by Joan Rylen
“One last thing Mrs. Taylor, hand over your passport.”
CHAPTER 24
VIVIAN COULDN’T believe this was happening. She had enough troubles at home and sure didn’t need more in a foreign country.
Arturo ushered Vivian toward the exit and she looked around for the girls. The three of them were sitting on the steps, looking dejected.
They had compared notes about their interviews and gave her the details. Each had been questioned by a fiery Detective Vega who assumed Vivian was a man-hater. Their passports had also been confiscated. This pissed Vivian off. They had flights to catch in a few days and they couldn’t get back home without their passports. It was one thing to have an extended vacation, but this wasn’t what any of them had in mind.
“He mostly just asked us how you knew Jon, what time we left the club last night, when you came in, etc.” Kate sat on the top step with her knees to her chin.
Lucy stood, ready to go. “I was uncontrollably nervous, rambling on and on. I kept thinking they would throw me in jail. I might have said too much,” she paused, “on accident.”
“Not good.” Vivian walked past Wendy and Kate and stood next to Lucy.
“And we had to pay him off in order for him to let us out of the interview room.” Lucy looked at her purse. “I only had fifty bucks on me and didn’t know if that would be enough to buy my freedom.”
“I only had forty dollars.” Wendy sat on the step beside Kate. “I don’t like to carry too much cash around down here, ya know?”
“I only had thirty and I thought I was screwed,” Kate said, “but I guess it was enough.”
“What a bunch of crap, having to bribe the freaking police down here so we don’t get thrown in jail for something we didn’t do,” Wendy said. “Makes me appreciate America.”
Vivian rubbed her left wrist. “He took my watch.”
“What?” Lucy asked. “Wasn’t that a gift from Rick?”
“Yeah, his wedding present. But the box he gave it to me in wasn’t a Bulova box so I figured he bought it at a pawn shop. Cheap bastard.”
“At least it kept you from going to jail today,” Kate said.
“True.”
“We have got to get out of here right now,” Lucy said, who was obviously still totally freaked out. “I need a shower to get the grit and germs off of me.”
“Yeah, I feel pretty freakin’ nasty myself.” Vivian looked around the parking lot. “How are we getting back to the hotel?”
“Arturo has two police cruisers waiting for us.” Kate pointed to a couple of cop cars. “I don’t think this is the usual service, so let’s go.”
The girls made their way to the cars and reluctantly got in the back. This time Lucy rode with Vivian so she wouldn’t feel like such a criminal.
The police dropped them off a block from the hotel and as they walked past the “special parking” they noticed their rent car’s door was ajar. They went over to it and saw the glove box open and the console between the front seats was not shut all the way. The P.O.S. had been searched.
“At least there’s nothing in here to steal.” Lucy slammed the door closed.
They locked it up and walked to the hotel, where several police cars still lined the street.
In front of the hotel, a reporter was talking to a police officer, jotting down notes in a small notebook, and a photographer was taking a picture of the hotel sign. Tourists were taking pictures of the scene with their cell phones.
“Let’s try to avoid this.” Wendy nodded toward the activity.
“But we have to go right by them to get to the hotel,” Lucy said.
“It’s fine. Just try to look touristy.” Wendy forced a smile.
They walked by as nonchalantly as possible, but Vivian could feel the reporter eyeing them. She glanced back after they were a good 20 feet away and saw the policeman turn and point to them.
“Crap, I think he just blew our cover!”
The reporter and Vivian made eye contact. The reporter flipped her notebook closed and yelled for the photographer.
“This is not good.” Kate walked a little faster. “We need to make ourselves scarce before we end up on the front page of some Mexican newspaper.”
The girls picked up the pace, walked around to the beach side of La Vida de Playa and looked up. The police were on a third-floor balcony that must have been Jon and Pierre’s.
“I saw Pierre leave the station,” Lucy said. “I wonder if he’s in his room with the police?”
Vivian looked up at the balcony, determined. “I’m going up there, I want to talk to him.”
