Cappuccino Twist

Home > Mystery > Cappuccino Twist > Page 7
Cappuccino Twist Page 7

by Anisa Claire West


  “I see. And what was your grandmother’s first name?” The detective probed as my impatience skyrocketed.

  “Margarita,” I said tightly, daring him with dagger-spewing eyes to just try and accuse my Nana of any misdeed.

  “I’m not accusing your grandmother of anything, Señorita Falcon.” He accurately read my eyes. “Please don’t misunderstand. In fact, it’s someone in the generation between you and your grandmother that I’m concerned with here. But not as a suspect. As another victim,” the detective replied cryptically as I felt a small measure of relief to know that no one in my family was under suspicion. But what was he talking about, the generation between my grandmother and me?

  “I’m not following you at all,” I said as a vein pulsed in my jaw.

  “In March of 1992, a woman by the name of Angelita Falcon disappeared in Barcelona. She was officially declared dead more than a decade ago, but no remains have ever been found, and we’ve never been able to reach her family.”

  Gut clenching nausea swirled around in my stomach as I whispered, “Angelita Falcon? She was my mother.”

  Chapter 11

  Tears flooded my eyes as Detective Mendez quickly handed me a tissue. “That’s what I was afraid of,” he said quietly.

  “But I don’t understand! My mother abandoned me when I was 7 years old! I never knew she came to Barcelona. My grandmother never told me anything about that.” I felt my entire world and security crash down in pointy shards of glass all around me, digging cruelly into the center of my heart.

  “And you’re 29 now?” The detective figured. “That would match up with the timeline of Angelita’s disappearance.”

  Wiping my eyes dry, I tried desperately to come up with an explanation for why my mother would have traveled to Barcelona alone…and why my grandmother had never told me. Maybe my mother had come to solve Aunt Silvia’s murder just like I was doing? And maybe she hadn’t told my grandmother because she knew her plan would be met with disapproval. Utterly disillusioned, I vaguely watched as the detective reopened the file folder.

  “I know this is very emotional for you. And a huge shock. But would you like me to tell you what else I found? Angelita’s disappearance is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “I’m listening,” I heard myself say, still lost in my inner world and feeling like an abandoned child all over again. For my entire life, I had believed that my mother had walked out to start a new life without the burden of a daughter. It was crushing to think how my mother might actually have wanted me and was stolen from me.

  “Alright. Let me just start by saying that I don’t know how all this was kept under the radar all these years. But if any of the police officers who worked here decades ago hadn’t retired, they’d be fired and hauled to the curb.” Anger flared in Detective Mendez’s eyes.

  “What do you mean? Has there been some sort of cover up?”

  “I have reason to believe there has. And I have reason to believe that Jorge Canton’s money paid for it.”

  “Please. Just start from the beginning. I’m not understanding any of this.” Suddenly, the pressing issue was no longer learning who had killed Aunt Silvia. I wanted to know what happened to my mother.

  Detective Mendez took a big gulp from the coffee mug set in front of him. Exhaling thickly, he began the story. “According to the file I have here, Angelita Falcon was last seen with Jorge Canton, Jr. Ironically, they were spotted having coffee together at Dario’s Cappuccino Boutique.”

  My blood boiled at the detective word’s, and I knew he was only just warming up. I wasn’t sure if I could contain my fury until he reached the end of his story. Then, I remembered Dario’s offhanded comments to me when he hired me to work in his shop. You look kind of familiar. Have I seen your face before? Sadly, I realized that he must have seen my mother all those years ago and her face had remained etched in his memory. “Go on,” I gritted, sickened to think of my mother interacting with Reptile Eyes or Dario.

  “For some reason---again, I’m guessing because of a shady payoff---that part of the story ends there. No one pursued your mother’s disappearance, unfortunately. The missing persons report was typed up in a hurry and the case was sealed within a week of her vanishing.” Detective Mendez’s weathered features contorted as he conveyed the injustice of it all.

