by K C Ames
“I don’t get it,” Dana said. “If Skylar was going to be arrested and charged with killing Roy, you would have gotten away with murder, scot-free. No one knew about your involvement.”
“Did you not hear what I said? This blown deal would leave me destitute. I’ve been stealing from my clients to keep up my good life. But they will soon catch on. And I’ll be worse than poor, I’ll be in jail. I will not let that happen. Besides, I earned that money! It’s my money. I’ve gone this far. I already killed Roy, so why not go a little further to make sure the deal goes through?” Felicia said.
“So you’re going to kill us both, how is that going to save your sale?” Dana asked.
“Barca let Skylar stay here for a few days so she would be out of his hair while he made the arrangements to send her back to California. This is one of his many homes I manage, like a servant. Everyone knows how snoopy you are sticking your nose into Picado’s case, so it won’t surprise anyone that when you found out that Skylar was here, you drove out here in your jeep. We’ll never know what went down, perhaps you were both in cahoots to kill poor Roy, but in the end, you kill Skylar with the same knife that killed Roy, but good old Skylar manages to shoot you with this gun Barca keeps at this house. You both die. I still have the signed contract with Roy and Skylar, so I have that covered, but why settle just for the commission? After all that hard work I’ve done and putting up with all the Kirkpatrick dysfunction, I deserve it all. So all I need for you to do is sign this new contract, where you’re selling Casa Verde to me for a very favorable contract for deed which I’ve backdated. Barca’s high-powered lawyers will make sure our contract is validated and I’m a millionaire by next summer. I have my eye on a lovely condo in Ibiza.”
“Well, you’ve thought everything through, but if you’re going to kill me, why on Earth would I sign your stupid contract for deed?” Dana said.
Felicia lost some of the smugness and bravado as she glared at Dana.
“Since the first day we met, I’ve always said that you talk too much,” Dana said. She surprised herself on how she was handling everything with such confidence against someone who was planning to kill her.
Felicia stood in front of the couch with her back to the railing. She wobbled from the booze but she recovered and got into a shooting stance with both hands on the gun.
“Then I just kill you both because I can’t stand either of you and then I disappear somewhere in Europe while I regroup. I actually like that idea even more. I’ll be happily reliving killing three annoying Kirkpatricks.”
Felicia cocked the revolver and pointed it at Dana. She glared at her and Dana realized what it meant when an evil person was said to have murder in their eyes. Suddenly Skylar sprung from the couch like a loose spring and she plowed into Felicia head first, shoving her back towards the banister. Dana watched in horror as Felicia screamed as she went over the railing and fell down below.
“Oh, no,” Dana screamed as she ran to the edge just as Skylar’s momentum was about to take her over the railing too. She had her hands tied, so she was helpless, but just as she was about to follow Felicia over the railing, Dana embraced Skylar in a bear hug and pulled back hard, falling onto the floor with Skylar landing on top of her. It hurt, but she was alive. And so was Skylar. Dana ignored the soreness and quickly got to her feet and looked over the railing down below to see what happened to Felicia. She had fallen three stories, landing on the very expensive, hard Italian marble floor.
She was dead.
Epilogue
The English and Spanish-language newspapers and television news channel went on a media feeding frenzy.
Casa Verde, Barca’s home, and the footpath where Roy was killed, had become hot destinations for the macabre tourists.
The few days after everything went down between Dana, Skylar, and Felicia, things got so bad that Freddy Sanchez, the Tourist Police Officer, had to park his motocross bike in front of Casa Verde’s front gate to keep the reporters and selfie-seeking onlookers out of the way and in check.
By the start of the second week after Felicia’s death, everything had died down and interest in the case dwindled. Officer Freddy was back patrolling the beaches on his motorcycle and Dana finally could leave Casa Verde and go into town in peace.
“There she is!” Mindy had yelled out when Dana finally could make her way back to the coffee shop. “I’m not going to lie, all that attention was great for business! I might even go on vacation,” Mindy joked after feeding the masses of police investigators, reporters, and looky-loos that had descended onto Mariposa Beach.
All the local merchants of Ark Row, although concerned for what Dana had gone through, were happy at all the extra business Felicia’s crime spree had brought to town. When pictures of Mariposa Beach’s beautiful white sand and turquoise calm waters began to appear on the television news, websites, and in all the papers, new tourists began to arrive into town.
Claudio Villalobos even told Dana that since news of the crimes had been picked up by the cable news channels like CNN and other international news outlets like the BBC, they were now getting guests wanting to come to the luxurious resort they saw on the news.
“I guess there is no such thing as bad publicity,” Dana had told Benny, amazed that the lurid details of what had happened had provided the little beach town a huge business boost.
“Silver linings, I guess,” Benny said, equally perplexed at the post-crime events.
The OIJ forensics team from San José corroborated Dana and Skylar’s version of the events after analyzing the tumble that Felicia Banks had taken to her death. The gun she had tried to use to kill Dana and Skylar landed on the floor below near her body.
Felicia’s death was ruled self-defense, and they cleared both Skylar and Dana of any wrongdoing.
