Killer Con Fuego

by Sarah Hualde

  “We’re choosing not to be unsettled,” Santi clarified.

  Dave was especially eager to share. He wanted someone else to see his side. He answered, “Oh, sure. It’s nothing. They’ve only tried, repeatedly, to have Con Fuego shut down.”

  “What?” Lydia’s shock echoed in her question.

  Maude explained, “They owned the restaurant before we took it over. They called it Pie in the Sky. It was a great place. But it never drew in a large crowd. They lost it after the first year. They’re a bit resentful of us since we’re the new owners.”

  “How long have you owned Con Fuego?” Lydia pinched off a piece of dessert for herself.

  “Almost two years,” Santi said.

  “And they’re still mad?”

  Maude nodded.

  Dave answered gravely, “People can fester in their bitterness for a very long time. I bet the Skies are at home toasting their great luck and thinking up their next attack on Con Fuego.”

  Maude and Santi wore similar sad expressions. It hit Lydia that they were truly concerned over their supposed enemies.

  “Let’s hope not,” Maude said.

  Lydia watched the couple exchange a long glance. She recognized the look. She and Ethan often paused in the same fashion. The couple was praying. Silently, both of their hearts joined in the same petition to their Heavenly Father.

  Chapter 17

  GAMES AND LIGHT-HEARTED entertainment continued for most of the vacationing families. Lydia couldn’t contain her apprehension enough to join in. Her position at the front door made it possible for Lydia to see her husband hurrying through the courtyard, his jacket over his head. Following him trudged Harrison and Charles.

  Lydia set her coffee cup on a nearby end table and shot from the room. She paused to kiss Ethan and then ran to embrace Charles and Harrison. She pulled them into her arms in one swoop, bringing them face to face.

  Harrison was heavy with the dread of hindsight. Charles was wobbly from his encounters at the police station. Lydia herded them into the warmth of the over-packed townhouse.

  Maude immediately cleared a sitting space for them. She handed them heaping fresh bowls of dinner. Harrison and Charles dug into their dishes. Ethan thanked Maude and gestured to Lydia. They’d finish dinner upstairs as a couple. It was time for a debriefing.

  Ethan shut the doors of the master suite and made certain the baby monitor was powered off. He even took pains to hide it in the walk-in closet.

  “Where do you want me to start,” he said as he sat on the floor beside his birthday bride.

  “Just begin. I’ll ask questions as we go.”

  Ethan chomped three bites of shepherd’s pie before gathering his thoughts. “Obviously they’ve released Charles. They didn’t have enough to charge him. Calvin kind of jumped the gun on that one. The police only wanted to talk to him. Charles went willingly.”

  “That’s understandable,” Lydia said.

  “His deep disdain for Vikki was very well known. The biggest source for motive spurs from angry text messages between him and Vikki,” said Ethan.

  “She kicked him out of the house,” the couple said.

  “Why?” Lydia asked.

  “I hoped you would have found that out. Both Harrison and Charles are hushed about it.”

  “Is that the cause of the rift?”

  Ethan shook his head. “It gets more complex.” Ethan took Lydia’s hands in his own. “But that’s not what I need to tell you. Asthon PD let Charles go because they have a new suspect. And he’s hanging out downstairs, right now.” Lydia’s mind flitted to her brother. Fists pummeled the bedroom door, interrupting Ethan’s disclosure. “Pray,” he said.

  Ethan opened the door, and Ivy rushed inside, with Scout on her hip. “Hurry, they’re taking Scooby.”

  Lydia and Ethan exchanged knowing expressions and followed Ivy back downstairs.

  MAUDE SAT IN THE CENTER of the living room rug. Eden, Eloise, and Jess encircled her. Their little hands offered gentle solace for the near stranger.

  Maude didn’t shake when she cried. She simply allowed the tears to roll unhindered and without wailing. Lydia’s gut wrenched. This new acquaintance had a tender heart. Lydia hated watching it break.

  Ethan didn’t bother offering Maude a consoling smile. He hustled toward the rain-soaked activity. Standing near Kevin and Thaddeus, he watched the police question Santi and Scooby.

