by K C Ames
“I see you’re taking very good care of her,” he said, ogling the car.
Dana glanced at his nametag. “I try my best, Frank.”
Once inside, Claudio Villalobos, the concierge manager for the resort, greeted her warmly. He was the son of Casa Verde’s caretakers, Ramón and Carmen Villalobos.
Claudio had helped Dana before, so she had texted him about coming up to the resort.
It was a risky move for the young man who dreamed of one day opening his own hotel right in Mariposa Beach, since he worked for Gustavo Barca and he would have been fired on the spot if he found out that he had provided information to Dana during her legal battle for Casa Verde.
Claudio loved Dana’s uncle, who had paid for his college education in hotel management, and he wasn’t too keen on letting Barca take over Casa Verde, since he didn’t hide the fact that his plans for the property meant tossing his parents out of their home too.
To her relief, Barca wasn’t around anyway.
“We could have met at your parents’ house, Claudio. I get nervous that you’ll get in trouble being seen with me here at the resort,” Dana said, looking around like she was casing the joint.
“Mr. Barca is on a shopping trip at Miami with his wife. He won’t be back until next week, so I’m not worried. Besides,” he said, unable to suppress a wide smile, he leaned in close to Dana, “my days here are numbered. I’ve been offered a position at the Four Seasons in the Papagayo Peninsula.”
“Wow, congrats,” Dana said, hugging him. Courtney also offered her congratulations. “When do you start there?”
“I’m giving them my two weeks’ notice on Monday, so please keep this just between us.”
“Of course, you got it. So, how do your parents feel about you leaving town?”
The Four Seasons resort was a three-hour car ride away from Mariposa Beach on the other side of the Guanacaste province.
“It’s a better job. Assistant to the General Manager. A big pay bump, so they’re happy for me, and they’re also glad that I’m getting away from you know who and his mini me,” he said, whispering. Dana knew he was referring to Gustavo Barca and his insufferable general manager for the resort—a micro-manager whose lips seemed to be surgically attached to Barca’s behind.
Dana giggled. “I’m happy for you, but I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll be coming around a lot to visit my parents, so you won’t be getting rid of me that easily.”
“Good,” Dana said. “So… did you find anything about Chris Smith?”
“I was just going to text you back so you could save the drive up. I’m afraid he’s not staying here,” Claudio said.
“Did he check out?”
“No, he never checked in. I went back two months, and there hasn’t been a Chris Smith from Chicago checked in at all.”
Dana was surprised.
“Chris Smith is a common name. Any other people with that name from some other state?” Dana asked.
“There were a few Smiths but we haven’t had any guests named Chris Smith in the last couple months.”
“Well, that puts a damper on things,” Dana replied.
“You drove all the way up here, why not stay for lunch? On the house,” Claudio said, offering two free lunch vouchers.
As much as Dana loathed Gustavo Barca and what he wanted to do to her home, she couldn’t deny that the man went all out with his resort, including its restaurants.
“Why not?” Dana said.
“Yay, I’m starving, and the food here is so good,” Courtney said, taking the vouchers from Claudio before Dana could change her mind.
“Thank you so much, Claudio.”
Twenty-Four
After striking out on finding Chris Smith or whatever his real name was at the resort, Dana and Courtney headed back to Casa Verde, but at least their bellies were full with a delicious gourmet meal that was on Barca’s dime. It made the meal that much more scrumptious for Dana.
“He probably gave Mindy a fake name and lied about where he was staying, which really raises my suspicions about him,” Dana said as she slowed down to avoid a huge pothole in the middle of the road.
They made it back to Casa Verde and settled in.
“What now?” Courtney asked as she plopped down on the living room sofa.
Just then Dana’s phone buzzed. Dana looked down at a text message from Mindy.
“Holy cow!”
“What?”
“Chris Smith was at Mindy’s cafe just now.”
“Don’t tell me you want to rush down there.”
“No. Mindy just sent me his picture.”
Courtney sprang from the couch towards Dana. “Let me see,” she said, peering into the phone’s screen. Dana was looking at the man that had been so pushy and rude to her for the better part of a week.
“Hmmm,” Courtney said.
“What?”
“I was expecting a muscled-up thug, but he looks like Dwight Schrute.”
“And he’s just as annoying as Dwight Schrute.”
“So what now?”
“I have his picture. If anyone can help me put a name to the face, it’s Bucky,” Dana said, referring to her friend in Silicon Valley, Bucky Moreland, who had designed her bookselling software.
Dana called Bucky right away and they connected via FaceTime.
He was more than happy to help out. He loved technical challenges, and figuring out who the loudmouth really was from a single, somewhat blurry iPhone photograph was right up his alley.
“Ooh, so NSA-like. I’m In Like Flint,” he had told Dana.
After hanging up with Bucky, Dana joined Courtney in the kitchen, where she was in the process of making a pitcher of banana daiquiri. “Bucky is off and running,” she informed her.
Courtney looked up from the center island, where she had all the accoutrements needed for her banana daiquiri: Flor de Caña rum from Nicaragua, a can of coconut milk, lime juice—courtesy of the lime tree in the backyard—sugar, ice, and bananas—also courtesy from the banana plants in the backyard.
