Murder in Mariposa Beach

by Teresa Michael

  “Support. This is Josh, how can I help you?”

  “Josh, this is Libby Marshall at the Mariposa Café in Mariposa Beach. We got robbed last night. They pulled all the hard drives from the computers in my café. What do I need to do to get the hard drives replaced or the computers upgraded? They ransacked the place, and I can’t find any of my papers. Do I have a warranty?”

  She heard the clicking of the keyboard as he looked up her account. “You’re under warranty. We can fix the computers, but if you want to upgrade, you’ll have to talk to sales, but there’s no one in right now.”

  “Yeah, I heard about Pilar. What’s the story on that?”

  “All I know is what I’ve read in the paper,” he said.

  “What’s the official word from your company on this?”

  “Nothing. There’s no one in the office except Tech Support.”

  “No press release or anything?”

  “I have no idea what’s going on. I just hope I have a job.” Libby heard a huge sigh on the other end of the line. “Do you want me to send out a tech or not?”

  “No, not yet. I have to get this place cleaned up first. I’ll call you soon. Okay?”

  “Sure.” He clicked off.

  “So much for customer service.” Just as she tossed the phone aside, it rang. There was an unfamiliar number with a 305 area code in the Caller ID.

  “Hello. Mariposa Café.”

  “This is Javier Montoya,” said a slightly accented baritone. “Is this Libby Marshall?”

  “Yes. Have you heard from Pilar?”

  “No, unfortunately, I have not heard from my daughter,” he sighed. “I was hoping that you had. The police have not been very helpful.”

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t heard from her either. In fact, early Wednesday morning my shop was broken into and vandalized.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “A few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise okay.” Not wanting to go into any further details, she omitted the possible concussion.

  “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. Do you need protection? I can send someone to look out for you.”

  “No, thank you, Mr. Montoya. I’m fine, but do you know anything about the company that your daughter worked for?”

  “Not much. When Pilar graduated from college, she wanted to go out on her own and find her way, by herself. Her cousin, Enrique, had a friend who was looking for someone who had business and computer experience. She interviewed for the job, and they hired her. We were happy for her and glad the job was in Florida and not in California or New York or someplace far away.”

  “But you don’t know too much about the company itself or the people who are running it?”

  “Just that she was selling computer support services. Isn’t that what you bought?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I’ve been over-thinking this whole thing.”

  “I am offering a fifty thousand dollar reward for the safe return of my daughter. If you hear anything, find out anything, please let me know. I have resources. I will get my daughter back.”

  “I will, Mr. Montoya, I promise.”

  “Pilar and Tony both have spoken so highly of you. I’m sure that – ”

  “Tony?”

  “Yes, your husband is working for his uncle here in Miami. His uncle is my good friend and business partner. Tony encouraged Pilar to look you up when she got the job in Sarasota.”

  “He did, did he?”

  “Your husband says – ”

  “Ex-husband,” Libby interrupted. “Tony is my ex-husband.”

  “Yes, of course. Please let me know if you hear anything about my daughter.” Javier Montoya hung up.

  Libby leaned back in her desk chair, staring at the phone in disbelief. She laid the phone on the desk, and her head dropped into her hands. She had not heard from Tony in almost two years. He had stopped by Mariposa Beach on the way to his new job in Miami working for his Uncle Carmine, whom Libby had never trusted. Pilar had never mentioned she knew Tony, and Libby wondered why she’d never told her she knew her ex-husband. This new information gave a whole new dimension to her friendship with Pilar.

  Her heart had barely returned to normal rhythm when she heard knocking at the back door.

  “Now what?!”

  Once the neighbors saw their cars in the lot behind the café, people started dropping by, checking on them, wondering what was going, being nosy and neighborly. Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith of ‘The Company’ had stopped by earlier inquiring about the police investigation and if there was anything they could do to help her. She graciously declined and after closing the door behind them couldn’t help but giggle. She was sure those old spies were itching to be a part of whatever was going on in Mariposa Beach.

  “Detective, hello,” she said, opening the door wide enough for him to enter.

  “Good afternoon. How’s your head?”

  “The headache is still there, but it’s better.”

  Jack held up two DVD’s. “The computer guys burned the contents of your kitchen and office computers. The recipes should be intact, though not in any particular order. Apparently, the process doesn’t put the files in the same order that they extracted them.”

  “Thank you so much. How sweet of you to do this. Mimi was heartbroken about those recipes. She’ll be here soon. She just ran to the grocery store.”

  “Smells wonderful in here.”

  “We’ve been preparing the concession food for the play this weekend. Care to sample?”

  “Thanks.” He picked up a cookie and took a bite. “Still warm. These are great!”

  “You’ll never guess who I just talked to.”

  Jack shrugged his shoulder and took another bite of his cookie.

  “Javier Montoya.”

  “What did Pilar’s father say?”

  “He’s offering a fifty grand reward for information leading to her safe return.”

  Jack followed her into the office where she laid the discs on the edge of her desk. “Boy, could we put that reward to good use getting this place back together.”