Kate grabbed Vivian’s arm. “You heard what he said at the station. Are you sure?”
“Yes, absolutely. I need to talk to him. I’m going up.”
The girls followed Vivian on her mission. They quickly went through the lobby and hit the stairwell. They were trying to be quiet but their flip-flops were flippity flopping as they plodded up to the third story, where they were met by a young policeman. He wore the same uniform they’d seen Arturo in.
“Hola, señoritas. Is your room on this floor?”
“No, we’re on the second floor but we’ve come up here to talk to Pierre.” Vivian pointed to Pierre’s door. “Is he here? It’s important.”
The policeman looked at them individually, pondered, then held up a finger. “Uno momento, por favor.”
He walked over to an older man in plain clothes who looked like he was in charge. The detective opened the door and shouted, “Pierre, cuatro chicas están aqui.”
“I don’t have anything to say to them,” Pierre shouted back. “Tell them to go away.”
The uniformed policeman looked at the girls and shrugged. “Sorry, señoritas.”
Feeling defeated, a little freaked out, embarrassed and certainly paranoid, they went down to their room.
Upon entering, OCD Lucy could tell immediately it had been searched. Things just weren’t how they left them.
“Look! This is not where I left my suitcase. It was on the stand and not on the floor.”
Wendy walked into their bathroom. “My toiletries have all been moved around.”
“Don’t they need permission to search our room?” Kate asked. “Or a search warrant or something?”
“We’re in Mexico — who the hell knows?” Vivian sat down on the bed. “We don’t have anything to hide, let them go through it.”
“Let them go through it! Viv, this is our stuff!” Lucy stood in front of her, hands on hips. “They probably didn’t even wear gloves! God knows what sorts of bacterial bugs they left behind.”
“Lucy, it’s going to be okay. We’ll buy some Lysol or something.”
Lucy gave Vivian a sideways glance and a huff.
Kate opened the room safe. “Looks like our cash is still here.”
“Thank goodness,” Vivian said.
“Yeah.” Wendy sat down on the other bed. “We might need that for more bribes.”
“We need to regroup.” Kate eased down next to Vivian. “Figure out what we should do.”
“What we should do?” Vivian held her hands up in frustration. “What can we do?”
“Viv, you could be in serious trouble here,” Kate said. “We need to talk about it.”
“I told Detective Vega that I didn’t have anything to do with, with …” she stammered. It was difficult for her to bring herself to say it. “With his death.”
“Do you think they’ll charge Vivian with murder?” Lucy asked Kate.
“This is Mexico and from stories I’ve heard, they pin crimes on Americans without doing a thorough investigation just because.”
“I agree, we need to figure this out,” Wendy said. “We have to keep Vivian out of Mexican jail.”
“Let’s go to the pool for this discussion.” Lucy tapped her foot in nervousness. “I don’t really want to be in the room right now.”
“I’ll run downstairs real quick to see if the reporter and photographer are
still here,” Wendy said, opening the door. She returned in a minute. “Coast is clear. There are a few policemen, but I think we’ve faced the worst of those already.”
Lucy took a quick shower to wash off the “grit, grime and funk” from the station, then they threw on their swimsuits, grabbed the sunscreen, and were outta there.
“I know it’s early, but I could use a drink,” Vivian said as they exited the lobby. “My hands won’t quit shaking.”
The girls walked to the poolside bar and ordered Tiempo Loco tequila shots.
Vivian raised her glass, “To Jon-ola.” Tears welled in her eyes and her voice broke on the “ola.”
The other girls chimed in, “To Jon-ola.”
Vivian reached for a napkin before the water works began again. She had a feeling this would be the first of several drinks this afternoon to help numb the pain.
They ordered a bucket-o-beer, found four poolside lounge chairs and settled in.
Kate got right to the situation. “Viv, maybe we should find you a local attorney. You might need some help to get out of this.”
The welling of tears spilled out. How could this have happened? Vivian thought.
