Without any real inkling of how I might actually pull that off, I let the production assistant know I was as ready as I was going to be for our Family Sleuthing Strategy Conversation. Which was to say, not very. While he went to round them up and the cameraman took a fifteen-minute break, I quickly created a real file of potentially important details that should have been entitled SUSPICIOUS STUFF, but I hid it under the benign heading SHOPPING TIPS 101:
Alejandro’s sudden and prominent appearance at the beginning of the shoot.
His unexpected flirtation and notes—where they were left, who did and didn’t find them, and the means by which they were delivered.
Suspicious behavior: Anastasia/Geo/Crew
The convenient timing of Alejandro’s death, i.e., moments before he’d requested we meet.
Investigation resolved very quickly and determined to be an accident by police despite suspicious circumstances. Why?
Sombrero Lady and her warning.
Funeral scheduled even more quickly. Why?
The sudden parade of naysayers and people with potential motive.
Shooting schedule extended and budget increased with a single phone call to execs about an “accidental” death.
Just before everyone returned, I wrote To Be Continued at the bottom of the spreadsheet, saved and closed it, and was preparing to wing a family plan for how best to proceed.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to.
“Okay,” Geo said, handing me piece of paper, “I’ve taken the liberty of prioritizing people for questioning, noted who I think should question them, and wrote some questions for you five to discuss.”
Unsurprisingly, his handwritten Persons of Interest list and his list of questions pretty much matched the spreadsheet I’d already created. As did most of the questions he wanted us to ask:
1. What was the story surrounding the Elena, Alejandro, and Enrique?
2. What was truth behind Alejandro’s drinking?
3. How did a champion swimmer simply drown?
Missing was my number-three question, for which Geo claimed he was having someone else do the legwork: Who was Sombrero Lady and how did she know what she said she knew?
And the all-important final question:
4. Why didn’t anyone care to question further what happened?
The answer, I feared, was going to be more complicated than even my most crowded price and sales spreadsheet.
fifteen
“Ready to start reeling in the big fish before we head off to the water park?” Geo asked the next morning, handing me a call sheet so jam-packed, the only thing missing was a spare moment for me to try and actually figure out what was so fishy.
I calmed the swarm of butterflies fluttering from my stomach toward my throat by reassuring myself that we wouldn’t be doing anything more than following a carefully choreographed script in which we would simply be playing our assigned roles to no specific outcome other than our safe return home.
As in, I’m not really a sleuth, I just play one on TV.
Frank scanned his copy of the call sheet. “Enrique, huh?”
“He’s in the lobby,” Geo said, confirming my working theory that much more. “Waiting for you.”
“And willing to answer questions?” I asked.
“Eager, actually,” Geo said.
“Let’s get rolling,” Frank said, heading for the door of our suite.
The understanding the two of us had hammered out from opposite sides of our pillow barrier—that Frank would provide a distraction whenever possible in order for me to find out whatever needed finding out—seemed only to extend to the neon green swim trunks and oddly coordinating Hawaiian shirt he’d decided to wear to the water park.
“I thought we didn’t have to do anything until breakfast,” Trent said, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
“I only need Maddie and Frank right now.”
“Good, because I’m not even close to ready yet,” Eloise said, holding up two tiny bikinis.
“The blue one with the fringe,” the makeup artist said. “It matches your eyes.”
“And we definitely want all of you looking and feeling your best today.” Geo smiled his smarmy smile. “It’s gonna be a long day.”
“You watch—first we’ll talk to Enrique and then, suddenly, Elena will show up,” I said to Frank as we made our way down the corridor toward the elevators. “And then—”
“Señor y Señora Frugalicious!” Zelda, the housekeeping manager, appeared beside her cleaning cart in the hallway and hurried toward us.
“Or Zelda will turn up first,” I whispered.
“You’re way overthinking this,” Frank said. “The cameras aren’t even on us yet.”
“Are you sure about that?” I asked glancing up at a strategically positioned security camera.
“Gracias,” Zelda said, making her way over.
“You’re welcome,” Frank said, assuming, I presumed, that she was thanking us for the tip22 we left on the nightstand every morning since we’d arrived in Mexico.
He gave me an I told you so look.
“Señor Alejandro, he not supposed to be dead,” she whispered breathlessly. “Not his time yet.”
I gave Frank a return I told YOU so.
“You figure out why, no?” she asked.
Frank nodded. “We are.”
“Gracias,” she said again.
“Es no problemo,” Frank said. “But—”
“But how did you know we’re looking into things?” I asked.
She looked at me blankly as though she didn’t understand a word I’d said.
“¡Ten cuidado!” she said instead.
“Zelda is dramatic and more than a little superstitious,” Enrique said, as we made our way across the lobby toward a set of chocolate brown leather couches where Geo and the crew awaited our arrival. “It’s just her way.”
“How did she know we were looking into things in the first place?” I asked.
“We informed a few key employees so they can keep an eye out for you and your family.”
