by Becca Bloom
"Stop that, Jake. We're going to have to put everything back just as we saw it."
Looking at the gray specks of dust settling on the floor, I said, "Our only hope is to clean everything off when we're done and hope she doesn't come into this room anytime soon." There were footprints everywhere.
"Abuelita has led quite a life," Jake said, his voice full of admiration.
"And you can't ask her about it. There's a reason she's kept this room locked for all these years."
"Yeah, she probably didn't know how to get rid of her weaponry. She couldn't exactly return it or recycle it without raising some eyebrows." Jake moved his hand along the top of what looked like a hand crank.
Next to the ancient machine gun, and much smaller in size in comparison, was the mixer. "We'd best get moving," I suggested. I felt guilty having entered Abuelita's room. She held a world of secrets she'd wanted to keep undiscovered and we had intruded in her space. We now knew what she hid and, from what I saw, the truth would exceed even my wildest imaginings. And not with fun adventures of crazy, superhuman feats. Real life wasn't like that. The old photo albums stacked on top of the dresser next to an old AK47 could only have signified loss. Great loss.
Sylvia said, "We shouldn't have disturbed this room. Let's load the mixer and get out of here."
It took the three of us, but we managed to wiggle the dolly under the bulk of the industrial mixer. Like everything made in earlier years, it was solidly built. No flimsy plastic, electric lights, or fancy buttons. Just a large bowl and a lever on the side of the top with two settings.
Jake pulled a tie down strap with a ratchet out of his pocket and strapped the mixer to the handle of the cart, securing it tightly.
"You'd better get back to the restaurant, Jake. Go in the side door and leave the mixer as it is under the ledge by the back door so we can get it inside in the morning. Jessica and I will rearrange the sheets and clean up the dust trail you'll leave behind."
Jake tilted the mixer back, rolling it around like it weighed nothing. "I'll be quiet. There's no way we can keep this from Abuelita, but I'll do my best to delay the inevitable."
We heard him clunk down the steps slowly and the front door close behind him.
Sylvia and I were both quiet as we did our best to erase the evidence of our intrusion. Sirens invaded our contemplations, sounding all the louder for our silence. The nearer the piercing sound got, the more we hurried.
"You don't think we tripped some kind of alarm, do you?" I asked, looking around the ceiling for cameras and along the floor for a tripwire.
"I wouldn't put it past my mom. Let's hurry." Her eyes widened, as I'm sure mine did when the siren stopped close to us.
We turned off the light, hustled out of the room, replaced the padlock, and cleaned the dust trail and footprints behind us.
Leaving the house at a brisk clip, we peeked through the break in the shrub in both directions and breathed a sigh of relief. The police car was parked the next block down and several men were outside on the sidewalk.
We rushed across the street, intent on getting as far away from Abuelita's house as quickly as possible. We'd made it to the corner where a flickering streetlamp cast dark shadows around us when a loud voice behind us said, "Alto! Policia!" I'd seen Romancing the Stone enough times to know what those words meant. "Stop! Police!"
Chapter 17
I turned around to see an irate Agent Vasquez closing the distance to us. I pulled the edges of my black hat down, wishing it would cover my face.
"What are you doing here?" he boomed.
Even Sylvia, who of the two of us was most definitely the composed one, looked down at and shuffled her feet guiltily. "I live there," she said, pointing to Abuelita's house.
Agent Vasquez's stormy expression didn't change. "Dressed like a couple of burglars?"
"I like black," Sylvia said, recovering her bravado.
"And what about her? It's too warm for a hat." He shoved his thumb in my direction.
I looked around me for the right answer and saw Abuelita charging toward us. Covering my face and groaning, I said, "Whatever you're thinking we did has nothing to do with why we're here. Why are you here anyway?" I asked, dropping my hands and finally connecting his untimely presence with the house a block down. Victor's house.
"Answer my questions first, Miss James."
"Did you get the computer?" I asked.
Agent Vasquez crossed his arms and glared at me.
"I'll take that as a "No," I mumbled.