  Every word Scooby spoke launched him further into a pit of inquiry. Finally, Santi cautioned Scooby. He saw explaining was useless. There was no avoiding a trip to Ashton PD.

  Harrison stalked the courtyard in a rage. He cast seething looks toward Santi and his young friend. Ethan hadn’t seen Harrison acting so angry when Charles was being questioned. Then again, it was always easier to blame a stranger for a wrong committed than it was to admit a loved one isn’t without flaws.

  Ethan would check on Harrison, he reasoned, after Santi and Scooby left the courtyard. In the meantime, Ethan listened and waited.

  Lydia cornered Charles and Calvin on the back patio. She wanted as much information about the day as possible. Both young men cast guilty glances toward their aunt. It reminded Lydia of when they were much smaller and up to no good. The boys hushed. Lydia folded her arms against her chest.

  “You know I can help, right? Or at least, I’ll try to,” Lydia said.

  Charles and Calvin nodded. Charles spoke for the team, “Not now. The pressure is off. For me anyway.” Lydia caught the awkward pause in Charles’s refusal of her assistance. Calvin squirmed in his chair.

  “You mean, now that the police are questioning Scooby, you figure you’re in the clear?” Lydia asked.

  “What else would I mean?” Charles avoided connecting with Lydia or Calvin. He averted his eyes whenever she sought them out. Lydia was about to scold Charles when Kat called her.

  “Maude needs you,” Kat said.

  Lydia was more than torn. She wanted to comfort and support Maude. Meanwhile, her nephews were freed from suspicion. She longed to lunge into a full force investigation. However, she was afraid of what her digging might upturn.

  How entrenched in this mess were Calvin and Charles? Lydia didn’t think either was capable of murder. Until someone started talking to her, Lydia had very little to go on.

  On the other hand, Maude was willing to talk. She wanted help. Just as Lydia believed in her nephews, Maude believed in Scooby. Then again, if Scooby was responsible for anything regarding Vikki’s death Lydia risked her relationship with Harrison if she came to his aid.

  Lydia prayed as she walked. In the ten steps she took to the living room, she begged God to amplify her clarity and give her discernment. More than ever, she needed his guidance and support.

  Maude was on the couch. Ivy and Joan had whisked the little girls to their room and were watching a cartoon with them. Sam and Ever were with their father’s in the Brandes bedroom playing Risk. That left Lydia, Kat, Flora, Dave, and Maude in the small living room.

  Flora held Maude’s hand. “He couldn’t have done this,” Maude kept saying.

  Dave grunted. Lydia couldn’t make out what he was thinking. Just the night before, she’d witnessed Dave berate and humiliate Scooby outside the Con Fuego kitchen. Was he suddenly harboring compassion for his young coworker? Lydia didn’t think so. She sat beside Maude and listened.

  Flora asked gentle and kind questions of Maude. “How long has Scooby lived with you and Santi?”

  Maude’s breath puffed with emotion. Her hands trembled as she wiped tears from her cheeks. “Two years,” she said. “We bumped into Scooby at Stefan’s old restaurant.”

  “He worked for Stefan?” Flora asked. Maude shook her head.

  Dave offered the information. “He was a street kid. Stefan gave him leftovers on a regular basis.”

  “That’s nice,” Flora said.

  Dave growled. “Except if you feed the wildlife, they just keep coming back.”

  Maude stopped cryi
ng and shot Dave a reprimanding look. “Don’t start,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” Dave said, shame smattering his expression. “I didn’t...”

  “I know. I know.” Maude shut down Dave’s apology.

  Lydia got the impression Maude and Dave repeated this conversation on a regular basis. She didn’t like Dave’s tone. There must have been an undercurrent of past circumstances clouding Dave’s words. However, she couldn’t relate to anyone being so rude to a fellow human being. Dave wasn’t able to contain his inner bitterness. He spewed it at random. Maude must be used to his triggers, Lydia thought.

  Kat cringed at Dave’s coolness and watched Lydia do the same. “Is there some issue with Scooby?” Kat asked.

  Dave grunted. “Not that I’m allowed to talk about it in front of the boss.”

  “Thank you, Dave,” Maude said without sarcasm. Dave raised bewildered arms in the air and dropped them to his side, gruffly. Maude didn’t grace him with her attention. She treated him as if he were a spoiled toddler and ignored his tantrum.

