Costa Rica Beach Cozy Mysteries Box Set: Books 1 to 3

by K C Ames

  “He’s gone from the five-star Tranquil Bay Resort and fancy meals and on to the rice, beans, and chayote diet in San Sebastián,” Doña Amada laughed.

  Dana shook her head. They could be lovely ladies, but also so cruel. Mean girls at eighty. Dana knew what diet she was talking about. It was the standard meal prisoners of the infamous San Sebastián prison were fed. San Sebastián was in San José, and it was the only prison that was used to hold those being held under preventive detention.

  The prison was not dedicated to hold just those under preventive detention; it was a regular prison, so someone like TJ, who hadn’t been charged with anything, could be in San Sebastián for months side by side with killers, drug dealers, and other violent criminals.

  The prison was overcrowded, with most inmates sleeping on a thin piece of foam rubber on a dirty concrete floor.

  Dana had to ask what chayote was the first time she heard about it. She learned it was a small, pear-shaped green tropical vegetable that was cheap to purchase and was available year-round. It was plentiful and cheap, a staple of prison meals, thus the chayote diet is what they called prison food.

  Dana didn’t like that kind of talk. For all any of them knew, TJ was innocent.

  “I don’t think it’s funny,” Dana said, wanting to throw them out of her bookstore slash café, but she knew the old ladies could be a handful, so she left before she said something she would regret.

  Dana left Amalfi in charge of the bookstore. She needed to clear her head, so she jumped into Big Red and drove out to Benny’s house.

  Even though Dana had insisted he should go back to the city so as to not hurt his law practice, he had insisted on sticking around and had stayed three days longer than he had intended. But he needed to get back to the city, for he was due in court the next day, and it would be his weekend with his daughter, so he had to pick her up. He was packing when Dana arrived.

  He offered her a soda, which she accepted as she told him about all the talk going on at the bookstore.

  She couldn’t get what was going on with TJ out of her head.

  “It seems unfair to have TJ in that horrible jail without even charging him for any sort of crime,” Dana said bitterly. She sounded bitter because she remembered back to when Detective Picado had threatened her with preventive detention during the investigation into her cousin’s murder.

  “I hate to say it, but the system is the system, nothing we can do about it.”

  “Can’t you help him?”

  “You know I don’t do criminal law. What he needs is a good criminal lawyer to represent him, not a real estate attorney like me.”

  Dana took another sip from the soda and sighed.

  She knew she was passively aggressively pouting, and she hated when she did that, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. When I get back to the city, I’ll make some calls to see who’s representing him, and maybe we can help him get a better lawyer.”

  Dana lit up and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, but it’s probably a moot point anyway, since I’m sure Russ Donnelly is helping TJ because it looks bad on him to have one of his crewmembers killing a cast member. And he has more money than every single person in Mariposa Beach will see in their lifetimes, combined. So I’m sure he’ll get him a top-notch attorney.”

  Dana wasn’t so sure about that, but she wanted to think positive.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I won’t get back to the city until this evening. I’m having dinner with my daughter, and I have to go to court tomorrow at ten, so I probably won’t be able to look into this right away, but I promise you I will as soon as I can.”

  Dana smiled. She knew he would. When he said he would do something, it was like money in the bank.

  They said their goodbyes, since she wouldn’t see him until the weekend. This was the part of the long-distance relationship that she hated.

  She was also nervous because Benny was bringing his daughter down for the weekend. The two of them got along well, but she was still nervous that she could turn at any moment and hate her like the horror stories she had heard from friends who had dated men with children.

  Benny got into his SUV and drove off towards the highway. Dana was driving Big Red, heading back to town. She stopped at Soda Linda, which was located off of Main Street, about half a mile away from the shops of Ark Row. Sodas in Costa Rica were small, open-air cafes that were located in just about every town in the country regardless of its size.

  It was where you experienced traditional Costa Rican food at its best.

  Soda Linda had a limited menu and limited seating, but the food was delicious. Aside from the traditional gallo pinto and casado, the no-frills soda also offered a mean four-cheese grilled sandwich and arreglados—a refried bean and ham sandwich with cheese, Salsa Lizano, and lettuce and tomato that was Dana’s favorite and what she ordered for lunch.

  The place reminded Dana of a ’50s American diner, with its long sit-down counter with direct service by the owner, Linda Orozco.

  The soda was a family business. Linda usually had one of her two sons or her daughter-in-law working there. Dana hadn’t met her husband, nor was he ever mentioned, so she assumed he was out of the picture, although she didn’t dare ask about such personal matters. She figured eventually either Linda would tell her about it or someone from the Gossip Brigade would do the honors.

  There were only nine stools on the other side of the counter, so during its busy time, you would have to order your food to go if you didn’t want to wait around for a spot to open at the counter. Since it was past two in the afternoon, there were plenty of spots. Dana sat down, putting her keys, sunglasses, and her Kindle on the counter.

  Linda greeted her warmly. Her son Oscar was working the grill; he waved before turning his attention back to the grill.

  “Did you hear they arrested that poor girl’s killer?” Linda asked her right away.

  Dana smiled. The town was abuzz with the news all right, and there was no escaping it.

