Three-Day Weekends are Murder

by Rayna Morgan

  “Not yet, but he’s working on it. He came to pitch the partners about potential new investments.”

  Eric held his finger in the air to signal a cocktail waitress. “Why do you doubt that Wes might be a partner?”

  “He was never as smart as you,” Maddy observed. She turned to the waitress. “I’d like a martini, please, extra dry with a twist.”

  “That’s one thing I’ve always liked about you,” Eric said. “Never one to order an apple-tini or a foo-foo drink with an umbrella.”

  He pointed at his empty glass. “Bring me another bourbon”—he spun the diamond ring on his finger—"and two menus."

  After the waitress left, Maddy responded. “That’s one thing I never liked about you. You never stopped with one or two drinks. You always kept drinking until I had to drive us home or you came home later in a taxi.”

  He looked toward the floor like a boy being scolded. “I’ve cut way down on my drinking,” he insisted. “You’d hardly know me now.”

  “Good to hear.” Maddy shrugged. “If it’s true.”

  “But, hey,” Eric said, perking up. “That comment about me being smarter than Wes. It's the first compliment you've given me in a long time.”

  “Your brain has never been in question. Your morals are the issue.”

  “I assume you’re referring to my fling with Diana. If you had exercised some patience, you'd have seen me end that affair.”

  “Did you end it because she meant nothing to you, or because she got transferred to the Chicago office?”

  Eric shifted in his chair and stared toward the pier. “Not all of us have your self-control.”

  “That’s a cop-out!” she said, shaking a finger at him. “You know I’m far from perfect. I leave perfection to my sister. But I'd never hurt someone the way you hurt me to satisfy selfish appetites.”

  He sat upright. His features hardened and his eyes narrowed to slits. “You didn’t object to my first wife being hurt when I divorced her to be with you.”

  Maddy’s jaw dropped. Her voice trembled. “Don’t you dare suggest I encouraged you to leave your wife. In case you’ve forgotten, I was the one who ended our fling and told you to stop cheating on your wife and kids.”

  Heat crept up Maddy’s face as she gulped for air. “In fact, it could be the only reason you rekindled our relationship after your wife found out about our affair and left you.”

  Eric’s tone turned ugly. “What are you implying?”

  “You pursued me after your divorce because I was the only woman who ever turned you down.”

  She leaned over the table as she gathered steam. “You could never tolerate that in business either. If a prospective new client refused your services, you hounded them until they signed with you. If any broker disagreed with your investment strategy, you turned against them. You’re incapable of accepting failure or defeat.”

  Eric sat back and took a deep breath. “Give me a break," he pleaded. "You have to admit, we were always a good team.”

  “Dang it, Eric!” she shouted. Heads at the next table turned. Maddy lowered her voice. “We were never a team at all.”

  The waitress placed drinks and menus in front of them. Noting their expressions, she returned her pad to her apron. “I’ll give you a minute to decide.”

  A knowing smile darted across Eric’s face as he took a large gulp of his drink. “That won’t be necessary. I have a feeling the lady won’t be staying for dinner.”

  Maddy stood up and snatched her bag from the arm of the chair. “You’re better at reading my mind now than you were when we were married.”

  Maddy nearly ran over the waitress in her haste to leave.

  “It’s all right,” Eric called out. “I’ve got a briefcase full of work in my room.”

  The waitress looked flustered. “Do you want to order something to eat?”

  Maddy heard his reply as she weaved her way through the tables toward the exit.

  “Sure, why not? And bring me another bourbon.”

  * * *

  Maddy reached for her keys as she approached her car. A figure stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her arm.

  Wrapping her fingers around the mace canister on her key chain, she spun toward her assailant. She held the mace in front of her and took aim.

  The man dropped her arm and shielded his face. “Maddy, it’s me!”

  “Are you crazy, Wes!” she yelled.

  “Geez, lady,” he whined. “Put that thing away.”

  She dropped the mace in her purse. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you were on your way back to Los Angeles.”

  “I hung around in the lounge to see how things went with you and Eric. I was hoping for a shot at taking you to dinner.”

  “Well, you nearly got a shot of pepper spray.”

  His eyes darted down to her chest and back up to her lips. “Now that you and Eric have split, you’re back on the market, right?”

  “Market? You make me sound like a piece of meat.”

  “You know what I mean. You’re into the dating scene.”

  “I’m not available, if that’s what you’re asking.” She thrust her chin in the air. “And to you, never.”

  “It’s obvious Eric’s not over you leaving. I saw him trying to hit on you,”—Wes leaned toward her and put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him—“but I could tell he wouldn't score.”

  Maddy took a step back. “All Eric and I are trying to be is friends after our divorce. It’s called acting like adults. Something you should try.” She raised her hands to his chest. “Let’s not have a repeat of the last company party I attended, you big oaf.” She pushed hard enough to knock him off balance.

  He regained his footing. “Believe me; I don’t want that any more than you do.”

  “Good,” Maddy said. “Because if you remember—”

  “Forget about that. C’mon, baby. Give me a chance.”