  “I guess that means I should go,” Dave said.

  “That’s probably best,” Maude replied. “I’ll text you when they reopen the restaurant.”

  “Gotcha,” Dave said. “Thanks for letting me hang out for a bit.” He waved to the women and left without slamming the door.

  Maude’s natural breathing returned once Dave left the townhouse. Lydia wondered why she kept Dave on if he made Maude so uncomfortable.

  “He’s not always like that,” Maude said, answering Lydia’s unspoken questions. “He’s jealous. Scooby and Dave have had similar pasts. Dave clawed his way to where he is.”

  “And he feels like you’re giving Scooby a free ride,” Kat said.

  “Something like that,” Maude agreed. “Santi’s taken Scooby under his wing. He’s teaching him how to cook and how to run the kitchen. Dave’s been begging for that kind of attention. But he simply doesn’t have the patience for line work. Occasionally, on slow nights, we let him expedite. We want him to get the feel of the kitchen. But he’s yet to complete a shift without incident. He takes everything personally. It dampens his chances of going further than the bartender at Con Fuego.”

  “That and Scooby lives with you guys. So he’s bound to get more one on one attention and instruction. Just because he’s with you all the time.” Lydia pondered.

  “Exactly,” Maude said. “In fact, Scooby made the pie tonight. Start to finish. Santi just talked him through each step.” Maude beamed with pride. “It’s a simple dish but easy to destroy. Still, Dave takes it as an affront to his seniority, for Santi to help Scooby with anything.”

  “That’s too bad,” Flora said.

  “Yes, but understandable. With their pasts, it’s easy for them to assume abandonment is always lurking around the corner,” Maude said.

  “Do you know much about Dave’s past?” Lydia asked.

  Maude shook her head. “Only the fragments he lets slip now and then.”

  “What about Scooby’s?” Lydia asked.

  Maude’s eyes watered again. “He’s much more open. Sometimes, it’s too much to bear.”

  Chapter 18

  IVY AND JOAN SLEPT surrounded by little girls. Ivy was sprawled on the bed with Scout next to her and Eden curled up at her feet. Joan lay in a crumpled mass on the floor between the bed and closet. Jess slept to her right and Eloise to her left. The night’s movie ended long ago. The Main Menu screen flushed the room in flickering blue light and white noise.

  When Ivy started crying, Joan opened one eye. Her arms were pinned beneath the tween and teen that snoozed beside her.

  “Ivy?” Joan kept her voice low. She wished she had her phone. Joan wasn’t certain that Ivy believed she was wailing in her sleep. If Joan recorded it there would be no questioning the occurrence. Hopefully, Ivy wouldn’t get any louder. Joan wasn’t sure how to wake Ivy without scaring the other girls. She didn’t want the little girls to start screaming and running through the house, awakening the entire crew.

  Joan had seen girls weep in their sleep before. Living at an African orphanage had taught her just how protected she had been as a girl. It was a revelation she gave thanks for every day. The little girls Joan comforted had oftentimes been sold by their families to pay the bills. They were girls without worth and had been treated deplorably. Joan wept and listened to them.

  At first, through a translator, Joan had remained able to distance herself from their trauma. But as the language and slang made its way from her head to her heart, so did the girls’ stories. Their nightmares weren’t mere fantasies to be rationalized away. They were often realistic replays of their past lives. Joan had been shattered by their stories and rebuilt by their testimonies.

  The same look on Ivy’s face often took up residence on the faces of the girls Joan comforted in Africa. Joan also recognized it in Scooby’s crooked smile. She wished Ivy would trust her. Joan longed to see her sister/friend live in the freedom Christ had to offer her. Freedom not only from her sin but from the resurrection of her past.

  When Ivy stirred again, Joan didn’t know what else to do. She started singing, very softly. Her mother always sang to her when she was sad or scared. Lydia’s voice wasn’t the most melodic, but the faith leading her notes never ceased to ease Joan’s worried heart. The girl hoped her voice could offer her friend the same comfort. Jess and Eloise snuggled closer to Joan as she sang until Ivy’s moaning stopped.

