The Chalupa Conundrum

by Lyle Christie

  “Are you deflecting on purpose?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine, what do we do about Lars? Wait for the authorities to arrive then tell them everything?”

  “Not without evidence. He’s the beloved local boy, and we’re outsiders. They’ll likely throw us in jail for badgering a culturally sensitive billionaire.”

  There was a knock at the door, and I could only guess who the hell it might be. It opened, and there stood Fabiana with a handful of clothes.

  “Ah, thank God! I was getting tired of standing around in this towel.”

  She noticed Estelle and looked a little uncomfortable.

  “Should I come back later?” she asked.

  “No—not at all. We were just discussing Lars and how we should proceed. Actually, you might be able to help. Do you know Lars’s whereabouts last night?”

  “Yeah, he was meeting with Arthur.”

  “Did they take any breaks that you know about? Perhaps between ten and midnight?”

  “Doubtful, as Lars tends to be very focused, but I can’t be sure, because I left them alone and went to my room. Why do you ask?”

  I realized I hadn’t told Fabiana all that had happened since we parted company back at my faculty apartment, so I therefore recounted the chain of incredible events that took place at the pyramid and how we witnessed what I believe was Lars dressed as King Chalupa as he performed some kind of sex ceremony. She was even more shocked than she had been when I told her I believed he was involved in manufacturing and testing an illegal new designer drug.

  “Well, don’t worry, I’ll ask around and get to the bottom of this. If he left, one of the security people will know.”

  “Thanks, Fabiana,” I said.

  “So, what do we do in the meantime?” Estelle asked.

  “Play it cool and pretend everything is wonderful.”

  Fabiana came over and kissed me then turned to leave but paused when she reached the door.

  “I know it’s not my place to discuss your relationship, but I do hope you can find resolution. Breakups, even after time has passed, are never easy.”

  With that final statement, she was gone, and Estelle was staring at me.

  “How much have you told her about us?”

  Not nearly as much as I told Professor Hot Sauce, but I wasn’t going to say that to Estelle.

  “A little.”

  “Well, I hate to admit it, but she seems pretty nice—for a supermodel.”

  “She is—now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get dressed.”

  “Go ahead. It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”

  “What if Thomas walks in? It’ll look a little suspicious.”

  “He’s in the shower.”

  “Oh, so your earlier fear of someone walking in on us and getting the wrong idea was total horseshit, and the actual truth is that you weren’t sure you could control yourself in the face of my engorged manhood.”

  She sighed.

  “Fine, it’s annoying but true.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, now fuck off and get dressed, because I don’t want to talk about it any longer.”

  “Good to know, now please feel free to gaze at that which you may only covet from afar for the rest of your miserable married life.”

  I dropped the towel and was just about to slide on the pants when there was another knock. Before I could respond, the door opened, and there was Professor Hot Sauce. Sweet Jesus, who wasn’t going to come through my fucking door? She walked in and paused the minute she realized I was completely nude.

  “Hello, Alessandra,” I said.

  Her eyes went from me to Estelle and back to me, or more specifically my manhood.

  “Oh sorry, am I interrupting something important?” she asked.

  “Not anymore. What did you need?”

  “I wanted to tell you that I talked to Lars.”

  “And told him what exactly?” I asked, suddenly feeling the onset of a pretty serious knot in my stomach.

  “Everything—I couldn’t hold back anymore and needed to hear the truth—directly from his mouth.”

  “Oh shit, does that include the meeting I witnessed the night I followed Wainright to his building?”

  “Yes, and he assured me that it was all just a big misunderstanding and actually laughed when I suggested that you thought he was also the guy dressed as King Chalupa.”

  “Really—and did you believe him?”

  “I did—one hundred percent. I know Lars, which means we are looking for someone else.”

  “Well, he does have an alibi for last night. Apparently, he was meeting with that Pembroke guy until two a.m., so, assuming that’s true, then he can’t be our faux King Chalupa.”

  “So, who is it?”

  “I don’t know, but there must be one hell of a misunderstanding to explain his connection to Hector.”

  “I’m sure there is.”

  We all sat in relative silence, and I realized that I still had yet to get dressed, a fact which Estelle was just noticing. A look of scorn formed on her face, which I was guessing meant that she noticed I was a little too comfortable being nude around Alessandra. People generally only felt that way when they’d already been nude together, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she was going to add my relationship with Professor Hot Sauce to the growing list of evidence that confirmed her belief that I was indeed a man-whore. Oddly, Alessandra chose that moment to steer the conversation to a new topic—namely me.

  “Estelle, I know it’s not my place to speak about the relationship you and Tag had, but I think you should know that he has been on a real emotional roller coaster in coming here, and he deserves some real sympathy for being able to accomplish all this while balancing his unresolved feelings for you.”

  If I had the ability to disappear, I would already be invisible and halfway out the door. Thank you, Alessandra Freud for twisting the knife that Estelle already plunged into my heart.

  “I appreciate you telling me—as I know Tag would never open up like that.”

  “You’re welcome, now, I’ll see you guys when you come down for dinner,” she said, before exiting the room.

