Murder on the Equator Box Set

by Becca Bloom

  I stared at the phone, feeling like a manipulated bonehead for falling into her trap so easily when I knew better.

  Sylvia rummaged through a pile of cards inside her address book and handed me Agent Vasquez’s card. “We heard,” was all she said.

  Okay, so they all knew how stupid I was, but at least I wouldn’t have to repeat the entire conversation. This was just not my day. I stabbed the numbers with my finger, and was pleased when Agent Vasquez’s phone went straight to voice mail. I asked him to call me at his earliest convenience and left it at that.

  The waitress came into the kitchen, ready for more orders. None were ready.

  Clapping her hands together, Abuelita said, "Enough talk. Back to work."

  She stirred the contents on the stove, checked the seasoning, and barked orders. Adi, who looked like she felt much better today than she had last night, lowered a stack of plates, and Sylvia cut fruit while occasionally stirring the ham and eggs on the stove top. Adi spooned out the orders, comparing them to the papers on the counter. In a matter of minutes, they had fallen into an easy rhythm and the stack of customer orders on the counter diminished.

  As was becoming my custom, I joined Tia Rosa at the sink and set to work on the dishes. Who was it that said they did their best plotting while doing the dishes? Probably a mystery writer. After the events of the last few days, I was determined to brush up on my Agatha Christie novels. Not that I expected any more murders during my stay, but after being so convinced José had murdered his wife, I felt completely inept when it now became equally clear that the villain all along had been Christian. The more I thought about it, the more obvious it was. That’s probably why Agent Vasquez hadn’t answered his phone. He was too busy arresting Christian.

  As the day passed without any return calls from Agent Vasquez, my certainty grew. Nobody talked about the murder, José’s disappearance, or Christian’s involvement. It became the elephant in the room that everyone thought about, but no one wanted to mention. I didn’t want to lock horns with Abuelita. She was still convinced José had done it. And maybe he had. What did I know?

  It was about an hour before dinner time and the dining room was empty. As promised, I had mixed up a batch of doughnuts during the afternoon. They hadn’t turned out as airy as I liked, but the sugar icing I dipped them in more than made up for their density. I separated some of them to dip in chocolate, but I’d run out of cocoa powder. I’d run to the store later while they cooled.

  Chasing our binge of sugar with bitter coffee out in the dining room, we were surprised when a giant floral arrangement carried by a minuscule person came through the door. There must have been at least two dozen red roses arranged in the form of a heart, accented with poofs of Baby's Breath and surrounded by large green leaves with red veins.

  We circled around the reception counter, where the delivery person set the flowers. To be honest, I thought it was a bit tacky, but then again I had always been a wildflower kind of girl. Like Marianne Dashwood. Still, roses were roses and the flowers were beautiful even though they couldn't help being arranged into a heart.

  Abuelita plucked the card off of the plastic tongs holding it. Opening the gold envelope and reading the note’s contents silently, she clutched her stomach and started laughing. Tia Rosa leaned over and soon joined in her merriment.

  Finally, Abuelita controlled herself enough to extend the card to me.

  Not appreciating her joke, I folded my arms. "Those aren’t for me. I’ve only been here for four days and look like a roasted tomato with leprosy.”

  Abuelita pushed the card at me insistently.

  I plucked the card from her hands, glancing down at the note before passing it on to its rightful owner (Adi, duh!) when I saw my name on the card. My face burned in embarrassment, and I knew my cheeks were just as red as the roses in the arrangement.

  They ganged up on me, clapping and squealing excitedly.

  "What does it say? Read it out loud!" said Adi.

  My mortification was complete anyway. I had nothing else to lose.

  Holding up the card and clearing my throat, I read loud enough to avoid having to read it again,

  "Roses are red,

  your eyes are blue.

  Sugar is sweet,

  but not as sweet as you."

  Sylvia laughed. "Your admirer doesn't win any points for originality. Does it say who it's from?"

  I looked at the paper, but there was nothing else there.