  “It’s the hot topic over at the bookstore. The Gossip Brigade is debating several theories why he might have done it,” Dana said facetiously.

  “Figures they would be the first to know and to tell everyone about it by noon,” Linda said with a grin.

  “To be honest, I feel bad for the guy. I talked with him a couple times, and I know that doesn’t mean much, but he didn’t seem like a killer to me, and now he’s locked up in that horrible jail in San Sebastián without even being charged for anything yet.”

  “Well, the fiscal is working on it. I’m sure they wouldn’t have arrested him if they weren’t sure he did it.”

  Dana shrugged. Years ago, she used to sound that naïve about the justice system until her years working as a journalist opened her eyes to the fact that the judicial system failed and innocent people got locked up for years, even decades.

  Dana ordered lunch, an arreglado and mango juice.

  She was lost in thought as she waited. She had that feeling deep down inside that TJ didn’t kill Rose Budd. She wanted to find out if TJ really was the killer. But how?

  Twenty-Four

  After her late lunch, Dana returned to the bookstore just in time for the three o’clock p.m. caffeine rush.

  With the production crew still on idle and off the island, it was busier than usual for the time of the year. By five o’clock, things quieted back down again as they prepared to close for the day in about an hour.

  Dana was mulling over what to do about TJ. She could hear Benny and her best friend, Courtney, who was back in San Francisco, in her head, telling her it wasn’t her concern and to not get involved. But if she were locked up unjustly, she hoped someone would help her, or at the very least check in on her.

  “Everything okay, hon?” Mindy asked. That broke her out of her mini-trance. She realized she had been wiping down the same spot on the counter for a while.<
br />
  She blushed. “Yes, sorry, just lost in thought.”

  “I could tell you were far, far away from here,” Mindy said with a smile.

  The door chime trilled, and in walked Detective Gabriela Rojas. She smiled at her warmly. Dana smiled back, but she also felt her body getting tensed up, since usually when Rojas was around, that meant Picado was nearby. She looked around for him but was happy to not see him.

  Rojas ordered a skim latte and a fruit cup. She walked over to the bookstore side towards Dana.

  “Where’s your partner?” Dana asked as she got closer.

  “He’s at the Tranquil Bay Resort. We were interviewing witnesses. He’s still up there doing some paperwork. I had some downtime, so I came down here. Mr. Barca says we can eat and drink anything we want for free during the investigation, but that seems unethical to me, especially with his reputation for shady deals. Besides, it’s too ritzy and stuffy up there anyway, so here I am.”

  “Good choice. Hang out with us little people versus the hoity-toity ones,” Dana said, smiling.

  While Rojas waited for her order, Dana figured she would take the advantage of being able to talk with Rojas without having her surly partner there to tell her to butt out.

  “Word around town is that TJ was sent to San Sebastián prison under preventive detention,” Dana said quizzically.

  Rojas turned to look at her with her eyebrows arched.

  “It just goes to show that you shouldn’t believe everything you hear, especially from gossipy busybodies who don’t know what’s what.”

  “So he’s not at San Sebastián?” Dana said, sounding excited.

  “Not yet. He’s in one of the OIJ holding cells in Nicoya. The prosecutor has requested a three-month preventive detention, but it hasn’t been reviewed by the court, so until then, he’s in the holding cell, which is nothing like San Sebastián.”

  Dana felt relieved.

  “How long does that process take?”

  Rojas shrugged her shoulders as Mindy brought her coffee and fruit cup. Rojas thanked her as Mindy joined the conversation.

  “Days. Weeks. Depends,” she finally replied.

  “I know you can’t talk about the case much, but do you really think TJ Summers killed Rose Budd? Is the evidence that overwhelming to get him locked up?”

  Rojas fidgeted a bit. Dana could tell her question made her uncomfortable. She took a sip from her latte.

  “This is just between us,” Rojas said, looking at Dana then at Mindy.

  “Of course,” they both said in unison.

  “The case is strong. There was some DNA evidence that linked him to Ms. Budd, but he insists it’s because they were boyfriend and girlfriend. And that seems to be true from our interviews with other crewmembers, but Mr. Donnelly insists that’s not the case. So it’s premature to arrest him, but I’m not the lead investigator in this case, Detective Picado is, and he had him arrested, so that’s that.”

  “Do you think I could visit TJ?” Dana asked.

  Rojas and Mindy both gave her a side-eyed glance.

  “Why? You hardly know him,” Mindy asked.

  “I don’t know. I feel bad for him. I realize I don’t really know him from Adam, but I just can’t believe he could have killed her or anyone, really. I remember how scared I was when Picado was threatening me with preventive detention a few months ago. So I don’t know. I just want to visit him to let him know he hasn’t been forgotten by the outside world.”

  “You realize Detective Picado would hit the roof if you visit Mr. Summers,” Rojas said.

  It was Dana’s turn to shrug.

  “It’s not against the law, is it?”

  “No, it’s not against the law for you to see him. But he has to agree to see you.”

  “I might drive up to Nicoya, then,” Dana said.

  “Just remember this conversation is between us. Last thing I need is for Picado to think I encouraged you to go visit TJ,” Rojas said.

