gerbils, the siblings spent several frantic hours searching for the critters. In the end, her pet became dinner for his pet.
Despite how enjoyable dinner had been, Eric turned back into a professional bodyguard first thing this morning. Their pool time deteriorated into a shouting match. While Eric swam his forty laps, Kate called Julian Buckley for an appointment. Unfortunately the detective couldn’t see her until late afternoon, and Eric’s job was forty-five minutes away at the beach. Kate needed an in-person update on the Westin homicide, since it was much easier for the detective to decline information on the phone than if she were standing in front of him.
When Kate tried to explain this, Eric behaved like a stubborn mule. ‘Call him back and ask for an appointment tomorrow morning.’
Kate stood her ground. ‘That’s ridiculous. Buckley is a busy man. If he can squeeze me in this afternoon, that’s when I’m going. He’ll think I’m a nutcase if I call him back.’
Eric boosted himself from the pool and reached for a towel. ‘Who cares what he thinks? I’m more concerned about keeping you safe.’
‘I appreciate that, but I care what he thinks. At least until the case is over.’
‘No, Kate. We’re going to the station together or you can conduct your business over the phone.’ Eric tossed the wet towel over a chair.
‘Excuse me? I agreed to accept your help, not take orders from you.’ Kate pulled a long T-shirt over her head, feeling vulnerable in her swimsuit.
‘What time can Buckley see you today?’ Eric asked as a muscle jumped in his neck.