Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 02 - Vacation is Murder

by Carolyn Arnold

  “At what point did Earl write that letter?”

  “Maybe he saw Amelia in the bar last night and that’s why he went up to the room ahead of his wife.”

  “Not too bright, though, why not stay in the bar area, around others?”

  “He needed to write that letter for Catherine. He couldn’t say it to her face.”

  “Let’s be honest, the guy isn’t the best communicator.”

  “True.” Sara laughed.

  “Let’s focus on the entire picture. Earl comes up to confess the affair because he got spooked that his mistress showed up in Cancun.”

  “And he could have slipped it into her purse then because she didn’t have one with her at dinner.”

  “All right, so her purse was in the room. Going back to Earl’s mistress, we know that she was after fifty thousand, but why follow him all the way to Cancun for it? I admit that would freak me out, too. He excuses himself to go up and write the letter.”

  “He feels he’s in danger.”

  Sean thought back to what Earl had said to him on their evening walk. “He was already feeling that way last night after dinner.”

  “Here’s a question, though, why answer the door if he saw her there? If he was leery, why let her in?”

  Sean shrugged his shoulders. “He could have told himself he was making too much out of it. Maybe he still had feelings for her?”

  “I don’t know, yet, but I guess we’ll find out. First, we have to figure out where this guy took Amelia—I see it on your face, you’re on to something.”

  Sean pointed at the white sunhat lying on the bed.

  “Let’s hope it works.”

  Face-Off

  AMELIA BUCKED AGAINST THE VISE-LIKE grip he had on her wrists. “You’re not going to get away with this. They’ll come after me.”

  He pushed her onto a spindle-backed chair and pulled a bunch of rope from the corner of the bed. “You make a move, it will be your last one.”

  “They will come.”

  He laughed as he worked at tying her around the torso, securing her wrists to the arms of the chair, pulling extra tight on the last hand.

  She yelped as pain flashed white over her vision. She worked to steady her breathing, willing the rush of adrenaline to ebb away.

  “They’re cops from New York,” she said.

  He dropped on the corner of the bed, and a certain light crept into his eyes causing her stomach to heave.

  “They were cops, Mia, you should get your facts together.”

  “No, they are. Earl told me.”

  “Then he’s misinformed. In fact, they aren’t even from The Big Apple, they’re from a smaller city in the state of New York—Albany. But really, all of that is tediously boring news.”

  He paced around her.

  She willed her mind clear of all the colliding thoughts that were assaulting her from many directions. She glanced at her bonds and attempted to lift her arms. There was no movement.

  “As you can tell, I’ve done my homework on the couple. The Internet really was a glorious invention. It lets anyone know anything about anyone. Really there is no privacy for any of us.”

  She looked over a shoulder when he went behind her.

  He reappeared in front, a second later, and bent over the chair, his nose less than an inch from hers. “It turns out Earl’s new friends are wealthier than God. They inherited billions from a business tycoon. It’s all over the news in the area. Maybe Mrs. McKinley would make a more effective bargaining chip. I’m sure her husband would pay handsomely for her safe return.”

  “Don’t do this. You can stop now. No one needs to know.”

  “No. See, I believe it is too late.”

  “They don’t know anything about you. You could walk away as far as they’re concerned.” Her thoughts traced back to the note she had left in her novel. She hoped that the McKinleys had come back to talk to her. If not, were her possessions still on the lounge chair on the beach? She shook the stupid thought. If she didn’t make it out of here alive, it wouldn’t matter.

  He straightened and hoisted up his pants.

  “I asked you to do one little favor for me, Mia.” He held up an index finger. “Just one. Fifty thousand dollars and I’d leave your life forever, but it proved too much for you to handle so I had to take things into my own hands. You know what else that means, right?”

  He pulled a gun from the back of his pants. “Don’t look so shocked. I have my ways of finding like-minded individuals. Compadres.” He shrugged. “And it doesn’t hurt that I know a little Spanish.”

  He leveled the barrel on her. “Seeing as I don’t need you anymore—”

  “Please, no. Don’t do this.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Would their warmth be the last thing she’d feel?

  For Better Or Worse

  SARA WENT TO THE FRONT desk. She spoke a touch of Spanish and could use it to her advantage. They also figured if a man asked after Amelia, they might be cautious and less cooperative, so, Sean took a seat in the lobby area.

  Sara greeted the man behind the counter with a sincere smile. “Buenos días.”

  “Buenos días.” He smiled too, leaning over the counter. “Te ves lindísima en este vestido.”

  Okay, maybe she didn’t know enough Spanish to carry on a conversation. She smiled at him.

  “It means you look beautiful in that dress.”

  “Oh. Gracias.” She smiled, kindly, even though the man’s true thoughts were disclosed by his ogling. It used to make her uncomfortable, but over the years she’d found ways of working her looks to her advantage. Since he spoke English, she continued in the language she was more accustomed to. “I’m looking for my friend.”

  “You’ve lost her? I can be your friend.” Another sly smile.

  She batted a hand through the air. “Oh, but you see, I have her hat and need to get it to her. She burns terribly if she doesn’t wear this.” She held it up.

