by Holly Plum
Lester had been right about one thing. The Lone Star was the nicest hotel in town. Aquariums and flower displays lined the hall on either side of the lobby, and an antique desk stood against the walls. A mirror above the desk reflected the doorway and gave each customer a perfect view of everyone coming and going. Beside it sat a plump armchair where a girl no older than sixteen by the looks of her absorbed in a book.
Mari made her way through the lobby and to the front desk. She held tight to Tabasco's leash and walked briskly ahead of him, hoping that the receptionist wouldn't notice the bulldog trailing behind her. Behind the front desk sat a woman Mari had known since junior high.
“Hey, Julie,” Mari said, idly playing with a collection of pens and avoiding Julie’s gaze. “I was wondering if you could maybe help me with something.”
“If you want me to let you into someone’s room,” Julie smugly replied, “I don't give favors to people anymore. You might as well scoot along.” Julie waved a hand.
Mari frowned and stamped her foot. Just when it looked like her investigation was going to end before it began, she turned and saw Kristi and Benny sitting together in the dining room. They were talking and laughing as if the murder had never happened. Underneath the table, Mari noticed that they were holding hands.
“You know what? Never mind.” Mari darted off in Kristi's direction. “Thanks, Julie.”
Kristi and Benny both froze for a moment when they saw Mari approaching their table. Benny made a loud exclamation of surprise and Kristi jerked her hand away, blushing intensely.
“Hey Mari—it’s Mari, isn’t it?” Kristi said, not quite able to conceal her embarrassment. “What brings you here at this hour?”
“I thought y’all might like to have breakfast with me,” Mari replied, genially sitting down and pulling out a green plastic container covered in tinfoil. Tabasco looked from Kristi to Benny and then sat comfortably at Mari's feet. Mari wondered why Tabasco didn't act this well-behaved at the restaurant.
“That is just what we are doing and nothing more than that,” Kristi said, with a particular emphasis on the last few words. “We wanted to eat breakfast together. But I’m not feeling well all of a sudden. It must be everything that has happened. I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Well, maybe this will help bring it back.” Mari unfolded the tinfoil to reveal a heaping pile of hot churros. “I made enough for all of us. And they’re still warm.” Mari took one out of the container and began munching on it like a carrot stick.
Kristi’s lip quivered at the question, and her eyes went glossy. She seemed keen to impress upon Mari how much she missed Vance, but Mari watched her quietly with eyes of deep suspicion. Mari was quite certain that Benny and Kristi hadn’t just met for breakfast this morning. They had spent the night together which meant that they had secretly been seeing each other the entire time she'd been dating Vance.
“How long had y’all known Vance?” Mari asked, pulling out another churro and chewing it thoughtfully.
“A while,” Kristi said, sniffing loudly. “And might I add that I miss him terribly.”
“What about you?” Mari said to Benny. This was the first time she'd spoken to him directly.
“Vance and I go way back,” Benny said. He touched his white cowboy hat and leaned back in his seat. “We met in college. We were both studied archeology. We got to talking, and we thought it would be cool if we partnered up and came searching for artifacts.”
“So you and Vance were close?” Mari questioned him.
“You could say that,” Benny responded. “We had a good working relationship.”
“Wow.” Mari nodded. She looked at Kristi and then at Benny. “And I assume you two met in college too?"
“Me and Benny?” Kristi clarified. “Yes, We've known each other a good while, I’d say.” She looked at Benny, who nodded. “We actually met—”
“Before Vance entered the picture,” Benny finished.
“Yes, I first met Benny at an archeological conference for college students in California," Kristi explained. "It ended up being a pretty lousy conference but I bumped into Benny, and he took me out for dinner. We sat in the parking lot of a fast food restaurant eating mozzarella sticks. Benny spent the whole time talking about how he was going to be the next Indiana Jones.” Kristi paused, a slight smile crossing her face.
“I invited her to come visit me in Dallas,’” Benny continued. “Vance was my roommate. Kristi and Vance hit it off from the start.”