  Looking a little worried, Adi said, "It could be from Christian. It’s something he’d do."

  I wished the floor would open up and swallow me. I knew my embarrassed reaction was anything but normal, but it was as awkward as heck to have a murderer be the first man ever to give me roses.

  Adi draped her arm around my shoulder. "Welcome to Ecuador, love! This'll probably be the first of many to come during your stay here. It is impressive, though. You haven't even been here a week."

  Abuelita shrugged her shoulders. "What you expect? She pretty and she shaped like woman." She formed a circle with her hands, as if I didn't know that my figure tended toward the round.

  Adi stuck her tongue out at Abuelita. "You're just mad that I'm her best friend instead of you," she said sticking her nose up in the air and speaking haughtily.

  I was truly speechless. Flowers from a murderer. Abuelita’s favorable description of a body I always felt could stand to lose fifteen pounds. Adi’s claim of me as her best friend. Nobody ever fought over my friendship. I wasn’t cool or interesting enough to fight over. I wouldn’t let their praise go to my head, but maybe I wasn't as bad as I thought. For years my family had told me the same, but they were my family and they were supposed to say things like that.

  The bell above the door rang, and I saw Agent Vasquez. He looked like he had had a rough day.

  Sylvia met him halfway across the room. "You hungry?" she asked. Abuelita and Tia Rosa stepped in front of me. As if they could hide me or offer any kind of protection. It was a sweet gesture.

  "I'm famished," he said, taking a seat at the table nearest us.

  Slipping past my elderly defenders and sliding into the chair opposite Agent Vasquez, I asked, “Have you arrested Christian yet?” I had got past them, but they stood behind me.

  He sighed, his shoulders slumping from their normal stiff posture. “And why should I do that?” he asked.

  “He is … I mean, was … José’s competition. And they were seen fighting the day of Maria’s murder. I called to tell you about it earlier, but your phone went to voice-mail.”

  He looked at me, his sigh full of long-suffering. “I do wish you would stay out of this. It keeps getting worse and worse.”

  “Did you find José?” I asked.

  “How did you know he was missing?” he asked, completely exasperated.

  “Fernanda called me. She was worried and needed to talk.”

  Abuelita added, “Jessica no look for trouble. Is true. Fernanda call.”

  He ran his hand through his short hair, massaging his temples and resting his thick hands at the back of his neck. “Yeah, she had reason to be concerned. I just got back from his parents’ property at Rio Negro. José was found out in the middle of a sugarcane field.”

  “Found?” I was glad I was sitting down.

  Agent Vasquez nodded. “He was murdered.”

  Chapter 23

  “Murdered?” Sylvia asked from the swinging door. She plunked a fried trout over a bed of rice and a side of boiled potatoes with peanut sauce in front of Agent Vasquez, who took a large bite before answering any questions.

  “How was he murdered?” Adi asked, following Sylvia in from the kitchen with an offering of two of my glazed doughnuts. Agent Vasquez looked longingly at the doughnuts as he dug into the food on his plate. Real food first. Dessert later. Not at all the philosophy Mammy had instilled in me. If you ate all the food on your plate, you ran the risk of running out of room for dessert. Better to eat dessert first, and then
you avoid overeating dinner. Judging from Abuelita and Tia Rosa’s habits, I’d say they had long ago accepted Mammy’s reasoning. Sensible ladies.

  I chattered in my own head, grateful to Agent Vasquez for being hungrier than he was anxious to share the gruesome details of José’s murder. I’ll admit to being curious, but I was also terrified. Two murders within four days. And both of them people I’d known — if only briefly. Poor Fernanda. She would take this harder than anyone. She’d forget her uncle’s faults, as death had a tendency to do, and his absence would weigh heavier on her for it since she was the one to withhold evidence to protect a dude she had a crush on. For her sake, I hoped Christian was innocent, but José’s murder pretty much confirmed his guilt.

  Gulping down his glass of pineapple juice, Agent Vasquez finally spoke. “José was murdered the same way Maria was. I’d bet it was done by the same person with the same weapon.”

