Smothered In Lies (A Mexican Cafe Cozy Mystery Series Book 3)

by Holly Plum

  “My apologies." The detective bowed his head, acting much nicer toward Kristi than he had with Mari. Perhaps that was because Mari and Detective Price knew each other better. "And how, may I ask, was your relationship with Vance? Did you seem anxious about anything? Had you two been arguing about anything?”

  Kristi took a deep breath. “Yeah, we've been fighting more than usual lately, but what couple doesn’t go through a rough patch?” A tear ran down her cheek. "We loved each other, Detective."

  Mari remembered her dad once saying that people who really loved each other didn’t need to say they loved each other. But Mari hadn't found that to be true in her own love life, though an unlucky one it was. Mari studied Kristi as she wiped away another tear. Grieving the death of a boyfriend made just about anyone defensive.

  While Detective Price interviewed Benny, Mari approached Kristi carrying a cold bottled water. “I thought you might like this,” Mari said, taking a seat next to her.

  Kristi took the bottle of water, opened it, and drank without saying a word. For a long moment, they sat together in silence staring out at the lot that was slowly emptying.

  “Vance was an archeologist, you know,” Kristi finally said. Tears were slowly forming at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't make an effort to clear them away. “That’s what we were doing in town. We are here on a dig and just stopped for some lunch.”

  “A dig?” said Mari responded. "I can't imagine that you would find much around here."

  “You’d be surprised,” Kristi said. “This whole area is rich in Native American lore and artifacts. We were scoping out a potential dig site, just outside of town.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Mari listened intently.

  Kristi nodded. “Of course, it’s useless now. I mean, I don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t think I have the heart to continue this expedition.”

  “I understand,” Mari said. “It’s not anywhere near the same, but when I broke off my engagement years ago, I couldn’t even live in the same town as my ex-fiancé. I had to get out.”

  “Sometimes that’s all you can do,” Kristi agreed.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what were you looking for?” Mari asked.

  Kristi sniffed lightly. “Vance was really interested in the folklore surrounding a famed Native American warrior, Red Arrow. He’d been in love with those stories since he was a child. It was his dream to come out here and investigate them first hand. That was all he wanted to do."

  There was no holding back the tears now. Kristi glanced around the lot as if looking for an escape, or a place where she could cry without fear of embarrassment. Instead, Mari placed a hand on Kristi's shoulder and patted it lightly.

  “I am sorry,” Mari said, trying to console her. “I’ve never lost someone I was close to. Not like this.”

  Mari knelt down and scratched Tabasco, who was straining against his leash and struggling to break free. “Come on now. Be good, Tabasco." But her words had no effect. Tabasco continued to snarl as he always did whenever he was in the presence of someone untrustworthy.

  “No one here is going to hurt you,” Mari reassured him. “Whoever the killer was, they probably fled as soon as the deed was done.”

  Kristi rubbed her forehead with her palms, lost in disbelief.

  “You know the worst thing about all this?” Kristi stated. “We were just celebrating this past weekend. Vance had just finished paying off his student loans. That was the night he asked me to marry him.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Do you need a lift back to your hotel?” A middle-aged man, slightly overweight and holding a cigarette between two fingers looked at Kristi. Mari had seen the man once before.

  “Where are y’all staying?” Mari asked Kristi.

  “At the Lone Star,” the man interrupted. “The only place in this crummy town that isn’t infested with bed bugs.”

  Mari felt an instinctive dislike toward him. She scolded herself for it, knowing it was wrong to judge others based on their appearance. But after hearing the man trash-talk the town Mari had grown up in, she didn’t feel that guilty.

  “What’s your name, sir?” Mari asked in a friendly tone.

  “Lester,” the man answered, placing his cigarette in his mouth and shaking her hand. “Lester Carr. And I think I've seen you before at that Mexican joint in town.”

  “I'm Mari,” she replied, purposefully leaving out her last name. It was Mari's subtle way of testing the man. Mari wanted to know if he was indeed a local like she had first thought.

