by A J Rivers
“Did you find out anything from the housekeeper?” I ask.
“There wasn't a lot to find out, honestly,” Bellamy replies. “She told me she has always dreamed of traveling the world and seeing exciting new places. She grew up in some tiny little town in Texas and thought she was never going to get out of it, but when she heard about the opportunity to work here, it sounded incredible. They were offering good pay, benefits, and a ton of perks. They told her they would make sure her family was taken care of, offered her room and board, the whole thing.”
“Just like Graciela,” I reply. “That sounds exactly like what she told me.”
“I'm guessing if you spoke to everybody on staff here, you'd find that story being told quite a bit. Working on an island resort isn't exactly the type of job people take lightly. They live here on the island without their families or friends, so it takes a type of person who really wants an adventure to accept a position like this,” she says.
“Or someone who desperately needs the opportunity,” I muse. “Did you ask her about taking leave? Did she say anything about when she got time off or for how long?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “She told me she only just started working here a couple of days ago, so she hasn't heard anything about time off.”
“She just started working here? So, she was probably in the group who was being shown around when I spoke with Alonso and Frederick earlier.”
“I doubt it,” Bellamy says. “You said they were being trained. She came by my room last night when I requested an extra pillow and then was back this morning. I don't think they would let somebody brand new work by herself before she even went through training.”
“You're right,” I say. “That doesn't make any sense. Of course, none of this does. Oh, I can't believe I didn't tell you this. I mentioned the boat that I saw to Alonso.”
“What boat?” Bellamy asks.
“When we went on the cliff, and I pointed out that boat. I mentioned it to him, and he said he had no idea what I was talking about. There isn't anything like that at the resort, and he can't imagine why there would be anyone out near those rocks.”
“That's interesting,” she says.
“I thought so, too.” We are well past the lobby at this point. Ahead of me, I see the brick path veer and a sign marked ‘Staff Only’ posted near the fork. I nod at it. “We're getting close. Remember, we're not supposed to be here, so we need to be discreet.”
"This is so Dirty Dancing," Bellamy whispers. "Sneaking into the staff only area to see what we can find."
"Yeah," I mutter bitterly. "Nobody puts Baby in a corner, but somebody put Baby in the deep end."
She gives me the side-eye.
"Damn, Emma. You can't even give me ten seconds of Swayze fantasy?"
"You can have your fantasy when I know what happened to Rosa."
She turns to look at me more fully.
"You really believe she was murdered," she says.
"Do you think I would go through all this if I didn't? Graciela lied to me, and Emmanuel looked terrified when he talked to me. The second Alonso got over his shock, he all but told the police to wrap Rosa up and toss her out with the recycling as long as he could get the pool back open before it got too hot in the afternoon. This isn't normal, B. I know we’re on vacation but put on your FBI hat for just a minute. Think about it logically. Something happened, maybe several things that people don't want anybody to know about."
"Which means you need to know."
"Someone needs to."
We continue down the path and slip past another staff only sign. A tall wooden fence rises up on either side of the path, blocking our view.
"The gate is open," Bellamy whispers.
A wooden gate hangs loose; the latch tucked back as if it's rarely locked into place.
"They're probably not very worried about this area being secure," I point out. "Most guests aren't going to be interested in going to the staff quarters. And if I'm right, the ones who do aren't going to get any resistance."
"The only question is, why do they want to?" Bellamy says.
"Exactly."
We exchange glances, confirming with each other we're going to keep going. This would be the moment when we could turn back. We could say we went to the staff village, which was our intention, to begin with. But that's not enough. Seeing it from afar doesn't tell me anything. I need to know what's in there that might have been enough to kill for.
Beyond the fence, the path forks and widens. The same trees and flower-studded vines that create the lush backdrop of the main grounds of the resort thrive here. Without the restrictions and tight control of the manicured landscaping, they are even more beautiful. The fragrance from the night-blooming flowers is almost dizzying and mesmerizing. It's too stunning here for the ugliness I worry is simmering just beneath the surface.
We move down the path to the right. We don't have to go far to see the dorm buildings ahead of us. We then turn and make our way down the other side of the fork until we see rows of small cabins built of dark wood and topped with curved tile roofs. A rustle of voices behind us sends a shock of energy up my spine. I grab onto Bellamy, pulling her into the trees.
From where we’re crouched, we see two of the housekeepers scurrying up the path. They've changed out of their uniforms for the day but are each carrying a covered tray.
"Room service?" Bellamy whispers.
"I don't think that off-duty housekeepers are bringing room service to other employees," I tell her.
The women pass, and almost immediately after them follows the man who brought Eric's luggage to his room. It would be too loud for us to move through the growth to follow them, so we have to wait until they've passed before we can go back onto the path.
Staying close to the shadows under trees, we follow the few yards it takes for us to see one of the girls climb up onto the porch of a cabin. She takes a key from her pocket and turns it in the lock, then disappears inside. The other housekeeper repeats the process in the next cabin over while the man stands outside, positioned between the two, and stares.
