Getaway Girlz

by Joan Rylen

  “Who is Adrienne?”

  “She’s staying at our hotel. Adrienne Russo,” Vivian informed him.

  “And where is Adrienne now?”

  “I don’t know. She was standing right here with us before you came in guns-a-blazin’.”

  “I will have to talk to her, see if her story is the same as yours. Where is Stella?”

  “Oh, that lady has a tendency to vanish like invisible ink. She took off before you got here. I bet she’s long gone,” Lucy said, shaking her head.

  “We need to search the house for her.”

  They followed Vega inside, but Vivian knew they wouldn’t find Stella.

  As they walked through the living room they saw Shorty, Victor and Joel handcuffed, and sitting apart from each other on a couch.

  “Are they under arrest?” Vivian asked Detective Vega.

  “Si.”

  “What’d they do?” Lucy asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  Vega ignored her.

  He took them through the house and past various groups of party-goers but they could not find Stella. They did see Rodney; however, zip-tied and sitting in a kitchen chair next to the trainer.

  He turned his rear their way and waved one of his zip-tied hands at them, and called over his shoulder, “Yoooouuu whooooo! This is an exciting night, huh! You girls sure know how to pick ’em!”

  “Hey Rodney!” Vivian said, then shrugged. “Who the hell knew?”

  Detective Vega looked over at her. “He is with you?”

  “Yep. He’s one of ours.”

  Vega pulled a knife out of his pocket and indicated Rodney stand up and turn around.

  He gave them an “oh” look, and did as he was told.

  Free of restraints, Rodney put himself between Vivian and Lucy. “I’m definitely one of them, and so is he.” He pointed to the trainer, then said quietly to the girls, “I generally only use handcuffs, of any sort, in combination with lubrication.”

  More than I wanted to know.

  Detective Vega cut the trainer loose as well, then put the knife back into his pocket. “Mrs. Taylor, looks like Adrienne and your so-called murderer are nonexistent.”

  She hung her head.

  Frustration.

  CHAPTER 61

  THE PARTY was definitely over and most of the guests had been allowed to leave. Rodney and trainer guy hit the high road after giving a round of hugs.

  “Well what now?” Kate asked, exasperated. “Where do we begin to look for the phantom black widow woman?”

  Vivian’s phone buzzed with an incoming text message. She flipped it open and saw it was a message from Adrienne.

  Hope this helps you out. Al said we r outta here. Good luck!

  She scrolled down and saw a picture of Stella on Shorty’s couch in the man-cave.

  “It was definitely her, then,” Vivian said, as she passed her phone around to everyone.

  “Let’s take this picture to some hotels tonight and see if they know her, if she’s staying there,” Kate suggested.

  Lucy took the phone and looked at the picture. “Yeah, okay, but you know, my mom’s stories of Catholic school are coming back to me. Remember Adrienne telling us what Stella said about confessing? I think it means something. Maybe if we see churches while we’re hotel hopping we should check them out too. Maybe she’s Catholic and will be looking to confess?”

  “Good call, Lucy. Great idea,” Vivian said.

  They hiked out to the car and squished in. Kate got behind the wheel, Vivian called shotgun and Pierre was humpin’ it again, flanked on either side by Lucy and Wendy.

  They scanned the streets, looking for any sign of Stella, as Kate drove them through the main area of town. Lucy thought she saw Stella once and jumped out of the car as Kate brought it to a screeching halt. Lucy scared some poor girl half to death as she ran up to her and grabbed her arm. Close resemblance from behind, but definitely not the crazy lady from the front.

  They took turns (with the exception of Vivian) running into hotels with the phone, showing the picture of Stella and had just hit their seventh when they passed a church. Lucy hopped out and checked the door. Locked. She went around to the side, but still no luck. They moved on.

  They tried a few more hotels with still no luck. They also tried two other churches that were locked up tight as the Mona Lisa in the Louvre.

  “I’m tired,” Lucy groaned.