“It's funny the way life works out,” Kristi said. “I fell hard for Vance. Being with him was like taking my first taste of champagne. There were straight up fireworks.”
Benny shook his head sadly. Even the warmest memories had a way of becoming bittersweet in death.
“So, what about this supposed Native American curse that everyone’s talking about?” Mari asked. “Do you two know anything about it?”
“Naturally, we've heard all the stories,” Benny replied. “It is all oral tradition, which obviously evolves over time. There are many versions of the story of the great warrior Red Arrow.”
“Vance knew them all by heart,” Kristi chimed in.
“Oh, yeah?” Mari said, leaning forward in her chair. “Did he find anything? Anything at all? Please, I find the legend fascinating."
"Possibly." Kristi gulped as she looked at Benny. "Look, I was too scared to say anything the day Vance died. I was in shock when we first met. I probably still am, but I can't keep holding onto this." She took a deep breath. “The morning before Vance died, he told Benny and me that he had something to show us. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now I wish I would have paid more attention.”
Benny nodded, dabbing his eyes with a napkin. “Vance wasn’t cautious enough.”
“I wonder what he had to say,” Mari said quietly. “And why he felt the need to keep it to himself.”
“I think we could figure it out,” said Kristi responded, “if we only had his field journal.”
“What happened to it?” Mari asked.
Kristi shrugged. “He had it with him when went to the food truck. He kept it in his backpack, but that backpack is also missing. We can’t find it anywhere. I think it must’ve been stolen.”
Mari look down at Tabasco as he let out a soft bark. Mari knew where she might find Vance's missing field journal.
CHAPTER TEN
Mari knew where she could find Vance’s backpack. She raced back to Lito Bueno’s Mexican Restaurant, where she found David and Alex clearing tables. The lunch rush had just ended. Tabasco leaped onto an empty table and began sniffing for crumbs. Mari didn't have time to discipline him as she usually did.
“The day of the murder—” Mari began, disregarding all forms of greetings.
“Hello, Mari,” Alex interrupted. "How about a Gee, thanks for covering for me today and lying to Dad about where I've been."
“Ditto," David added.
“Yes, hello Alex," Mari said, pausing in the middle of her story. "Hello, David. Thanks for covering for me."
"There you go," Alex responded gratefully.
"Please, continue," David added.
"You two said you’ve been picking up a lot of random stuff left behind by customers," Mari went on. "I’m hoping you haven’t given anything away yet because I need to look through your lost and found.”
“We don't just give stuff away, Mari,” David clarified. “We sell it.”
“Okay, but please tell me you haven’t sold anything yet. It’s important.” Mari stopped to collect her thoughts and glare at Tabasco before he disturbed any customers.
“Everything we’ve collected is in Dad's office,” Alex said as Mari turned and raced out of the dining room. Tabasco followed right behind her.
Mari wondered how her dad felt about his office becoming a veritable storehouse for forgotten items. Among the rubble, she saw action figures, a box of contact lenses, a denture, a toddler’s shoe, a songbook, a western novel, he
adphones, a wristband, a cheap watch, and a magazine that should never have been taken to a public place.
“What were any of these things doing by the food truck?” Mari said aloud as she dug through the mountain of items, tossing a bag of diapers onto the floor. Tabasco barked in response. Of course, the one thing Mari looked for was the one thing she couldn’t find.
Sweaty and frustrated, Mari vainly combed almost every inch of the room when the door opened. She jumped and turned around, feeling quite red in the face. It was her mother.
“Whatever you’re doing, you need to stop it right now,” Mrs. Ramirez said. “You have a date in about twenty minutes.”
Mari gave a small yelp and looked at her mother with disbelieving eyes. “What did you just say?”
“I’ve set you up with a lunch date,” her mother answered, seemingly heedless of the indignant look on Mari’s face. “Lunch is mostly over, so you won’t have to worry about getting interrupted by customers. You’ll have the whole dining room to yourself. You can thank me later.”
