“This one? She helped you with Mr. Hunt, too, didn’t she? You were going to sell the mirrors to him,” I said, piecing it together.
“That man asked too many questions. Wanted proof of ownership. Since when is a man’s word not good enough? He had to come around the hotel asking questions. Said he heard about the dowry. Had some fancy French book in his shop with a secret letter. Claimed it all went together.”
Mariah’s letter, I thought.
“I didn’t care about any of that. I was going to take that payout and finally retire.”
Mr. Alvarez got a far-off look in his eyes. I took it as an opening and karate kicked him right in the chest. The gun went off. With my right arm, I put Mr. Alvarez in a headlock. Good thing he was old, because I was able to bring him to the ground and I jumped on his back.
HUFF! I felt all the air leave his lungs. I wasn’t about to let him get up either.
Finn came barreling into the room. His eyes darted from Mr. Alvarez to me, and back again, a horrified expression on his face. I sat there stunned. Maybe it was because of everything that had just happened, or maybe it was because I had just been shot in the shoulder.
Finn raced over to us, picking me up off of Mr. Alvarez.
“Gun,” I said, pointing to the floor with my good arm.
I sat down on the bed. “Son of a lollipop, that stings!”
Mr. Roberto came charging into the room a second later. Finn had taken over subduing Mr. Alvarez. Thankfully the man was too shocked to speak, and I was able to explain what had happened. Well, most of it. I neglected to mention that we were going to steal the mirrors in the first place.
The FBI arrived and handcuffed Mr. Alvarez. Yes, I was shocked to see them too, until I spoke to Piper later and learned she had tipped off The Bureau regarding Mr. Hayden’s Puerto Rican powwow. Piper claimed that there were enough documents in Mr. Hayden’s room to lock him up for years. He was arrested on the spot.
And then there was Ms. Roberto. She was arrested shortly afterward in her upstairs residence. She must have figured out something hinkey had happened since she was caught trying to make off with one of the mirrors herself when the FBI knocked on her door. The Casa was just full of crime today.
“And here I had thought you were delusional or simply starved for attention,” Mr. Roberto said to us at the hospital. He had stopped by for a visit and, against my better judgement, I had said he could come in. Mr. Roberto eyed Finn as if my investigative tendencies were somehow his fault. If he’d only pay attention to his little wife more, she would keep her nose out of trouble. I resisted to urge to punch him.
Then to my surprise, Mr. Roberto completely changed his tone. “Mrs. Hudson, I’m truly sorry this happened to you at my hotel. If there’s anything I can do to right this, just let me know.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “There is. I’d like the four mirrors from Mariah Boulet’s dowry returned to her family.”
“The dowry’s real?” Mr. Roberto asking, looking to Finn for confirmation.
“Oh yeah,” Finn replied.
“Yes, the dowry, the ghost…it’s all real and it doesn’t belong to you. It belongs the Boulets. I have all the documentation and I know where three of the mirrors are.”
“You do?”
“Yes, and the documentation describes them to a T,” so don’t try any funny business, I added to myself.
Mr. Roberto shifted uncomfortably. Maybe the pain medication had loosened my lips, then again, who was I kidding? I never needed narcotics to speak my mind.
“You know two people are dead because you cut a man’s pension.”
“What?!”
“That’s what drove Mr. Alvarez to murder Carmen and Mr. Hunt. He was going to take the funds from selling the mirrors and retire,” I said.
“He was?” Mr. Roberto looked truly shocked.
“You need to realize that your actions have consequences. It’s not always about saving a dollar.”
Mr. Roberto looked away. If there was ever a way to humble someone, I may have just figured out how.
“Is that it then?” Mr. Roberto asked after a minute.
“It is. My aunt is a descendant of Mariah Boulet. She can file the court papers tomorrow,” I said.
“That won’t be necessary. She can take them tonight if she’d like.”
