Murder in Mariposa Beach

by Teresa Michael

  Libby looked up and noticed the widow’s walk. From what Detective Bauer told her, the house was once owned by a sea captain and his family. They were in the salvage business, called wreckers, which, at the time, was big business in Key West. The captain used it to keep an eye on what was going on in the harbor because the captain who got to the wreck first, was in charge of the job. His widow would walk back and forth, waiting for her captain to come home. She was rumored to haunt the house.

  Looking for any evidence of the SWAT team, Libby scanned the neighboring houses, second-floor windows and rooftops. Seeing none, she paused a moment to glance at the telephone company truck down the block and wondered if Jack was in there listening to her. She took a deep breath, walked to the door and rang the bell.

  The large bouncer from The Blue Pelican opened the door. He wore an unbuttoned yellow, blue and green floral Cuban shirt over a white T-shirt stretched across his massive chest. His dark hair was cut short. She could see the blue ink from a tattoo that peeked out of his sleeve when he moved his left arm.

  “It’s her,” he said over his shoulder.

  Max Holden appeared behind him and said, “Well, Terrence, invite her in. Let’s get this over with and get the hell out of here.”

  Terrence stood aside to allow Libby to step into a bright, two-story foyer. To the left, she saw an oak staircase to the second floor that continued with what appeared to be a hand-carved balcony that ran the width of the entryway. She could see at least four doors off the balcony hall. She looked upward to see a skylight on either side of a crystal chandelier. The sunlight sparkled off the crystals and cast rainbows on the black and white tile floor.

  “Miss Marshall, welcome to my home. I do believe you have something that belongs to me.” Holden was wearing khaki shorts and a Blue Pelican Saloon T-shirt. His hair was slicked back as if he had just gotten out of the shower.

  “Yes, I have the flash drive.”

  “Please excuse the intrusion but,” he said motioning to Terrence, who approached Libby from behind and roughly placed his hands on her waist and ran them down her legs. He felt the flash drive in her pocket, at which point, he slid his hand into her pocket, retrieved the flash drive and held it up for Max to see.

  When he ran his hands over her backside, Libby jerked away. “Hey, watch it, Buster.”

  “I’m so sorry. One can’t be too careful,” Max said, motioning for another guy to come forward.

  A short guy with glasses appeared at Holden’s elbow from the hallway behind. He took the flash drive and exited the room through the pocket doors to her left at the foot of the staircase.

  Probably the computer guy.

  Holden looked at Terrence and nodded toward Libby. Libby assumed it was instructions to finish the pat-down.

  “Hey, I didn’t come here to get felt up by your hired gorilla,” Libby said, as she pulled up her shirt to the edge of her bra. “I’d rather just show you there’s nothing inside my shirt except for what belongs there.” She then slowly turned, praying the edge of the wire hadn’t edged below her bra.

  Max laughed and said, “Touché, Libby. I can call you Libby, can’t I?”

  “Where’s Pilar?”

  “She’s upstairs. You’ll be reunited with your friend as soon as my tech-guy verifies the information is there and intact.”

  Libby looked upstairs and then to the right where white sheets covered the living room furniture.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Yes. It’s gotten much too hot here, so to speak.”

  “I have a feeling we aren’t talking about the weather.”

  He laughed, turned towards the back of the house and motioned for her to follow.

  “Where are we going?” She asked remembering to keep the conversation going.

  “I need to pack up a few things in my recording studio,” he said, stopping in front of a door that opened off the hall under the balcony.

  “A recording studio?” Libby followed Max through the door and wondered if the people in the telephone truck would be able to hear her through a soundproof studio.

  “Jimmy Buffet’s got his own studio, why shouldn’t I?”

  Libby assumed this must have been part of the living room or a small sitting room before he converted it into a recording studio. With the equipment and furniture, the room felt small. There was a black baby grand piano across from the door. There were two empty guitar stands, with the guitars for them probably in the cases leaning against the wall just inside the door. There was a state-of-the-art soundboard, mixing equipment and microphones.

  “Wow, this is nice,” she said. She could see where he spent a lot of his money, everything was of the highest quality.

  “Yeah. Hopefully, I’ll be able to return as soon as things are back to normal.”

  Normal? “I don’t understand what’s going on? What’s on that flash drive?” She moved to stand across from Max at the piano.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t take a peek at it,” he said as he sorted sheet music into two stacks—one into a leather zippered briefcase on top of the piano and another into a loose stack next to the briefcase.

  “I did, but I didn’t understand what it meant.”

  “It’s all very technical. Tides, locations, boats, cargo. Run the program, and it tells us the best place to drop cargo, and depending on what the cargo is, which boats, where to get the crew and so on. There are some things you just can’t let off in the water.” Max sorted music as he talked.

  “It appears that being a musician is a good cover for whatever you’re doing.”

  “Let’s say I’m in the import-export business,” he chuckled. “After my dad cut me off, I had to find a way to support myself and my music.”

  “Are you saying that you got into whatever it is you’re doing to avoid getting a day job?”

  “The business gave me the opportunity and the time to make music. It helped me get my bar and keep it running.”

  “The Blue Pelican is a nice bar.”