  Jack stopped, his smile slowly fading. He looked at Libby, then at the laptop sitting open on the desk, and then back to her. “I’m hoping that’s a borrowed laptop.”

  “No, it’s mine.”

  “Then you didn’t comply with the search warrant?”

  “Of course we complied with the warrant.”

  “There was no laptop on the forensics list.”

  Her eyes flashed as she jerked open the desk drawer and yanked out a document. “Here’s your warrant, Detective. It refers to the computers onsite at the Mariposa Café. This – ”

  “Is a computer onsite at the café.”

  “This is my personal computer. The café doesn’t own it. I brought it from home today because my work computer is out of commission. And besides, I wasn’t even here when the officers served the warrant. I was with you. You…,” she accused, wagging her index finger at him, “…you, who said he was waiting for the judge to sign the warrant when, in fact, it was already being served.”

  “It just came through faster than I expected.”

  “Likely story.” She could feel the flush rising to her throat.

  “Time out, you two.” Mimi stood in the office doorway.

  Jack and Libby were standing almost nose to nose. They turned to look at Mimi at the same time.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  “He accused us of not complying with the warrant,” Libby said pointing at Jack. “Tell him that this computer is my personal property and is usually not at the store.”

  “That’s right. It’s her home laptop.”

  “Before today, did you ever bring it to the cafe?” He asked.

  “Well, maybe,” she said. “Occasionally, I do bring it to work.”

  “Did Pilar ever have access to this laptop, either here or at your home?”

  “Perhaps,” Libby answered. “It’s possible. She’s been at my house
a couple of times, so that means she had opportunity and access.” She threw up her hands and plopped into the chair. He was right and it left a sour taste in her mouth.

  “Detective, I believe this was an honest mistake,” Mimi said. “I was here when the warrant was served. It said the computers on site and, on that day, Libby’s laptop was not here.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I overreacted a little bit. I’ve had a really bad week, and with the call from Montoya and then this headache, I guess I’m just a little irritable,” Libby said.

  “A little?” Mimi muttered, after dealing with Libby’s crankiness all day.

  “I’m sorry.” Jack gestured toward the laptop. “Do you want me to get another warrant for that? I’d like to have computer forensics examine the hard drive.”

  “No, that’s not necessary, just add the laptop to the current warrant.” She shook her head. “Why are they stealing all the hard drives?”

  “I’ll know when the computer crimes guys find it.”

  Turning towards Mimi, Libby said, as she started to shut down the laptop, “Detective Seiler brought you these discs. They have your recipes on them.”

  “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Mimi hugged Jack, her blonde ponytail bobbing as she held him tightly. “Those recipes are priceless.”

  “My pleasure.” He patted her on the back as he looked over her shoulder at Libby.

  Libby wrapped the cord, shut the laptop and handed it to him.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking it from her. “I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Sure. My new cappuccino machine can wait another day or two.”

  “Thanks for the cookie,” he said moving towards the door.

  “Anytime,” Libby said, following him to the back door.

  Jack opened the door, and Libby followed him outside.

  “I’m sorry I flew off the handle back there,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, opening his car door. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look pale.”

  “I found something at my house this morning that has me worried.”

  “What is it?” He asked, touching her shoulder.

  She told him about finding the footprints in her backyard. “I’m probably overreacting. The old guys from ‘The Company’ could have been poking around. They were in here earlier today asking about the investigation. It’s most likely nothing more than a drunken tourist wandering into the wrong yard. There’s a lot of seasonal rentals in my neighborhood.”

  “August isn’t exactly high season. If that were to happen, it’s more likely to be in February or March or around a holiday weekend.”

  “I know. I didn’t buy that explanation either, even from myself.”

  “I’ll stop by your house and take a look. I’ll also ask the MBPD patrol to drive by regularly, especially after dark.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “In the meantime, you be careful.”

  “I put the baseball bat in the kitchen and pulled my extra gun out of the strong box.”

  When he frowned, she said, “Don’t worry, I know how to use a gun, and I have permits for both that I have.”

  “I know,” he said and smiled. “See you later. Be careful, and don’t shoot anybody.”

  “Checking me out again, huh?” She asked as he got into his car.

  He smiled and backed out of the parking spot.

  Chapter 13

  Early Friday Morning

  Company Can Be Tiresome

  Libby lay in bed and thought about everything. It was well past midnight, and she was bone tired, but her mind would not turn off. She heard each car that drove by, every barking dog and yowling cat.

  She thought about all that had happened since she pulled into Pilar’s driveway on Monday night. She thought about Richard Chen and felt bad for his parents who had so tragically lost their only child. She thought about Pilar and wondered where she was and who had her and why. She wondered what the men were looking for when they broke into the café. She thought about everything that she and Mimi had done today, and what they still had to do tomorrow and the day after that. She thought about David’s play and hoped that opening night was a hit. She wondered what, if anything, Ray-Ban may have found and reminded herself to call him in the morning. She thought about her ex-husband, Tony, and how he was connected to Pilar and wondered why Pilar had never mentioned she knew him. Her thoughts lingered on Tony and how she had once loved his smile and how she felt when he looked at her with that smile.

