by Peggy Dulle
“I repeat, Miss Wilcox. How did you know Betsy Ruiz?” Detective Ramirez asked.
“She was a friend of my parents.” I saw Ramirez’s eyes widened, so I continued, “But I had never met her before.”
“Until today?” Detective Hansen asked.
“Yes.” It was time to try the sympathy card. “You see, in August it’s going to be the anniversary of my parents’ deaths. They were both killed in a plane crash. Before they died, they took a cruise with a group of friends.” Thinking about them brought tears to my eyes. The tears were real, but I deliberately let them fall down my cheeks.
“I wanted to relive their last vacation, so I’m taking the cruise they took. They stayed at this hotel, so we did too. Ramon told me Betsy was part of their group and that she was at the pool. I never knew their cruising friends. I went out to talk to her.”
“What did she tell you?” Detective Hansen asked.
Okay, this was trickier. Had anyone seen me with Betsy the first time I’d gone out? As my mom used to say, “in for a penny, in for a pound”. I went for it.
“Nothing,” I told them. “She was dead!” I buried my head in my hands.
I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder. I looked up, it was Tom. He stared at me and his eye twitched. A clear indication he knew I wasn’t exactly telling the truth. “It’s okay, Liza,” he said, then turned to the two detectives. “That’s it. Is there anything else you need?”
“We’re not done with her,” Detective Ramirez said.
“You are for now,” Tom stepped toward him. “If she thinks of anything else, I’ll call you.”
“From the cruise ship?” Detective Ramirez bellowed.
“Yes, they’ve got phones on it,” Tom turned and looked at me, “right?”
I nodded.
“We’re not done,” Ramirez said.
Hansen stood up. “We know where to find her if we need her, Jack.”
Ramirez scowled at me, then turned back to his partner, “Yeah, in Mexico.”
Hansen turned to Tom. “I want you to stop by with her after you get back from the cruise.”
Tom nodded. “We’ll come to the station the minute we get off the boat.”
“Thanks.” Hansen nodded at Tom, then at me. “Come on, Jack. We’ve got other people to interview.”
And they left. I let out a long breath. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding it for so long.
I got up. “I’m starving, Tom. Let’s go and get something to eat.”
I started toward the door and Tom grabbed my arm.
I looked up at him, “What?”
“Have a seat.” His jaw set in a determined way I’d seen before.
“Why?” I asked.
He glared at me. It made me very uncomfortable. The pit in my stomach startled tumbling. I sat down on the couch. “Okay, so what?”
He reached into his pocket and took out my photos and he laid them out one by one on the coffee table. With each picture, my stomach hurt more, my pulse accelerated, and I held my breath again.
When he set down the last pictures, he turned and stared at me. He picked up the six pictures with Betsy in them and laid them on top. “Now, will you tell me exactly what the hell is going on?”
Chapter 6
Before I answered, I had a few questions. “Have the police seen these?”
Tom frowned, “I’m the one asking the questions, Liza,” I started to speak but he put his hand up to silence me, then he continued, “and you don’t get to change your answers based on whether the police have seen these or not.”
“I wouldn’t change my answers to you,” I said. Okay, that wasn’t exactly the truth, but I’d certainly never totally lie to him.
He sat down in the chair Detective Hansen had vacated, propped his elbow on his knee, put his chin in his hand, and stared at me.
When he did that one eyebrow thing again, I smiled and said, “I love the way you can make just one eyebrow go up. It’s a gift, you know.”
“Liza!”
I jumped. “Okay, okay.”
“Let me start for you,” he said and pointed to a picture. “These two people are your parents. I recognize them from a photo you have hanging in your house.” He pointed to the other photos with my parents in them. “I assume these are all them, too, unless your father went with a different women each time.”
“My mother liked to change the way her hair looked. She did it all the time.”
He smiled. “Okay, and this woman,” he pointed to several pictures, “is Betsy Ruiz – the dead woman lounging at the pool.”
“Right!” I said.
“Okay, so I know all of that. Why don’t you fill in the rest?”
“These are pictures from their cruises.”
“Cruises?”
“Yes. My mom and dad went on a cruise each summer. They had a group of friends they always went with.” I pointed to the pictures, “These are the friends.”
“You told the detectives you didn’t really know Betsy Ruiz, was that correct?”
“Yes, I never met her until today.”
“You lied to them.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He shook his head, “Liza, when people say they ‘met someone’ it means they actually had a conversation with them. If you just saw her at the pool and she was dead, you wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, that’s a good observation, Tom. I’ll have to remember that when I’m asking questions.”
“Liza!”
“Oh, all right. I met Betsy a few minutes before she was shot. Ramon told me she was at the pool so I went over and spoke to her. She seemed like a really nice person. We talked about my parents and the cruises they’d gone on. She told me all about the cruising group.” I pointed to the pictures. “I had these and I wanted her to tell me who they were.”
“Why?”
Okay, I love the man but if I told him I was going on this cruise to investigate my parents’ and possibly Adam’s deaths, he would drag me into the car and take me home.