Mari felt certain she wouldn’t be thanking her mother at all, either now or in the immediate future. But before she could respond, Mrs. Ramirez said in a stern tone, “Now you need to get dressed. You’re covered in filth and sweat. What have you been doing all morning? I brought some of your old clothes from home.”
The old clothes that Mrs. Ramirez had brought turned out to be a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt that Mari hadn’t worn since high school. When she handed them over to Mari, Mari saw that they were one size too small.
“Mom,” Mari said, “now is not a good time—” but her mother had already left.
Mari looked at Tabasco and quickly peeked out into the restaurant. There in a sunlit corner sat a man about the same age as Mari wearing a blue button-down. His boots were perched on the opposite end of the booth as he casually leafed through the lunch menu. Alex and David were keeping a respectful distance, most likely because their mother had threatened them. Alex swept the floor a few feet away, though every now and again he turned back and examined the man with a curious expression.
Mari took a deep breath and began making her way across the dining room, which seemed to get longer and longer the further she walked. Just as she reached the table, a loud yell came from the front of the restaurant.
Mr. Chun, the owner of the Lucky Noodle, stood at the threshold of the lobby waving what looked like a bundle of mail in one hand. Mari's father stood in front of him, presumably trying to keep Mr. Chun from entering the main part of the restaurant.
“For the last time,” Mr. Chun argued, a vein throbbing dangerously in his temple, “I don’t want any of your mail! There is no reason why I, the owner of a Chinese restaurant, should be getting coupons for free margaritas at a Mexican restaurant that I never frequent.”
“It's the ad company I use,” Mr. Ramirez said, who seemed to be enjoying the argument. "They send those coupons out to everyone in town. I didn't know they would send them to you too."
“It’s annoying,” Mr. Chun responded, stamping his foot. “If I get any more mail from your restaurant, I’m going to call the police.”
“And tell them what, exactly?” Mr. Ramirez replied. “I should call the police right now for this scene you're causing on my property.”
“We both know you don't own this building, José," Mr. Chun shouted. A smirk grew across his face. “I’m not trespassing here.”
“The police told you to stay away from my restaurant," Mr. Ramirez continued. "They'll throw you in jail, Chun. Don't test me."
“Well, start packing your bags,” spat Mr. Chun, rolling up his sleeves. “Because I’m not leaving and the police can't make me.”
To Mari’s absolute embarrassment, the two men held up their fists. Mr. Ramirez landed a punch to Mr. Chun’s face, sending him flying backward. Mr. Chun got up and slapped José in return. The two men growled before knocking each other to the floor.
“Dad, stop it!" Mari scolded him.
A man broke up the fight between Mr. Chun and Mari's father. Mari gasped, her humiliation complete. The man, who was currently the only person standing between her father and a ghastly-looking Mr. Chun, was her date.
“I am a police officer,” Mari's date said, “and I’m telling you both to break it up or else.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
With a grunt of disappointment and irritation, Mr. Chun dusted himself off and walked out of the restaurant. Mari’s dad, looking distinctly red-faced, turned and went into his office.
The police officer turned to Mari. “I’m Officer Rick Kinney,” he said, extending his hand. “I guess I'm your date."
“I think we’ve met before,” Mari replied, taking his hand. “Do you come here often?”
“At least once a week,” Rick admitted. "Unfortunately, I tend to work a lot, so I don't cook much."
“It’s coming back to me now,” Mari said as they made their way to their booth. “Beef enchiladas with double beans, no rice, and a side of green chili?”
“Am I really that predictable?” Rick said, his face a little flushed.
“I think one time you didn't order the green chili,” Mari joked.