  “Why not wear it for the day? Maybe your friend met a man? She could be spending time indoors.” He winked at her. “If you know what I mean.”

  “You mentioned she met a man? Did you see her with one?”

  “Maybe. You should find a male friend. I’ll volunteer.”

  “Oh, gracias, but no. It’s really important that I find her. She’s got a broken heart and will fall for any line.”

  Rejection glazed over his eyes.

  “I need to protect her.” She was losing him.

  “Ah, but you are an angel.” This time he gave her a goofy grin.

  “So, you did see her?”

  “Sí. I see everything.” He pointed behind her to the sitting area. “And I know you are with him.”

  Sara lowered her eyes, trying to put on an innocent air. “Yes, I am.”

  “Why not have him ask me where she is?”

  Sara laughed and gestured to Sean. He donned a gaze of confusion but walked over, placing a possessive arm around her waist.

  “I am telling you the truth about my friend Amelia.”

  “At least you have a name. Come here.” The man gestured for them to follow to the end of the counter. “She went with a man about an hour ago. They were in a hurry.”

  Sara placed the hat on her head. “Do you know where they went?”

  The Mexican pointed and smiled. “See, it looks good on you.”

  Sara glanced at Sean from her peripheral.

  The man continued. “They took a taxi.”

  “Do you know which taxi she took?” Sean asked.

  “Sí, it just happens to be—ah, good timing—that one right there.”

  “Gracias.” Sara pranced across the lobby to the overhang.

  Sean placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let me handle this, darling.”

  “Did you hear what he said?” She ran a hand along the brim of the hat. “He said I look good in this.”

  “Sweetheart, he would have said anything.”

  Sara scowled for a few seconds before the e
xpression melted.

  Sean bent over and spoke through the passenger window of the beat-up sedan. “Excuse me.”

  The taxi driver turned to Sean.

  “Did you just take a couple from this resort someplace?”

  “She is tall and slender, red hair. He is shorter and muscular,” Sara added as she lowered against Sean’s back so she could see into the car.

  “No.”

  “He was wearing a red beer t-shirt.”

  The driver smiled. “Yes. Budweiser. Good American beer.”

  They didn’t have time to get into a discussion over lager. “So you remember them?”

  “No, I said I know Budweiser.”

  “You’re sure you never gave them a ride?” Sean pressed the question.

  “Maybe another taxi?”

  Another sedan came up the drive and into the turnabout.

  “Sean.” Sara headed over to the driver’s side of the other taxi, and Sean came up beside her.

  “Did you just give a ride to a couple? She’s a beautiful redhead and he was wearing a beer t-shirt?”

  The driver looked from her hat, to her eyes. “Yes.”

  “We need you to take us where you took them,” Sean said.

  “We would be grateful if you would,” Sara added. “She is my friend. I need to return her hat.”

  “Ah, makes sense. Does not suit you. But otherwise, you are very beautiful.” He smiled.

  “Oh.” Sara took it off and sliced an evil glare at Sean as she did so.

  Undercover

  THEY SETTLED IN THE BACK seat of the taxi and inhaled lingering smells of perspiration, cologne, and floral overtures. The latter struck Sara as a familiar scent.

  “That’s Amelia’s perfume. We’re in the right car.”

  Sean nodded. “And we know that wherever they went, it must be about a half hour away from the resort.”

  “Sí.” The driver smiled in the rearview mirror, directing it to Sara.

  “Where did you take them?” she asked.

  “Another resort.” The driver snickered.

  The taxi merged into traffic, based more on a prayer that the oncoming cars would slow to allow them safe passage rather than skill.

  It had Sara reaching for the grab bar. She didn’t come all the way to Mexico to die in a car accident. She had to focus on their case—was it crazy to call it that? After all, they weren’t acting in an official capacity, but, nonetheless, they were acting. She steadied her breath and decided it best to divert her attention from the reckless, fast-paced driving of the cabbie and back to Amelia.

  “Sean, this guy followed her down here. She was staying at our resort. Whatever is going on, I really think she’s in danger now too.”

  “I agree, darling.” Sean reached his hand across the back seat to Sara’s and laced his fingers through hers.

  Sara glanced briefly at their intertwined hands and experienced a torrent of emotion. She was used to working cases back home, in the familiar surroundings of the city she grew up in, but not here in a foreign country where she wasn’t even fluent with the language.

  And surprisingly, while she had always watched Sean’s back, it was different now they were married. She stood to lose that much more if something went wrong.

  She sensed him watching her and looked up to meet his eyes. She saw the same fear and doubt reflecting back at her—should they have left it alone?

  The taxi took a swift curve into the parking lot belonging to a three-story motel. To term it a resort would be too far off the mark. Back home it would have been referred to as a seedy joint, one any middle-income adult would avoid, unless they had no choice.

  Sean tucked that thought away as he paid the fare, having divvied out the money en route. Then he waved off the taxi.

  “Oh, Sean, I have a really bad feeling.” Sara held the sunhat in front of her and softly swayed left to right.

  She came across so vulnerable in that moment, as if she were retreating behind the hat, wishing away their current circumstance.