  “A machete?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Oh, by the way, thank you for dropping off the anonymous note and stolen machete. I put it back in his shed for his parents to use. They’ve been advised not to continue his bootleg operation, but they can still make puro and will be grateful to have it back.”

  I didn’t say, ‘You’re welcome’ at the risk of incriminating myself. Instead, I asked, “How are his parents?”

  “They’re tough people. I suspect they’ll be fine sooner than most. Their house was already full of concerned neighbors when I left. No doubt, they’ll eat better this month than they have all year. Some of the younger men offered to help them cut their fields and work the press until they can handle things on their own.”

  “That’s really nice.” I was ashamed to admit to myself that I didn’t even know the names of my neighbors in Portland. (Except for the baristas at my favorite coffee shop, but they wore name tags so that hardly counted.) And if I showed up on their doorstep with a casserole dish, I’d get strange looks and quite possibly a restraining order for my trouble. Ah, city life.

  Agent Vasquez inhaled the rest of the food on his plate while we sat around him in contemplative silence. Abuelita was still in denial and most likely trying to figure out how José still could have done it. God forbid her gut feeling be wrong.

  “I haven’t had a decent doughnut in years,” said Agent Vasquez as he pulled the dessert plate closer to him.

  “Well, these aren’t as light as I like them, but they still taste good.” The humidity had made my dough sticky and difficult to work with, but I was determined to give it another go until they came out perfectly.

  He consumed half a doughnut in one bite. I sighed in relief when he closed his eyes and chewed slowly.

  “These are finger licking good, Miss James. Do you make any other flavors?”

  Through my grin, I asked, “What’s your favorite? I need to go to the store to grab a few things for the icing anyway.”

  Agent Vasquez’s face lit up with delight and he said with feeling, “Chocolate.”

  Everyone except Abuelita laughed. She clamped her fingers around Agent Vasquez’s forearm when he reached for his second doughnut. “If Jess give you chocolate, what you do for her?”

  “Mama!” complained Sylvia.

  Agent Vasquez chuckled. “No, Sylvia, I can appreciate what your mom is up to. She sees an opportunity and she’s smart enough to take advantage of it.”

  Looking between me, Abuelita, and Tia Rosa, he said, “In exchange for two chocolate frosted doughnuts, I will not make you wait for my report to find out the conclusions my men and I have drawn about Tia Rosa’s involvement in Señora Guzmán’s murder.”

  Without a second thought, I extended my hand to him. “Deal!” Surely, his calling her “Tia Rosa” instead of his normal Señora Jimenez was a good sign.

  Much like the man himself, his handshake was firm and resolute.

  He looked at Tia Rosa. “Though your own actions put you on my list of suspects, you have an airtight alibi for the night of José’s murder. I can attest to your presence at The Lava Lounge during the time given by the coroner for José’s death and, while there was evidence of your presence at the scene of his wife’s murder, the evidence itself is non-conclusive.”

  Abuelita jumped up from her chair, closely followed by Tia Rosa. They clapped and exclaimed around the table where they hugged Agent Vasquez multiple times, nearly knocking him over in their enthusiasm. I considered joining them, but he had his arms full as it was. I would, however, make good on my promise. I was so happy, I’d give him a half dozen chocolate doughnuts.

  “I’ll run to the store really quick,” I said as a group of hungry diners entered the restaurant from the darkness outside.

  Adi stood. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  I considered. The grocery store was only three blocks away. The chances of me running into Christian were pretty slim. I could wear my black hoodie and would come and go unnoticed in the streets. "No, thanks. I can be back in ten minutes tops and Sylvia needs your help here."

  Abuelita and Tia Rosa got up to join me, but Agent Vasquez placed a hand on their shoulders. "I have some questions to ask you. I ran a criminal history check on you and some interesting things popped up."

  Tia Rosa looked up at him with an impish grin on her face. Abuelita grumbled and sat back down.