  “Okay, let me get this straight. A beautiful young woman vanishes in Barcelona. There are witnesses who actually saw her with a man who has been positively identified. And then the case just goes cold? Was Jorge Canton, Jr. ever even questioned?” I demanded, already starting to piece the puzzle together in my head.

  My mother must have come to Barcelona to search for clues in Aunt Silvia’s murder. Reptile Eyes had probably noticed the family resemblance---just as he had with me---and then killed my mother. But why would he kill my mother? Only if someone in his family had been responsible for Aunt Silvia’s death. My guess is that the perpetrator was his father. Junior likely knew that his father had committed the crime and was trying to protect him. My mother’s presence in Barcelona was a threat to the Canton family’s wealth, prestige, and freedom. Snuffing her life out had bought Jorge Canton, Sr. freedom until he died of natural causes as an elderly man.

  My poor grandmother probably never even knew that my mother had come to Spain and wrongly assumed that she abandoned me. But why would she jump to that conclusion? That part didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t she have filed a missing persons case in New York? Gaping holes still left the puzzle unresolved.

  “Unfortunately, that’s correct. The case went by the wayside. But Jorge Canton, Jr. isn’t going to walk free for much longer, I wager. As of this moment, there are officers at his mansion conducting an interview. And the police department has obtained an emergency search warrant to comb through his entire estate.” Detective Mendez took another thirsty gulp of coffee and pointed to his mug. “I don’t care how many cups of coffee I need to drink to see this case through to arrest. I’m not going to let two women’s deaths go unpunished.” A deep craving for justice was evident in the detective’s impassioned features and voice. My confidence in the man was effectively restored, and I believed with every fiber of my being that he would solve both crimes or die trying.

  “I just don’t understand why my grandmother thought my mother abandoned me. Are you telling me that no one ever contacted my grandmother in the United States?” I asked, haunted by the idea that my grandmother could have let her only daughter go so easily.

  “Your grandmother, Margarita, was given misinformation. Basically, she was lied to. According to this file, it says that your mother made a phone call to her family in New York stating that she was moving in with a man she had met in Spain.”

  “What?! That can’t be true!”

  “I don’t think so either. My guess is that it’s part of the cover-up. The phone call could have been made by your mother under duress. Or it could have been made by a woman posing as your mother. Who knows what kind of phone connection they had across the Atlantic? Your grandmother might have thought she was speaking with her daughter when in fact she was being tricked,” Detective Mendez laid out his theories that seemed completely logical to me.

  “So my grandmother was lied to? She was made to believe that my mother had met some random guy, fallen in love, and abandoned us forever?” I shook my head despairingly, half sad for how my grandmother had been deceived and half furious with her for being so gullible.

  “Listen, I’ve just given you an earful. Why don’t you go back to your hotel and rest a little? I won’t be going home tonight. I have a lot of work to do. But you shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. I’ll get you a taxi so you can just rest,” Detective Mendez offered gently as tears cascaded from my eyes.

  As I was mulling over his fatherly recommendation for me to go rest in my room, a cell phone ringing made me jump. But it wasn’t my cell phone. “What the hell is going on?” Detective Mendez barked into his phone. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding
me! Well, who’s on it? Are there squad cars trying to catch him? Don’t you even think about letting him get away now after we’ve come so close to nailing him!” Detective Mendez huffed in exasperation as I inferred that somehow Reptile Eyes had slithered away.

  “And what about the girl?” He continued in a booming decibel. “Do you have her cornered? Oh, so she’s cooperating?” A lengthy pause followed his question. A minute later, Detective Mendez drawled, “Well good, it’s about damn time.”

  Slipping the phone into his pants pocket, he said triumphantly, “We’ve got a confession.”

  “From Jorge?” I probed.

  “No, from his daughter, Jacinta,” he replied with satisfaction.

  “Jacinta? But she’s too young to have been involved with any of this!” I had only gotten a glimpse of the woman when she wouldn’t let me into her mansion, but just from that one look I knew she couldn’t be more than my age.