Courtney gave her a thin smile as she sliced the limes. Dana knew she didn’t approve of her snooping.
“He said to give him a couple of days. I hope it doesn’t take him that long to find out who this guy is.”
“So now you’re into facial-recognition snooping,” Courtney said without looking up from her chopping.
“Maybe Bucky can dig up something we can pass along to the police so everyone is happy,” Dana said.
“Maybe the police will solve this before Bucky and you will still get in trouble for meddling with a police investigation,” was Courtney’s brusque reply.
“Hey, no complaints from me if Detective Picado can solve this and I can open my bookstore.”
“He’ll probably give you the go-ahead to open your store pretty soon. They don’t need to keep it closed once all the forensic stuff is done, even if they haven’t caught the killer.”
Courtney looked down at her handiwork. Everything was ready, so she tossed all the goodies into the blender. Before Dana could reply, the blender roared to life.
She poured the drinks into two tall glasses, which she then garnered with a thin wedge of lime.
“Beautiful. You haven’t lost your touch,” Dana said, referring to Courtney’s days as a bartender.
Unlike a lot of the Berkeley students, Dana and Courtney didn’t come from money, so they were able to attend thanks to in-state tuition pricing, academic scholarships, swim team scholarship, and working as servers and bartenders in restaurants and bars around the Bay Area.
They sat out on the deck, watching the sunset and sipping on their drinks.
“It really is beautiful here. So nice and quiet compared to San Francisco. I’m not used to hearing crickets and critters at night, just sirens and people acting stupid,” Courtney said.
“You can see why I like it here despite the craziness I’ve had to deal with since moving down here.”
>
“It’s ironic. You moved down here for peace and quiet.”
It was an irony that hadn’t been lost on Dana.
“Mmm, it’s good,” she said, tasting the tropical drink.
“So what’s up with Benny?” Courtney asked.
“He’s been working up in San José, but he’s making his way back for the weekend.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Courtney took a sip of her drink, eyeing her mischievously. “I mean what’s going on between you two?”
“I’ve already told you: nothing, strictly friends with a side of legal help when I need it.”
“Well, the chemistry between you two is off the charts.”
Dana did an actual eye roll.
“It’s true!”
“The chemistry was off the charts with Phil too… look how that ended,” Dana was referring to Phil Miller, her ex-husband.
“Slow down, girlfriend. I’m not saying you should marry the guy, just date him.”
Dana rolled her eyes again. She couldn’t help it.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, missy,” Courtney said, head to one side, her hands on her hips.
The two friends laughed.
“But seriously… it’s obvious like that nose on your face that Benny is into you and you’re into him, and I’m not talking about being pals.”
Dana blushed. She couldn’t throw a fast one by her.
Just then her phone buzzed, so she glanced down. As if he knew they were talking about him, it was from Benny, letting her know that he was a couple hours away from Mariposa Beach. He told her he would drive straight to her place, then the three of them could go out to dinner.
“So, we have a couple hours before Benny gets here,” Dana said.
“What do you want to do?”
Sleep had been hard to come by the last few days, but after a couple daiquiris, she felt a bit sleepy, so Dana opted for a nap.
“Do you mind if I take a nap?”
“No, not at all. Go get some sleep. I have some work to do, so I’ll jump on my laptop.”
Dana slept for a couple hours with Wally curled up next to her. She sat up in bed and checked on the time.
“Whoa, Wally, any more sleep and this wouldn’t have been a nap, but just out-cold sleeping.”
She showered and dressed and joined Courtney downstairs, chitchatting until Benny arrived on time, as usual.
The three of them caught up for a while out on the deck.
He was giving the latest updates from San José and Dana updating him on her and Bucky’s “investigation,” as she called it.
“You mean snooping,” Benny said.
“Are you two sharing notes? All you need is for you to get my mom into the disapproval tango you guys are doing.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Courtney said, smiling.
“I just wish you would let the police do their job,” Benny said seriously.
“Ditto,” Courtney added.
“I am, but let’s see what Bucky comes up with. I want to know who this Chris Smith is anyway, since he’s been stalking me for days. It’s not like the police would do anything about that, and I don’t want to pull police resources from finding Barry’s killer so I can open my bookstore. So as far as I can tell, it can’t hurt to let Bucky work his tech magic.”
Benny and Courtney exchanged a nervous glance.
“Anyway. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m starving. Let’s go get dinner.”
They decided to go someplace different for dinner this time, not their usual eating haunts of Mariposa Beach, which boiled down to the Qué Vista Restaurant or Linda’s Soda.
“Let’s go for a gourmet meal at the Oceanview Restaurant?” Dana suggested.
“The Dutchman’s place?” Courtney asked, sounding suspicious.
“Yeah, Ike’s place.”
Benny and Courtney gave her an incredulous look at the same time.
“What?”
“Last time we ate there, you weren’t very impressed with the food,” Courtney said.
“Ah, but now that Ike is on the radar of Picado’s investigation…” Benny added.
