by Becca Bloom
I didn’t like this General Bolivar guy at all.
Adi moved toward the entrance, standing toe-to-toe with the guards in front of the door and waiting for them to move. “Well, at least I can get my stuff out of the apartment. Surely, you won’t deny me that!”
The officers didn’t budge.
With a large sigh, the apologetic policeman (whose name I really needed to learn) said, “I am sorry, miss. You cannot go upstairs. In fact, I must insist you all leave now. Me and my men have been ordered to protect the evidence.” With that, he ushered the construction workers out. They were all too happy to leave. Us, on the other hand….
“Seriously? All my sewing machines and fabrics are upstairs. I can’t work without them,” said Adi frantically.
Abuelita smiled sweetly, stepping closer to the officer. “You nice, young man. You smart too. You think take the pictures. You know is estúpido no let us use the upstairs. You more smart than General Bolivar. You let Adi get things for to work, okay?” She batted her eyes and looked up at him adoringly. It was quite a performance.
The officer crossed his arms and arched his neck to look down at her. “Do you really expect me to risk losing my job by disobeying a direct order from the general himself? I am sorry for your family, I really am, but there is nothing I can do.”
There may not be anything more he could do, but there had to be something we could do. The desperate looks on Adi and Tia Rosa’s faces wouldn’t let me quit searching for options until all hope was gone. I squinted at the name plaque pinned between the khaki pocket of his short-sleeved button-down shirt and the colorful bars I knew meant that he was good at his job.
“Nothing? Please, Officer Rivera, there must be something we can do to speed this process along. Adi can’t work without her machines, and Tia Rosa bought this as an investment property. Without the income she anticipated, can you not see what an awful predicament this puts them in? Tell us what we can do to help.”
“I understand your difficulty. However, unless you can explain exactly how that person ended up in the ground and provide irrefutable proof to the police to back up your findings, there is nothing else to be done. I really am sorry. But right now, I must ask you to leave.”
Adi looked like she wanted to punch someone. Through clenched teeth, she said, “I need Jake.”
“You’d better hurry. He’ll be out of range before long,” said Sylvia.
Adi left to call her twin, and the police took more pictures and strung more tape across the building. Finally, after making sure there were, indeed, no more entrances to the shop, they rolled down the metal door and locked it with a padlock we didn’t have the key to. To my chagrin, they put an extra lock on the side door. So much for Plan A.
Sylvia wrapped her arm around Tia Rosa, and I followed with Abuelita toward the comfort of the restaurant.
I wished I’d have gotten some pictures. Patting my pocket where I kept my cell phone (and finding it empty), I tried to hold the panic at bay when the front pockets of my vintage 501’s turned out empty too. I checked the deep back pockets for good measure. Nothing. There wasn’t anywhere I would have set my phone down, the inside of the shop being so dusty. Had it fallen out of my pocket when I’d climbed out of the tomb?
I was about to turn back to ask the police to let me in to retrieve my cell phone, but Abuelita hooked her sinewy arm through mine and pulled me forward. “I have phone. You no worry.”
“You lifted my phone?” I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised at her skills. She did, after all, have an attic full of assault weapons and an ancient machine gun.
“I get photos of necklace and ring. You phone has good zoom. I get good photos.”
I held out my hand before we went inside her and Sylvia’s restaurant.
She gave me the same sweet grin she’d tried on Officer Rivera. “Look in pocket.”
I patted my pocket and felt the familiar shape of my phone. “How do you even?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer, but dying of curiosity all the same.
“I learn many thing in my life,” she said with a wink.
Dropping to a whisper, I said, “You still haven’t told us why you have an armory in your attic. The relics we saw there belong in a museum, not in a residential area near a school-zone.”
She sneered at me. “Why you think I no let nobody in the room? No is my fault you nosy.”
“Well, you can hardly blame me. You are quite interesting,” I admitted.
That earned me a real smile.
“Come. You too thin. I give you cupcake.”