  UPSTAIRS, LYDIA AND Ethan awoke at the same time. Neither slept well. They rolled into each other, face to face, eyes wide open. “Well?” Ethan said.

  “I brought a carafe of coffee up to bed with us. Maybe it’s still warm,” Lydia said.

  Ethan’s eyebrows arched and his lip curled in contemplation. “Why not,” he said. He arose and tugged on a jacket. Lydia draped herself in the bedspread. They retreated to the balcony.

  Lydia brought the double-walled carafe with the lukewarm coffee. The couple passed it back and forth between them as they spoke.

  “Tell me what happened with Charles,” Lydia started. She had the least information and the most questions.

  Ethan swallowed and shivered. “He refused help. I sat there while they questioned him. It was just basic stuff.”

  “Where was Harrison?”

  “Charles didn’t want him in the room.”

  Lydia blinked. “Why not?”

  Ethan heaved with the heaviness of his thoughts. “Because Vikki Winters was not the woman your brother thought she was.”

  “That bad,” Lydia imagined the woman’s hidden darkness.

  “Worse.” Ethan’s voice flamed with anger. Lydia shivered. She took Ethan’s hands in hers. Whatever Vikki had done had Ethan fighting to remain compassionate. “We better pray,” he said.

  “We’ll do that right now. And tomorrow, we need to talk with Calvin.”

  Chapter 19

  MAUDE TEXTED LYDIA with the news of Scooby’s release near daybreak. Ashton didn’t have enough on Scooby to do more than question him. Just as they’d questioned Charles. They had both handled Vikki’s coffee. Lydia could see Charles’ motives. But what were Scooby’s?

  Maude informed Lydia that the police were allowing people back into Con Fuego. Lydia and her guests could collect their possessions. It would be a great opportunity to talk with Maude. There had to be more to the story than two young men mixed up with a flashy older woman.

  Kat and Flora accompanied Lydia to Con Fuego. The men watched the children with the help of Ivy and Joan.

  Maude met them at the back door. Her smile was thin and anxious as she let them inside. Crime scene markers polka-dotted the restaurant.

  Lydia’s breath seized when she rounded the corner and came face to face with the place Vikki had died. Little yellow triangles and thin tape roped off the area. Dave hovered close by, cleaning only the small section that the police had deemed safe for him to touch.

  “It’s so ugly,” Maude said. “My beautifu
l restaurant has lost all its homey appeal. It doesn’t feel like it will ever be the same again. I’m not sure I have enough love left in me to pour into it.”

  “I doubt that,” Lydia said.

  “Do the police know how Vikki died?” Flora asked as she stared at the couch.

  “She was poisoned.” Maude choked on the words.

  Dave passed the ladies. “The police said it was in something she ate,” he said as he carted the trash out to the cans.

  “But we all ate the same thing,” Kat said.

  Maude led the group to the patio. The decorations lingered there in suspended time. The fireplace was sooty, and the smell of cold ash replaced the fragrance of rich desserts and coffee. Maude helped herself to a chair and rested her head in her hands. She trembled with tears.

  Flora and Kat sat beside her. Lydia paced, catching the eye of Stefan as he passed the patio. She waved. Stefan smiled but only out of polite habit. He was devastated by the restaurant’s new aura.

  “He’s lost a restaurant before,” Maude said, catching Lydia’s train of thought. “He’s terrified Santi and I will lose Con Fuego.”

  “Does that make him a wise choice for the manager? I mean losing a restaurant of his own?” Kat asked.

  Maude mock laughed. “He’s loyal to me and to Santi. Stefan loves the rush of turning tables and greeting guests. I think he’s found his niche. He has most of the benefits of running a restaurant without the biggest bit of responsibility. He’s great at what he does, and he’s content.”

  “Unlike the Skies? They’ve clung to their past and he’s moved on,” Flora stated.

  Maude shrugged. “I guess you can say that.” She shifted the leftover table linens to the side and stroked the ruddy grooves of the reclaimed wood tables.

  “Dave mentioned they’ve tried to close you down?” Kat asked.

  Maude nodded. “A few times, yes.”

  Lydia sorted through the room's coats and gift bags, as she listened. Flora and Kat were doing a wonderful job asking casual questions. “How did they do that?” Flora asked.