“I wouldn’t know what attorney to call or who to trust,” Vivian said in a shaky voice. “How will I know they would truly help me and not just take my money?”
“What about calling Rick?” Lucy adjusted the umbrella for better coverage. “You are still technically married to him, and he is a criminal defense attorney after all.”
The thought of calling Rick for help put an end to Vivian’s crying. “There’s no way in hell I’m calling him for help. I’m clearly not his priority, and, who knows, he could use this against me. Besides, there’s only one head he’s thinking with right now, and it’s not the one containing his brain. Let’s see how today pans out. Maybe Detective Vega was just trying to scare us.”
“Sorry for bringing up dickwad’s name, but I think we need to look into all our options,” Lucy said.
The girls kept plodding forward. “Maybe we should buy some calling cards,” Kate said.
“And give me Rick’s number.”
“And your parents,” Lucy said.
“I still have their number memorized.” Wendy finished rubbing in the SPF 15 and handed the bottle to Kate.
“Maybe we should contact the closest U.S. Embassy or something?” Kate squeezed a bit of sunscreen into her hand.
Vivian pushed her sunglasses over her swollen eyes and tuned out their worst-case scenario planning. She had seen the show Locked Up Abroad, and she definitely did not want to be locked up abroad.
Surely not, there’s no way, not jail…Right?
CHAPTER 25
INSTRUCTED NOT to go far and not knowing where to go or what else to do, Vivian sat by the pool, drank beer, and listened to the girls spin ideas on how to get out of Mexico, legally.
After beer two, a shadow was cast over her and she looked up to see Big Al.
“Hey, man-hater.”
A horrified Adrienne hit him on the shoulder. “Al, don’t say that.”
“Oh, I’m just kidding. She knows I’m kidding.”
“Still.”
“It’s okay, Adrienne,” Vivian waved her off. “I know I didn’t do it.”
“Heard any good rumors about who could have?” Wendy asked, sitting up in her lounger.
“Not really, but the police have been all over the hotel and the beach,” Adrienne said.
“Yeah, they searched our room while we were at the police station.” Lucy pushed her sunglasses onto her head.
“Really?” Al’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Then you definitely need to do a room sweep and look for bugs.”
“Oh, there aren’t any bugs,” Lucy shook her head. “I wouldn’t stay here if there were.”
“He’s not talking about creepy crawly bugs, Lucy.” Kate took a sip of beer. “He’s talking about listening devices; you know, spy stuff.”
“Oh. Well, I’m not up on those invasion of privacy gadgets!”
Al shook his head and sat down on the empty lounger next to Vivian. “Listen, sweetheart, I have a cousin, Salvatore, a.k.a ‘Slinky Sal,’ who’s an attorney in Jersey. I don’t mind putting in a call for you.”
“Is he real limber and bendy?” Lucy asked. “I used to love my slinky.”
“No, not really.”
“Then why do they call him Slinky Sal?”
Al suppressed a grin. “It’s rumored he’s been known to send things end over end down stairs.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy asked.
“Oh, you know, like the occasional witness.”
Obviously, Slinky Sal was not a man to be toyed with.
Adrienne punched Al playfully in the arm. “You shouldn’t be talking like that, Al.”
He shrugged.
Vivian couldn’t help but smirk at their exchange. “Thanks Al, but hopefully it won’t come to anything like that.”
Adrienne sat on the end of Vivian’s lounge chair. “So what the heck happened after we left last night? Last I saw you looked like you were on your way to some Canadian bacon.”
“There was no bacon but, as you saw at the club, there was a lot of kissing.”
With that, Vivian raised her beer and gave another toast to Jon. “To the best Canadian salsa dancing kisser in all of Mexico.”
Clink.
Vivian then continued, “We left the club around 1:45 or 2, I guess, came back here, stopped by the bar and then went for a walk on the beach. That was it. He stayed down on the beach when I went back to the room. He was waiting on a call from his agent about a movie part.”