While I figured out what to say, Tom stood, “If you’re going to lie to me, we’re going home.”
I held up my hand. “Wait.”
He beckoned me with his hand. “Spill your guts, Liza. Come on, it’s easy. You’ll feel better after telling me.”
I sighed.
“I’ll feed you a big meal when we’re done talking,” he added.
Okay, that’s not fair.
My stomach rumbled loud enough for us both to hear.
He smiled.
“Oh, all right,” I picked up the picture I had shown Ramon. I talked as I paced. “This is Betsy Ruiz. She was a member of the cruising group, along with my parents, three other couples, and a woman who brought a different man every time. Betsy said Carmelita was like a professional cruising escort, but really nice.”
I pointed to the picture of my parents on their last cruise. “My parents were killed after the last time they took this cruise. Betsy’s husband, Adam, was actually killed, well not exactly killed, but he died during their last cruise. It was so sad. But according to Brenda, he cheated on Betsy. What a scum! And they were newlyweds. The last cruise was their honeymoon. You go on your honeymoon and your husband dies. How creepy is that?”
I glanced at Tom and he nodded.
I continued, “And another woman was killed during my parents’ last visit to this hotel. I don’t know who she was. But I’m thinking maybe she was a prostitute like those three women we saw arrested earlier. Adam cheated, so maybe he was the last guy to be with her before she died. That would be three deaths that might be somehow linked and then there’s my parents’ deaths. Could that be related too?”
When I finally stopped pacing and faced Tom, he had his hand over his eyes and he rubbed his temples with his thumbs. I’d seen this before. It wasn’t a good sign.
“What?” I said and sat down next to him.
He removed his hand and took a long deep breath. “It’s a date thing.
One of those, my computer gave me a wrong date, so I’m going to investigate it and put myself in danger again. A date thing, right?”
“Well, kind of.”
He stood.
“I’m not going home. This cruise cost me half my savings account.”
“Let’s go get something to eat.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost six and I’m starving. Then we’re coming back here and you’re going to tell me how this all started, detail by detail. And then we’ll figure out if we’re going home or not.”
I stood, too. “I’m not going home, Tom.”
“Food, Liza.”
“Fine.” I headed toward the door.
“You might want to grab a sweater, honey. It’s going to get cool outside, later.”
I turned and smiled at him.
“What?” He raised his hands, palms up.
I stepped into his arms, got on my tiptoes and kissed him. He looped his arms around my waist and pulled me close.
When I pulled away, he asked, “What was that for?”
“You’re ticked off at me, maybe even more than a little mad. You know I lied to you about why we went on this cruise and still you’re concerned I might get cold.”
His eyes glistened at me. “Loving you is always an adventure, Liza.”
“Want to skip dinner?” I said, as I put my arms around him.
He leaned down and kissed me again. It was luscious. The kind that spreads a nice warm feeling all over my body and makes my toes curl.
My stomach growled.
He chuckled. “Let’s fill your stomach. I don’t want you thinking about lesson plans and food.”
“School’s out. I don’t have lesson plans to do.”
“Yeah, but I bet you’re already thinking about next year.”
He was right, I had been thinking about trying a new phonic reading program next year. I smiled. “Let’s get something to eat.”
I grabbed my purse and a sweater, and asked, “Did you really pocket the pictures instead of giving them to the police?”
“Yes, I recognized your mom and dad and wanted some answers before I turned them over.”
“When you were holding me, out by the pool, I felt you bend down. I though you were putting your gun away or were you checking Betsy’s pulse to make sure she was really dead.”
He shook his head, “Bullet in head, eyes open. There was no chance she was still alive. I bent over to put my gun away and saw the photos. They must have fallen from your hands when you saw Betsy. They were spewed all over the floor next to her.”
“Isn’t there some law against tampering with evidence at a crime scene?”
“Don’t talk to me about laws, missy, or I’ll start ticking off the ones you broke in your last two adventures.”
I shrugged and we went left our room. There were still quite a few police vehicles in the parking lot. Detectives Ramirez and Hansen were standing in front of the lobby door talking with Brenda and Ramon. Was she telling them about Adam? And what was Ramon telling them?
We got into Tom’s SUV, but before we could back out of the parking slot, I heard a tap on my window. It startled me and I screamed.
“Easy, Liza,” Tom patted my leg.
Oh great, it was the bad cop. Detective Ramirez scowled at me.
Tom pushed the button to roll down my window, then leaned forward, “What can we do for you, Detective?”
Ramirez held up a picture of my parents, Betty, and her husband, Adam.
I took it from his hand. “Thanks, detective. This is mine.”
He snatched it right back. “This was found way under the lounge Betsy lay on.”
“I took it with me to show her. I must have dropped it when I saw her. It’s a picture of my parents and her and her husband.”
“The dead one?” he raised one eyebrow.
That must be a cop thing. And lying at this point probably wasn’t a good idea. He’d already talked to Brenda and Ramon. “Yes, he died on their last cruise. It was their honeymoon.”
“I think we need to talk to you some more, Ms. Wilcox.”
“Is she being charged with anything?” Tom asked.