  “Don’t worry, mum’s the word.”

  Rojas smiled, took her coffee and fruit cup, and sat at a table by the window.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see him,” Mindy said, sounding concerned.

  “It will be fine. I’m also just curious about the judicial process here and seeing the OIJ offices. I guess my old reporter curiosity has kicked into high gear.”

  Dana got home at six thirty p.m. She knew Benny, Mindy, and oh, boy, her mother, and also her BFF Courtney back in the States would do a Captain Picard facepalm if they knew she was planning to visit TJ at the holding cell in Nicoya, but she didn’t care.

  She needed to get TJ’s side of the story and to find out if Russ Donnelly was helping him out of the jam he was in, because she did not believe he was the killer. So instead of relying on hearsay, town gossip, and innuendo, she would get her information right from the source first thing in the morning.

  Twenty-Five

  Nicoya was located about an hour north from Mariposa Beach. It was a city on the Nicoya Peninsula and the district seat of Nicoya cantón—county.

  It was one of the country’s most important tourist zones, serving as a transport hub to all the Guanacaste Province’s beaches and national parks. It was also home to the closest OIJ substation to Mariposa Beach.

  She left Casa Verde at eight o’clock a.m. and made the trip in an hour.

  Even though Nicoya was the biggest town in the district and it looked huge compared to tiny and sleepy Mariposa Beach, it was still small, with a population of around twenty-five thousand.

  She drove into town and to the OIJ police substation.

  She parked out in front and looked at it in disbelief. It didn’t look like the police stations she was used to back in the States. It looked like the property had been built as a residential home that was then converted to be a police station.

  The property had a cream-colored exterior and a red roof. A white iron fence surrounded the building, and there was a small plastic blue sign that hung out in front that was swaying in the wind. The signage said: Subdelegación Del OIJ—Substation of the OIJ—in a bright white font.

  She heard a rumbling in the sky and looked up. It seemed like Mother Nature must have been in agreement that it was a bad idea for her to be there, because just as she reached for the door handle to exit her Jeep, she unleashed a torrential downpour of biblical proportions.

  “Great,” Dana said out loud as she looked out the window. The sound of rain falling on the Jeep’s canvas soft top sounded like she was being pelted with rocks. She looked at her small umbrella and laughed. “A lot of help you’ll be,” she said to it as she dropped it onto the floor.

  She contemplated taking the omen and heading back home, but she was right there, so what the heck.

  She exited Big Red and made the mad dash inside.

  Although it took mere seconds to run from her vehicle to the OIJ station, she was drenched like she had just come out of a pool.

  She was trying to dry herself like a shaking dog when a uniformed policeman with Fuerza Publica, the uniformed National Police force, looked at her and smiled. He handed her some paper towels. She thanked him and began to pat herself dry as best as she could.

  “How can I help you?” the police officer asked while she was in mid pat.

  “I’m here to visit TJ Summers, who I’ve been told is being held here,” she said, still patting herself dry.

  The helpful officer’s smile turned to a frown right away.

  “One minute,” he said as he wandered off to the back of the station.

  A couple minutes later, the police officer returned with another uniformed cop and another one in civilian’s clothing, who Dana assumed was a detective.

  She was right. He introduced himself as Detective Granados. He didn’t share his first name with her, and he began to pepper her with questions right from the get-go. He asked her who she was, what was her relationship with the prisoner, and why she wanted to see him.

&
nbsp; Dana answered his questions. She told him she was a friend and just wanted to see how he was doing.

  The detective looked at her suspiciously for a moment then told her to wait in the lobby, which she did.

  The detective was gone for over ten minutes. She was worried that he was calling Picado, who would show up to yell at her and somehow prevent her from seeing TJ, but finally he returned by himself.

  “Mr. Summers will see you. Come with me.”

  Dana followed Detective Granados to the back of the station. There were a few desks, and a couple detectives were on their computers. She didn’t know how big the substation was, but if she had to guess, she would say there couldn’t be over ten detectives working there at one time. She wondered which of those desks belonged to Picado and Rojas.

  Granados brought her to a conference room and told her to sit and wait. She did as she was told and waited for fifteen minutes before finally the same uniformed police officer who had given her the paper towels to dry off walked in alongside TJ.

  TJ’s face lit up when he saw her. It surprised her to see that he wasn’t handcuffed, and he was wearing his own clothing. Unless the OIJ was issuing T-shirts with Gene Wilder as Young Frankenstein with It’s Alive in huge white font as its jail garb.

  She expected for him be in an orange jumpsuit in leg and waist chains.

  “Detective Granados has allowed for a ten-minute visit,” the police officer said as he left the conference room and closed the door.

  Dana had talked to TJ three times in her life, but he greeted her like they had been childhood friends or as if they were family.

  “Thank you for visiting. I’m trapped in a living nightmare,” he said as they both sat down at the table.

  “What happened?”

  “That Picado became convinced that I killed Rose, and he zeroed in on me and he was like a dog with a bone with me being the darn bone!”

  “What you told me and Benny that night on the beach when you were drunk, that was the truth, wasn’t it?”