  “When hell freezes over.”

  Tires squealed on the level above them. A car filled with rowdy teenagers came into view.

  Wes backed away from her. “Never mind,” he spat out. “I see you’re still on your high horse. I shouldn’t have wasted my time.”

  “And I see you’re still a jerk.”

  “I never saw what Eric saw in you,” he mumbled over his shoulder as he turned to leave.

  “And I’d say the firm doesn’t see much in you,"—she twirled the car keys around her finger— “or you'd be a partner by now.”

  He swung back to face her. His eyes were venomous as he hissed out a reply. “Did Eric fire off his big mouth? He loves to lord his partnership over me. Don’t worry. I’ll be partner by the end of next quarter.” He lowered his voice, conscious of a man with a briefcase walking in their direction. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  Maddy welcomed the presence of another person in the deserted parking structure. She circled Wes and hurried to her vehicle.

  She rolled down her window as she drove past him. “Good luck with that, hot shot.”

  * * *

  Maddy admonished herself as she slowed for a red light. Tears brimmed her eyes and blurred her vision.

  “This shows how wrong Lea can be,” Maddy told herself in the rearview mirror. “She thought this was an opportunity to show that Eric doesn’t affect me anymore. Ha! I proved the opposite. He still affects me, and it’s all bad.”

  With shaky fingers, she wiped away bitter tears. “No regrets. I have no regrets over leaving him.” She gave her head a shake. “But I wish we could have had a happier ending.” Squinting at her reflection, she asked, “How do stronger women manage past relationships so well? They treat their exes as pals.” Maddy tried to imagine her ex as a pal. She concluded with a sigh, “Eric and I need to work on being friends.”

  Except that he’s a no-good, cheating liar. I’d rather—

  A horn blared behind her. She flipped off the driver and slammed her foot on the gas ped
al. Tires squealed as Maddy continued her pep talk to the teary mess in the mirror.

  “Maybe I’ve never forgiven him for cheating.” She gave that statement a few seconds to sink in, then shrugged. “Or maybe he’s right, and I feel guilty for my part in breaking up his family.”

  She turned on the windshield wipers to sweep away the blowing sand and turned right at the lane leading to her cottage. “Eric hasn’t changed, but I have.” Maddy checked her reflection for signs of doubt. She smiled when none was present, and confidence grew in her wounded heart. “I’ve grown and become my own person. My relationship with Tom is so much better than the one I had with Eric.” A smile brightened her tear-stained face at the thought of Tom. She mentally compared the two men and concluded that a lieutenant in charge of the Homicide and Major Crimes Unit of the Buena Viaje Police Department was more exciting than a portfolio manager for an investment firm.

  She pulled into her driveway and turned off the engine. Her shoulders sagged as she rested her hands on the steering wheel.

  “What this chick needs is a glass of wine, a soak in a hot tub, and to put this behind me.” Closing heavy eyes, she rubbed her throbbing temples then reached for her phone.

  She sent her sister a text. ‘Meet with Eric a bust. Told you so.’

  Lea replied. ‘Come to concert. Eating now. Band at 7.’

  ‘I’m beat. In for the night.’

  With her phone tucked in her purse and keys in hand, she headed for the sanctuary of home. “I may not be able to treat Eric as a friend,” she whispered, “but it doesn’t matter. We’re living worlds apart now.”

  I won't have to deal with him again.

  Chapter Three

  Paul found the last empty parking space in the lot.

  “Looks like a sell-out!” Lea exclaimed. “I hoped it would be.”

  “Thanks to your brilliant advertising campaign,” Paul noted. “Does this mean you’ll be doing the marketing for the Adobe’s summer concert series?”

  “We’ll see. The city hasn’t awarded a contract yet. I hope this turn-out puts me at the top of the list.”

  Most people lined up at the entrance wore shorts or jeans. Some wore fringed shirts and cowboy boots.

  Paul got in line to buy tickets. Lea chatted with Francisco as he greeted visitors and complimented him on his eye-catching costume. He was dressed in a gray waistcoat, a stiff white shirt, and a black bow tie. A gold watch chain decorated his vest, and a manicured goatee and mustache topped the look.

  Lea joined Paul and leaned into his six-foot frame. They passed through the gate to the walled grounds of the Castillo Adobe.

  The two-story adobe built in the late 1800s was the main living quarters of a large ranch and home to the wealthy Castillo family. Don Castillo and his wife Consuela had fifteen children who lived in the house. The girls filled the bedrooms inside while the boys slept outside on the balcony or in the courtyard.

  After receiving the donation of the estate, the city renovated the adobe with its original furnishings into a museum to preserve the life-style of the early settlers. Weddings, concerts, and guided tours provided funding for maintenance and repairs.

  For this event, the grounds in front of the adobe were covered by a wood stage and portable dance floor. Card tables with folding chairs and white cloths filled the grassy area.

  Two vendors near the entrance displayed bottles of wine with a sign listing prices per glass or bottle.