A few minutes later, the first of the housekeepers come back out of the cabin. Her tray is now empty and hanging from her hand by her side. She walks up to the man and hands him a roll of cash. I glance over at Bellamy.
"Someone is paying a lot of money for whatever they have on those trays."
"Drugs?" she asks.
"I don't think it was a burger and fries."
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Look," Bellamy hisses, grabbing my wrist and nodding toward one of the cabins.
Another of the attendants who helped us with our luggage steps out, along with another I recognize as walking with the group Frederick was showing around the resort. They are only paying attention to each other, talking closely and gesturing as they come down the short set of steps to the porch.
Hoping she will follow me without me having to say anything, I dart across the brick path and into the shadows between two of the other cabins. We press against the side of the building and inch around the back and into the space between the next two. This allows me to lean around and peer between the spots on the side of the porch to where the two men are.
I expected them to come down the path back in the direction where we walked up. Instead, they turn in the other direction. The housekeeper who came out of the cabin first walks behind them, none of them seeming to care that the other one never came out of the cabin she entered. They walk past the last two cabins visible along the path, then turn a corner that brings them deeper into the low-hanging trees.
I wait for a few seconds, then run back to the area behind the cabins. It's open without any fences or other barriers to divide the land into yards or private space. That makes it easy to run behind them, but it also means at any second someone could come out of one of the back doors and see us.
If it gets us any closer to getting our questions answered, the risk is worth it.
The row of cabins
goes further than I thought it would. The size of the dorm building makes it look as if it could house quite a number of people, so I didn't think they would need many cabins. But as we continue along the row, we find more than a dozen more cabins dotted along the curved path. At the end of the row, the last cabin sits right up against the darkening rainforest growth.
Bellamy and I carefully move between the two cabins to go out onto the path, looking around to make sure no one notices we're there. With the apparent size of the staff, it's entirely possible anyone who did happen to see us wouldn't be able to immediately tell we didn't work there. But I don't want to take that chance.
The path is empty in front of us. Faint pools of light from small lights in the path illuminate our way. It gives us just enough visibility to see what's ahead of us and make our way down the path without tripping. But it’s dark, and there are shadows, and the wind is moving in off the shore. I can smell the ocean air.
The path continues to curve around in a lazy oval until several yards ahead the trees open out, and I see the glint of the dorm building in the moonlight.
Bellamy and I step into the shadows again and ease closer. The two men and the woman aren't visible anymore, but when we get close to the end of the path, I see a large black van parked close to the side of the building. The back hatch is open, but there's no one near it.
"I want to see what's inside," I tell her.
"Emma, no. Someone is going to see you."
"Not if I move fast enough. And if they do, I'll just tell them I'm lost. They've believed everything else I've fed to them."
I take off toward the van and hear Bellamy mutter a profanity behind me before she runs to catch up with me. We get to the van and crouch down behind it, staying there for a few beats until we're confident no one has seen us. Moving around to the back, I peer around into the inside.
"Empty," I curse under my breath, then look at Bellamy. "No seats, nothing."
"A delivery?" Bellamy asks. "This late?"
I shake my head slowly, shrugging.
"I don't know."
A door on the side of the building opens. We scurry back behind the van before diving out of view into the shadows. I hear two men's voices.
"How many?"
"Five."
"That's too many. It will be noticed."
"No. I have that covered. It's what they want."
"What about the special request?" a woman's voice surprises me.
"Got it."
"Perfect."
"Come on," I whisper to Bellamy, tugging on her arm. "We need to get out of here."
We run down the path until we get to the cabins, and then follow the same route we took behind the buildings. I feel like I don't take a breath until we're beyond the wooden fence of the village and past the ‘Staff Only’ sign.
"What the hell is going on in there?" Bellamy asks.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think it's advertised in the resort brochure."
"Did you recognize the voices?"
"No," I shake my head. "The men who carried our luggage didn't say anything to me, so I don't know if that was them. I'm assuming it was, but I can't be sure. That woman's voice, though. I feel like I've heard it. She wasn't talking loudly enough for me to be sure, but it sounded almost familiar. Maybe one of the guests."
"Why would a resort guest be in there with them?" she asks.
"I don't know."
We walk in silence until we get back to the guest building.
"What are you doing now?" Bellamy asks.
"Going up to my room. I need to try to get all this straight in my head. I'll give you a call in the morning."
"Okay."
We part ways in the hall, and I head to my room. When I step inside, I notice a piece of folded paper on the floor, like it was slipped under the door. It's folded in half hastily, and the printing looks like one of the menus delivered every morning. But when I pick it up, I see writing inside.
‘He didn't hire her. Room #502. Tomorrow. E.V.’
As soon as I read the note, I burst out of my room and rush to Bellamy's. Her eyes are wide when she answers my series of rapid-fire knocks.
“What's wrong?” she asked.
I push past her into her room and hold the note out to her.
“This was sitting on my floor when I got into my room,” I tell her.
She reads the note, then lifts her eyes to me.