  “Oh yes, you were there last night.”

  “When I got to Key West, I had a little time on my hands, waiting to be contacted.” Where is that computer guy?

  “I was waiting for some travel arrangements to come together. That Montoya chick screwed things up for a lot of not very nice people.”

  “I guess you really couldn’t kill her, considering who her father is and apparently who your customers are. Not so much her boyfriend, Richard, though.”

  “That was a mistake. No one was supposed to get hurt. I needed that flash drive. I’m just the middleman, you know. I mostly just make arrangements.”

  Tell it to the judge. Aloud she asked, “May I ask you a question?”

  “Depends.” He didn’t look at her, instead, continuing to sort through his music and papers.

  “What does JRK stand for?”

  “So you’ve looked into things, have you?”

  “Yes, of course, I did. I was involved the minute I walked into Pilar’s house and found Richard Chen’s body.”

  “It’s probably a misnomer now, but it stands for ‘Just Real Kool’ – cool with a ‘K.’”

  “Yeah, not so cool anymore,” she muttered.

  Max stopped to look at the sheet music he had in his left hand. “I remember this song. I wrote it a while ago. Trevor said you were asking about a gig. You sing?”

  “Yes, but mostly with my cousin.”

  “You know, I always thought this song would be so much better as a duet.” He motioned for her to sit at the piano. “How well do you sight read music?”

  “Not that well. My cousin is the protégé,” she said as she slowly sank onto the piano stool. “We don’t have time to be singing songs. You’ve got the drive. Bring Pilar down so we can get out of your hair, and you can take off to wherever it is you’re going.”

  Max carefully set the sheet music on the piano, reached into his briefcase and pulled out a 9mm Glock. “Play and sing. This is your auditio
n.”

  Libby immediately put her hands up. “Okay, I’ll play. Just put the gun down.” Wondering if Jack and Detective Bauer were hearing of any of this, she placed her hands on the piano keys, took a deep breath and played the first few bars of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’

  “Very funny,” he said. “Seriously, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’”

  “Sorry, that’s my go-to, nervous warm-up song.”

  “I hate guns,” he said returning the gun to the briefcase. “But sometimes it’s necessary to help get the point across. So play.”

  “All right,” she said, placing her fingers on the keys, examining the lyrics and the first few bars of music. “The words are quite lovely. This is a good break-up song.” Under her breath, she added, “But who are you breaking up with? Your life?”

  “Play.”

  She focused on the music and began to play the first few bars. She fumbled and then started over. As she played the first few notes a second time, there was a knock at the door and the computer guy entered.

  “Jason, what’s the word?”

  “All clear. I got the program to run. It appears to be intact.”

  “Great. Get your gear. I’ll meet you at the plane at two o’clock.”

  “Sure thing, Max,” he said before he closed the door.

  “Too bad. I would’ve liked to have sung this song with you,” he said as he gathered the sheet music, placed it inside the briefcase, carefully laid the gun on top of the music and then zipped it up.

  When Libby stepped into the hall, Terrence was outside the door.

  “Okay, you have the flash drive. Let’s get Pilar, and then, we’ll be on our way.”

  “Not so fast,” Max said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Terrence, take her upstairs until we’re ready to go.”

  “But, Boss, let’s get rid of these bitches and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  “Very soon, my friend,” Max said, turning back towards the recording studio. “Very soon.”

  Terrence grabbed her by the arm and dragged her towards the stairs.

  “Let’s go, Red.”

  “Ouch, easy there,” Libby said.

  As he dragged her up the stairs, Terrence was moving fast and swearing under his breath. He stopped at the third door off the balcony corridor and let go of her long enough to unlock the door. The door swung open, and he pushed Libby forward so hard she fell hard onto the Oriental rug in the middle of the room. When she looked up, she found herself in a sitting room with Pilar standing over her.

  “Oh my God, Libby!” Pilar helped her up. “You’re really here! I’m so sorry I got you involved in this.”

  On her feet, Libby turned towards Terrence. “What the hell?! There was no reason for that.”

  Terrence grabbed her shirt and said, “I should have taken care of you when I had the chance.”

  “Oh, so it was you who trashed my place and hit me over the head? Why the hell did you have to break that goddamn cappuccino machine?!”

  “I hate that cappuccino shit, and I shoulda made sure you didn’t wake up at all.” His round, sweaty face looked like the red three ball on the pool table at Buster’s Bar.

  “Like you did Richard?”

  “Bitch,” he spat and grabbed her arm.

  She met his gaze and tried to jerk away.

  He punched her in the gut so hard she flew backward, hitting the wall. The room went black, leaving her gasping for breath.

  “Ocean,” she whispered.

  Chapter 28

  Tuesday – Max Holden’s House – Key West

  Pilar

  “Libby, what did you say?” Pilar asked, as she helped Libby stand.

  Terrence had slammed the door and locked them inside.

  “What?!” Libby gasped, catching her breath, still bent over.

  “Did you say ‘ocean’ and what about Richard? Is he all right? Was he hurt?”

  Oh, God, she doesn’t know about Richard.

  Not wanting to answer the question about Richard, Libby asked, “Have you been here all week?”

