I looked out the window while she went to fetch another box. The view wasn’t oceanfront, but I’m thinking with the approaching storm, she was probably grateful to be inland a bit. The weather forecasters couldn’t stop predicting where the eye of the storm would hit. All it needed to do was shift a few miles one way or the other and Puerto Rico would be spared a disaster. That’s what I was praying for.
I don’t think I could live on a Caribbean island. The wait and see game was brutal.
“If it’s here, I think it will be in a one of these clear bins. I know I read through a bunch of contracts once. I just can’t remember where I put them.”
Finn dove in and started taking stacks of paper out, reading part of one as he did. “It’s all in Spanish,” he said a second later.
This did not surprise me. Puerto Rico may be an American territory, but it was first a Spanish colony, and that culture ran deep. I perused a similar stack of papers and had to confess that I was struggling a bit, too. I may be able to speak Spanish, but reading it is an entirely different matter. I was way out of practice.
“Maybe part of the contract will be in French,” I thought.
If so, Finn would be able to help. On the day he proposed to me, he surprised me by taking me to a fancy restaurant and ordering for us from the menu entirely in fluent French. Up until then I had no idea he could speak it. It was a pleasant surprise and made me swoon just a little. Let me tell you, Finn was a man of many talents.
“French? Whose wedding contract are you looking for? Lupe wasn’t making much sense,” Hope said.
“We’re looking for Mariah Boulet’s. Trying to find out the details of the dowry in hopes of tracking it down,” I said.
“Oh, Mariah’s? I always felt so sorry for that poor girl. The world wronged her, that’s for sure.”
“You know her story?” Finn asked.
“I know what they said, but I’m sure there’s more to it. Anyway, I know I don’t have that contract,” Hope said.
“You don’t?” I was back to feeling defeated.
“I’m afraid not. I donated it to the Museum of History in town. They needed pieces for their Royal Decree of Graces exhibit. The contract was a perfect example of the decree’s success.”
“What do you mean?” Finn asked. I thought that was the wrong question. He should’ve been asking where this museum was located and what their hours were.
“The royal decree is what brought the French to Puerto Rico. They quickly became part of the Spanish community by building social connections and marrying into prosperous Spanish-descended families, among other things. Mariah’s wedding contract showed just that. Of course, the museum didn’t care that the wedding never took place. The document was proof enough that the decree had worked.”
I tried not to stress out that we were running out of time and that we still had to find the dowry after discovering what it was. I was beginning to think that we might have to just stay and ride out the storm, or make a trip back to solve this case. It was just too much to try and rush to piece together. I thought I worked well under pressure, but I may have reached my limit here.
I backed myself away from my mental cliff and tried to think positive instead. At least now we knew where the contract was. That was progress. Now I just hoped that we didn’t have to break into a museum, because I was pretty sure they’d have security; I was good with picking a lock, but not that good. I doubt I could YouTube my way out of that one.
We thanked Hope and promised to let her know what we discovered.
“Please do. I always hoped someone would come along and poke around her story a bit.” I knew Hope had no idea just how many people had been trying to do just that.
On our cab ride to the museum, I wondered how many other people had gotten as far as we had. Was all of this information in Carmen’s notes? Had someone else already figured out Mariah’s last name and viewed the marriage contract, and thus, identified the dowry? I had to admit that I felt like for every step we were taking forward we were taking two steps back.
The cab dropped us off in front of the coral-colored building with its white-painted archways and impressive ionic columns. I found myself hoping under my breath as we trotted up the steps that the museum would be open.
Finn tugged on the entrance handle and thankfully the door gave way. Hallelujah! I didn’t think I could contribute anything paranormal to landing that break; it was probably just luck, but I’d take it.
The museum was beautiful, with a domed, painting ceiling and different wings just inviting us to explore. On any other day, we’d take a couple of hours to mull around, maybe join a tour, but not today. Today I marched right over to information to see if they could point us in the right direction.
“We’re looking for a specific exhibit on… what did she call it, babe?” I asked Finn, suddenly drawing a blank.
“The royal decree of something,” Finn replied. He closed his eyes to try and think of the last part.
“The Royal Decree of Graces?” the lady guessed helpfully.
“YES! That’s it!” The lady jumped back. So maybe I was a little excited.
“It would be just through that archway in the second room. That’s where the colonization exhibit is located.”
“Awesome, thank you so much.” I tried not run to toward the room. Finn reached playfully for my hand, but I swatted it away.
“You know, when you’re on a case, you get really nuts. Actually, make that obsessed,” Finn joked with me. I slowed my pace for a nano second and accepted his hand.
“Now walk a little bit faster,” I said, practically dragging him after me and that’s saying a lot. My little five-foot self, pulling along all six feet of Finn. I’m sure the information attendant got a kick out of that. She must’ve thought I was really into history.
I was mentally planning on dividing and conquering, but thankfully, a nineteenth-century wedding gown display caught my eye right as we walked through the door. “It’s got to be over there,” I said to Finn, pointing at the layered, lacy gown.