“E.V.?” she asks.
“Emmanuel Vargas,” I explain. “The man we saw with Rosa and who I know I saw talking to Graciela.”
“What does it mean he didn't hire her?” she asks.
I shake my head, starting to pace again.
“I don't know. But he's trying to tell me something.”
“Are you going to wait until tomorrow to talk to him?” she asked.
“I don't want to. But if he is specifically saying to come tomorrow, there's a reason. We both saw him with Rosa, and now she's dead. I don't want to cause him any danger.”
I pace for another few seconds. “Damn it. What does he mean? He didn't hire her. I'm assuming he's talking about Rosa, but who is 'he'?” A thought snaps into my mind. “Alonso told me if I knew anybody who might want to work here, to get in touch with him. Maybe he handles all the hiring?”
“It's possible,” Bellamy nods.
“I have a feeling he's not going to tell me anything,” I say. “But Constance might. She gave me his card when I asked for his contact information. Maybe she knows who handles all the hiring around here.”
“I doubt she's still working this late,” Bellamy says. “You'll have to wait until morning to talk to her.”
“There has to be someone down there at the desk. Who else is going to take care of whatever the guests need?"
I can hear the bitterness in my own voice, and Bellamy lets out a breath. She knows she can't stop me.
The door opens before I can leave, and Eric comes in. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees me.
“Hey,” he says. “I didn't expect to see you in here.”
“Clearly,” I say, my eyes are dropping down to the key in his hands. “Just coming by to check on Bellamy?”
They exchange glances, but neither of them offers any information. I decide not to push it. There isn't time to listen to them dance around whatever they're avoiding telling me. Eventually they’ll tell me what's going on between them.
"How was your afternoon?" Bellamy interjects, quickly rerouting the conversation.
"Actually, it was a little strange," he says, coming further into the room.
His movement toward the small refrigerator to the side is familiar, and when he opens the door, I can't help but notice bottles of his favorite beer inside.
"What do you mean strange?" she asks.
Eric crosses the room and drops down onto one of the chairs in the seating area. He grabs a bottle opener from the table in front of him and cracks his bottle open.
"The guy I met at the bar, Luke, has been here a bunch of times. He acts like it's his own personal summer home. When he talked about it, he called it a spa, but that's not exactly what it was. When we got there, a guy brought us into a lounge area and gave us menus of the different services they offer. Facials, massages, hot shaves, that sort of thing. Luke told me he always gets a hot shave and a foot rub and likes to order a cigar to have during it. I figured it was vacation, so I'd go for it and told him I'd do the same thing. Then he asked if I wanted any kind of enhancement for my cigar."
"Enhancement?" I raise an eyebrow.
Eric takes a sip of his beer and nods.
"My same reaction. He said to tell them I was feeling tired and wanted to enjoy more of the resort's amenities, so I needed some energy. He wouldn't explain what he meant but just kept saying the resort makes sure every experience is the best it can be. We both got called back, and the woman who came in to do my foot rub asked if there was anything else I wanted. I asked about the enhancements, and she asked who recommend
ed them. I told her Luke, and she asked if he told me what to ask for. I told her what he said about the energy, and she asked if he said anything else. I told her no, and she just offered me a couple of different types of cigars."
"That's it?" I ask.
Eric nods, and Bellamy looks at me questioningly.
"What's wrong with that?" she asks.
"Different brands of cigars are different in their flavor, but there aren't any designed to give you energy. They were offering Eric drugs."
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Then why didn't they say that?” Bellamy asks. “Why didn't they actually offer them to him?”
“Because he didn't say the right things?” I say. “She was probably looking for specific words. Eric didn’t know whatever code to ask for. Probably helps them to keep a wall of plausible deniability. Only people who know the right thing to ask for are given whatever… ‘enhancements’ they have on offer.”
“Everybody here knows Eric is in the FBI,” Bellamy points out. “Why in the hell would somebody offer an FBI agent drugs?”
“Luke checked in after the body was found,” Eric says. “He might not know. And if he does, it could be a test. Whoever is funneling the drugs into the resort could be testing the people working in the spa. They want to make sure that they are using the right words.”
"That's a risky game," Bellamy notes.
"I don't think it was a game," Eric tells us. "If they were going to test the staff, they'd choose literally anyone else."
"Could Luke have something to do with the resort other than just being a frequent flier guest?" I ask.
"What are you thinking?" Eric asks.
"You say he checked in after the murder happened, so he wasn't around to hear you are FBI. But just because he wasn't here doesn't mean he wouldn't hear about it. You said he comes here all the time. That's something I heard from Constance up at the front desk, too. People come back here over and over because they love the atmosphere so much. There are probably several other guests here who have overlapped his stays. They're friends. You don't think as soon as he showed up, they wouldn't fill him in on a woman found floating around dead in the pool and a swarm of FBI agents swooping down? That's going to be the first thing he hears from the guys sprawled around the newly reopened pool. 'Here's a cocktail, did you hear about the dead chick?'"