Marion E Currier

by Linked (retail) (epub)

  "Just a little while ago," he answered. "I'm having a drink with some friends. Wanna come join us?"

  "Mind if I take a rain check?"

  "Suit yourself." He took another gulp, and I guessed it to be a beer the way he was slurping it back. "What are you up to tomorrow?"

  "Thinking of venturing inland again."

  He croaked out a laugh. "More plantation hunting?"

  "Maybe. Although shopping also would work."

  "I get that you don't do the regular tourist stuff, but the best malls and shops on the island really are in San Juan."

  "You're right," I answered. "I'm not into the regular tourist stuff. So I thought I'd see what's in Cayey."

  "Really?"

  "Yes," I said, fishing for my Hunter's Travel Guide. "Says here there's a nice eighteenth century church named Nuestra Señora de la Asunción in the city plaza. You know how I like a good church."

  "Just about every village and town on the island has a church in its city plaza."

  "Well, this is the place I picked," I insisted. "Did it very scientifically. Eyes closed, finger extended, circling a couple of times and bingo. I am assuming there are also at least a few shops to keep me amused."

  "Uh-huh."

  I twisted my face. "What? You don't believe me?"

  "Sure. Sure I do. Got no reason not to, right?" Valentín asked. "As luck would have it, I have some business to take care of down there tomorrow. If you want to save yourself the rental car, I can take you with me."

  I'm sure I looked less than attractive as my mouth dropped open. "You have business to take care of in the same town?"

  "Freaky coincidence, right?"

  "Yeah, I'd say so." Although I didn't believe there were any.

  "What time do you want me to pick you up?"

  "You tell me. What time do you have to head down there for business?"

  "Gotta be there early afternoon," Valentín said. "What say I come get you at one?"

  "Sounds perfect," I answered, noting a little knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

  "I'll see you then," he said. "Get some more rest so you don't have another episode like today."

  I sat still for a long time. This was not the call I had imagined I'd be having. Technically, I should be elated. I was getting a free ride to go find Tee. And assuming Valentín really did have business to take care of, I should have time on my own to do just that. But what were the odds that of all the towns in Puerto Rico, the detective had to go to the same one as I did? I looked at the map I'd left unfolded on the table this morning. For a small island there were a great number of towns and the probability factor was at least one hundred and sixty-four to one as I counted all listed in the legend.

  "Freaky coincidence indeed," I said, subdued. Either Valentín just couldn't help himself, being a detective, or I'd attracted a stalker with a badge and a gun.

  Calling Elena for advice was definitely out of the question. She'd be here faster than Superman. I tried considering the bright side. At least my gut instinct told me something was fishy, so I wouldn't be completely unprepared. I'd just have to keep looking over my shoulder to make sure I could find Tee's jewelry shop alone. If I had to buy another piece of jewelry to prove that my trip was innocent, so be it. There had to be something small and inexpensive in his store I could get.

  I pulled out my notebook, jotting down today's date and the exhibit's location. My pen rested for some time on the page without moving as I tried to figure out how to write down what happened today. When a good number of minutes had ticked away, I decided to note down the one word that to me meant everything. Rafael. Underlined three times.

  Chapter 13

  Time seemed to be playing cruel tricks on me, moving slower than I ever recalled it passing. I'd done laps in the pool until my arms went numb. Tossed and turned on the bed and taken two showers, dressed and undressed until all items in my suitcase had had their turn on my back. Fifteen minutes before one I was sure I'd be wearing a groove into the hotel room's floor if I paced one more time. I bent down to unplug the charger from my phone, following the limp lying cable to the thick plug on the end. A rare, but heartfelt four-letter word slipped over my tongue. After the maid vacuumed yesterday, I'd forgotten to plug the charger back in. The little indicator bar was only half as full as I would have liked it to appear on my phone's screen.

  There was a knock on the door, and Valentín announced himself. The recharging would have to wait until tonight. I tossed the phone into my purse, along with my notebook, wallet and Tee's business card, opening the door so eagerly that Valentín almost tumbled onto me.

