A Second Chance at Murder

by Diana Orgain

  He could be planning to lead us deep in the woods right now and kill us.

  And yet, he’d helped Dad and me out of a jam twice.

  “Miguel, did you know Annalise?” I asked finally.

  He frowned and pointed to the camera. Cheryl probably wouldn’t like us discussing anything about the murder, but I couldn’t help myself.

  I waved a hand around nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, they’ll edit it out.”

  Even still, Miguel whipped the camera off his shoulder and turned it off. “We shouldn’t discuss it. Don’t talk about her,” he whispered urgently.

  “Why?” I asked.

  Dad was marching in front of us and he suddenly turned around. “What’s going on?”

  Miguel shrugged. “No good can come from it.”

  “So you did know her,” I pressed. “How well did you know her? Are you part of ETA, too? I know you went to the meeting last night.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not part of ETA, don’t be crazy. I’m Aragonese!”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m from Jaca. We are Aragonese, here. Not Basque. ETA is Basque. There is no one here in Jaca friendly with ETA. They put a bomb near our Plaza de Toros last summer and killed three people.” His face was angry now and I regretted causing him distress.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Señora Antonia at the B&B told me Annalise was ETA and I saw you go to that meeting—”

  “It wasn’t an ETA meeting,” he said. “We are anti-ETA. You didn’t stay for the end of the meeting.”

  “No,” I admitted.

  “That building had been taken over by ETA last summer. When they planned the Plaza de Toros bombing. We found it last week and took it back. Last night we burned their banner.”

  Miguel put the camera back on his shoulder and turned it on, indicating that our conversation was over.

  The trail we were on had high grass and it scratched my legs. My ankle felt numb and I ached to be at the finish line.

  I mulled over what Miguel had said. So he and the others at the meeting were anti-ETA. Actually in terms of a motive for murder, it didn’t matter. Someone against the ETA could be just as likely to kill Annalise as someone who was in support of ETA. In fact, a case could be made that someone who was anti-ETA might have a stronger motive.

  As I hiked behind Dad I noted his tan shoulders were getting red. If Dad was getting burned, what about me? My skin was fairer than Snow White’s. I touched my shoulder and already felt the sting of the burn.

  “Isn’t there any shade around here?” I complained.

  “Look,” Dad said, pointing up ahead.

  The trail cleared into an orange grove and at the end of the grove was a small white cottage. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see a cottage in my life!

  Miguel plucked an orange off a tree and broke it open, it was bright red on the inside. He handed half to me and half to Dad. “Sanguinello, ‘blood orange.’ The best of Spain.”

  The orange was the sweetest fruit I’d tasted in my life.

  Dad said, “Forget almonds. I should grow these.”

  We approached the cottage and noticed several goats and chickens in the backyard. Miguel called out and a tiny woman wearing an apron emerged. She greeted Miguel warmly and then turned to us and fired away in Spanish. Her face friendly and animated as she spoke.

  Dad peppered her with a slew of questions. Which Miguel kindly translated. The woman wanted to feed us, insisting we eat some chorizo sandwiches she’d recently made. Her husband joined us on the porch and seemed only too eager to talk to Dad through Miguel about current farming practices in Spain.

  “We have to go,” I said to Dad.

  Miguel explained that we were in a race and needed a ride, but Dad waved an impatient hand at us and continued chatting with the farmer, Augustine.

  The woman, Josefa, tsked over my red shoulders and retreated into the cottage. She returned with Nivea and slathered some on. Part of me wanted to move in with Josefa and Augustine. I could live here, eat oranges and chorizo all summer long. But I knew we had to get going.

  Miguel seemed to echo my sentiments, because he said in a loud voice, “¡Bueno!” and clapped his hands authoritatively.

  Augustine sprang to his feet and disappeared into the cottage. He returned, jiggling a pair of keys in his hands and gestured to the beat-up pickup at the end of the lane. He laughed heartily and motioned for us to follow him.