“I just thought of something.” Kate pointed to Vivian with her beer. “Did you tell Detective Vega we keep seeing creepy ponytail guy everywhere we’ve been and that Jon and Pierre were there, too? Maybe he was following them.”
“No, I didn’t even think about that. Did anyone else mention it?”
Wendy shook her head. “Nope.”
Lucy: “Me, neither.”
“It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time,” Kate continued, “but now it makes me wonder if there’s a connection.”
“We’ve got to get hold of Detective Vega or Arturo and tell them.” Vivian looked around to see if Arturo was in sight. “This could be important. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.”
“I agree.” Kate sat up and swung both feet on the ground. “Jon, Pierre and Ponytail were there the first night at the Purple Peacock, then yesterday morning at the marina, and at Club Caliente last night.”
That did raise the suspicion up a notch, or ten, in Vivian’s mind. It has to be Ponytail. He’s the killer.
“We’ve been to the Purple Peacock. Al didn’t like the swings. Said they didn’t feel stable.” Adrienne looked at Al and tickled his robust stomach with her fingers. “Sweetie, isn’t there something you can do to help find out who this ponytail guy is?”
“I know who you’re talking about.” Al reached for his phone, which was in his shirt pocket again, making it droop and show off too much chest hair. “Let me make a few phone calls and see what I can find out. Maybe some of my connections have connections down here.”
Al walked off, phone in hand, and Adrienne patted Vivian’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. Al knows a lot of people.”
Kate hopped up. “I’m going to the parking lot, see if I can find Arturo. He can help us. I know it.”
She slipped on her flip-flops and trotted off down the sand.
Wendy turned to Lucy. “Go with her please. We’re officially implementing the buddy system from here on out. No more going off anywhere alone.”
Lucy put on her shoes and raced off to catch Kate. She could run the fastest of the girls, even after a tequila shot and a beer.
She turned around, jogging backwards and yelled out, “Good idea!”
Little too late for that rule to kick in. Dammit.
“So who are Al’s contacts?” Wen
dy asked Adrienne.
She tried to make the question sound innocent, but Vivian knew better. Wendy was an avid reader and Vivian figured she was having a book moment, fancying herself as Nancy Drew or some such.
“Oh honey, Al has connections everywhere,” Adrienne answered. “He’s really into the local politics in Chicago and he’s pretty good at trading a nice meal for information, too.”
“The ol’ wine and dine trick, huh?” Wendy put her hair up in a ponytail. “Bet he learns a lot that way. Loose lips and all.”
“As long as his connections help me out, I don’t care who, what or how,” Vivian said.
Kate and Lucy came running back.
“We found Arturo in front of the hotel,” Kate stood beside the lounger Vivian shared with Adrienne. “He called Detective Vega and he’s on his way.”
“Okay, let’s be rational here,” Wendy said. “Just because we’ve seen Ponytail a lot doesn’t automatically make him a killer. He looks like a killer, what with dressing all in black and that huge scar on the side of his face, but we need to be careful. Playa is not a huge place and we don’t want to make any more enemies.”
Book moment over or she would have pinned it on Ponytail.
“Well, it is odd you have seen him so much.” Adrienne slipped her sandals off and on. Vivian noticed they were Cole Haan.
Lucy got back underneath her umbrella. “He looks like he’s been in a knife fight. It’s him.”
“Ponytail’s not the only person we’ve seen a lot of,” Wendy said, book moment evidently not over.
“Who else?” Adrienne asked.
Vivian’s mind flashed on an image of the short guy pointing his finger gun at a passerby. “There are Shorty and The Ladies.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Lucy snapped her fingers.
Vivian continued, “They were at the Purple Peacock, and we think Jon and Pierre were on his boat yesterday. They were also at Club Caliente last night.”
“Who’s that?” Adrienne said, wiggling her toes and inspecting her pedicure.
“Some machismo-lookin’ mini-guy Jon and Pierre were hanging out with. He had a girl on each arm, but I’m telling you, he doesn’t look like a ladies’ man.”