  Then, she thought about Detective Seiler and wondered if he had a girlfriend.

  “Do not go there,” she muttered as she turned over, repositioned the pillow and wriggled into a new position.

  It was a humid night, and she wore only a tank top and underwear. She kicked the sheet off and rolled onto her back. She heard the air conditioner kick on and hoped it would make it through the season at least until November because she couldn’t afford a new air conditioning system right now due to the repairs needed at the cafe.

  Suddenly, there was another sound that caused her to sit upright, eyes wide open.

  What was that?

  She was sure she had heard something else.

  Was it the creak on the back step? That sounds like a window breaking. Holy shit, someone’s in the house!

  She grabbed the Glock velcroed to the back of her nightstand and, then, pulled her cell phone off the charger. She glanced to her left. The bedroom door was half open. Looking to her right, she could see the dim glow from the bathroom nightlight. She covered the short distance between her bed and the master bathroom in a few steps, trying to enter the password into the phone as she ran. She closed the door as quietly as she could and locked it. She listened at the door and called for help.

  “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” The dispatcher asked.

  “There’s someone in my house,” she said just above a whisper. “I’m locked in the bathroom. I have a gun, and I will shoot him if he comes through the door.” She backed past the toilet to stand opposite the door inside the walk-in shower.

  “Ma’am, I’m dispatching officers to the scene now. Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m not hurt.”

  “Stay where you are. Leave the line open. All right?”

  “Yes.” Libby thought she heard movement on the other side of the door. “Oh my God, I think he’s in my bedroom.”

  “Stay where you are,” the dispatcher said. “They’re in the neighborhood…only three minutes out.”

  “Hey, where’s your laptop?” He banged on the door and tried the doorknob. “I won’t hurt you. I need that laptop.”

  “My laptop?”

  “Where is it?”

  “Why do you want my laptop?”

  “Where’s the damn laptop?!”

  He pounded on the door so hard Libby thought he was going to burst right through it.

  “It’s not here. I called the cops. Get out of my house!”

  “Where is it?” He jiggled the doorknob and rapped on the door again.

  “I have a gun. Get the hell away from my door, or I will shoot you!”

  “Where is it?! I need that damn laptop!” He jerked on the doorknob and banged on the door even louder.

  “I’ve had a really bad week. Were you the one who hit me over the head? Maybe I should go ahead and shoot you.”

  “I wasn’t even there! Jesus Christ, Lady. Tell me where the laptop is.”

  “I don’t have it because, uh...” She couldn’t tell him it was with the cops. “Because it’s with the geeks for repair.”

  “Are you shitting me?!”

  “If they can’t fix it, I’ll probably have it wiped and buy a new one. So, get the hell out of my house before the cops get here.”

  “You’re screwed, Lady. He wants the files on your laptop.”

  “What files? What guy?”

  The dispatcher came back on and said, �
��The officers are pulling into your driveway now. Stay in the bathroom until they clear the house and grounds.”

  In what seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes, she heard a knock. “Libby, it’s Bobby James, and I have Officer Rodriguez with me. Open the door.”

  Realizing what she was wearing, she pulled a robe off the back of the door and slid her arms into it before opening the door.

  “Hey, Bobby,” she said as she opened the door.

  “Are you all right?” He asked. “You’re keeping me busy this week.”

  “Sorry about that,” she said, excusing herself as she went past the officers and sunk onto the edge of her bed.

  “Where’s your gun?” His partner asked, a young Hispanic woman whose name tag read ‘M. Rodriguez.’

  “It’s on the counter by the sink.”

  The female officer went into the bathroom and returned with Libby’s gun.

  “Did you find him?” Libby asked. “He was here in the bedroom pounding on the bathroom door just before you got here. He couldn’t have gone far.”

  “The window on your back door is broken. That’s how he got in,” Bobby said.

  “Did you have any interaction with the intruder?” The female officer asked.

  Libby told them everything that happened. “He’s looking for my laptop. Bobby, this is related to Pilar’s kidnapping and the break-in at the café. I know it. Something is going on here. I just can’t figure out what it is.”

  “I’ve called for the crime scene team. They’ll be here in about forty-five minutes,” Officer Rodriguez said.

  “Now?” Libby asked. “It’s one in the morning.”

  “Well, ma’am,” Officer Rodriguez said, “if we wait until morning, evidence could be compromised.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right,” Libby said, realizing if she were in Officer Rodriquez’s shoes, she would have done the same thing.

  “We’ll wait in the living room while you get dressed,” Bobby said, as he and Officer Rodriguez left the room.

  Libby pulled on some clothes and went into the living room. Her house was a small cottage that was built by a boat captain who rented it to fishermen and their families who came to Florida for the fishing charters. After the captain’s death, the family sold the cottage, and the new owner renovated the house into a cozy beach cottage. Libby had purchased it the previous year when the new owner, a wonderful woman who had become a regular at the café, moved to an assisted living facility.