The blood on the knife that Felicia had shown Dana matched Roy Kirkpatrick’s blood, so it was found to be the knife used to kill him, and Dana and Skylar were cleared from any involvement in Roy’s murder.
It couldn’t have been a cleaner way to wrap up the murder investigation for Detective Picado, not that he showed any relief or happiness about that. Even when he had officially cleared Dana, he did it with a scowl on his face and then he hightailed it back to Nicoya.
It overjoyed detective Rojas, who hugged Dana and wished her luck in her new hometown.
A few days later, Gustavo Barca sent a dozen yellow roses to Dana with a note that read:
“Dana, I’m glad you’re okay. If you ever change your mind about selling Casa Verde, don’t hesitate to call me. Regards, Gustavo.”
“The nerve of that son of a biscuit, he just won’t give up,” Dana said incredulously.
“Those are beautiful flowers, though,” Courtney said, smelling the roses.
Skylar had been shell-shocked after sending Felicia Banks over that railing. Once Felicia had fallen, Dana undid Skylar’s restraints, and she had removed the duct tape from her mouth.
The two former enemies hugged and cried, and Dana thanked Skylar for saving her life and Skylar thanked her for stopping her from going over the railing too, thus saving her life as well.
It was an odd feeling that they had saved each other's lives. While they waited for the police to arrive, Dana had apologized for thinking she had killed Roy, and Skylar said the same thing.
As soon as Picado cleared Skylar, she left Costa Rica.
Once back in California, she dropped the case against Dana, believing the land to be a curse she wanted nothing to do with anymore. Dana imagined she was fine with collecting Roy’s life insurance and moving on.
When Dana asked what she should do with Roy’s body, Skylar told her that Roy had mentioned that he wanted to be cremated, but that she didn't care what Dana did with his body. She didn't want it.
Dana felt that was cold. It seemed old Skylar was getting back to normal.
So in keeping with Roy’s wishes, as soon as the OIJ released his body to Dana, who was his next of kin in Cos
ta Rica, she had him cremated. Since Skylar didn’t want his ashes, Dana and Benny put his ashes into a beautiful urn that they gave to a very grateful Marisol Arias.
Benny and Dana drove Courtney to the Juan Santamaría International Airport in Alajuela. Courtney had stayed on for another two weeks. Her boss was furious, so she wasn’t sure if she had a job waiting for her back in San Francisco, but she couldn’t leave Dana on her own dealing with the aftermath of one of the biggest crimes to hit the Costa Rican coast.
After tearful goodbyes and promises that they would visit each other in their respective home turfs, Courtney went through the security checkpoint at the terminal, disappearing into the passenger-only gate area of the airport.
It had been almost a week since Courtney went back to San Francisco, and although Dana missed her like crazy, she was glad to start her new life without all the drama of the past few weeks.
She had become closer to Mindy and had gone back to yoga, becoming friends with her new yoga teacher, Marisol Arias.
It had been a few days since she had seen Benny, who was back in San José at his law practice. She hated to admit it to herself, but she missed him a lot, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But she would worry about those feelings on another day.
Benny arrived right on time, as usual. They hugged. Dana felt it was an awkward hug.
Benny smiled wide, and he held her by the shoulders and said, “It’s official, Casa Verde is yours, free and clear!”
At first, Dana gulped, thinking he was going for a kiss, and although she felt disappointment that he wasn’t—stop thinking about that—Dana squealed with excitement over the good news and she hugged Benny again. This time it didn’t feel awkward.
He pulled out a chilled bottle of champagne and two glasses. “This calls for some bubbly and a toast,” Benny declared proudly as he twisted on the cork until it popped loudly as champagne gushed out like a geyser.
He poured the bubbly into the glasses.
“So now you can stay for sure,” Benny said, smiling.
“I am,” Dana said, tearing up.
“Have you given more thought to that business idea you mentioned?”
“You really think it’s a good idea?” Dana asked.
“I think a bookstore is a wonderful idea, and we all know you have a lot of inventory,” Benny said, pointing at the library with Uncle Blake’s huge collection of paperbacks.
“Everything is going digital,” Dana said. She was unsure if it made sense to open a bookstore.
“People love beach and pool reads, and the tablets and Kindles can be a pain, they can get wet, fried in the hot tropical sun, stolen, so people love paperbacks on the beach, and you would be the only English-language bookstore in the Nosara district. I think it’s worth a shot,” Benny said.
“I might just do it, then. But I need to mull it over more. For now, I want to celebrate this victory,” Dana said, smiling.
Benny held up his glass of champagne and said, “Here’s to you and your new home, Casa Verde.”
Dana smiled. “Thanks to you and Uncle Blake, cheers.”
“Ching, ching,” Benny said as they clinked glasses.
Wally the cat waltzed in from around the corner and looked up at Dana and meowed his approval.
About This Book
New bookstore, new dead body!
Days away from the grand opening of her new bookstore, Dana Kirkpatrick couldn’t be more excited, until her excitement turns to horror when she discovers a dead body between the bookshelves.
Now Dana must find the killer, protect a valuable book collection, and hopefully, open her store as planned while her own life is in danger.
Can the San Francisco transplant solve the case and open her bookstore before anyone else dies?