  After Hot Sauce was gone, Estelle turned her penetrating gaze to me and held it until I looked over and made eye contact.

  “How many fucking people have you talked to about us?”

  “Including Bachué, three apparently—though that number will grow by at least two at your upcoming wedding.”

  “Is that your new technique? Talk about how your ex dumped you so you can get a sympathy fuck?”

  “Yeah, that or I could go away to grad school and fuck my advisor.”

  Estelle had apparently had enough, for she decided to leave, though she made sure to slam the door on her way out. It was annoying, but it at least left me with some much needed peace and quiet. I got dressed and took a seat on the bed and used the moment to absorb the last hour. Clearly, when my time came to leave this earthly existence, it would most certainly be sudden, violent, and at the hands of a woman.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The Lion's Den

  AN HOUR LATER, I made my way to the living room, and, with each step I took down the ornate staircase, my apprehension grew. I was seriously dreading seeing Lars now that Alessandra had divulged all of my suspicions. Fuck—I was a guest in his house and had more or less accused him of being a rapist and a drug dealer, which was not exactly the best way to ingratiate myself to my host. Still, I couldn’t hide in my room all night, and there was the remote chance that my suspicions, although unlikely, were legitimate.

  I reached the living room and found it to be stately in the way one would expect, considering we were basically in a Bavarian castle. The ceilings were high and vaulted and had exposed dark wooden beams while the furniture was heavy and wooden and covered in rich fabrics dominated by hues of red, green, and brown. In, on, and around all this was the entirety of the UCLA team, and they had d
rinks in their hands and were talking in various groups of two and three. Estelle saw me and gave me a reassuring nod, as she apparently understood my unease. Lars, meanwhile, was standing before his massive fireplace looking very similar to the figure in the painting on the wall behind him, and, while they both shared the same brilliant blue eyes, the subtle differences between the faces and background made me realize it must be Lars’s father Thomas Von Träger. I decided I might as well get the awkwardness out of the way and walked directly over to greet my host. He smiled sincerely and held out his hand, and we shook and shared an odd smile. The second he released his grip, a server handed me a glass of Champagne that I was guessing was Dom Perignon.

  “Tag, I imagine this must feel a little awkward, but, given the circumstances, I understand how you could have come to your conclusion. Believe me, Finn, there is much more to the story, but that discussion will have to wait for another time, for tonight we are celebrating the return of our team.”

  “So, no hard feelings?” I asked.

  “No hard feelings.”

  He raised his glass and looked around the room.

  “To everyone! Let us toast to your safe return!” he said, receiving a loud round of applause.

  Suddenly, it was a party, and I decided I might as well mingle and enjoy myself for the time being. I moved around the room and got to know some of the other members of the UCLA team, first and foremost being Linda, the earthy woman, who was now looking rather elegant in what had to have been a dress borrowed from Fabiana. Not everyone could fill or fit into that size, but Linda was doing a pretty damn good job. We talked for a bit then I moved on to the next stop on my social calendar, which was the Kissing Bandito. He was looking rather dashing in a black suit that he had paired with a light blue dress shirt that nicely brought out his eyes. He smiled when he saw me, and looking at his mouth made me wonder how many women those lips had touched. The answer I could only imagine.

  “Did you bring the Cacique Guaro?” I asked.

  “I did, but I’m waiting until after dinner before I serve it up.”

  “Have you heard about our little adventure in the pyramid yet?”

  “Yes, and honestly it’s unbelievable. I grew up beside that place, roamed the ruins every day, and never imagined there could be anything like what you discovered. Honestly, I can’t wait to see it.”

  “It is your heritage—at least half of it, anyway.”

  “Very true, my friend, and it thankfully explains your unusual night on the walk back from the lab. I knew there had to be a logical explanation.”

  “Yeah, thank God, and I mean that literally—thank you, God!” I said, casting my gaze up towards the ceiling.

  We took a moment to sip our Champagne, and my gaze fell upon Arthur, who was now chatting up Linda. I imagine he was happy to have a little downtime after spending so many hours meeting with Lars.

  “Arthur appears to be making some headway over there,” I said.

  “Yes, and I’m happy to see him enjoying himself. Lars works him pretty hard when he’s over here.”

  “Yeah, I heard they worked until two a.m. last night.”

  “Yeah, and I was at that meeting. It wasn’t fun. It started at eight in the morning, and the only break we got was from nine to a little after midnight when Lars excused himself to take an important phone call from the director of our Asian office.”

  “Three hours? Must have been a hell of a phone call.”

  “Apparently.”

  Sweet mother of goats! Lars wasn’t in the meeting while the ceremony in the pyramid was taking place, and that meant he could still be our faux King Chalupa. I needed to talk with Fabiana and Estelle, so I excused myself from the Kissing Bandito and found Estelle sitting with Thomas on one of the massive leather sofas. She had a drink in her left hand, and her right was annoyingly draped across Thomas’s lap and resting upon his far leg. That used to be my leg she would rest her hand on, and more annoying was the fact that they looked particularly happy together—at least she did until she saw the look in my eyes. I sat down beside the happy couple and leaned in so we could speak without being overheard.

  “I just learned that Lars took a break from his meeting last night.”