  Miguel filmed us jumping into the back of the pickup. When he got a shot he was happy with, he climbed into the front with Augustine.

  “Do you think we have a chance?” Dad asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. We probably should have passed on those chorizo sandwiches if we really wanted to stay in the race.”

  Dad looked horrified. “Pass on the sandwiches? Those were the highlight of my trip!”

  I laughed. “I know.” After a moment, I asked, “What do you make of Victoria? She has a fierce side to her, doesn’t she?”

  Dad nodded.

  “Did you see her bang those rocks together?” I asked.

  “She’s an angry young girl,” Dad said. “And didn’t you say the victim had a head wound?”

  “Yeah, it’s disturbing. The night Scott disappeared, Victoria was out roaming around. Parker was looking for her for a while.”

  “I can’t believe they left us like that,” Dad said. “Do you think they preplanned it?”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood to attention. Could she be hoping we’d not make it back?

  “How could they have planned it, though? They didn’t know I would fall out of the raft.”

  Dad shrugged. “Do you think Parker deliberately steered us into those rocks?

  I sighed. “I don’t know. I hate to think that. It must have been an accident.”

  The trunk meandered along the road until we crested up a hill. Ahead there was a rickety bridge. “We’re not crossing that! Are we?” Dad asked, a look of alarm on his face.

  I giggled. “This trip is full of surprises!”

  Once over the bridge, we took a left turn onto an old dirt road, rugged with grooves and dips. I hung on to Dad, thinking we’d be bounced right out of the truck. Branches swept against the sides of the truck dangerously close to our faces.

  I tucked my face into Dad’s shoulder. “We’ve got to be there soon, right? And if we’re not last, I’m quitting.”

  Dad said, “Aren’t you having fun? If I hadn’t been scared out of my mind about losing you, I think I would have actually enjoyed the rapids.”

  I snorted. “I think I prefer the Storybook Land boat ride at Disneyland.”

  Dad chortled. “Tell it to Becca and Cheryl, maybe they can arrange the next episode there.”

  Augustine honked the horn and I looked up to see the familiar crew bus along with the blue tarp. Dad let out a whoop and jumped out of the back of the truck.

  “We’re here!” Dad screamed.

  In the circle, I spotted Cooper and his partner, Todd. They were clearly safe and next to them was Double D, seemingly in second place. I hobbled out of the pickup truck and ran behind Dad toward the circle.

  “Where’s Victoria and Parker?” Dad asked, as we ran.

  I looked down the hill toward the river, a sinking feeling overtaking my stomach, only two rafts were docked.

  We entered the circle and Harris, the host, clapped his hands. “Georgia! Gordon! Welcome. I’m happy to say you are the third team to arrive and are therefore safe. You will be able to start the race tomorrow one hour and nine minutes after Double D.”

  Double D beamed bright white smiles at us.

  Cooper wiggled his eyebrows. “Took you long enough. Nice ride. How’d you manage it?”

  Dad grimaced. “Long story.”

  We both
glanced nervously at Becca and Cheryl wondering if they would allow us our third-place finish, or disqualify us for hitching a ride. Before anyone could complain, another raft came into view. We’d just beat Victoria and Parker’s arrival by minutes.

  The raft struggled to dock, overshooting the distance and almost catching another current. Victoria and Parker scrambled out of the boat and ran up the hill. Their jaws were agape as they took in the scenery. Augustine standing by his pickup truck, Dad and I standing in the circle. It took a moment for them to process everything. In the meantime, they continued their frantic run to the circle.

  Harris’s expression was solemn as he said, “Victoria, Parker, we’re so happy you made it through this challenge safely. But I’m sorry to say, you are the fourth and final team to arrive and are therefore eliminated.”

  Parker had a slack expression, his shoulder hunched, a posture of pure exhaustion and defeat.

  “No!” Victoria roared.