Although this is a series the books stand alone and you can read them in any order you like.
One
After months of preparation, and a lot of the proverbial sweat, blood, and tears, the grand opening of Dana Kirkpatrick’s bookstore was two days away, but there was still a lot to do before then, so she woke up earlier than usual to tackle her never-ending to-do list as soon as possible.
At five a.m. her iPhone alarm blasted a Luscious Jackson song, waking her and Wally up.
Wally was Dana’s cat, who had been sleeping at the bottom of the bed, curled up against her legs. Dana yawned and sat up, looking down at the kitty that looked back at her with just one eye open. She laughed at his what do you think you’re doing this early look he gave her.
“Good morning,” she said to the cat.
Wally was not amused with her early morning cheeriness. Dana could almost swear that if he weren’t so comatose, he would have hissed back.
“Hey, don’t give me that ’tude, I have a lot of stuff to do today. Grand opening is a few days away.”
Wally plopped his tiny head back onto the bed. He yawned and stretched while lying on his side. She wouldn’t get any help from him.
“Bum,” Dana said as she got out of bed.
To her surprise, Wally got up. “Oh, you are going to help? Good, because you need to get some practice at being the bookstore cat.”
Wally yawned for what must have been the fifth time, but he tossed in a downward-facing dog yoga pose at the same time, then he moseyed up to where Dana had been sleeping and plopped down on the warm spot she had left behind, promptly going back to sleep.
“Or not,” Dana said, chuckling as she made her way to the bathroom.
She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and quickly got dressed. She glanced over at the bed as she slipped on her Rothy’s slip-on flat shoes, perfect for the busy day she had in front of her.
Wally was fast asleep again and didn’t even bother to look up at her as she made her way out of the room. She gave him one more look over her shoulder. He was out cold.
“Bum,” she said again, making her way downstairs to the kitchen.
It was 5:12 a.m. She grabbed a bag of fresh coffee beans from her friend Mindy’s family farm in the Tarrazú region.
The beans had just been packed up a few days ago. It doesn’t get fresher than this, Dana thought as she dumped a few spoonfuls of the delicious-smelling beans into a bean grinder. She hit the button, and the machine began to whirl and buzz as it ground up the beans.
She added water to the coffeemaker while the bean grinder did its thing. When the machine stopped making its racket, she took the container of freshly ground coffee and she put her nose in there like she was sniffing fine wine and took a deep inhale. Smells so good, she thought as she dumped the freshly ground coffee into the coffeemaker and hit the brew button—something she had done so often that the text spelling “brew” on the button had long ago rubbed off.
While the coffee brewed, she ate a bowl of dry cereal and a banana handpicked from her backyard.
Less than ten minutes later, with a large coffee tumbler in hand, she climbed into Big Red—the nickname she had given to her cherry-red vintage 1948 Jeep Willys, which was parked in the carport.
She fired Big Red up and she made the quick drive from her place to Ark Row on Main Street, where all the retail stores in town were located and where her soon-to-open bookstore would join the ark row.
It was about 5:35 a.m. and still pitch-dark out when she parked in front. She had a heavy box of books that she had packed up the day before in the backseat, so she would have to come back for the coffee tumbler full of that precious life-giving liquid.
She grabbed the box, struggling to get a good grip on it. It was heavy, but she got a good hold of it as she made her way to her locked store.
At the front door, she hoisted the box onto a bent knee as she fidgeted around in her bag for the store’s keys, which seemed to think it would be fun to play a game of hide-and-seek as she tried to balance the heavy box on one knee.
“Dang it,” she said, giving up the balancing act. She plopped the heavy box on the floor by her feet so she could focus on finding
the elusive key.
“There you are, you little stinker,” she said out loud into her purse as she pulled out the key.
She unlocked the upward-coiling security grille that restricted access to the front door and pushed it up until it rolled up into a tube. Now she had access to the front door, which she unlocked. She turned on the lights then went back outside and picked up the box of books and hoisted it onto the counter.
She felt a strange energy that made the tiny brown hairs on her arm stand at attention. She shrugged it off. It was early in the morning—dark and quiet, which caused the brain to interpret it as an ominous vibe.
“What you need is coffee,” she said out loud to herself. She began to head to the door in order to go fetch her coffee tumbler from the Jeep, but that creepy vibe niggled at the back of her mind as she walked, so she looked over her shoulder towards the counter and froze.
Did I just see what I saw?
She turned around to be sure, taking a few steps towards the counter, trying to convince herself that it was the darkness or the sleep in her eyes messing with her, making her see things that weren’t there.
Too bad it wasn’t just her mind playing tricks on her.
She wanted to scream but couldn’t. She wanted to run outside but couldn’t. Her feet felt like they were encased in two buckets of hardened cement.
She stood there for what seemed to be hours, but was just a moment or two as she stared down at the floor, at the two feet sticking out from the other side of the counter.
Finally, her body released her mind from its stupor and she ran outside, screaming.
Two
Three months earlier—before she found a dead body inside her bookstore—Dana had stood in the center of that very spot which had been an empty retail store for years and known it was the perfect spot for her bookstore.