Officer Rick turned out to be surprisingly easy to talk to, and in hardly any time at all Mari and Rick were deep in conversation. Mari began to regret that she hadn’t taken her mother’s advice to change into new clothes, though she felt sure she would have been even more embarrassed to wear clothes that no longer fit her. Whenever she remembered that the handsome young man in front of her had just broken up a fight between her dad and his long-time nemesis, she wanted to walk straight into the sea. Mari wondered what Officer Rick must have thought of her.
“Is this your date?” Chrissy said, tray in hand. “Officer, I can’t tell you what a kind friend Mari has been to me over the years. She’s always loaned me money when I’ve needed it, saved me from a couple of just really bad relationships, and I have every confidence that she will make an excellent wife for some lucky young man.”
“Chrissy!” Mari blurted out.
“I’m sure she will.” Rick couldn't help but laugh. “I don’t know many women around here who have solved as many crimes as she has.”
Chrissy nodded. “Mari could be a detective. She would probably be much better at solving cases too than—"
"Chrissy," Mari blurted out again. This time she had better luck at composing herself. "Thank you, but that's enough."
“Nice to meet you, Chrissy,” Rick said politely.
"So sorry about that," Mari apologized as Chrissy walked away.
“The people here are very friendly,” Rick commented, taking a swig of his lemon water.
“Yeah,” Mari agreed. “Sometimes too friendly.” Mari glanced over her shoulder. She was painfully aware of the fact that her brothers were standing a few booths back, pretending to be mopping while they listened in on her conversation.
“Well, I will say that there's talk down at the station of what you've down in the past," Rick went on. "You really have put away your share of criminals, haven't you?"
“You’re too kind,” Mari responded. She wasn't sure if Rick meant it as a compliment, but she smiled anyway. “But it has been a team effort every time.” Mari reluctantly repressed the memories she had of past incidents involving the police. She was always trying to forget the many scary situations her family seemed to get into.
“I'm sure it has,” Rick replied. “Well, cheers to you.” He held up his glass of water.
“Thanks.” Mari shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She too held up her water glass. “May it never happen again.”
“Well said.” Rick chuckled at her comment. "I like your sense of humor."
“Tell that to my dad,” Mari said, stirring her water idly with a straw. “He doesn't appreciate the things I have to say." She cleared her throat and eyed the chips and salsa in the center of the table. "So, what's it like to be a police officer?" The only thing Mari knew about police work was
what she saw on T.V.
“I’m afraid it's not that exciting most of the time,” Rick responded. “It’s a lot of paperwork. Everyone who signs up for this job thinks it’s going to be just like the movies, but I spend most of my time at the office.”
“A lot of things in life are like that,” Mari commented. "But I guess we should all expect the unexpected, right?"
“That's very true,” Rick agreed.
Chrissy returned to their table carrying Rick’s plate of beef enchiladas, double beans, no rice, and a side of green chili. She also brought Mari a smothered burrito, their number on selling item. Mari waited for Chrissy to leave before crowded Rick with questions about his police work. She asked him how long it normally took to catch a criminal, how long it took to get a conviction, and how often cases were solved. As the questions continued, Rick set down his fork and looked at Mari from across the table with narrowed eyes.
“I’ve never met anyone so curious about police work,” Rick stated. “Are you thinking about a career change?”
Mari wasn't sure what to say. The truth wasn't very pretty. "No."
“Just come right out with it then,” Rick encouraged her. “What's your agenda? Is this about what happened to that archeologist? Do you know something that might help the investigation?”
Mary nodded guiltily. "Possibly?"
“Do you care to share?" he asked.
“Okay, fine,” Mari said, leaning forward. “I think someone is after my two brothers and me.” She motioned at Alex and David, who had been hovering over at the nearest table refilling the napkin dispenser for about twenty minutes.
“What makes you say that?” Rick glanced at Alex and David.
Mari quickly listed the reasons starting with the fact that Vance Gorden's had been found near their family's food truck. She then proceeded to tell Rick about the breakin, the vandalism, and the intruder near her apartment building. The more Mari divulged, the better she felt. She couldn't stop herself from unloading all of her troubles on Officer Rick.