  “There are only two types of people who come here. The ones who can’t afford any better and the ones who are hiding from something. We know this, so we’re prepared,” he said.

  She nodded. “You’re right. I’m also starting to think this guy we’re after has a history wherever he’s from.”

  “I do too, and my guess is it’s the good ol’ United States, but we’ll know soon enough.”

  Sara took in the structure of the building, letting her eyes trace up and down, side to side. She faced Sean. “How do you propose we find out their room number? Assuming they didn’t get dropped here and head somewhere else to throw us off.”

  “You think they know about us?”

  Sara bit her bottom lip. “Absolutely. We know that Amelia does. Otherwise why scribble that note in her book? What we don’t know is her relationship, if any, to the man who took her.”

  “I think the chances are slim someone from Cancun has a vendetta against her.”

  “I believe you’re right.”

  “That means he followed her. I hope Voigt comes back with something soon.”

  “Me too, darling.”

  The sun was beating down and had Sean seeking shelter. He extended his hand to Sara and led her into the lobby of the motel. In a place like this, he wouldn’t let her leave his side.

  The plan of attack formulated in his mind and flicked into focus once he was free of the blinding heat. Places like this didn’t give out information—their customers typically paid cash and didn’t provide real names anyway. He had to present himself as someone to fear.

  He did a quick survey of the interior—there was an ugly couch, framed in wood, its back was scalloped, the fabric a faded, rusty floral pattern. The man behind the counter was all of five-feet-four with dark skin and a wide, round face. He had his hands braced on the aging laminate countertop, a toothpick poking out from the corner of his mouth. He wore a dazed, awkward grin.

  “Would you hurry up your ass, broad?” Sean tugged on Sara’s arm, delicately balancing between appearing to be a ruffian and not hurting her. He turned to face her and enlarged his eyes, urging her to play along.

  “This is no way to treat a lady. Get your hand off me, you creep.”

  “Now, now, little darling.” Sean pulled her to him and tucked her tight into his side, looking to the guy at the counter.

  “She always has to say no before she says yes. Don’t ya, darling?” Sean planted a big, wet, noisy kiss on her cheek.

  Sara pushed on his chest but then surrendered to his embrace. “You know it, big boy.” She turned to face the man and smiled. “Please get us a room. Now.”

  The man slowly drew the toothpick from his mouth, every fragment of the wood scraping across his teeth. With it removed, the grin was feral and Sean would recognize its origin anywhere. The man was a predator.

  “We’re meeting up with two friends of ours and having ourselves a party, if you know what I mean,” Sean said.

  “Ah, Señor.” The man laughed, causing the skin around his eyes to pinch into deep-set wrinkles. “Party.”

  Sean realized that the man’s knowledge of English was limited. Sean used gestures as he spoke, hoping it would be enough to get the message understood. “They would have arrived not long ago.”

  The Mexican’s brow knitted in confusion.

  Sean went about it another way. “She’s a redhead. He’s a jerk, but also my friend. Amigo.” He passed a smile at the man.

  “Sí, sí. Amigo.”

  “Right. He wore a Budweiser t-shirt.” Sean patted his chest.

  “Ah, great American beer.”

  “Yes.”

  Seconds passed with him and the Mexican staring at each other.

  “Their room number?”

  “Muchacha bonita.” He bent over, leaned on his elbow and tapped his fingers to his lips, then pointed at Sara.

  “No way, man. She’s mine. Maybe I haven’t made myself clear.” Sean put
his hand into his shorts pocket while keeping eye contact with the man. “I’m here to party and no one gets in my way. Understood?”

  Sean drew out his hand.

  “Stop.” The man passed a glance from Sara to Sean.

  “Room three fifteen, but…señorita—” He whistled at Sara.

  “If you would have let him kiss me, I would have killed you. Just having that man eyeball me,” tremors ran through her, “gave me the willies.”

  “As if I’d let him get close.”

  “I know you wouldn’t because you value your life.” Sara cast him a glare and he laughed.

  They took the stairs to the third floor, not that there was another option.

  “Here it is, Sean.” Sara stood beside the door marked 315, her back to the wall.

  Sean knocked.

  They waited.

  He knocked again.

  There wasn’t a sound coming from inside. If Amelia and the man had come here, they weren’t in their room.

  Sean studied the door handle and made the quick observation that it didn’t have any fancy swipe-key apparatus. The locking mechanism dated back as far as the worn, tattered carpeting and the rest of the touches in the place.

  He held out his hand to Sara and she passed him the hat while she rooted through her purse.

  “Here you—” When she looked up, holding a hairpin, she burst out in laughter. Her hand snapped over her mouth to dampen the volume.

  “What?” He traced the brim of the sunhat and polished the movement with flare at the end. “I take it by your reaction the hat doesn’t suit me either.”

  “One could say that, but to use the word either would infer that it doesn’t look good on me. The man at our resort told me it suited me.”

  Sean shook his head. “Darling, we’ve been through this. He would have told you anything.”

  “You say that because you’re partial.”

  “I say it because it’s the truth, but it’s not time to build your ego.”

  She lolled her head side to side and mumbled, “I think anytime is good for that.”