Had I not been the one to make the cupcakes the day before, I would’ve been impressed with her generosity. I wouldn’t hold it against her when she called me thin. It was way too flattering to be called something my rounded hips and thick thighs had never conceded to me. “You think everyone’s too thin,” I said, before the compliment went to my head and let me justify a second cupcake.
She shrugged, looking behind me and narrowing her eyes. Grabbing my hand, she pulled me toward the door.
“What?” I asked, looking around for an explanation for her abrupt action.
“Are you Jessica James?” asked a man’s voice behind us.
Abuelita scowled and dropped my hand to fold her arms over her chest defensively.
I turned to see a man and a woman, probably in their early 30’s, approaching us. He wore a green, polyester suit that clung to him in all the wrong places, and she wore sky-high platform heels in the same teal color of her miniskirt and eyeshadow.
“Yes,” I answered, my distrust instant.
The woman clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “We saw you on the news with our dog. Thank you so much for finding her!”
Chapter 5
My stomach dropped to my toes and my mouth went dry. Lady was my dog. More than that, she was my friend. Heck, she’d even saved my life when a crazy dude tried to shoot me.
Abuelita stepped in while I pulled it together. “We have the posters all over Baños and you no say nothing. You blind?”
The man bowed his head. “She escaped right before a business trip. We only just returned. A neighbor of ours showed us the recording of the news, and that’s how we saw Cuddles.”
“Cuddles?” I asked, finding my tongue.
“That’s her name. See? I even crocheted her a pink sweater with Cuddles embroidered on it,” gushed the woman, holding up a Pepto-Bismol pink atrocity with gold letters stitched on it.
“My eyes hurt,” I mumbled to myself. That was just wrong on so many levels.
“What?” asked the woman.
“Are you sure she’s your dog?” I asked instead. “When did you say she went missing?” They hadn’t said, but I wasn’t going to hand Lady over unless they gave proof. And even then, I didn’t want to. She’d been so skinny I could see her ribs when I’d first seen her on the street. If they’d been her owners, they hadn’t treated her very well.
“Almost two months,” the man said, his frown deepening.
Abuelita plunked her hands on her hips and raised her chin. “If you from here, why I no see you? Baños small town.”
The woman replied, “We are from Guayaquil, but we recently moved here. We brought our puppy with us to find a house, then we had some business to see to before we could make the move. My friend, the neighbor we told you about, remembered the puppy and told us about her as soon as we returned.”
There was a definite edge to her voice. We were clearly trying her patience, but I didn’t like how they had an answer for everything. It came across as too rehearsed. The week since Lady had been on the news, I’d had all kinds of people offer to buy Lady from me. She was a celebrity. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I felt my caution justified.
“Why didn’t your friend tell you about the posters? She couldn’t have not seen them.” If their friend had recognized my dog on the news, she could have recognized a color copied picture plastered all over the phone poles, on every information board in town
, and on fliers in several businesses around Baños.
The woman smiled tightly at me. “I cannot speak for her. All I know is that you have my dog and I want her back.”
Wow, I didn’t like her. And there was no way I’d hand Lady over to them without a fight. I looked around, searching for a way to get rid of these people.
As my eyes scanned over my surroundings, my vision settled on Tia Rosa. She stood in the doorway of the restaurant with a concerned expression.
“You okay?” she asked, looking between me, Abuelita, and the cheap suits.
Stiletto lady huffed, pointing her manicured claw at me. “This gringa won’t give me back my dog.”
Now I knew from my month in Ecuador that “gringa” generally wasn’t considered to be an insult, but she clearly meant it as one.
Folding my arms and looking at her steadily, I said, “I find it difficult to believe your claims when the real owner has already claimed the dog. Unless you can provide better proof than what you’ve presented, I can’t rightfully take her away from her present home. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re in the middle of an extensive remodel and have a lot of work to do.”
Holy smokes, that eloquent speech came out of me?! Grabbing Abuelita’s arm, I spun on my heel like a boss and charged into the restaurant, pulling Tia Rosa along with us and not stopping until we had passed through the door marked for Employees Only.