  “Not too young to have written and delivered those threatening notes. Of course, all at the urging of her father,” Detective Mendez explained.

  “It was Jacinta who wrote those notes?” I marveled, sitting back in my chair.

  “Yes, she confessed to it about an hour ago. The cops had her surrounded at her palace,” he sneered. “But Jorge got away. For now.”

  “What else did she tell the cops?”

  The detective’s face morphed into somberness and compassion again. “She told them who murdered your aunt. And your mother.”

  “Who?” I whispered, although I felt almost 100% sure that Jorge, Sr. had killed my aunt and Jorge, Jr. had murdered my mother.

  “Not surprisingly, Jorge, Jr. murdered your mother. But, according to Jacinta, it was Mrs. Canton who murdered your aunt Silvia.”

  “Mrs. Canton?”

  “Yes, the wife of Jorge, Sr. Jacinta’s grandmother.”

  “So Jorge, Sr. was married at the time that he was dating my aunt?” I asked doubtfully, recalling how my grandmother had specifically designated him as Aunt Silvia’s boyfriend.

  “He was indeed married. And running around with several women. Your aunt Silvia was the unlucky one who the jealous wife found out about and subsequently murdered.” Detective Mendez poured himself another cup of coffee.

  “And he probably lied to my aunt Silvia, telling her he was single,” I surmised. “What made Jacinta reveal all this now?”

  “Who knows? A guilty conscience for keeping these filthy family secrets all these years. Or maybe fear. It’s not every day that a spoiled rich girl encounters a pair of police officers in her castle.” Detective Mendez shrugged, clearly unconcerned with how the information had been obtained. To him, and to me, the crucial detail was the fact that the information had been secured at all.

  “But what about Jorge, Jr? Do you think he could make it out of Barcelona?” I asked wearily. Nothing would gratify me more than to visit the reptile in prison and stare him down like hunted prey…the way he had made me feel.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” the detective seethed.

  “And will Jacinta be going to jail?”

  “Of course,” he replied, triumph creeping back into his voice. “She won’t serve a whole lot of time, most likely, if she cooperates with the prosecutor’s office once this mess goes to trial. But she committed more than one crime. Harassment, terrorist threats, and conspiracy for starters.”

  “Good. Let the whole family rot in jail. Except for Mrs. Canton, right? I mean, is she dead?”

  “She is dead. Unfortunately, we can’t bring her to justice, but I’ll bring her son to justice if it’s the last thing I do,” Detective Mendez swore.

  His cell phone rang again as he hastened to answer it. “Yeah? What now?”

  I sucked in a nervous breath as Detective Mendez went silent and listened to the caller. An irregular heartbeat later he murmured in a tone of pure astonishment, “Are you sure? That can’t be possible!”

  Chapter 12

  Outrage rocked the detective’s frame as he compressed his jaw and listened to whatever shocking news the caller was conveying. I looked at him, trying to read his expression like tea leaves and coming up empty. All I could discern was that he looked to be on the edge of a violent outburst.

  Still reeling from the knowledge about what happened to my mother, I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry until my tears evaporated. I felt doubly betrayed regarding my mother: first because she had been physically robbed from me and second because my memories of her had always been tainted. I had spent all of my teen years despising her and thinking she had consciously left me. If only I had known that in reality my sweet mother had been lured to her death by Reptile Eyes.

  Finally, Detective Mendez set his cell phone on the table, bolting out of his chair and pacing the room. “I can’t believe I have to give you more bad news!” he fumed.

  “Nothing could be worse than the news you’ve already given me,” I said honestly.

  Taking a seat across from me, he sighed roughly before speaking. “Jorge Canton, Jr. has just committed suicide. He drove his car into the Besós River a short while ago.” Before I had a chance to react, the detective’s phone was ringing again. Practically foaming at the mouth, he answered the call. “Yeah? What now?” He punched the table with his fist. “All I know is that there better be a body. Make sure you recover a body! I don’t want that bastard playing magician and trying to escape prosecution. Either he’s dead or he’s in prison. But he’s not going to walk the earth as a free man anymore!” Detective Mendez slammed the phone down on the table, swearing under his breath.