  "Hi". I relished his cologne despite the nagging thought that it might be spritzed on the neck of a psychotic stalker. My head tilted back as he greeted me with quite the passionate kiss.

  "You taste good," he murmured, letting his lips glide along my neck before releasing me from his embrace. "Let's go take you to Nuestra Señora de la Asunción."

  "Amen," I said, the little knot tying itself once again in my stomach.

  We wound our way through San Juan until connecting to Expresso 52. All of my preoccupations aside, I enjoyed the beautiful drive. The preternaturally green island looked like an emerald that glittered in different shades, depending on where and how the sun kissed it. And not even the detail of more violent drug trafficking stories Valentín shared with me could convince me that this was not a uniquely beautiful piece of earth.

  "Everything has its opposite," I argued, "so even heaven and hell sometimes come intertwined."

  He smiled. "Just make sure you always keep far enough away from the point of combustion where it becomes unclear which side you're standing on."

  I shifted in my seat so that I could get a good look at him. "Sounds like advice from someone who's been on both sides."

  He laughed, humorless. "In my life, they seem to be one on top of the other," he said. "I'm used to stepping on both pavements."

  "I imagine we all do, at one point or another. The trick is in never stopping to try and separate the two and hopefully spending more and more time on the right one."

  Valentín's dimple dug deep into his cheek. "Stop, Santita," he said. "If you keep talking like that, I'll be crawling on my knees up the aisle of the church by the time we get to Cayey."

  He didn't, although I noticed that he lit a candle and crossed himself once we entered the sanctuary. It wasn't easy pretending to be interested in the altar and architecture when I was actually quite anxious to set out and find Tee's jewelry shop.

  "How long will your business take," I asked, brushing my hands along the pews.

  "I'm not sure yet," Valentín said, "a few hours. I'll call you when I'm done."

  A few hours was good.

  "What are you going to be doing?"

  I halted my pew-brushing to take in the detective's inquisitive look. It might just have been my imagination, but he appeared to be struggling with trying to sound casual to the point of being disinterested.

  "I saw a few shops along the way into town from the Expressway," I answered. "Might not be anything too spectacular, but I think it'll be fun to visit some true blue Puerto Rican stores. Nothing specifically made for visitors." I smiled extra brightly. "Maybe I'll find one of those presses to make tostones, the real kind, not the ones that are sold just to be hung as decoration."

  "They're called tostoneras," he said. "Probably helps to know that if you want to buy one."

  "It probably does. Thanks." I headed for the door, needing my sunglasses as soon as I stepped out into the plaza. The sun reflected off the three-tiered bell tower's cream-colored exterior, only to be thrown right back at it from the equally bright pavement.

  "It's pretty hot for walking around," Valentín commented. "Are you sure I can't drop you somewhere?"

  I was one hundred percent sure. "I'll be fine," I assured him. "If I get too warm, I'll just duck into a store. Call me when you're done and then you can come and get me from wherever I'm at. I'm
sure by then I'll have had my fill of walking."

  Although he still seemed reluctant, Valentín finally got into his Mustang, and I watched until he disappeared around the corner. The afternoon heat was already pretty impressive, and I looked around to see where I could duck in first to cool off and ask for directions. The brightly colored ice cream scoops painted atop a giant cone above a store entrance looked very appealing, and I crossed Calle Corchado to get to it. The little store was jam-packed with any kind of household items one could possibly want, not to mention rows of canned goods, packages of cookies and hygiene products. I saw a stack of wooden tostoneras, functional and unadorned, and figured I might as well get my shopping proof purchased now.

  "What kind would you like, Santiago?" The balding cashier – and probably owner of this mom-and-pop store – leaned as far over the counter as the displayed merchandise to his left and right allowed. His jowly face was weather-beaten, but now brightened with the kind of gaze adults reserve for wide-eyed children holding change in their hands and looking for just the right kind of ice cream.