  “I know. Me too,” Kate said. “It’s almost 5 a.m. and I think we’re coming to the end of our options. We’ve covered almost every hotel and church we’ve seen.”

  “Where in the hell does this girl disappear to?” Wendy asked the rhetorical question that had been on Vivian’s mind.

  Nobody spoke for a moment.

  Vivian took a deep breath. “I think there’s something I need to tell y’all.”

  Sensing the seriousness in Vivian’s tone, Kate pulled over, turned off the car then twisted around to face Vivian. Pierre and the girls in back looked worried.

  “When I was, uhhmmm,” Vivian paused, not wanting Kate to freak out. She started again. “When I got off the plane I went to powder my dent.”

  “Your dent?” Pierre asked.

  Vivian pointed to the indention in her forehead. “When I pulled out my compact it was broken.”

  She held her breath.

  “So what,” Lucy said. “We’ll buy you another one.”

  “Uh, okay,” Wendy said, not understanding why Vivian had just told them that.

  But Kate knew. She gasped, mouth agape and hand on her chest. “You broke the mirror, didn’t you?”

  “Well, the mirror was broken, but I don’t know that I really broke it. I just found it like that.”

  “Oh my god Viv, that’s why this is happening. This is the beginning of seven years of bad luck!”

  “Now hold on a second,” Wendy said holding up both hands. “I’m not really a believer in all that mumbo jumbo.”

  “Look what has happened,” Kate said. “Jon is dead and Vivian is suspected. It has to be because of the mirror.”

  “Seriously,” Wendy said, still not buying it. “All because of a three-inch mirror?”

  Pierre squeezed Vivian’s hand. “I don’t really think you breaking a mirror had anything to do with Jon getting killed.”

  “Well, whether it did or didn’t, I felt like I needed to tell y’all,” Vivian said.

  “Maybe it did have something to do with you being suspected, though,” Lucy said, then changed the subject. “I think we should call Arturo and see if there are any other Catholic churches we missed.”

  “Worth a shot.” Vivian dialed Arturo.

  A groggy voice answered. “Bueño.”

  “Hey, Arturo, it’s Vivian. I’m super sorry to be calling you so late, or early. We were at Julio’s party tonight and Stella basically confessed to Adrienne that she killed Jon. In the chaos of a police bust, compliments of Detective Vega, she disappeared. We told him but we’re not sure how hard he’s looking for her, so we are, but we’re running out of options. We’ve searched almost every hotel but think she may be at a church in town. We’ve hit the church on 15th and Iglesia De Presbyteria on 20th. Are there any others we might have missed?”

  “There’s the House of Hope on Avenue 25, then Companerismo de la Comunidad de la Riveria.” He paused then said, “Stella confessed?”

  “Yes, pretty much. We think she might be at a Catholic church. Are any of these Catholic churches?”

  “If you’re looking specifically for Catholic you need to search Señora del Carmen, de Fatima, and de Guadalupe. It doesn’t sound like you’ve been to those.”

  “Arturo, if we had time to search only one, which do you think would be the most likely?”

  He paused for a moment. “Del Carmen. It’s downtown and closest to the hotels.”

  “Ok, what’s the address? We’ll head there next.”

  He gave her the address and she repeated it while Wendy wrote it down.


  “Thanks so much Arturo. Sorry if we woke you.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll be in touch if I hear anything.”

  They wound their way through the streets of Playa and came to Iglesias Señora del Carmen church, where a car was parked out front.

  “That car looks like a piece of crap rental like ours if you ask me,” Lucy said with disdain.

  “This could be it!” Vivian was excited, hoping they could take Stella into custody. “Citizens arrests or not, I’m not leaving this church without Stella.”

  “Amen to that,” Kate said as they got out of the car.

  “Yeah, we’re takin’ this hussy down!” Wendy whispered.

  “I’ll show her floozy!” Vivian responded.