  Harris pressed his hands together and frowned sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

  Parker cleared his throat. “Uh . . . thank you for the experience—”

  “No!” Victoria screamed again. “No, no, no!” Her face turned beet red and she pointed her finger at me. “You cheated! You cheated!” Suddenly she rushed at me and wrapped her hands around my neck, screeching, “You cheeeeeeaaaaaaateeeeeed!”

  Sixteen

  EXT. RIVERBANK DAY

  Victoria is looking down away from the camera. She is dressed in a yellow life jacket, her face is sunburned, her hair matted and tangled, eyes red and swollen.

  VICTORIA

  (sniffles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand) Um . . . I’m Victoria Wilson, one of the contestants on Expedition Improbable. (lets out a muffled cry) Well, I was one of the contestants on Expedition Improbable! I’ve just been eliminated, but I don’t think it’s very fair. (She bites her knuckle and searches the sky in an overly dramatic way.) I really wanted to win. Winning would be everything. There’s this thing I want to do back home and now . . . (She shrugs.) I guess it doesn’t matter. Nobody would vote for me after the way I behaved here. (She shakes her head and cries violently.) I don’t know what came over me. (wailing) I’m so ashamed.

  (A dejected Parker joins her.)

  PARKER

  Vicky, you gotta suck it up.

  VICTORIA

  (leans her head on Parker’s shoulder) I’m sorry I ruined this for us, Parker.

  PARKER

  (shrugs) You were just being yourself.

  VICTORIA

  (gasps) No. Really? Come on, the competition brought out the worst in me, that’s all. That woman, Georgia, brought out the worst in me!

  PARKER

  You say that about everyone.

  VICTORIA

  (slugs him in the shoulder) Parker!

  PARKER

  See what I mean?

  • • •

  That evening I could barely stand to shower, my skin was lobster red and I had to borrow buckets full of aloe vera from Double D. It had taken several crew members along with Dad to pull Victoria off of me. It was little consolation when Cheryl had congratulated me on a fine dramatic moment and credited me with being irritating enough to get choked on camera.

  Victoria wasn’t talking to me and she and Parker were getting ready to be taken to the bus stop to leave the country via the Madrid airport. I couldn’t believe Sergio would give them clearance to leave, but right now I had bigger fish to fry.

  Becca had gone off with Kyle and one of the local crew people, Juan Jose, to scout out the next location for the contest. Cheryl had somehow talked Dad into watching the jousting tournament they’d missed last night. Miraculously, Dad, being the trooper he was, had agreed to accompany her despite his hangover.

  I really wanted to win the contest now. Dad needed the money and he deserved it.

  As I hurried to get dressed, a knock on my door interrupted me. “Just a minute,” I called out, as I shrugged into my clean jeans. “Who is it?” I asked, walking over to the door. I hesitated when no answer came and cautiously cracked the door open an inch.

  Cooper was standing in the doorway waiting patiently, his million-dollar grin on his face.

  I pulled open the door. “Yeah?”

  Cooper pointed at my bare feet. “What are you doing, girl? We’re all downstairs having some dinner. Then we’re going into the town square for more dancing.”

  “Not me. Thank you. I . . .”

  “What are you talking about, ‘not me’? Come on!”

  “No, no, no. I’m sunburned. I . . .”

  “Sunburned? Shoot, don’t you know you need fluids for a sunburn,” he said.

  I laughed. “Sangría will not help a sunburn.”

  “The hell, you say.”

  I laughed again in spite of myself. “Well, I am hungry. You may convince me to go down with you. On one condition.”

  He cocked a brow at me. “I like conditions.”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. Is Victoria still down there or have they left for the bus station?” I asked.

  Cooper was so big he took up the entire doorway. “Ha! That little scruff of a girl sure does talk a lot of trash. She got you scared? Is that what’s on your mind?”

  “I’m not scared!” I said.

  He glanced up and down the hallway.