  My eyes followed his to the young boy he addressed. Santiago's tennis shoes were dusty, his slacks struggling to stay up above his narrow hips. Thick chocolate-colored hair curled over the collar of his white shirt and a too heavy looking book bag hung off-center between his shoulder blades. He scooted back and forth along the glass case with the different ice cream flavors.

  The boy was about eight years old, and despite knowing that many moons had passed since the day when it had been physically painful to resist rescuing my almost-child from the streets of Tijuana, I found myself transported back to the exact same emotion here in this cramped store, thousands of miles away. I wanted to brush my hand over Santiago's hair and this time ask if he wanted me to take him with me and give him a better life. A regret I had always carried with me, although I knew that even if the Mexican boy's answer would have been yes, I would not have been able to do anything about it. But I always wondered.

  "I'll take a scoop of Pink Bubblegum," Santiago said, "and the dulce de leche."

  "Two scoops coming up." The jowly cashier began scraping the ice cream into a fist-size ball.

  I blew out a breath that took those long-ago feelings with it. Santiago wasn't someone who was forced to sell gum to tourists, I reminded myself. He wore a school uniform and his parents had given him money for ice cream. That's how little boys should be living. But I couldn't resist the urge to run my fingers over his hair, of making believe for one brief moment that this cute kid could be mine.

  "I have to pay for this tostonera anyhow," I said to the cashier. "Why don't I get this young man's ice cream as well." My hand came to rest on Santiago's shoulder. "That way you can keep your money for another one tomorrow."

  I wanted to meet the boy's eyes with a warm smile, but it froze like a statue's as I looked at two pupils shiny as onyx floating in pools of almost translucent whitish blue.

  "Really?" His young voice vibrated with excitement.

  I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, really."

  "What do you say to the lady, Santi?" The cashier asked, handing him the cone with the gooey caramel and unnaturally pink looking scoops.

  "Muchas gracias, Señora." He shoved his change into his pocket, grasped the cone with both hands and turned for the door so quickly that my question about his unusual eyes was still forming in my throat by the time he'd rounded the door and was gone.

  "That'll be five sixty-eight." The cashier's words unfroze my head from staring at the door, and I fumbled for my wallet.

  "Um, would you be able to tell me how I can get to Calle Padre Martínez," I said, placing the bills into his hand.

  "Sure. You want to take a right on Avenida Luíz Muñoz Marín, then turn left on Calle Vicente Rodríguez, and another right on Calle Fernando Colón and it's the next corner." He handed me my change and the bag with the tostonera. "That was nice of you, buying Santiago his ice cream."

  I made a quick mental note of the street names and smiled. "He reminded me of a boy I knew a long time ago. Only that child didn't have eyes like this one's."

  The lines across the cashier's face deepened and his cheeks shimmied as he chuckled. "Not too many people do. You have a nice afternoon, Señorita."

  I wanted to ask more questions, but he was already greeting a woman handing him cleaning supplies, so I slowly made my way to the door and back out into the sun.

  Of course it was only natural for Rafael's family line to continue growing, but it still surprised me to see yet someone else with his eyes. No doubt the boy was related to both Tee and Rafael.

  As I walked along the avenue, I tried laying out my conversation with Tee. First we'd probably chat about the amazing jewelry he makes, and then I figured it wouldn't seem too inappropriate to squeeze in a question or two about his family. If he knew the designs Rafael invented, surely he must know about him.

  My heart began to race as I envisioned myself having the conversation. I would be able to see Rafael in Tee's movements, hear his voice, touch him. Mulling over possible scenarios for the encounter, I continued my walk along shade-free street after street.

  Maybe it was the knowledge that all of Puerto Rico measured little over a hundred and thirty miles in length and forty in width that gave me the false illusion that walking along those three streets couldn't possibly take all that much time. Especially, I mused in my sun-warped mind, considering how many towns dotted the island. There just was no way they could be as spread out as Cayey was turning out to be. To make matters worse, not much was going on in terms of shops to duck in to, and the best I could do was slurp piraguas from two different vendors along the way. That to me seemed to be the business to own, they must be making money hand over fist from souls like me who wandered around dazed from the heat.