We raced over to the display and began scanning the documents. Or rather, I began scanning them, seeing they were in Spanish.
“I got it!” I said, reading over the script once more. It was handwritten, the paper brown and faded from time, but I could still make out the words. I found myself skipping over more words than I probably should’ve if I really wanted all the details, but like I said, reading Spanish wasn’t my strong suit.
“What’s it say?” Finn asked.
“Hang on.” I motioned toward a young man working at the other end of the exhibit.
“Excuse me, sir? Do you have a second?” I asked in Spanish. The young man came over. “Would you mind reading this to me? My Spanish reading skills are a bit sad,” I explained.
“No problem. We get that all the time,” the guy, make that Marcos per his name tag, replied in fluent English.
I pointed down at the document in question.
“Okay, so what we have here is a marriage contract between a young Puerto Rican man and his French immigrant fiancée. There’s a really fascinating story behind it. Do you want to hear it?”
I was going to shake my head no. Who had the time? Certainly not us. But then I realized that, just maybe, Marcos could tell us something we didn’t yet know. “Sure, what’s their story?” I said instead.
“Well, the year was 1840, and it was the height of French immigration to Puerto Rico. We have a young lady here, Mariah Boulet, the daughter of the French Navy Capt. Antoine Boulet.” Marcos pointed to a portrait of a young girl sitting on a chair, staring off to the side. Her hair was intricately pinned up. Her face solemn.
“Don’t let her expression fool you. We’re told that Mariah was a bit of a wild child. Her family was extremely pleased to see her quickly settled here. I guess she gave them a bit of a run back in France. Complete with a patched-up engagement that fell through. A history, you’ll see, that would repeat itself.”
/> “She was engaged before?” I asked.
“Yes, but the suitor’s family didn’t really approve. They only relented when the couple was found in a compromising position. However, Mariah’s suitor quickly tossed her aside when another woman made her affections known, destroying Mariah’s character and future prospects.”
“The jerk broke her heart,” I said.
“Just wait,” Marcos cautioned me. “When her family immigrated to Puerto Rico, she was able to have a fresh start. With her father now a retired naval captain, she had a respected male to supply her character reference and her French manners to introduce her to society. Enter in Mr. Frederick Roberto.” Marcos pointed to the other name listed in the contract. “The couple quickly fell in love and the marriage terms as we see here were readily accepted. The wedding day drew closer, but on the night before her big day, her original French lover sailed to Puerto Rico and begged for her forgiveness, taking her to bed once more. Back in the arms of her true love, she took her father’s dowry and together she and her lover snuck out into the night, never to be seen again.” Marcos ended the story in a dramatic-like fashion.
I hated to break it to the guy, but I just saw Mariah yesterday. And no way was that story true. Unless her ship capsized and she decided to haunt The Casa just for fun, but I highly doubted that.
“Her father never attempted to recover her?” I asked.
“Oh, he did. He searched the island high and low, but it’s believed they sailed off that night. Mariah was never heard from again.”
“And what was this dowry, exactly?” Finn pointed back at the document.
“Let’s see. It was paid for with 10,000 francs, and, let me see if I’m reading this right…four gold mirrors?”
“What? The gold was paid for in mirrors?” I asked.
“Looks like it. Would you like me to read the specifications?
“Yes, please do!” I said over enthusiastically. I stared back down at the document, attempting to read along.
“Um, okay…the four over-mantel mirrors are five feet six inches, by four feet eight inches. Hand-casted in 14 carat gold with mercury glass inlay. Accents include a singing bird perched on a chain of ornate flowers and scrolling foliage.”
I put my hand on the young man’s arm to stop him. Sweet sugar. I knew those mirrors. Well, two of them anyway. One was hanging up back in our room at The Casa and another was down in the root cellar. It made sense why Mariah and Carmen both seemed drawn to those locations.
“Thank you so much. You’ve been extremely helpful,” I said to Marcos. “It’s a family history project,” I supplied as he looked at me like I was nuts. “For my aunt,” I continued. “Anyway, thank you. You’re awesome.” I reached for Finn’s hand to leave.
“You know, you’re the second girl to ask me about this contract this week,” Marcos said.
His comments had me screeching to a halt. Say what? “By chance, was the other girl short, with long dark hair and brown eyes?”
“Yeah. She told me she was doing some research for school. Something about urban legends, but I didn’t catch the rest. She pretty much flew out of here when I read the mirror description, too. What’s that all about?” he asked.
“It’s a long story, but if I ever figure it all out, I’ll let you know,” I said.
Marcos nodded at us and then turned back to read the contract again as if he was missing something. Finn and I didn’t waste any time heading out.
“Can you believe it? We’ve been staring at the treasure for the entire week, or into it, anyway,” I said as soon as we were outside. I felt like we had struck gold. Pun intended. “Do you think they know?” I asked Finn.
“The Robertos?” he asked.
I nodded. “No, right?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “That’s what I’m thinking. No way they’d knowingly hang up mirrors worth thousands of dollars in the hotel’s guestrooms.” I stopped walking. “But Carmen knew. I wonder what happened next? Did she confront the Robertos? Attempt to steal the mirrors?”