My head about fell off my shoulders from turning it so fast to look at my husband. “I know I’m in pain and all, but could I get that in writing? I want to make sure I heard you correctly.”
“I will personally see to it that she receives them,” Mr. Roberto insisted.
“Okay, well one’s in the root cellar, the one’s above the fireplace in your library, and the third is in our hotel room on the bed. I don’t know where the fourth one is.”
“I do. It’s in Mr. Alvarez room,” Mr. Roberto said.
“Of course it is,” I replied.
“I’ll have them packaged up and delivered to your aunt’s house tonight,” Mr. Roberto said.
“Well, you might want to wait until the storm hits.” I had no idea what the latest forecasts were predicting, but we had definitely missed our flight. I could only hope that the hospital would be a safe place to hunker down.
“It’s not going to hit. Not directly. The eye is going to stay offshore,” Mr. Roberto said.
“It’s not? Oh thank goodness.” I plopped back against the hospital-issued pillows and immediately regretted it. I had a feeling my shoulder was going to be hurting for a while.
The nurse decided to make her entrance at that time, and Mr. Roberto bid us farewell, promising once more he would take care of the mirrors.
I couldn’t hide a wince as I moved, and Finn wouldn’t let me turn down the nurse’s offer for more pain meds. I was past due for another dose after all. As the meds went in, my eyelids shut, and finally, finally I was able to get some sleep.
20
The sun was shining and I was sure we’d be able to find a rainbow if I looked hard enough. Finn and I were walking hand-in-hand to Mr. Hunt’s antique store in search of Mariah’s letter. Antique shops and Caribbean islands were full of wonder, and I could’ve spent hours perusing the merchandise. If we didn’t have a flight to catch, we might have done just that. Perhaps next time.
A young girl approached us and asked if we needed any help.
“Hi, I’m looking for a nineteenth-century French book titled ‘The Red and The Black’? I heard you have a copy of it along with a secret letter?”
“We do. My father,” the girl swallowed back her emotion. “Well, he was quite fond of it. Let me show it to you.” She led us to a glass display. The book and the letter were inside it.
“Is the book significant?” I asked the girl.
“Definitely. Stendhal’s Julien Sorel was a very ambitious gentleman. Unfortunately, his intelligence and aspirations often conflicted with his birth rank. Fed up with the rules of society, he chose death over living within life’s hypocrisy.”
“So, Mariah, oh my… she took her own life?” My heart sank even further for the woman. I looked down to read the letter, but quickly realized it wasn’t written in English or Spanish.
“It’s French,” Finn supplied.
“Can you read it?” I asked.
Finn leaned closer.
Dearest Sister,
On the night I post this to you I will have left you forever. Why I am going, I need not detail. Suffice to say, people’s hearts aren’t as true as they seem. You have my love. Learn from my mistakes. Society is less forgiving.
-M
“Why do you think she never mailed it?” Finn asked.
“I think she meant to, along with the book, but it never made it out of the hotel.” I felt Mariah nodding in agreement.
“Whose heart wasn’t true?” Finn asked, reading the note again.
“Whose was? Both of the men she loved failed her and left her to face society’s judgement. The first in France, forcing her to move halfway around
the world. Frederick’s betrayal?” Because based on her note, I was convinced that Professor Javier’s version of the story was true. Mariah had caught Frederick with another woman. “Well it was just too much.”
I looked back at the book inside the case. At that point, I didn’t care how much the book and letter cost. I was going to make sure they were delivered to Mariah’s family. It was time the true story was known.
To Finn’s credit, he didn’t even balk at the price. When we walked out of the store with our purchases, the wind swirled at my feet and danced through my hair. I felt free and I knew it was Mariah’s and Carmen’s spirits, soaring. The air tickled across my cheek as I heard the words thank you whispered in my ear.
I closed my eyes. “You’re welcome,” I said, smiling.
The women’s peace washed over me and this case was officially closed.