  “Yes, that's right,” Lester said, “Your family runs that restaurant. Oh, what is it called? Lito Bueno's?”

  “That's right," Mari confirmed. “It was named after my grandfather. We called him abuelito. So, what are you doing hanging around here?”

  “These fine northerners hired me to drive them around,” Lester replied. “I've been living in this town for quite some time. I'm almost certain that we've met before, Mari.”

  "It is very possible, especially if you've ever eaten at my family's restaurant." Mari knew he would remember if he looked at her long enough, and sure enough, Lester nodded.

  “That’s it." Lester snapped his fingers. "I had one too many to drink, and you cut me off.”

  Mari shrugged, thinking of all of the drunks she'd had her brothers escort from the property. Every once and a while a drunk like Lester gave the waitresses a hard time. It was a downfall of having a happy hour every night of the week.

  “Right,” Mari said. “Well, it happens from time to time.”

  “I’ve been thrown out of so many bars,” he said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “My great aunt Polly says I'm a right piece of work. She has a ranch just up the road, you know. It's the biggest house I've ever laid eyes on. Maybe you know it?”

  “I don't think so,” Mari replied.

  “Well, that's surprising." Lester scratched his head. "Like I said, the house is enormous.

  "He isn't exaggerating," Kristi chimed in.

  "Aunt Polly called me out of the blue one day telling me she'd found some arrowheads while she and my uncle Darryl were hunting bobcats. She was convinced that they belonged to some Native American warrior that's famous around these parts. I went to one of the university's to see if the arrowheads were worth anything and within a couple of days I got a call from an archeologist wanting to search Aunt Polly's land.”

  "Yes." Kristi sighed. "Vance set this whole thing up, and now…" She paused and didn't finish her sentence.

  “I see.” Mari did what she could to hurry along the conversation. “Well, did you find anything?”

  “You’ll have to ask them about that.” Lester scratched the back of his head, ruffling the hair so it stood straight up. “Like I said before, I’m just the driver.”

  "Excuse me for a moment." Kristi stood up and left Mari to talk with Lester alone. Mari did what she could to make the best of the awkward situation.

  Mari laughed politely. “So, how many times had you been out in search of buried treasure?”

  “Must have been four or five times now,” Lester answered. “I love my aunt, so I don’t mind driving around her property. She makes the greatest pecan pie this side of the Mississippi. Aunt Polly and Uncle Darryl don’t get as many visitors as they used to, so they leaped at the chance to host these youngins'.”

  “Pecan pie, you say?” Mari tries to remember the last time she'd had a slice. That wasn't the sort of food her family made at the restaurant.

  “It's tasty.” Lester glanced around, eyeing Detective Price who was still interviewing onlookers. Despite the grim circumstances, Lester continued to seize the opportunity to talk. "I've been eatin' it since I was a boy. Aunt Polly's is like my second home."

  “So you know her land pretty well, then?” Mari asked for the sake of conversation.

  “I know it better than I know my own apartment,” Lester responded. “So, who better to help a couple of archeologists navigate that rugg
ed terrain? And if I can make some money in the process while getting fat on my aunt’s honey wheat rolls, even better.”

  Mari smiled, though she couldn’t help suspecting that Aunt Polly’s honey wheat rolls had very little to do with Lester's beer belly. “Sounds like the perfect little setup. Too bad something like had to happen."

  “Yes,” Lester agreed. "It's horrible what happened to that fella."

  “Did you notice anything strange between Kristi, Vance, and Benny?" Mari glanced at Benny who was studying Kristi in the corner. Kristi paced across the lot checking her cell phone.

  “The first couple of trips out were very light-hearted,” Lester said. “But after that, I sensed some tension between the three of them. I chalked that up to frustration. As far as I could tell, they hadn't found what they were searching for. I did take them to where Aunt Polly found the arrowheads just like they'd asked."

  “Did they say anything about the progress they'd made?”

  “Kristi was getting tired and wanted to call off the dig,” Lester confessed.