“No, but, damn it, she’s a material witness to a homicide. I can take her down to the station and hold her.”
“I know,” Tom said. “And I appreciate that you haven’t done it so far. Look, I know everything Liza does. If I thought there was anything that might help you, I’d tell you. But there just isn’t.” He pointed to me and continued, “She’s reliving her parents’ last vacation before they died. She knew there was a possibility that some of their old cruising group would stay at this hotel. She was right. Betsy Ruiz was here. Liza wanted to talk to her about her parents. That’s it. It has nothing to do with whoever killed Betsy Ruiz.”
Detective Ramirez frowned, then said, “You mean executed.”
I gasped.
“Yes. I may be from a small town, but I know an execution when I see it. I tried to spare Liza that little piece of information!” he growled.
The two men glared at each other for what seemed like an eternity and then Ramirez said, “I want her in my office ten minutes after you get off that damn boat next Sunday.”
“We’ll be there. And if Liza thinks of anything we think might help, I’ll call you from that damn boat.”
“Fine,” Detective Ramirez snarled. He continued, “By the way, Ramon said you had your gun drawn when he came to see what all the screaming was about.” He held out his hand. “I need it to test ballistics.”
“You think I shot Betsy?”
“No, but I need it to eliminate it.”
Tom wasn’t going to be happy. He left the other gun at my house and now he had to relinquish his little ankle gun. For Tom, it was like being naked!
“How soon can I get it back?” he asked.
“Ballistics takes a few days.” Ramirez smiled. “You can pick it up when you come into the station next Sunday.”
Tom took another long deep breath. He did this a lot with me. It was nice to see him do it with someone else, for a change. He reached down, unhooked his ankle holster and handed it to Ramirez.
“You want a receipt?” Ramirez sneered.
Tom shook his head and Ramirez stormed away.
I pushed up the button for the window, then turned to Tom, “I’m sorry he took away your gun.”
Tom shrugged, “I probably couldn’t have brought it on the cruise, anyway. At least I know it’s in a safe place until I return.”
“Good attitude.” I smiled, then continued, “now, Betsy was executed?”
He shrugged.
“That’s odd. I figured it was just somebody looking for money and she was killed because she didn’t have anything to give them.”
“No, thieves don’t put a gun to a person’s forehead and pull the trigger. Plus, the killer must have used a silencer or someone would have heard the shot. Three people checked in at about the same time the police figured Betsy was killed. They were in and out of the parking lot getting their luggage and they didn’t hear anything. Thieves don’t carry silencers.”
My stomach dropped with each word. Executed? Why was she executed?
Tom turned the engine on.
I put my hand on his arm, “I’m not really hungry anymore, Tom.”
He nodded, “I know, but you need to eat.”
We drove out of the parking lot and into Long Beach. I leaned my head back against the headrest. The sun was low in the sky and the lights of the city were coming on. It really was beautiful but I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it.
What did it all mean? Betsy was executed? Why? Did it have anything to do with her husband’s death or my parents? Or was it just about her? I needed Justin to look into Betsy Ruiz.
“What about Chili’s?” Tom asked. “You like their baby back ribs, and Ed at work told me there’s one near here right by the water.”
“That’s fine,” I shrugged.
It took us a while to get th
ere. We passed several other motels which looked a lot nicer than the Nordic Inn. And when we passed a Best Western, Tom didn’t say a single word.
He bypassed the parking lot at a shopping center called The Pike, and drove into another lot. “Get out, Liza. I’m going to have them park the car.”
I looked at him, “You’re valet parking your car?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Let’s see – the cost, someone else driving your car, and a million other reasons you never use valet parking.”
He shrugged.
I put my hand on his arm, “I’m really am fine, Tom.”
He opened his door as another attendant opened mine. I grabbed my purse and stepped out. Tom joined me on my side, handed the attendant his keys, and took my arm.
“No, dear, you’re not fine. That’s the first ten minutes I’ve had of peace and quiet since I met you. It was scary.”
I tilted my head and said, “Oh, it was, was it?”
“Yes.” He leaned down and kissed me gently on the lips. “Let’s put our name in at Chili’s and see how long the wait is.” He glanced at all the people wandering around. “It’s got to be at least an hour. We can walk by the water and you can tell me what’s got your mind racing.”
“What a wonderful idea.” I linked my fingers in his. “I love walking and talking with you.”
He smiled. “Stop buttering me up, Liza. You’re going to tell me what’s going on, remember?”
I nodded.
While Tom went inside to check on the wait, I sat on the bench outside the restaurant. The weather was warm and many people were out walking. Teenagers were riding skateboards, and I saw a few cops on bicycles going down the walkway by the water. Tom should get those for his men, I thought. Some could sure use the exercise.
A yacht pulled into the dock, and I stood to get a better look. It was a beautiful boat with a center mast that had to be at least fifty feet tall. I felt someone bump me from behind. I turned, it was a teenager on a skateboard.
“Sorry,” he said.
I smiled, “It’s okay.”
He grabbed my purse and took off. As he ran he dug through the purse, probably looking for my wallet.