  The church looked relatively small with a flat stucco façade and peeling white paint, a few small openings and a typical bell in a small arch centered above the entry. The shaped parapet leading up to the bell was outlined in a band of blue paint. As they pushed open the ornate iron gates, the hinges creaked with age.

  Kate whispered, “I feel like we’re going to Taco Hell!”

  “I think the offering plate must be falling short here,” Pierre muttered.

  Lucy shushed him as he grabbed at the decorative giant wooden door and pulled.

  Unlike the other churches, this one opened.

  CHAPTER 62

  THE GIRLS and Pierre tip-toed into Iglesias Señora del Carmen and paused, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness. The church was lit only by a few prayer candles and what little moonlight shown through the windows.

  Vivian saw a dark lump of something in front of the altar. That something suddenly sat up, facing the back wall.

  “Are you here, God?”

  They all stopped dead in their tracks. Silence.

  “Can you hear me?” This time the voice was a little louder.

  Everyone looked at Vivian, eyebrows raised. She nudged Pierre to respond. Please, God, don’t strike us with lightning for this!

  “Yes, I can hear you, my child. I am here,” Pierre answered calmly, making his voice extra low. “I want to help you.”

  “Oh thank you, thank you,” the woman’s voice responded with relief. Suddenly the dark form was upright, reaching skyward to the crucified Jesus on the cross. “I knew you would hear me.”

  Just then the door opened behind them, and Arturo nudged his way in.

  “What are you doing here?” Vivian whispered.

  “I felt like you needed me.” He put a finger to his lips.

  Pierre had gone up a few pews and was crouched down. “Tell me, child, why are you here?”

  “I’ve done something,” she stammered. “Something terrible.”

  “Confess your sins.”

  Damn, he’s good!

  The girls crouched down low behind the last pew. Arturo got next to Vivian and they both peeked over.

  Stella was looking up at the Jesus. “I think there was an accident, and I didn’t mean to do it. I just got so mad.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Dominik was dancing with this woman. A woman not his wife! He was kissing her!”

  “And that upset you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you do something?”

  She choked back a sob. “I followed them to the beach. They kissed again, and I knew I had to take up for Celeste. She beat breast cancer, even after the hospital almost killed her by administering three times the dose of morphine. She’s been nothing but faithful to Dominik and was right by his side while he recuperated from the car crash off a cliff where he lost his memory and was almost eaten alive while awaiting rescue. How could he do this to her? And that sweet, little premature baby?”

  Stella paused to take a raggedy breath. “The other woman finally left and I confronted him. I told him he was wrong for cheating on Celeste. He kept saying he wasn’t Dominik. That his name was Jon and that he wasn’t married. Why would he lie?”

  The church was very still. Vivian held her breath.

  Pierre hung his head, upset, then looked up and responded. “And then what happened?”

  Her voice shifted from despair to anger. “I, I,” she stammered. “I grabbed a shell from the sand and swung at him. I didn’t mean to hurt him but he made me so angry! She’s recovering from the burns she got in the explosion.”

  Stella put her head in her hands, sobbing. “He fell down and I ran, but I just wanted him to leave that floozy alone and go back home to Celeste. She needs him!”

  She paused for a breath, then said in a weak voice, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

  “What didn’t you know?”

  “I didn’t know he was dead. That I killed him.” Stella drew in a breath and wailed, “God, help me!”

  Arturo looked at Vivian, eyebrows raised.

  “I must arrest her,” he said, touching around his waist. He looked down, then shook his head. “Aye, ya yai. I arrested someone today and didn’t get my cuffs back.”

  A 100-watt went off in Vivian’s head. “Hold on a sec!” She reached into her purse, dug around and pulled out Shorty’s red, fuzzy handcuffs. She dangled them in front of Arturo’s face. “Will these help?”

  He rolled his eyes but took them anyway. “I’ll never live this down.”

  He quietly tip-toed up the aisle to Stella, who was still kneeling at the foot of the giant cross, crying. He popped a fuzzy handcuff on her left wrist.