Adi looked at us through puffy, red eyes and Sylvia almost dropped her spoon. Tia Rosa climbed onto the stool beside Adi at the island, covering Adi’s clasped fingers with her pudgy hand.
“What’s going on?” Sylvia asked, handing her spoon to one of her cooks-in-training. Wiping her hands on her apron, she joined us around the hub of the kitchen — the aquamarine-framed butcher block island with gleaming, stainless pots and pans hanging above it.
Abuelita applauded and smacked me on the back. “I proud with Jessica. She no give Lady to the bad people.”
“What? Someone claimed Lady? But the posters have been up for over a month. I know some have tried to buy her from you, but nobody’s called to claim her.” Adi’s eyes lost all hint of moisture and her shoulders straightened.
“They saw Lady on TV and aim to make a few bucks off her,” I said, convinced they were lying.
Abuelita agreed. “They no good people. I feel it in my stomach.”
I groaned. Abuelita and her famous stomach had been wrong about every single murder we’d been thrust into. Her intuition was not to be trusted.
Crossing the room to the screen door leading to the back garden and the apartment Adi and I shared until I left for home, I watched Lady come out from a shady spot under an avocado tree. She stretched and yawned, then trotted over to poke at my hand through the mesh.
Abuelita fished a chunk of meat out of the soup simmering on the stove, blowing on it before she opened the door and plopped the treat in Lady’s bowl. As she always did, Lady bobbed her head up and down and raised her paw in thanks before giving any attention to the contents of her dish.
While her head was down, I whispered, “Did they call you Cuddles?” I waited for a reaction.
Nothing. Lady didn’t seem to recognize the name at all.
“You crazy talk with dog,” Abuelita said.
“You’re one to talk, Abuelita,” said Adi in my defense. “I’ve heard you talk to Lady too. Besides, she’s so smart, I think she understands us. See how her ears are perked up right now? She knows we’re talking about her.”
Abuelita closed the door with a scowl. “I no talk with the dog. I no crazy.”
Tia Rosa was particularly quiet. She looked back over at the mound of dishes waiting for her in the sink — the mound of dishes she had sought to free herself from with her purchase of an investment property.
Unlike me, who had never done anything very brave (well, not until recently anyway), Tia Rosa had gone after her dream in a big way, betting all her cards on the building next door. It was her ticket out of Abuelita’s kitchen. Her chance to prove to her little sister that she was more than a sidekick. I understood the struggle. Between my entrepreneurial older sister, Jessenia, and my supermodel younger sister, Jessamyn, I often felt invisible.
I couldn’t let my distress over Lady distract me from the elephant in the room (or, the body in the floor … same thing). “I think they’ll leave us alone for a while. I told them that the real owner claimed her a month ago and asked for them to give us some proof,” I said, pouring coffee for everyone around the island. The caffeine would help us think clearer.
“The real owner? You mean, you?” said Adi with a chuckle. “Clever, Jess. You managed to get away from them, keep Lady safe, and all without lying. I can’t wait to tell Jake. He’d definitely approve.”
I felt my face blush at the compliment. It didn’t help that she’d mentioned Jake. I cared way too much about what he thought of me when I knew I didn’t stand a chance of being anything other than his sister’s friend.
“You weren’t able to talk to him?” I asked.
“He was out of cell range. It’s for the best. He has enough on his hands climbing Chimborazo with a bunch of tourists. He doesn’t need this too.”
Shaking my head and sipping on my coffee, I plunked down on a stool beside Abuelita. “Tia Rosa’s property is frozen, and you can’t work when all of your stuff is on lock down.”
“Yeah, about that. I have a plan.” The way she set her jaw and avoided eye contact made me nervous. When her eyes flickered to Abuelita, from whom she received a resolute nod, I knew they were up to something.
Sylvia noticed it too, but before she could ask what the plan involved, Adi added, “I’ll pay my rent for the studio. At least you’ll have that, Tia.”