“Do you feel we’re in danger?” I asked as we were seated across from him.
“Not at all,” he said with an uneasy smile. “But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t anticipate anything and everything in order to ensure your safety.”
“Never mind my sanity,” Geo said, looking at his watch and shaking his head. “Let’s get rolling. We’re already behind schedule.”
The next thing I knew, Frank was reciting his first line: “Who do you think could have wanted Alejandro dead?”
“I spent all night awake asking myself the same question,” Enrique answered, as prompted.
While he did look tired around the eyes, he’d clearly spent some of his awake time making sure his peach polo was perfectly pressed, his tan slacks creased, and his hair perfectly coiffed for his morning close-up.
“And?” I asked.
“And I honestly can’t think of any one particular person.”
“But you agree that Alejandro’s death is suspicious?”
“The authorities think otherwise,” Enrique said. “And that is enough for me.”
“Why would the police so quickly determine the death to be an accident, do you think?”
“One doesn’t question those sorts of things around here,” he said.
“Was it true that Alejandro was a strong swimmer?”
“Very.”
“And drank in moderation?”
“In recent years, yes.”
“But not always?”
Enrique sighed. “I think it’s fair to say that Alejandro was a man who enjoyed the good life.”
“We were told that you and Elena—” Frank said.
“Grew up together.” Enrique, who’d maintained perfect on-camera composure so far, looked down and away. “But it was always a given that she’d marry Alejandro.”
“I apologize for my frankness,” I said sincerely, despite the fact that Fra
nk had ad libbed the awkward line, not me. “How was your relationship with Alejandro?”
“I loved him like family,” he said a little quickly and without a cue card.
I decided that persistence was the only way we were going to get anything useful from the polished general manager. “Even though you were in love with Elena?”
“We both wanted her to be happy,” he said.
“How is she doing?” I asked.
“As well as can be expected.”
“I can’t imagine,” I said.
But, as I’d predicted, Elena suddenly appeared from behind the French doors leading to the corporate offices. She managed a decent approximation of looking surprised to find us in the lobby. Unlike the well-groomed Enrique, and in spite of her own usually impeccable presentation, her hair was in an unkempt bun and her uniform showed several wrinkles.
“I told her to take off as long as she needed to get her feet back under her, but she insisted on coming in to finalize details for the four weddings we have scheduled for this week,” Enrique said quickly. He stood to greet her as she came over and joined our private conversation.
As they hugged, he whispered something in her ear in Spanish far too rapidly to even attempt to translate. She nodded in response, seemed to steel herself, and joined him on the couch to play her part in our noncandid interview.
“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Frank said.
“Thank you,” she said in a barely audible whisper.
“I apologize for having to ask, but do you have any reason to believe there’s more to Alejandro’s passing than an accidental drowning?” I recited from my cue card, starting to feel more and more like a broken record.
“There couldn’t be,” she said and began to weep.
Enrique reached into his pocket, pulled out a tissue, and looked into her eyes as he lovingly dabbed the tears that had begun to drip down her cheeks.
“Who would want to kill Alejandro, of all people?” she whispered.
“Cut,” Geo said. “Perfect.”
“Señor Enrique,” a front desk clerk said, appearing from behind the camera crew. “We have an issue that needs your immediate attention.”
“And I’m late for a meeting with the florist,” Elena said.
And in perfect suspicious fashion, they both disappeared.
“Really, the police didn’t do much of any investigating at all,” FJ said as the camera, situated on the opposite side of the buffet line, recorded us reciting our lines and filling our plates with the various fruits that would comprise our custom-blended breakfast smoothies. “What do you think that’s all about?”
“I’ve asked a couple of Philip’s officer buddies to sniff around down at the local police station,” Frank said as though he, and not Anastasia, actually had done the asking.
“It’ll be interesting to see what they find out,” I said, confident we’d find out little or nothing.
“I hope they don’t find anything out too quickly,” Trent said, setting down a full plate and a Jell-O parfait from the main buffet before picking up a bowl to fill with fruit. “I mean, there’s like a month of cool stuff to do down here.”
“Need I remind you we’re not down here just to frolic in the sun?”
“Sleuthing in the sand and surf,” FJ said, delivering his line with a chuckle.
“Let’s not forget someone has not only died, but was possibly murdered,” Frank said.
“Was definitely murdered,” Eloise said, “according to the Sombrero Lady.”
“We need to find her,” FJ said.
“In the meantime, we have Zelda, the head of housekeeping, who seemed to think so too,” Frank said.
“What does Enrique think?” one of the kids asked, reading off a cue card that had just popped up.
“Neither he nor Elena are convinced there’s anything more to it,” I answered.
“She was concerned, though,” Frank said.
“She’s just really rattled by Alejandro’s death,” I said, not wanting to worry the kids. I gave Frank a look that said Cool it.
“Which is why we’ll do what we can to shed light on what really happened before we leave,” Frank added, not getting my drift.
“I mean, champion swimmers don’t usually drown,” Trent said, filling his entire bowl with bananas. “That’s for sure.”