  “What are you looking at? Is someone in the hallway?” After filming all day it was hard to shake the idea of someone always listening.

  “No,” he said, but he looked unconvinced. “I thought I heard something.”

  “Come in,” I said, doubting my own sanity. For all I knew, Cooper could have killed Annalise, but it wouldn’t have been the first time I was alone with a murderer. I was after all, a trained police officer, albeit unemployed.

  Cooper smiled slowly. “Okay, sweetheart. Have it your way.” He came in and glanced around the room. My side was clean and tidy; Becca’s looked as if her suitcase had thrown up and strewn articles of clothing throughout. “Wow,” Cooper said. He hesitated, then lumbered over to the small writing desk in the corner.

  “Have a seat,” I said, gesturing to the white wooden chair in front of the desk. He had to remove three tops and two skirts before he could sit down. I seated myself on my bed across the room from him.

  “So, why don’t you want to come downstairs?” he asked. “It can’t be because of Victoria? Is it Todd?”

  I laughed. “I’m tired. That’s all. But since you mention it, what’s up with him?”

  He shrugged. “Dude’s a strange duck. I know he rubs a lot of people the wrong way. But he’s had my back a long time. He’d do anything for me.”

  I squinted at him. “He’d do anything for you, huh?”

  Even kill?

  There were plenty of cases where friends took the fall for high-profile athletes. I knew of a few who’d done jail time and a few who’d gotten off, even when we were convinced they were guilty.

  Cooper gave me his signature deep chuckle, the kind that sounded like an approaching locomotive. “Now, don’t get all distracted with Todd. You know how good friends are.” He leaned back in the chair and looked around the room. “So, where’s your friend?”

  Aha! He’d come to check on Becca.

  I smiled at his cockiness. “You want to know about my friend? What, now that Victoria’s gone, you’re looking for another girl to take her place?”

  He pretended to be offended. “What do you mean?”

  Finally I had something I could use to leverage against him. Loosen his tongue. “I’ll tell you where Becca is if you tell me about that night at the campground.”

  He swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t have anything to tell, or I would have told you already. I just took a walk. I knew Victoria wanted to hook up with me. You know, I talk a good
game, but I’m here to win the contest. I can’t really get messed up with chicks right now. There’s a lot of cash at stake.”

  I studied him for a moment. “Oh? You need the cash, Cooper?”

  He looked back at me blankly. “Well, yeah. Of course. Why else would I be doing this?”

  I laughed. “Some people want to do it for the fun of it.”

  He shook his head. “Maybe that mother-and-son. They don’t know what it feels like to have cameras follow you around all day. Or the Double Ds, they want the limelight so they can get discovered. Have you heard them sing? They’re pretty good.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. But you’ve got money, right Cooper? Big NFL star like you?”

  He leaned forward. “Well, you have money, too, right? You won the last show.”

  I shrugged. “No tax planning . . . old medical bills . . .”

  “Me and you are in the same boat, sister. So where’s your cute friend?”

  I understood now. He wanted to know about Becca because he wanted to get information out of her about the next contest.

  “She won’t tell you anything.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me, giving his most irresistible and practiced smile. “How do you know?”

  “She doesn’t tell me anything and I’m a lot cuter than you are.”

  He laughed. “Don’t underestimate me.”

  “You don’t need to cheat. You’re going to win. No one can compete with you.”

  He drummed his fingers on his legs. “Yeah, well, don’t forget about Todd.”

  “What about him?”

  Cooper got up and headed toward the door, mumbling, “Weak link.”

  As soon as Cooper left, I knew it was time for action. I put on my sneakers and slipped out of the back door of the B&B.

  Seventeen

  The doorman held the heavy glass door open for me as I entered the Spanish Moon. Inside, the lobby resembled a historic mansion. Framed in the center of the far wall was a fresco and off to the left was a wrought-iron elevator. I followed the fancy red carpeting over to the mahogany front desk.