Abuelita was within hearing distance and I could tell Sylvia had seen her from the way her shoulders stiffened. "Ay, caramba," she muttered.
I couldn’t have said it better.
Agent Vasquez nodded at Abuelita, "Señora Jimenez," he said in greeting.
She ignored him, marching until she stood toe-to-toe with her daughter.
I didn't have time to think, not that I could have come up with a better plan anyway. Stepping closer to the two and placing a hand on either of their shoulders, I said, "Abuelita, I'm so sorry. We shouldn't have broken into your room."
Sylvia nodded. "I'm sorry, too, Ma. Some things should stay a secret."
Agent Vasquez spread his arms. "What is this? Can you ladies not go a whole week without complicating my work and becoming a major pain in my backside?"
Abuelita clucked her tongue. "Sylvia no pain in butt. Jessica has one."
Agent Vasquez didn't laugh at her joke. I didn't either, though she did earn an eye roll. Seriously, when was she going to let that little incident go? "You're never going to forget that, are you?" I asked.
"Never," she assured me.
"Nice," I said sarcastically.
Agent Vasquez heaved a sigh and looked over his shoulder at the policemen milling around the front of Victor's house. There was another man there barking orders. He wasn't in a police uniform, but his short-clipped hair, dark shirt, and creased trousers gave him an official look.
"I'd better get back over there before the fool messes with the evidence," he said.
"We're free to go?" asked Sylvia.
"Did you ransack Victor's house?" he asked plainly.
"Is that what happened?" I asked, my thoughts immediately turning to the computer in my possession. I really wanted to rid myself of that thing. Especially now.
He nodded. "Roberto decided to stay there over the weekend. He called as soon as he saw. Unfortunately, I had to involve the theft division and their inspector is an idiot."
"Whoever did that was looking for something. Do you think they found what they came for?" I held my breath, hoping that was the case.
"From the looks of things, no."
"Could they be after the computer? Edgar thinks that whatever is on there is important." I said.
"They could be. I'll swing by as soon as I can get away from here. Does anyone besides us," he circled his finger around to include Abuelita and Sylvia, "know you have his computer?"
“Diego figured it out. He’s the guy at CompuMundo.” I thought back. Was there anyone else? I would have told Edgar, but Hugo had come inside the parlor before I could. So, neither of them knew. Roberto knew, but I hadn’t told Vanessa. "Other than Adi, Jake, Sylvia, Abuelita, Martha, Fernanda, Diego, Roberto, and Tia Rosa, I don't think so."
He grunted. "That's too many. You could be in danger."
I almost asked why, but I knew the answer. If someone was looking for the computer, and they found out I had it, they’d come after me next.
"You'll take it off my hands tonight?" I asked just to make sure he knew how important it was that he not put it off a second longer than necessary.
"Yes. It’s a priority. It might be late, but I will pick it up as soon as I can get away from here." He turned to leave.
Great. A late night and a super early morning. Tomorrow was already off to a rough start. However, there was no way I'd be able to sleep with that laptop in the house either. Every creak and squeak would send me down a spiral
of panic, thinking the murderer was coming after me. Adi would be in danger, too. Maybe Lady could sleep inside for tonight.
"Hugo kill Victor. I find proof."
Agent Vasquez froze in place. Turning to face us, he rejoined our group. "Kindly enlighten me," he asked Abuelita.
My heart pounded against my ribs. If Abuelita found evidence against the killer, an arrest could be made immediately, and we could all sleep soundly tonight.
Clasping her hands and lifting her chin, Abuelita said, "I look at email of Victor."
"You messed with the computer? I asked you not to touch it." I should have kept my mouth shut.
"And you go in my room. You no can be angry with me," she snapped.
She had a point there.
Continuing, Abuelita said, "First, I look in email sent. I see nothing. Next, I look in email draft. I find something. He write to Roberto, but he no send."
"I'm guessing you read his email?" prompted Agent Vasquez.