  I pushed up the long sleeves of my T-shirt several blocks ago, finally feeling comfortable in showing the bracelet I had been careful to hide from Valentín. We had managed to steer clear of talking about what happened yesterday, and I didn't want to give him any point of reference to bring it up. Discarding the last piragua paper cone, I turned onto Calle Fernando Colón. It was devoid of people, just a few buildings and some welcome shade-giving trees. The next corner had to be the street I was looking for. My pulse was beating faster, the heat almost forgotten. As I stood at the intersection, I scanned all four crossroads. No dark Mustang anywhere.

  Checking the numbers on the card, I had about another half a block to go, but that was laughable compared to what I already covered. I was so absorbed in anticipation that I barely managed to sidestep a sticky puddle. Just to make sure my white tennis shoes really missed everything, I stopped and looked down. Yet I never did check if anything was sticking to my shoes as I stared intently at the pink and caramel-colored glob spread around a crushed cone. A chill ran along my moisture-drenched spine.

  "Freaky coincidence." I muttered to myself, looking up and down the street one more time, this time in search of a small boy with a crooked book bag. A pinkish-brown footstep lead straight ahead and I followed. If the footprint would have been the size of Santiago's tennis shoe, maybe I would have just felt a twinge that my darling little boy with the expressive eyes had tripped and lost his cone as so often happens with small children. But it was an adult print and the tiny knot I felt earlier in my stomach now added another tight loop to itself.

  A tree-lined alley veered off to the right, following the length of some warehouses. I turned to follow its trail and hadn't taken but a few paces when I saw Valentín standing at the far end, the trunk of the midnight blue Mustang open by his side. He flung a book bag inside – one identical to Santiago's. The way he looked once more across the width of the trunk, I prayed fervently that it wasn't Santiago himself he was looking at, yet the ever growing knot in the pit of my stomach made me suspect my prayer came too late.

  "Police," I breathed. "I need to call the police." Hidden behind a healthy-sized trunk I fumbled through my purse
until I found my phone. But my trembling hand dropped it as it rang no sooner than I pulled it out. I scrambled to pick it up and answer, my heart double-pounding as I heard Valentín's voice.

  "Hey there," he said, sounding light and happy. "How's your shopping excursion going?"

  "Hey." I extended the word longer than necessary. "I'm…it's good. I…I got the tostonera. A really authentic one."

  Valentín grunted and I heard him starting the engine. Back up, Mel, back up! I hurried around the front of the building, then scurried around the other side only to find not one tree growing behind which to hide. Pure panic made me drop into the lowest squat I'd ever crouched in. The Mustang drove past me.

  "Are you done with work," I asked, a bit too breathless.

  "For today, yes," Valentín replied. "Where are you? You sound winded."

  "Guess I'm not used to this much walking after all," I said.

  "I didn't think it was a good idea in this heat, but you wouldn't listen. Tell me where you are and I'll come get you."

  With the car out of view, I stretched to full height again, crossing the street and fast-walking the way I had come, back toward Calle Vicente Rodríguez. "I'm in the middle between intersections right now," I said, trying hard not to sound so breathless again. "Let me call you back as soon as I get to the corner so I can tell you the street name."

  "Why do you want to hang up? Just keep walking and talking to me."

  It could have been my imagination, which was pretty much going rampant right now, but Valentín's voice seemed to have a dangerous and suspicious tone to it.

  "My phone battery, it's almost empty." I practically shouted into the mobile as though I'd just thought of a prize-winning contest answer. "By the time I realized I didn't have the charger plugged in, you were already picking me up this morning. The little bar is almost used up. Let me call you right back." Without waiting for him to say anything else, I hung up and broke into a healthy jog, aching to put more distance between me and the scene of the crime before he would pull up to collect me.