Copyright © 2018 by Stephanie Damore
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1
The best part about being married is waking up every morning with your best friend. I knew it was early, given the still-darkened sky outside, but I also knew that if I wanted to cuddle with my hubby, I’d have to do so before sunrise. The man’s profession meant early starts, but his fishing charters were usually done by noon, which made him an excellent lunch date.
I inched closer across the bed and wrapped my arm around his back and over his chest. My advance was greeted with something cold and sticky, which spread across my palm. Then the coppery smell hit me. I didn’t need to look at my hand to know it was covered in blood. A scream pounded my eardrums. I didn’t realize it was coming from me until my voice was hoarse. I flipped Finn over, scanning him for the source of the injury. His lifeless body lulled to the side. Frantically I turned on the bedside table and reached for my phone, dialing 911 as quickly as possible. It wasn’t until the line connected and the dispatcher identified herself that I took a real hard look at the body.
It wasn’t Finn.
But the man was definitely dead.
The officer’s flashlight bounced off the dock boards as he approached my houseboat. I was standing on the side deck. My miniature poodle, Captain Jack, was hugged tightly to my chest. Trust me, this was unusual. My pup was normally spunky, constantly trying to lick my face, but right now he was scared. I had found him hiding under a pile of towels on the bathroom floor and quickly scooped him into my arms. My poor little guy. I scratched his head and gave him a kiss. If only pets could talk. I had so many questions for him.
I could tell the instant the police officer spotted us. His footsteps stopped abruptly, the flashlight beaming me in my face. The light was total overkill seeing the sunrise had started to spill over the horizon, painting the entire harbor in a dreamy orange hue.
“In there,” I said weakly, then clearing my voice to try again. I knew the officer was cataloging my appearance. Flecks of dried blood on my clothes. My disheveled state. I would’ve changed if I had thought of it, but shock clouds your judgement. I had only managed to wash my hands.
The police officer didn’t move.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked him. He was new. You could tell by the way his hands shook, vibrating the flashlight up and down. That, and until then I thought I knew every officer on the force by now. But not him.
The officer seemed lost for words. I hoped his partner, who should be arriving any second, was more eloquent. I let the silence pass until it became too awkward. There’s only so much open-mouthed staring I can stand. I had to say something.
“Do you want to call Detective Roxy? Tell her Ziva found a dead body on her houseboat. She’ll understand.” Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t understand per se, but she wouldn’t be shocked. I was also fairly certain that she wouldn’t put me in handcuffs, something I saw the officer reaching for.
I tried to look as unthreatening as possible. When the officer didn’t move or respond, I added, “And you might want to have me step aside or escort me to your partner. I’m sure you’d like clear my house and let the medics have a go at the body.” Oh yeah, this definitely wasn’t my first rodeo.
The officer, still mute, swallowed dryly and nodded in agreement. I wasn’t sure which part he was agreeing to, but Captain Jack and I proceeded to walk slowly toward him.
“Ziva?” A man’s voice called to me when I was a little more than halfway down the dock.
I recognized the officer’s voice. “Kevin?” I squinted. It was hard to make out faces with the Silent One’s flashlight now blinding me.
“You okay?” he asked, walking over to the other officer and lowering the flashlight so it cast its light onto the dock and surrounding water instead.
“Thanks.” I blinked a couple times, letting my eyes adjust to the breaking sunrise. “Yeah, I’m fine.” My voice shook, betraying me. Captain Jack turned to face me and tried to lick my face. I gently turned his muzzle away and noticed Kevin staring at my appearance. “Not my blood,” I said by way of explanation. “But, there’s a dead guy on my boat. I woke up next to him.”
Kevin went on high alert then, scanning the docks and surrounding boats for a potential threat. I thought that was a good idea and started doing the same as I walked the rest of the way toward them.
“Finn?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
At first, I had just been relieved that the dead body hadn’t been his. I hadn’t allowed myself to think of where he might be. The possibilities made my legs wobble. I locked my knees and stood up straight.