"Victor say he angry with Hugo. Hugo bother him for property. He offer much money, but Victor no sell. This continue many month. The day Victor write Roberto, he say Hugo hire Wilson for to break wall. He treat property like is his."
Sylvia shook her head. "That's awful. Poor Victor probably felt trapped. Hugo rents two floors. If he bullied Victor by acting as if he already owned the property, I don't know if Victor could have stood up to him."
"So he wrote his brother. But why didn't he send it if he needed help?" I asked.
"Was that all the letter said?" asked Agent Vasquez.
"Yes. Is proof."
With a grimace, Agent Vasquez said, "It's proof that Señor Santorini is too aggressive, but that doesn't necessarily make him a murderer."
Abuelita insisted, "Hugo murder Victor. I feel it in gut."
Agent Vasquez leaned down to match her height. "Señora Jimenez, while I appreciate the information you gave me, let me remind you that your gut was incredibly wrong in the last murder investigation. I don't trust it as much as you do. Now, I must speak to Roberto. If you have any other observations you feel might be useful to me, kindly save them for when I collect the computer." With a nod, he dismissed himself and stalked across the street to the front of Victor's house.
"Come on. Let's go back to the kitchen," said Sylvia.
"We need talk," Abuelita said, placing herself between us and grabbing a wad of fabric on our sleeves to hang on the few blocks back to the restaurant. So much for making an escape.
Adi and Tia Rosa received us cautiously when Abuelita released us, pushing us in front of her to go through the kitchen door.
"Sit," she ordered.
We obeyed. She refrained from any more “broken butt” jokes when I winced and squirmed.
Tia Rosa moved four stuffed plastic bags from the top of the island, tucking them into a corner, and Adi occupied herself at the stove. Smart.
I prepared myself for a deserved tongue-lashing. Unless Adi and Tia Rosa liked the ambiance the candlelight and lamps created in the dining room and kitchen, the electricity was still out and I wouldn't be able to use the mixer anyway. And who did I think I was to go inside a room Abuelita had forbidden entry into for years? It was one thing for her family to presume, but I wasn't even that. I was only a tourist whose parents happened to befriend her daughter nearly thirty years ago. I just knew she would ask me to leave.
"Jessica," she said my name and I braced myself, mentally packing my bags. "I sorry."
"What?" I blurted out. I certainly hadn't expected that. I gawked at her with my jaw open.
"I no repeat. One is sufficient."
"No, I mean, why? I don't understand why you're apologizing to me when I'm the one who should be in trouble."
"You no be in trouble if I no so …" she looked up, trying to find the word.
Tia Rosa helped. "Stubborn."
"Yes. That. I forgive you if you forgive me and no say nothing about the room."
I pinched my lips together, zipping across them with my fingers. Wild horses couldn't drag it out of me. Not that anyone would believe that Abuelita had machine guns and assault weapons in her spare room anyway. Or maybe they would. "I promise not to say anything."
"Me too," added Sylvia. "But, Ma, how…?" Sylvia's question died off.
"How I keep secret? You no understand to suffer. You live good life. I make sure you live good life. I protect you."
Tia Rosa wrapped her arm around Sylvia's waist, unable to reach any higher. "Bertha excellent mother. Some secret stay secret. Is better."
"And some secret no better stay secret," Abuelita said to me.
Confused why she would say that to me, I just went along with it, shaking my head.
Abuelita stared at me. "Every family have secret. Tell me, Jessica, you father. How he accept death of brother?"
"He never has accepted it, but he's finally made peace with his loss, I think."
"Why?"
How was I supposed to know? "He instantly went into denial. I guess that's a normal reaction when you hear that your twin brother died in an airplane accident somewhere over the Brazilian Amazon jungle."
“You never think maybe you father not accept it because it no true?”
I opened my mouth to breath, but couldn’t.
“Is possible he live.”
“Ma,” Sylvia snapped. “How can you suggest such a thing? It’s been almost twenty years since it happened and it’s cruel to dredge up hope when you have no proof to offer.”
“They find airplane, but they no identify bodies. They no have technology we have now,” Abuelita said in a low voice.