  “Any idea why?” Mari continued, having found an unexpected nugget of information about Vance's murder.

  “No." Lester sighed. "As far as I know, they were satisfied with my services. Vance even called me the group’s hero once because they would have been completely lost out there without me.”

  “I can't blame them. Everything outside of town looks the same to me. Nothing but dirt." Mari folded her arms.

  “I could tell you weren't the adventurer type," Lester replied.

  Mari watched the detective move on to another group of people. “Well, this has been enlightening. Thanks for the chat, Mr.—”

  “Carr,” Lester said again, extending his hand. “Lester Carr. Maybe I'll give your restaurant another try.”

  Mari smiled, wondering if she would have to escort him out again. Lester walked over to his car and waited for Kristi and Benny before he drove down the street to their hotel. Alex and David both chuckled as they glared at their sister.

  “I remember that guy." Alex approached Mari, still chuckling. "Another town drunk."

  “Apparently we threw him out of the restaurant once,” Mari said.

  But Alex didn’t seem to remember this. “I don't know about that, but he ordered four smothered burritos for lunch. Do you know how big those things are? Heck, I can barely finish one. I thought he was just going to take them home or something, but nope. He ate all four and I watched him do it.”

  “You watch your customers eat?” Mari frowned. "Maybe you should stop doing that. It's creepy."

  “Hey, you would have watched that guy too,” Alex said. “I mean, I just couldn’t believe it. You don't see people eat like that every day.”

  “Oh, you mean Burrito Guy?” David chimed in, joining the conversation.

  "His name is Lester," Mari clarified.

  “Yeah, that guy is nuts.” David shivered just thinking about it. "I'm surprised he didn't barf all over the place."

  “Agreed,” Alex added. “And I've known my fair share of nutters."

  “That's great,” Mari replied sarcastically. She followed her brothers into the the food truck. “As much as I would love to hear more stories about your customers, I'm more concerned with the man who died here today. Do you two have any ideas what might have happened?”

  “Sorry.” shrugged Alex shrugged as he made himself a burrito. “Maybe it was Mr. Chun?”

  “Mr. Chun wasn't even here,” Mari pointed out. Mr. Chun hated Lito Bueno’s Mexican Restaurant, and everybody in town knew it. “I guess his daughter Jia was around. Though I'm sure she has an alibi just like everyone else the detective is talking to.”

  “And no one heard the gunshot,” David remarked. “I guess we won't be blasting our tunes no more. Our customers will now have to eat in silence.”

  “Do you think that man was killed somewhere else?" Mari continued to speculate. She knew that if she didn't her family had a chance at taking the blame since both of her brothers had been at the scene of the crime. "He was alive when he pulled up with his friends for lunch. They all ordered smothered burritos including Lester who ate his in front of you two.”

  "Yeah he did," Alex muttered.

  "Things just don't add up." Mari rubbed her forehead. She knew that there was a missing piece to the puzzle somewhere.

  “The truth will come out eventually,” Alex responded. “It always does. The killer was here today. Who knows when and for how long but the killer was here."

  "That's pretty deep, bro," David added.

  "I know," Alex confessed. "I'm starting to freak myself out a little. I need a taco."

  “Let's save this discussion for another time,” Mari said. Tabasco broke free of his leash again and went running off. “I think I might need to take Tabasco home before he assaults another garbage can.”

  Mari tried to coax Tabasco out from under a fold-up table with leftover meat. Her phone buzzed. She looked at it and recognized the number from her family's restaurant. It was probably her father calling to tell her to get back to Lito Bueno's to tend to customers.

  “Hello?” she said, holding out a handful of ground beef to her dog, who approached it and sniffed it suspiciously.

  “Mari, I need you to get over here immediately.” Indeed it was her father, José Ramirez.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I—mmph—can,” Mari replied, grabbing the dog by his legs and standing up. “Now isn't a good time for me to talk.”

  "Just get back here," her father insisted. His voice sounded more keen than usual.

  "What's going on?" Mari asked. "And don't give me a lecture about letting Tabasco run through the dining room because he's right here with me."