My mind was racing with possibilities. “We need to get back to the hotel.” The answers were there, I knew it.
Finn looked at me skeptically.
“What?” I asked, sweeping my bangs behind my ear. Thankfully, they’d finally grown out enough to stay put. Most of the time.
“Maybe we should quit while we’re ahead. Turn the information over to the authorities,” Finn said.
“What authorities? The ones that would probably like to peg us as murderers? Who is there to solve this, babe?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but I just don’t have a good feeling,” he replied.
“Okay, how about this. Let’s at least go back to the hotel to pack up. I left Carmen’s phone in our room and I have a feeling there’s more information there that we overlooked.” I had only looked at Carmen’s missed calls and messages, but what about her other forms of communication? Did she email this information to anyone? Make any outside calls?
Finn looked at me like he wasn’t buying it.
“Look, I promise I won’t do anything stupid. And as soon as we know who the killer is, I’ll find a way to turn the information over to the police, anonymously. I mean, look how far we’ve come, and nothing’s bad happened to us yet,” I offered.
Finn looked at the time on his phone. I knew the hours were ticking by. We honestly didn’t have much time anyway. “Just humor me, okay? Those mirrors belong to my aunt’s family and I want to make sure they make their way home again. We can’t stop now.”
“You had to play the family card, didn’t you?” Finn said.
“Just imagine what I’d do for you,” I replied with a coy smile.
“Oh, believe me, I have.” Finn did his sexy eyebrow raise thing. I had to believe this was a sign of a good, strong relationship. That even though we were trying to solve murders and bring peace to a ghost, we were still flirting with each other. Either that or the stress of the case had finally gotten to both of us, and we were acting a little goofy as the result. It was probably a mixture of both.
18
Finn was finishing his morning routine and packing up the bathroom while I scrolled through Carmen’s outgoing call log. Sometimes it was hard being this smart.
“Hey babe, get this: Carmen made five outgoing calls to a local antiques dealer.”
“Maybe you were right and she was going to try and steal them,” Finn replied while brushing his teeth.
“Or she was looking at having them appraised,” I said.
“That’s a good point. Any chance they’re open?” Finn asked.
“Hang on. I’m searching the store’s website right now.” I resisted the urge to click on the store’s featured inventory, reminding myself we were on a time crunch. It was tough. Anyone who knew me knew I loved my antiques. Finn was more of a pawn shop kind of guy, but he’d amuse me and go antiquing every now and then, especially since the wedding. We were slowly decorating our place to make it feel more like home. I clicked on the store’s contact information and did a double take.
“Holy guacamole. The store’s proprietor’s name is Gordon Hunt,” I said to Finn.
“Who’s that?” he asked. He was done brushing his teeth and had brought out all of his toiletries in a single black leather bag. It would take more than that for me to pack up my side of the master bathroom.
“That’s the same name as the mystery freezer man and general contractor, remember?” I thought back to the dress shoes and business attire again. Antiques dealer seemed much more fitting. When I clicked on the About Us tab, his picture confirmed it.
“Who said he’s the contractor?” Finn asked.
“Aunt Lupe,” I said, and then stopped short. My face must’ve given away my thoughts. “But someone else must’ve been the one to tell her that. It was probably the news,” I said.
Finn gave a me a look that said, C’mon. Even I had to admit that it sounded like I was making excuses, but there had to be another explanation.
“She’s my aunt!”
“By marriage,” Finn countered.
“Still. She wouldn’t go off and murder two people,” I said.
“Not even if she figured out that the dowry belonged to her family and she was desperate for the money? And aren’t you always saying people do abhorrent things when they’re desperate?”
“Yeah, but—”
“And don’t you always say to look for the motive?”
“Okay, but Finn, why kill two people while we’re here? She knows solving crimes is my thing. Why chance that?”
“I don’t know. I’m just saying it all fits.”
I had to think about this objectively. If Lupe wasn’t my aunt, would I be defending her? Probably not. But she was my aunt. That had to count for something.
“This is ridiculous. Let me call her and see where she heard that from.” Was the news on while she was making breakfast? I thought back. Yes. Yes, it was.
But my aunt didn’t answer her phone. And my uncle didn’t answer his. And no one answered the house phone. Finn watched me go through their numbers. My brow furrowed deeper with each line I tried.
“Where did they go?” I asked him. Of course, it was a rhetorical question. “Let’s swing back by their house. Something’s not right.”
Finn was already holding our hotel room’s door open before the last word was out of my mouth.
On the quick drive back to their place, I kept thinking how nuts this all was. No way was my aunt a murderer. It couldn’t be true. I then thought back to all the other murderers I’d known in my life. Yes, I had a list. Had I suspected any of them?
No. No, I had not.
My stomach flopped and I prayed the clues were all wrong.
My knees started to bounce, and Finn started tapping his. No hiding our nerves. The cab driver eyed us through the rearview mirror. I could only imagine what he was thinking. It might’ve been my imagination, but I swear he stepped on it.
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