  “What a coward,” I whispered in disgust. “He couldn’t stand the thought of leaving his palace and going to prison, so he killed himself. What a pathetic coward.”

  “Scum of the earth,” Detective Mendez added.

  “And they haven’t recovered his body yet?”

  “They’re working on fishing his car out of the river. But his body will be in a morgue by sundown. I’ll make sure of it.” Detective Mendez jumped out of his chair and retrieved a chain of car keys from his pocket.

  “Are you going down to the river?”

  “Yes. I’m going to make sure this thing gets done right.” Shelving his fury for a moment, he put a gentle hand on my shoulder and said, “Go back to your hotel room. Like I said before, you need rest. You’re a very courageous young woman. If you hadn’t come to Barcelona, these crimes never would have been solved.”

  “I guess that’s true,” I said softly.

  “It is true. And you put your own life on the line to do it. I don’t even want to think what would have happened if Canton had gotten to you.”

  “Neither do I.” A shudder afflicted my bones.

  “Now there’s nothing else for you to do…except move on with your life. But that may be even harder than anything else you’ve done so far,” he predicted wisely.

  “That’s for sure,” I replied, standing up and strapping my purse around my shoulder. “These murders never would have been solved without you either, Detective Mendez. I’m very grateful for your help.”

  Shaking my hand warmly, he promised in an ice cold tone, “I’ll notify you when they recover the body.”

  ***

  Back at the Flores Inn, I crashed for a few mindless hours, watching TV without paying attention and nibbling on a small sandwich without really tasting it. Detective Mendez had called me shortly after I got back to my room to announce that the body had indeed been recovered and was on its way to the medical examiner for positive identification via dental records. I had thanked him again for his tenacity in the case before hanging up and trying my best to push all this morbid stuff out of my head.

  Thoughts of having breakfast with Eduardo helped to ward off my melancholy as I finally got up from the bed to pick out my clothes for the next morning. Since arriving in Barcelona, my wardrobe had consisted of nothing but drab tee-shirts and pants. For my date with Eduardo, I wanted to sparkle from the inside out,
so I selected a strapless yellow sundress with a white floral pattern. Holding the dress against my body in front of the mirror, I already felt happier. Grabbing a bottle of nail polish out of my make up bag, I painted my nails peony pink.

  As soon as the sun set, I was ready for sleep. Closing my eyes, I imagined the faces of the three women in my family smiling down on me. Vividly, I could see Nana’s sage, wrinkled visage and the smooth, forever young faces of Aunt Silvia and mama Angelita. Intuitively, I felt like they were telling me to let go. To accept that their murderers would never spend a day behind bars and find justice for them in some other way. As I drifted off to sleep, I silently promised all three beautiful ladies that I would find a way to honor their memories. Every day of my life.

  ***

  As I slipped my feet into a pair of high heel beige sandals, a knock sounded at the door. Checking the peephole just to make sure it was Eduardo, I flung the door open, ecstatic to see his handsome face in the morning.

  “Wow. You look amazing,” he marveled, looking me up and down in my yellow sundress.

  “Thank you,” I said with just the tiniest hint of shyness.

  “Hope you’re hungry for a big breakfast.” He smiled weakly at me as I knew he was under my spell. I silently vowed to permanently ditch the ugly shapeless garb and wear svelte sundresses on every future date with Eduardo.

  He clasped my hand in his as we strolled out of the Flores Inn. Rays of sunlight kissed our faces as we crossed the street to an intimate bistro on the corner. I longed to tell Eduardo everything I had learned, but I didn’t want to ruin the romantic atmosphere. Biting my lower lip, I contemplated just revealing a little bit of what had transpired. The news about my mother was far too heavy for a breakfast conversation and deserved the respect of waiting until a more appropriate time.

 

‹ Prev