  “Not at first.” Pilar led her to the sofa. “They kept me in a house in Bradenton, I think. Then on Wednesday or Thursday, I woke up here. I don’t remember which because they kept me pretty much drugged up until yesterday.”

  “Otherwise, did they treat you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  “No, I told them who my father is. They brought me food and clothes and kept me locked in a bedroom down the hall. They brought me in here this morning just after breakfast. There was a girl named Patty who was with me most of the time. I think she’s Jason’s girlfriend. He’s the computer guy.”

  Libby was breathing easier, so she tried to stand but was a bit woozy. She sank back down into the overstuffed floral print sofa. She looked around the rectangular-shaped room that was decorated as what appeared to be a sitting room furnished in pink, mauve and burgundy. Large, urn-shaped, wine-red table lamps stood on end tables that flanked the sofa, upholstered in rose print. Expensive wooden bookcases shared the wall with the door. Books and pictures filled the shelves, perfectly placed by probably an expensive interior decorator. At the end of the room, there was a row of paned windows that Libby assumed overlooked the backyard. Two Queen Anne chairs were on either side of, what she recognized as a pie crust table, only because her grandmother had one. A Chinese vase sat majestically on the table. There was a half-open door at the opposite end of the room that appeared to lead to a bathroom.

  “Libby, are you all right?” Pilar was sitting next to her on the sofa. She wore a Margaritaville T-shirt and shorts.

  “Just a little bit dizzy.” Libby stood, steadied herself and went to the door. “Damn, it’s locked.” She leaned into the door and listened, but heard nothing. She was expecting the SWAT team to be breaching the door at any moment. “Ocean. I said ocean.”

  “What are you talking about?” Pilar stood and walked towards her.

  Libby reached under her shirt and felt for the wire.

  “Libby, what is that?”

  Libby shushed Pilar as she pulled the wire from under her shirt. It hurt a little as the tape pulled her skin. “The cops,” Libby mouthed just in case the room was bugged. She examined the wire but couldn’t tell if it was working.

  Replacing the microphone and easing down into the plushness of the sofa, she wondered if it had broken when Terrence threw her across the room. If so, they must know that something is wrong. I wonder if they heard anything. Are we screwed? Do I need to figure a way out of here myself?

  “Libby?”

  “What?”

  “What about Richard?”

  Libby motioned for her to sit on the sofa.

  “Is he all right?” Pilar asked as she joined Libby on the sofa.

  “How did this all happen?”

  “I mistakenly picked up Jordan’s flash drive. He’s a regional manager with my company. When I looked at the files, I knew it was something I should never have seen. There was too much money in the spreadsheets. Almost every account was overstated. I got suspicious, and I began to think our company was being used to launder money. I saved the files and sneaked the flash drive back into his briefcase.”

  “When did you put it on my laptop?”

  “Remember that day about two weeks ago that I stopped by the café on my way home from work?”

  “Oh my God, I left you alone in my office while I went to get us some iced tea.”

  “I had to get that information out of my possession. So I downloaded it onto another flash drive, and I put it on your laptop. Then, the more I thought about it, I had to figure out what to do. So, I called you to set up the dinner meeting because I was going to tell you everything and figure out my next steps, but I was too late.”

  “They must have realized what you’d done. That’s why they broke into your clients’ offices and pulled all the hard drives from their computers.”

  “I denied it for a long time, that is, until
the day I called you. You don’t understand. They were threatening my family. Max said that if they didn’t get the files back, it wouldn’t matter who my father was. We’d all be dead, and he would disappear to a country where there’s no extradition.”

  “What did you do with the flash drive you used to dump the files onto my laptop?”

  “I threw it into the Gulf of Mexico.”

  Libby leaned back against the sofa. She knew she had to tell Pilar about Richard but wasn’t sure how she would handle it. A total breakdown would not be good right now…for either one of them.

  “Is Richard dead?” Pilar asked with a catch in her voice.

  Libby looked at her and nodded. “I’m so sorry. When you didn’t show up for our dinner, I went to your house and I found him in your bedroom. He was dead.”

  Pilar dropped her face into her hands and began to sob. Libby put her arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m so sorry’ was all she could say.

  When Terrence stormed through the door, the girls jumped to their feet. He grabbed Pilar by the arm and pushed her against the wall.

  “Your daddy will pay big money to get you back. I don’t care what that asshole, Max, says. I’m going to use you to get my ass out of here before the cops block off the street.”

  Libby grabbed the vase from the table, covered the room in a few steps and swung it as hard as she could, making contact with his head with a thump, shattering the vase into puzzle pieces. Dazed, he fell forward against the wall. As he fell face first on the floor, Pilar slid along the wall.

  “And don’t call me Red. That really pisses me off.”

  “Oh, God, Libby! You’ve killed him!”

  Chapter 29

  Tuesday – Max Holden’s House – Key West

  The Take Down

  Libby knelt beside him. “No, I didn’t kill him, but he’s not going to be very happy when he wakes up,” she said as she started to rummage through his pockets.

  From his right front pocket, she retrieved a long, automatic-opening knife. She held it up, and said, “Bring me the lamps.”