And then there was Ms. Roberto. She was arrested shortly afterward in her upstairs residence. She must have figured out something hinkey had happened since she was caught trying to make off with one of the mirrors herself when the FBI knocked on her door. The Casa was just full of crime today.
“And here I had thought you were delusional or simply starved for attention,” Mr. Roberto said to us at the hospital. He had stopped by for a visit and, against my better judgement, I had said he could come in. Mr. Roberto eyed Finn as if my investigative tendencies were somehow his fault. If he’d only pay attention to his little wife more, she would keep her nose out of trouble. I resisted to urge to punch him.
Then to my surprise, Mr. Roberto completely changed his tone. “Mrs. Hudson, I’m truly sorry this happened to you at my hotel. If there’s anything I can do to right this, just let me know.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “There is. I’d like the four mirrors from Mariah Boulet’s dowry returned to her family.”
“The dowry’s real?” Mr. Roberto asking, looking to Finn for confirmation.
“Oh yeah,” Finn replied.
“Yes, the dowry, the ghost…it’s all real and it doesn’t belong to you. It belongs the Boulets. I have all the documentation and I know where three of the mirrors are.”
“You do?”
“Yes, and the documentation describes them to a T,” so don’t try any funny business, I added to myself.
Mr. Roberto shifted uncomfortably. Maybe the pain medication had loosened my lips, then again, who was I kidding? I never needed narcotics to speak my mind.
“You know two people are dead because you cut a man’s pension.”
“What?!”
“That’s what drove Mr. Alvarez to murder Carmen and Mr. Hunt. He was going to take the funds from selling the mirrors and retire,” I said.
“He was?” Mr. Roberto looked truly shocked.
“You need to realize that your actions have consequences. It’s not always about saving a dollar.”
Mr. Roberto looked away. If there was ever a way to humble someone, I may have just figured out how.
“Is that it then?” Mr. Roberto asked after a minute.
“It is. My aunt is a descendant of Mariah Boulet. She can file the court papers tomorrow,” I said.
“That won’t be necessary. She can take them tonight if she’d like.”
My head about fell off my shoulders from turning it so fast to look at my husband. “I know I’m in pain and all, but could I get that in writing? I want to make sure I heard you correctly.”
“I will personally see to it that she receives them,” Mr. Roberto insisted.
“Okay, well one’s in the root cellar, the one’s above the fireplace in your library, and the third is in our hotel room on the bed. I don’t know where the fourth one is.”
“I do. It’s in Mr. Alvarez room,” Mr. Roberto said.
“Of course it is,” I replied.
“I’ll have them packaged up and delivered to your aunt’s house tonight,” Mr. Roberto said.
“Well, you might want to wait until the storm hits.” I had no idea what the latest forecasts were predicting, but we had definitely missed our flight. I could only hope that the hospital would be a safe place to hunker down.
“It’s not going to hit. Not directly. The eye is going to stay offshore,” Mr. Roberto said.
“It’s not? Oh thank goodness.” I plopped back against the hospital-issued pillows and immediately regretted it. I had a feeling my shoulder was going to be hurting for a while.
The nurse decided to make her entrance at that time, and Mr. Roberto bid us farewell, promising once more he would take care of the mirrors.
I couldn’t hide a wince as I moved, and Finn wouldn’t let me turn down the nurse’s offer for more pain meds. I was past due for another dose after all. As the meds went in, my eyelids shut, and finally, finally I was able to get some sleep.
20
The sun was shining and I was sure we’d be able to find a rainbow if I looked hard enough. Finn and I were walking hand-in-hand to Mr. Hunt’s antique store in search of Mariah’s letter. Antique shops and Caribbean islands were full of wonder, and I could’ve spent hours perusing the merchandise. If we didn’t have a flight to catch, we might have done just that. Perhaps next time.
A young girl approached us and asked if we needed any help.
“Hi, I’m looking for a nineteenth-century French book titled ‘The Red and The Black’? I heard you have a copy of it along with a secret letter?”
“We do. My father,” the girl swallowed back her emotion. “Well, he was quite fond of it. Let me show it to you.” She led us to a glass display. The book and the letter were inside it.
“Is the book significant?” I asked the girl.
“Definitely. Stendhal’s Julien Sorel was a very ambitious gentleman. Unfortunately, his intelligence and aspirations often conflicted with his birth rank. Fed up with the rules of society, he chose death over living within life’s hypocrisy.”
“So, Mariah, oh my… she took her own life?” My heart sank even further for the woman. I looked down to read the letter, but quickly realized it wasn’t written in English or Spanish.
“It’s French,” Finn supplied.
“Can you read it?” I asked.
Finn leaned closer.
Dearest Sister,
On the night I post this to you I will have left you forever. Why I am going, I need not detail. Suffice to say, people’s hearts aren’t as true as they seem. You have my love. Learn from my mistakes. Society is less forgiving.
-M
“Why do you think she never mailed it?” Finn asked.
“I think she meant to, along with the book, but it never made it out of the hotel.” I felt Mariah nodding in agreement.
“Whose heart wasn’t true?” Finn asked, reading the note again.
“Whose was? Both of the men she loved failed her and left her to face society’s judgement. The first in France, forcing her to move halfway around the world. Frederick’s betrayal?” Because based on her note, I was convinced that Professor Javier’s version of the story was true. Mariah had caught Frederick with another woman. “Well it was just too much.”
I looked back at the book inside the case. At that point, I didn’t care how much the book and letter cost. I was going to make sure they were delivered to Mariah’s family. It was time the true story was known.
To Finn’s credit, he didn’t even balk at the price. When we walked out of the store with our purchases, the wind swirled at my feet and danced through my hair. I felt free and I knew it was Mariah’s and Carmen’s spirits, soaring. The air tickled across my cheek as I heard the words thank you whispered in my ear.
I closed my eyes. “You’re welcome,” I said, smiling.
The women’s peace washed over me and this case was officially closed.
About the Author
Stephanie Damore is a mystery author who loves all things girlie with a dollop of danger. Her books feature fearless females, a little bit of love, a few laughs, and a whole lot of whodunit. She hopes her books keep you guessing and laughing all the way until the end.
I’d love to hear from you!
www.stephaniedamore.com
[email protected]
Beauty & Bloodshed: A romantic, cozy mystery: Beauty Secrets Mystery Book 5 Page 15