“I … I didn’t check the whole house.” I couldn’t finish, but Kevin knew what I meant. What if Finn was hurt somewhere in the house, or worse? I had gone to bed with him next to me, but now? I couldn’t even go there without tripping a panic attack.
I looked away, willing the gruesome images playing in my head to stop. An ambulance pulled in the lot at that moment, followed by a car I instantly recognized but had hardly expected. My breathing slowed just a bit and the smallest of smiles lifted my lips.
Detective Bob Brandle was on the scene.
“Walk Ziva to the EMTs, let them check her out, and then come back here to do a walkthrough with me,” Kevin instructed the Silent One.
Normally I would’ve protested. I felt fine, expect maybe for a sore arm, which was probably from the way I slept. Except at that moment, I did want to get away and find out what exactly my old detective friend was doing here. Plus, a little distance would help me get my bearings, something I had a feeling I would need for the ensuing hours.
My previously overworked detective friend looked much better in retirement. His eyes weren’t so puffy, and he had traded in his creased, white button-down shirt and black dress pants for a fun and fresh yellow polo shirt and matching spring plaid shorts. He could be on his way to the golf course in his outfit, and maybe he was. Even if it was awfully early. I cocked my head to the side as I met up with him as if to ask What are you doing here?
Detective Brandle caught my drift. “Once a homicide detective, always a homicide detective.” He reached over and scratched Captain Jack’s ears. My pup wiggled in my arms until I put him down so Detective Brandle could pick him back up. The little traitor.
“Well it’s good to see you, even under the circumstances.” My eyes drifted to the crime scene. I felt my throat tighten and my eyes well up. I shook my head to keep the tears from spilling and took a deep breath to get my emotions under control. No way was I going to lose it. Not right now. Not in public. I’m an ugly crier, and I wasn’t about to make a scene. I hated when people did that. It gave me the heeby jeebies and left me itching to make an escape. I didn’t want to do that to my poor friend. He had looked so happy to see me.
“Still can’t keep your nose out of trouble, huh kid?” H
e put the pup down and handed me a tissue from his shorts pocket.
That got a genuine smile out of me. The last time I had met up with Detective Brandle, he was sneaking a cinnamon roll at Sweet Thangs, the best bakery in all of Port Haven. They also brewed a mean mug of chai, which I absolutely loved. In fact, I had been picking up my favorite beverage to go on my way to the shop when I spotted him hiding out at a back table.
“You’re busted!” I joked, making him jump and drop the over-sized pastry on the table.
He looked chagrin, but that didn’t stop him from licking the icing off his fingers. You see, Detective Brandle was diabetic, and his misses would have him for breakfast if she knew what he was eating at that moment.
Anyway, during our little chit chat, the detective told me he’d heard of my travels, from Tampa to Las Vegas, and across the Atlantic to Puerto Rico, and the dead bodies that had followed me along the way.
“You’re a fine detective,” he had said. I took that as a real compliment given my only credentials were a knack for finding trouble and an insatiable need to know the truth. Perhaps that’s all it really took?
I took a hard look at Detective Brandle and saw how the years of being a homicide detective had worn him down. Yes, he was more refreshed, but there was something, the cop part, that would always remain.
I shook my head, chiding myself. No, there was definitely something more to being a detective. Something that I didn’t think I wanted to have.
In that next moment, I recognized the second detective arriving upon the scene. Detective Roxy parked in the gravel lot, swung her long legs out of her black Camaro and made her way over to me quicker than I could have ever accomplished with my short self. Detective Roxy was a voluptuous blonde with the brains to match. I liked to call her Foxy Roxy. Thankfully, she had taken my makeup advice and toned her look down, but every now and then I’d catch her sporting blue eyeshadow and the frosted pink lipstick she was so fond of. I guess old habits die hard.
Beauty Secrets Mystery Boxed Set 2 Page 29