“Anyone can drown if they’ve had too much to drink,” I said, watching him soak the bananas in chocolate sauce. At least the murder talk wasn’t affecting his teenage-boy appetite.
“But he didn’t drink,” FJ said, handing his own bowl and a glass of orange juice to the young man working the blender. “Right?”
“According to Enrique, he may have had a bit of a battle with the bottle,” I said, over the whir of ice and fresh fruit.
“Seriously?” Eloise sniffed as Trent added peanut butter, chocolate chips, and heaven knew what else to his chocolate-covered-banana bowl.
“Are you talking about Alejandro’s drinking problem?” Trent asked.
“I was referring to your breakfast, you idiot,” Eloise wrinkled her nose. “It’s supposed to be a healthy fruit smoothie, not a liquid banana split. How can you eat that at eight in the morning?”
“I need energy for the water park.”
Behind us, the doors to the kitchen swung open and Chef Benito appeared. He barked an angry command in Spanish to a group of waiters, motioned one of them to follow him, and disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Well, Benito thinks something’s not right,” Trent said.
“Benito’s never happy,” the smoothie guy said shaking his head as he accepted Trent’s concoction. “But he’d love this smoothie you’ve created.”
“Ha!” Trent said, sticking his tongue out at Eloise.
“It’ll definitely give you energy.” The smoothie guy smiled. “Hopefully enough even to keep you away from the sharks.”
“There is little to no risk of encountering a shark,” Jorge, the concierge, said as everyone (except Geo and the camera crew who’d gone ahead of us to get set up) began to gather in the front lobby.
“I’m staying in the water park part,” Eloise said.
“It’s an eco water park, Einstein,” FJ said. “It’s all ocean.”
Eloise’s already big blue eyes grew huge. “Seriously?”
“There aren’t any slides?” Trent asked.
“I think you’ll find plenty to keep you occupied.” Jorge surveyed the group, which included not only our family and most of the wedding party, but a number of other hotel guests. “Señores and Señoras.” He whistled and waved his hands. “Before the bus arrives to take you to the water park, I’d like to make a few announcements.” He waited for everyone to quiet down. “First, please check that you have your printed proof of purchase for your park admission.”
Everyone began to dig through their bags.
“Today you will experience a very unique aquatic park. You will be swimming and snorkeling in a natural inlet, a warm mix of salt and fresh water. The inlet is filled with unique tropical fish and flora. Research is being constantly carried out to learn more about marine life and ecological maintenance of the native species. There is also the opportunity to swim with dolphins.”
“Ooh!” said Body, who was draped over Dave the groomsman. “I love dolphins!”
“Most of you look to be wearing comfortable attire,23 but does everyone have their bathing suit, extra clothes, and natural sunscreen?”
“Natural sunscreen?” asked Face, who was showing a lot more body than anyone else in a sheer cover-up over some sort of iridescent bikini.
“To maintain the ecological balance, the only sunscreens allowed are those that are free of environmental pollutants.”
“But how do we—?”
“There are a number of different varieties available in our gift shop. You may also trade your bottle for the chemical-free sunscreen at the water park for a small charge per person and trade back as you leave for th
e day.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Liam said.
“Really cool,” FJ agreed.
Frank sighed under his breath. I was already wondering if it would be better to buy a bottle for the family to share or “rent” sunscreen for the day. It would depend on the per-person charge, the price per bottle, and how often we’d need to apply it throughout the day …
“Also be sure to bring credit cards or cash with you to buy souvenirs, purchase optional activities, or buy the photos from your visit.”
“What about snacks and lunch?” Hair’s husband asked.
“The lunch buffet is open from eleven thirty until closing and is included in your admission, along with snorkeling gear, floating tires, and life jackets for those of you who want to wear them.”
“That sounds a lot less relaxing than I expected,” someone said.
“There are also plenty of hammocks and deck chairs.”
“Sweet!”
“Ummm …” Eloise said, “what about the sharks?”
“Rest assured, everyone,” Jorge said as the word sharks echoed ominously through the lobby, “an underwater fence extends across the inlet entrance, so you’re perfectly safe from seafaring predators.”
As the tour bus pulled up with a squeal and a hydraulic hiss, I couldn’t help but notice his emphasis was on the word seafaring.
Sensing an opportunity to ask a question or two without a camera or crew around to eavesdrop, I hung back while my family got in line to board the bus.
“So you’re saying we should be more worried about creatures roaming the land?” I asked Jorge.
“There is abundant wildlife to spot along the trails surrounding the water park, but I’ve never heard of a guest encountering anything dangerous.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Jorge, despite his superior command of the English language, gave me a look of incomprehension nearly identical to Zelda’s.
“Jorge,” I asked,“do you think Alejandro’s death was—”
“A tragic accident,” he said, both loudly and emphatically.
“Tragic for sure, but there are a few people who seem to believe it might not have been an accident,” I whispered back.
Sweetheart Deal Page 10