  “So?”

  “So, he has no alibi from nine to a little after midnight, which means he still might be our bad guy.”

  Just then, Fabiana arrived looking rather tense.

  “I have some bad news,” she said.

  “Let me guess. Lars was gone from nine to a little after midnight.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Ernesto told me he took a break from the big meeting with Arthur to answer a phone call.”

  “Yeah, well it gets worse. Carlos told me he left the estate a little after nine in his Range Rover.”

  “Fuckinzee! I knew that smug son of a bitch was full of shit,” I said.

  “What do we do?” Fabiana asked.

  Before I could answer, Alessandra appeared, and she looked particularly happy as she sipped from her glass of Champagne.

  “Why do you all look so tense? Come on, this is a party, and we should be celebrating the fact that we found the team, and we all managed to escape and get rescued!” she said.

  “Yeah, rescued and recaptured by the asshole who kidnapped everyone in the first place,” I responded.

  “I thought we had already gotten past this. Lars was here when everything happened last night, so he can’t be our bad guy.”

  “Well, he supposedly took an important call from Asia during that time, but, as it turns out, we have it from a very good source that he left the estate around nine and didn’t get back until a little after midnight.”

  “What source?”

  “Carlos.”

  Alessandra downed the rest of her Champagne and took a seat on the sofa and looked a bit conflicted.

  “Wait a minute. Why would he kidnap the team when their results were the only way for him to acquire the land?” Alessandra asked.

  “You already know that answer. It’s because their news wasn’t entirely good.”

  “It would have only been a minor setback, and kidnapping them would only serve to delay the deal even longer.”

  “She has a valid point, so there’s obviously some part of the puzzle we’re still missing. Fabiana, can you help me get into Lars’s office.”

  “As the official hostess, it would be nearly impossible for me to get away,” Fabiana said.

  “Well, then I only know of one other person here who has been in Lars’s office,” I said, as we all turned to gaze at Alessandra.

  I got the picture that Alessandra and Fabiana had never actually talked about their combined relationship with the same man, and we were suddenly in potentially uncomfortable territory.

  “What do you hope to find?” Alessandra asked a little defensively.

  “I don’t know yet, but I’ll know when I find it.”

  “I think you’re wrong,” she said.

  “Fine, but it’ll work out either way. If I’m right, we find something that proves he’s guilty, and, if you’re right, we don’t, and then you and the billionaire can live happily ever after.”

  “Or perhaps we could always wait for the police to arrive,” Estelle suggested.

  “Maybe, but we can’t be sure that Lars won’t do something drastic in the meantime.”

  “Such as?”

  “Take everyone hostage again or, even worse, try to kill us all.”

  “He’s neither a kidnapper or a killer.”

  “So, you say, but now that I think about it, I remember Lars looking a little uncomfortable when Ernesto said he had already called the authorities. I bet that fucker wasn’t planning on calling anyone.”

  “That’s just misguided speculation.”

  “Yeah, and all the more reason that should you help me get into his office, so we can settle this once and for all.”

  Just then, we heard one of Lars’s servants ringing a bell, and
all eyes turned to our host.

  “Come, everyone, it’s time for dinner!” he said.

  “Yeah, the last supper,” I mumbled quietly.

  Lars walked over and joined us and placed his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close as he spoke.

  “Tag, I really can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done. I don’t know how I can possibly ever return the favor.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Helping people is its own reward.”

  “Ridiculous! I’ll definitely think of some clever way to pay you back,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure how to take that comment, and a small part of me imagined it might include him plunging his King Chalupa scepter into my heart. Oh well, living dangerously was still living. Meanwhile, we all followed Lars into his formal dining room, which, like the rest of his estate, was spectacular. The room was large and had high open beam dark wood ceilings, though its coolest feature, in my opinion, was the fact that one of the walls was comprised entirely of French doors that opened onto a large deck which overlooked the entire valley. It was nighttime now, but the partial moon was illuminating the landscape, and I could see the Chalupa pyramid glowing in the distance. I turned my gaze back inside and regarded the massive oak table that would easily accommodate thirty people. It was already set with fine tableware and was being softly lit by four crystal chandeliers hanging over the center of the table. Everyone took a seat, and Lars’s wait staff began rolling out carts of food and served up an amazing looking dinner consisting of salad, steak, potatoes, and Swiss chard. The final touch was to fill our glasses with a lovely Casa Marín Lo Abarca Hills Pinot Noir, and if this were indeed our last meal, then Lars was at least being gracious and making it a good one. Once everyone was properly served, he stood and raised his glass.

  “As we have already toasted to your safe return, we shall now toast to the establishment of the Chalupa National Heritage site.”

  We all raised our glasses, and cheers erupted all around the room, which seemed odd considering the fact that their dig had actually uncovered a minor glitch in his plan. I suppose it was possible that glitches weren’t as difficult to deal with when you were a billionaire. Either way, I had a mission to accomplish, and so I tried to eat quickly, as I was eager to finish and get into Lars’s office. Luckily for me, everything was delicious, and I powered through, feeling ever happy to be eating something other than the rice and beans I’d had in the underground chamber earlier in the day.