  “You are under arrest for the murder of Jon Tournay.”

  CHAPTER 63

  Day 6

  VIVIAN WATCHED as Arturo walked Stella up the aisle of Del Carmen Catholic Church toward the heavy wooden doors.

  Wendy leaned over to Vivian and said solemnly, “Probably not the walk down the aisle she envisioned for herself, huh?”

  “I’d say not. Poor delusional woman.”

  As she passed them she looked at Vivian. “This is all your fault, you…you…marriage-wrecker.”

  The girls all said in unison, “He wasn’t married!”

  Rays of sun peeked through the doors as Arturo opened them up to the break of a glorious day. He led Stella outside just as several police cars pulled up.

  As they followed them out the door of the church, Vivian asked Arturo, “How did the police know to show up here?”

  Arturo grinned and answered, “Oh, Detective Vega just has a way of knowing where you’ll be.”

  What is that supposed to mean? Did we miss a tracking device on the car? Did he plant something in my purse?

  Speaking of Detective Vega, he walked up looking worn out. And pissed. “So I see we have found Stella. You still can’t leave the country. No charges have been filed yet.”

  “But she confessed. Arturo heard her.” Vivian protested.

  “She had not been read her rights, so the confession will not hold up, if it happened.”

  If it happened, asshole.

  “What about the DNA? Did you run it?” Wendy asked.

  He turned and walked away. Obviously not a morning person.

  Vega shouted orders to the policia and techs who spread out over the grounds and inside the church. One guy snapped pictures while the rest searched in and around everything. A pair of cops went through the other crappy car out front, that was then hooked to a tow truck. The techs dusted the altar and cross for prints.

  Another detective briefly interviewed the girls and Pierre individually. Their stories matched and there was no cause for concern. Just needed statements, the detective told Vivian.

  Arturo spoke with Vega, then led Stella to a patrol car, getting jabs from his counterparts over the red fuzzy handcuffs, and sat her in the back seat. He slammed the door and patted the top of the car.

  As the patrol car pulled away Stella looked out the window at them, tears streaming down her face. Vivian couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She needed meds.

  “That lady is bonkers.” Kate shook her head.

  “Yep,” Wendy said, watching the car turn the corner. “But
I have a feeling Mexico isn’t a plead insanity kinda place.”

  The group stayed and watched as the crime scene investigation winded down. The priest showed up and blessed everyone within sight, including the girls and Pierre. Vega seemed irritated at the priest’s presence and wrapped things up quick.

  “The donger needs food,” Lucy said as the police took off, including Vega. “And right now, I’m the donger.”

  “I’m a donger too,” Vivian said and laughed.

  Wendy and Kate both said they were dongers.

  “Back in the day, Jon was in love with Molly Ringwald,” Pierre said.

  “Let’s have breakfast in his honor,” Kate suggested.

  “Celebrate him,” Vivian said.

  “I think he would like that.”

  Arturo was just getting in his car and Vivian asked him where to go since his suggestions had proved to be good so far. He recommended a Mexican version of Denny’s. They were all a little riled up after leaving the church and ate a monster breakfast. It kicked ass. Vivian didn’t know if it was the resolution with Stella or real hunger, but the south of the border version of “moons over my hammy” was the best egg, ham and cheese toasted sandwich she had ever had.

  Pierre talked a little about Jon, remembering some good times. The blow-out of a party they’d had in high school where people jumped off the roof into the pool and Pierre lost his virginity; the Mardi Gras trip they’d taken in college where they’d handed out tons of beads to all the ‘worthy’ women on Bourbon Street; the spur of the moment trip they’d taken to London that almost caused Jon to miss a red carpet event for the soap. He showed up in jeans and a t-shirt, but still made all the best dressed lists.

  Wendy got out her camera and pulled up the picture of Jon and Vivian with the sandcastle, on the day they met. Seeing his picture saddened the group but this was a breakfast of celebration so, eyes just a little watery, they did a cheers to Jon with their orange juice and coffee.