Twenty-Five
“Dana, am I glad to see you, welcome,” Ike Van de Berg greeted Dana, Benny, and Courtney at the door of his restaurant. The greeting confused Dana. She had chatted with Ike a few times since she moved to Mariposa Beach, and this was only her second visit to his restaurant, so it’s not like they were on super friendly terms.
“Glad… to… see you, too…” Dana replied confused, realizing she said it in a tone that sounded more like a question.
Ike sat them at one of the best tables in the restaurant, next to the window overlooking the ocean. The restaurant was built on the edge of a steep cliff, so the table gave the appearance of teetering on the edge of the cliff.
Eduardo, the sommelier, greeted them as they settled in. Based on his expert recommendations, they picked a French red wine.
“This is nice,” Benny said, sounding surprised. Dana smiled. She knew both of her friends were upset about coming to Ike’s restaurant, since they weren’t there for the dinner or the ambience but to snoop.
“That was a warm greeting you got from Ike,” Courtney said.
“Right?” Dana replied, sounding relieved she wasn’t the only one that picked up on that vibe.
Before they could talk about it further, Eduardo was back with the wine; he took his sommelier duties seriously, showing the bottle to the table, seeking approval before uncorking it. Dana smiled and nodded, and he proceeded to open the bottle and pour a tasting sample into Dana’s glass. She didn’t recall being the one that ordered it, but since she had been given the responsibility to vet the wine, she picked up the glass and brought it to her nose sniffing a couple times, then took a small sip.
“Delicious, thank you.”
“The bottle is complimentary from Don Ike,” Eduardo said as he poured.
“Okay, wow, thanks,” Dana said as Eduardo filled Courtney and Benny’s glasses.
“Enjoy,” he said walking away.
“What’s up with that?” Courtney asked.
“I don’t have a clue,” Dana said.
“Ike’s closefisted about how many bread rolls he serves, so I can’t believe he’s parting with an expensive bottle of wine,” Benny said.
Ike came over and asked how the wine tasted. They all complimented him in his wine selection and thanked him for the free bottle.
“Dana, mind if I speak with you privately in my office?” Ike asked, sounding almost embarrassed.
Dana looked at Benny and Courtney and imagined she was sporting the same puzzled expression on her face.
“Of course,” she said as she got up and excused herself.
Ike apologized for interrupting their dinner and promised he wouldn’t keep her long.
As she followed Ike to his office, the thought that she might be following a killer alone crept through her mind, but he would have to really be off the rails to try something nefarious at his restaurant during busy dining time.
The restaurant’s outdoor facade and decor inside were regal-like, which their neo-classical look attempted to convey. It wasn’t up to Dana’s taste, reminding her of one of the gaudy casinos in Las Vegas more than anything else. She didn’t know what to expect of his office, but was surprised that it was rather unremarkable in comparison to the brand Ike was going for. But she figured few guests would find themselves in the office, so Ike wasn’t about to spend a lot of money decking it out.
“Sit, please,” he said as he sat down on his chair behind his desk. The desk was a flimsy metal desk you could buy for cheap at the office supply box stores. It looked like it was made from the same materials they used to make a tin can of sardines.
Dana sat. “So, what’s up, Ike?”
He seemed embarrassed as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.
“It’s the cheap stuff, but it’s quite good. A nice kick to it, would you like some?” he
said, holding up his glass of bourbon.
“No, thank you.”
He took a drink.
“I didn’t kill Barry Shy.”
Dana joined Benny and Courtney back at their table ten minutes later.
“We were starting to worry,” Courtney said.
“What did he want to talk to you about?”
“It was a bit awkward, but I just think he needed to talk to someone who would understand what it’s like to be falsely suspected of murder,” Dana said, taking a big drink from her glass of wine.
She looked around, feeling weird talking about it within earshot of other diners and of Ike’s staff.
“So he didn’t confess to murder,” Courtney said jokingly.
“Not funny, Court,” Dana replied. “He’s heard the rumor mill working overtime around town about him and Barry. He said they did have a bitter dispute over land access behind his restaurant. Barry’s cabin is just a couple miles up the mountain, so he liked to come down and go through his dumpster for recyclables and who knows what else, which made Ike furious to have a disheveled, bearded man going through his garbage, so he put a lock on it, which put Barry on a warpath, causing a lot of disruption to his business. He would come down during busy dinnertime and he would park his trike across the street and yell obscenities at Ike’s customers. Ike filed a complaint with the police, but since he wasn’t trespassing, they didn’t do anything. Ike sprayed him with a hose once, so Barry slashed his tires, although it was never proven he did it. It all came to a head a few weeks before Barry was killed, and they got into a fistfight, which was quickly broken up by the restaurant staff.”
“So that’s why Picado is sweet on Ike being Barry’s killer,” Benny said.
“Yes, but it doesn’t make sense that he would drive down to Mariposa Beach, break into my store, or somehow confront Barry in my bookstore and kill him there when he could just go up to Barry’s cabin and do it there, since it’s secluded and hidden away.”
“I tend to agree. Doesn’t make sense,” Benny said.
“He told me he’s leaving Costa Rica until this blows over.”
“That won’t look good at all, and Picado will throw a fit,” Benny said.