  “I found something in the books," Mari's father responded. "You’re not going to believe it. I'll show when you get here.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mari’s father, José Ramirez, had owned Lito Bueno’s Mexican Restaurant for over thirty years. It was his life’s work and the one thing apart from his family that he was most proud of. For as long as Mari could remember theirs had been the only Mexican restaurant in town, and that was largely due to Mr. Ramirez’s business savvy. He spent hours every day in his office hunched over books and ledgers. He expected the rest of the family to work as hard as he had, and was inclined to show frustration when he sensed that his children weren’t as invested as he was.

  Mr. Ramirez disliked animals, and he disliked Tabasco the most. He was constantly warning Mari not to bring the dog into the restaurant, but this was one of the few areas in which Mari refused to listen.

  “Get that mutt out of here,” José shouted as Mari walked into his office with Tabasco on a leash. “He doesn’t belong here, and you know it.”

  “Dad, we’ve talked about this many times,” Mari argued. “I’m not leaving Tabasco in a parked car in hundred-degree weather. And he gets into everything if I leave him at my apartment.”

  "Haven't you heard of a crate?" Mr. Ramirez asked.

  "With the hours I work, he would be locked up all day and night," Mari responded.

  “I don't see why you even bother having a dog." Mr. Ramirez sighed as he glared at Tabasco. The dog had earned his name the day he got into the restaurant's box of hot sauce packets.

  “Asking a dog-lover not to own a dog is like asking an entrepreneur not to run a business.” Mari paused, hoping her analogy would resonate wither father.

  “It’s not the same thing,” he replied. For a moment they both looked at each other in stubborn silence. The family resemblance would have been striking to any observer.

  “He’s a good dog, okay?” Mari finally said. “He’s clean. He's nice to customers. He stays out of trouble…most of the time.”

  “Mari, do you really want me to bring up the incident with the tabasco again?” Mr. Ramirez asked.

  “That was one time, and he was a puppy,” Mari argued.

  “I guess I just don’t see why you feel the need to bri
ng an animal into your life,” Mr. Ramirez continued, his arms folded.

  “It’s hard to explain if you’ve never loved an animal,” Mari said.

  “It's not a hard one for the checkbook. Think of all the money you could save if you didn’t have to buy food every month. All the money you wouldn’t be spending on veterinarian checkups.” Mr. Ramirez raised his eyebrows. He was always thinking of new ways to save money.

  “You also could’ve saved a lot of money by not having kids,” Mari joked.

  “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Tabasco helps me out,” Mari said, ignoring her father's response. “It gets lonely sometimes in my apartment. And if there’s an intruder, Tabasco lets me know. He’s a smart dog. He can smell danger. He’s saved my life more than once. That alone makes him worth the price.”

  “If you weren’t so prone to getting into trouble in the first place, you wouldn't need him,” Mr. Ramirez pointed out.

  “That’s a whole different issue,” Mari muttered, rolling her eyes. She wondered why she was even having this discussion with her father. The subject of Tabasco the dog was one that they never agreed on. “Well, Tabasco wakes me up so that I'm to work on time every morning.”

  “An alarm clock will do that for you too,” Mr. Ramirez said. “But I didn’t call you in here to complain about your dog.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” said Mari mumbled. She took a deep breath. “Why did you call me in here then?”

  As it turned out, Mr. Ramirez had discovered that one of his employees had been giving away free meals. Not wanting to lose any more money, José Ramirez had conducted an investigation of his own. A week later he had learned that Chrissy, a bubbly waitress in her mid-twenties, was the culprit.

  “I need you to fire Chrissy for me,” Mr. Ramirez said. "You were the one who hired her."

  “And you're the one who owns the place,” said Mari said, aghast. “I can't fire Chrissy. Customers love her. She's one of our best waitresses.”

  “She's costing me a fortune in freebies,” he argued. “Chrissy has to go. I'm very sorry Mari, but she's a good looking girl. She'll find another job in no time.”