Tia patted her hand. “No. You no pay. I refuse accept you money when you no can work in studio.”
“I won’t let that stop me, Tia.”
“No! Is no good. You just like Bertha. You do crazy thing and you get the trouble.” She narrowed her eyes at Abuelita, who had the audacity to smile.
Adi protested, “I am not like Abuelita.”
Sylvia hugged Adi sympathetically. “At least you don’t take after your father, mi corazón.”
The solution to our problem became clearer as I drained my coffee mug to the tune of bickering. The officer had practically given us permission by suggesting it. It’s not like we’d be breaking the law … not this time.
I asked, “A lot of people from the Sophia’s graduating class are in town for this weekend, right?”
“Yes, they’re the ones organizing the gala for Miss Matty. They were her first class,” answered Sylvia, eyeing her mother and mouthing, “Enough!” before the banter turned to a full-fledged fight.
I looked around the emotion-laden table, determined to help my friends.
“Then, I suggest we solve this case,” I said.
Abuelita clapped her hands, her scowl gone. “How you think, I like!”
That should have scared me more than it did.
Chapter 6
Running upstairs, I grabbed my bullet journal and favorite pen. The coffee cups had been refilled and by the time I returned, Abuelita had resumed arguing with Tia Rosa.
“You have enough problem. I no want you help. You no remember the last time? You leave white hair for to find the police,” Abuelita paused to cackle. “Now is more bad. You have the purple hair!”
“Let her be, Ma,” said Sylvia. “I think it’s a nice change for Tia. Don’t forget the time you tried to lighten your impossibly black hair…”
Ooh, that was a story I wanted to hear! Adi bit her lips to keep from laughing while Sylvia and Abuelita glared at each other.
“The orange no look good for you, Bertha,” said Tia Rosa seriously.
Abuelita held her hands up in surrender (a sight I thought I’d never witness) and said, “Okay, okay. I no laugh at the purple hair if you no laugh at the orange … mistake.” To me, she explained, “My husband buy the motorcycle an
d nobody laugh. I try the sexy look and it no work.”
I couldn’t hold back a giggle at the mental image she gave me. Señor Jimenez straddling a rumbling Harley with Abuelita attempting a provocative pose behind him, her orange hair whipping her face in the wind. That was some mid-life crisis, and I loved her all the more for it. “I think that’s awesome,” I said, wondering what it would be like to have Abuelita, Tia Rosa, and Mammy in the same room. A geriatric Charlie’s Angels.
Abuelita patted my cheek a bit too hard. “I like you too, Jess.”
“See?” said Tia Rosa. “Jessica have much experience with the murder investigation. She help me. We be good.”
While I appreciated her confidence in my investigative abilities, I had more doubts in my capability than she did.
Tia Rosa gazed up at me as if I was her savior. I broke out in a cold sweat.
“I’ll do my best to help, but it’s not like I’m an expert or anything.” I doodled on my journal as Adi schemed how to save her business, Sylvia worried about Jake, Abuelita worried about Tia Rosa, and Tia Rosa worried about everyone except herself. I worried too. Dead bodies, dangerous climbs, and disputed dogs.
“That’s really good,” Sylvia said, nodding at my picture. I’d been drawing humorous comics of my many incidents here to send to my family, and this would be my latest addition. I figured, if I presented my adventures … misadventures … whatever you want to call them … to them in a comical way, they wouldn’t worry so much about me.
I turned my journal around for Tia Rosa and Adi to see Abuelita pulling me out of the hole in the ground while Tia Rosa and Sylvia’s eyes bugged out as they looked into the grave. I wore full-on Safari gear and held a whip in one hand (my nod to Indiana Jones). It felt disrespectful to draw the skeleton in the grave, so I merely topped it with a headstone bearing a question mark.
“Well, at least we know who she is thanks to Mom,” said Adi.
“But someone killed her. If her murderer has kept it a secret for thirty years, they’re not going to admit their crime to us so easily,” I said, voicing my greatest concern aloud.