  To me, Agent Vasquez said, “If you don’t come back in a timely manner, I’m coming after you. I don’t think you’re in any danger, but just to be safe, don’t stop to talk with anyone and return as quickly as you can.”

  As much as I wished to listen in on their conversation, I had frosting to make.

  Patting Lady on my way up to the apartment, I grabbed my lightweight, black sweatshirt and walked as fast as I could to the grocery store, weaving through the tourists strolling through the streets looking through restaurant windows for a place to eat.

  A honk made me look over. Martin waved. “You need a taxi?” he asked.

  “No thanks, Martin. I’m not going far.”

  “Tomorrow, you should let me drive you up to Luna Runtun. It has a great view of Baños.”

  “We’ll see.” I wasn’t about to subject my aching neck to that kind of torture anytime soon. “I wouldn’t want to take you out of your way.”

  He laughed. “I am a taxi driver! Is what I do. Besides, my house is on the way.” A car behind him honked.

  With a departing wave, he said, “See you tomorrow.”

  Not if I could help it, although it was nice of him to offer.

  The market where fresh fruits and vegetables were sold was closing its doors for the night. I glanced at my cell phone for the time. Seven o'clock. There must be a soccer game or something on. At least, the grocery store was still open. I’d have to hurry back if I wanted to frost the doughnuts and make it on time to my first Spanish class.

  Peeking down the aisles, I found the section I was looking for. The assortment of chocolate wasn't as diverse as I had hoped, but what they had was good quality. Selecting a bag of cocoa powder and grabbing another powdered sugar for good measure, I spun around with my treasures in my hands and rammed into a shopper who reeked of mint.

  My heartbeat raced in my chest and I turned around to run away from Christian.

  Chapter 24

  "Wait, Jessie! You like the flowers, yes?" he asked, but I was already halfway down the aisle on my way out of the store.

  I heard his shoes squeak against the waxed tiles behind me. Sweet crud, he was following me.

  "I want to talk to you," he said.

  No way, José. Oh God, José! His killer had sent me flowers and was chasing me in the grocery store.

  By now I was at the front of the store with Christian hot on my trail. I couldn't hear what he or anyone else said over the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Running out of the store and into the street, a city bus went by. I considered hopping on it, but Christian could've seen me through the windows.

  I heard him call my name from behind me. I needed to hide.
Quickly. The metal doors closed the market. I couldn't lose him in there. But parked on the other side of the market, I saw a pickup with a black tarp covering its bed.

  Darting across the street just before the bus could take off with its passengers, I made a mad dash for the back of the pickup. Crouching behind it, I saw Christian cross the street in my direction. Darn.

  On the street corner, my little candy-selling friend walked toward me. I waved her away, putting my finger in front of my lips and pointing in Christian’s direction. His back was to me now. The little girl engaged him in conversation, but neither of them moved away. If he turned around, he’d see me.

  Not seeing any other option, I pulled up the tarp and crawled into the bed of the pickup as quietly as I could manage, slowly covering myself with the plastic and hoping the sound of passing vehicles would muffle the noise I made.

  I heard feet scuffing directly behind the pickup and held my breath just in case Christian could hear me. The pickup shook and vibrated as someone turned on the ignition. Oh no. I chanced a peek out of the corner of the tarp. Christian was standing an arm’s length away from me. If I got out now, I’d practically fall into his arms.

  Panic carried me away for about two blocks before I calmed myself enough to think clearly. Okay, what were my options? Ew, what was that smell? My stomach wretched at the nasty odor accompanying me, and the perverse need to see what the source of the stench was almost overpowered my need to focus. Focus, Jess, focus on the problem.

  Baños was a small town plentiful in one way streets and traffic lights. Surely, the pickup would have to stop eventually. I’d just wait until it stopped and scramble out. No problem. I moved into a more comfortable position with which to exit the back of the pickup at its next stop. My knees ground against the metal grooves, and soon my feet fell asleep. We hadn’t stopped yet.

  I peeked out of the tarp again and saw that we were no longer downtown, but I could still see the lights of town.