I counted my breaths to keep from hyperventilating. Was it possible? I wanted to believe it at the same time I wanted to refuse it. If my uncle was still alive, what kept him from us? How could I find him? Did he want to be found? Was I stupid to hope Abuelita’s suspicions could be true?
Like I could sleep after all that.
Agent Vasquez, true to his word, swung by right as Sylvia locked the door after the last diner had gone.
We set the mixer up in the kitchen, now that Abuelita had agreed that I could use it. It took up a lot of space, but we were able to find a spot away from the draft by the door in the corner between the coffee station and the spare oven and fryer. I was happy to be on Tia Rosa's side of the kitchen. Abuelita and Sylvia would need space for their empanadas. Not to mention the new cook and waitresses who would take care of the regular customers.
Tia Rosa gathered her lumpy, plastic bags, carrying them between her arms as if they contained something precious. I opened the door and gate for her when she left for her house. I couldn't see what her bags contained, but she was pleased. She seemed excited for the fundraiser in the morning. I wished I could be happy about it, but we still had no power. Two thousand hand-kneaded doughnuts … I shivered at the horrific thought that was becoming more real with the passing of each hour without power.
Adi agreed to allow Lady to sleep inside, provided we could fit her dress rack, sewing machine, and assorted accessories in my room so Lady wouldn't be tempted to treat any of it like a chew toy.
Shoving the dress rack into the corner, Adi said, "You know, if Lady does well inside, you ought to let her in again tomorrow so you're not alone. I'd feel better knowing you have a sort of protector here with everything going on. She did a great job letting us know there was a bat stuck inside. She'd definitely let you know if someone was snooping around."
As worried as Adi was about me, I was concerned for her too. "You're sure you'll be fine? What if Roberto or Vanessa are somehow involved?"
"I'm staying with Vanessa's parents and their house is full of relatives arriving over the weekend for the wedding. There'll be too many people around for them to try anything. Besides, Roberto and Vanessa are staying here over the weekend. I'll adjust her dress on Sunday before her wedding. If her bridesmaids go on any more binges or crazy diets, they'll just have to deal with it."
"That's the spirit," I said,
feeling much better that she'd be safe and Lady could keep me company.
I moved Lady’s round, flannel mattress inside the door. Lady looked up at me, her paw reaching out hesitantly.
"Come on inside tonight, Lady. You're a good girl and won't chew on anything, will you?"
She opened her mouth and looked between us.
"Is she smiling?" Adi asked with a smile.
It looked like it. Patting my legs from the opposite side of the doorway, she lowered her head shyly and walked in, spinning in two circles before settling in her bed with her nose peeking out over the edge.
"I think she'll do just fine, don't you?" I said as much to her as to Adi.
I set my alarm for early in the morning, but I couldn't sleep yet. Pulling out my bullet journal, I went over the lists I'd made for tomorrow, making additional notes and adjustments as needed. It didn't make the work any easier, but I took comfort in having all my thoughts in one place.
Taking my journal out to the kitchen table where Adi poured over a bridal magazine, I opened a blank spread and started doodling. One side of the page detailed my adventures of the evening in a comic reel, telling a story of three friends searching for a mixer with golden beaters. I left out the illegal weaponry, though there was a space for it if Abuelita allowed me to show it to my family. I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. My parents liked my drawings and knew I often embellished my artwork to give them a good laugh.
On the other side, I drew a small airplane entangled in vines. I added details without giving them a second thought and, when I stopped to look at my creation, I knew I could never show it to my family. A man stood beside the plane, scratched and bruised but very much alive, with a sad expression on his face. He was the spitting image of my dad. His twin, my Uncle Eddy.
Chapter 18
The alarm jarred me out of delicious sleep, starting my day with its annoying trill. Wiping the sand out of my eyes, I ran directly into the taffeta wall, struggling to free myself and trying in vain to turn the light, thus eliciting a curious expression from Lady, who sat in front of my door wagging her tail. She whimpered and pointed her nose at the door, effectively telling me she needed to go outside.