  Paul put his sunglasses in his pocket and inhaled the mouth-watering aroma of barbecued beef. “I’m glad you talked me into paying for dinner,” he told Lea, “instead of bringing a picnic basket.”

  “Sampling the fare is the best way to describe what’s offered if I end up promoting other events.”

  Paul grabbed Lea’s hand. “When you do their promotions, not if,” he replied, flashing her a dimpled grin.

  He nodded toward a catering truck parked in the corner. “That’s the B-B-Q Heaven sign. It’s Tom’s favorite lunch spot. I guarantee the meat will fall off the bones.”

  Besides dating his sister-in-law, Tom Elliot was Paul’s best friend and fellow sports enthusiast. They got together for burgers and brew when their schedules permitted.

  Paul lined up for food while Lea found a place to sit. She’d barely settled in when the costumed figure approached.

  “I’m excited to see the necklace after reading the history of the jewel,” she said. “There will be time for a viewing before the music starts.”

  The man looked stricken. “The exhibit is closed, Señora. No one will see the famous necklace this weekend.”

  * * *

  Several moments after the man left, a voice behind Lea asked, “May we join you? It’s filling up fast.”

  Lea turned with a smile upon hearing the familiar voice. “Jan! I was hoping we’d see you.” She removed her purse and jacket from the chair beside her.

  “Bob came for the country music,” Jan told her as she draped her fringed jacket over the back of a chair. “I came to view the ruby and diamond necklace.”

  “Me, too, but I found out—”

  “Hey, neighbor.” Paul leaned between Lea and Jan. “I ran into your better half in line for grub.” He set a plate of chicken, garlic bread, and salad in front of his wife. “I told him to come to our table. You beat me to it.”

  A man with a bulge over his belt and a ruddy complexion joined them and laid two plates on the table. “I’ll get a bottle of wine. Red okay with you two?” Bob motioned between Paul and Lea.

  “Lea will want wine,” Paul said. “I’ll come with you and pick up beer. You going to show us your two-step later, buddy?”

  “You betcha.”

  The men walked off.

  Jan turned to Lea. “We almost missed getting a seat. We looked for someone in charge to ask why the exhibit closed and find out when it might reopen.”

  “Not soon from what the curator, Francisco, told me,” Lea informed her. “The necklace is gone.”

  “You’re kidding! You mean, as in lost?”

  “I mean as in stolen!”

  Jan unwrapped a set of plastic eating utensils and began to eat. “Give me all the juicy details.”

  “Francisco discovered the necklace was missing when he opened the building for the show. The police were here until the gates opened.”

  Jan wiped her lips and sat back. “How terrible!”

  “You mean how exciting,” Lea said. “Maybe the woman in blue took it.”

  The two women laughed as their husbands returned to the table.

  Bob poured the wine and took a chair, licking his lips as he picked up a fork. “What are you two giggling about?”

  Lea elbowed her neighbor. “Tell them the legend, Jan. It may serve as a warning if they don’t want us to haunt them.”

  “Legend is that Don Castillo’s wife, Consuela, who died in the house, haunts the Adobe. The children’s room, preserved exactly as it was when the family lived there, is also haunted.”

  Bob wiped barbecue sauce from his chin. “Haunted how?” he asked.

  “Don Castillo gave his children music boxes. Visitors hear the music boxes playing by themselves and dolls in the room have moved. A dozen witnesses spotted a young girl one night.”

  “And,” Lea added, “the giggling sounds of children are heard in that room.”

  Bob looked at Paul and winked. “Sounds like someone besides my wife has an overactive imagination.”

  “Tell them about the lady in blue,” Lea urged.

  “A lady in a dark blue dress is seen wandering through the second floor but when they check the rooms, no one is there. One witness saw her standing on the balcony. Others observed her walking the grounds. It’s believed to be Consuela herself, watching over her family’s home.”

  Paul glanced over his shoulder in mock fright. “You think she’s here tonight?”

  “Hold onto your wallet,” Bob snickered. “You know women, always after your money.”

&nbs
p; The men laughed.

  Bob leaned toward his wife. “Next, you’ll be telling us about buried treasure.”

  Jan swatted her husband’s shoulder. “No treasure except the ruby and diamond necklace supposed to be on exhibit tonight. It was authenticated as being the wedding gift Don Castillo gave his bride.”

  “At last,” Paul said, “something tangible. Let’s have a look at this jewel.”

  “We can’t,” Lea said. “I was telling—” She waved at the man she had spoken to earlier and he walked toward their table. “Wait. You can hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

  “Francisco, this is my husband, Paul,” she said, “and our neighbors, Jan and Bob, the biggest country music fans in town.” Bob tapped the brim of his cowboy hat and Lea continued. “Francisco is the curator of the Adobe museum. His grandfather Jorge was one of the family’s fifteen children.”

  Francisco bowed. “I’m pleased to meet you, folks.”

  “Fifteen children, huh?” Bob noted. “Thankfully, the days of having that many kids are over.”

  “I don’t know what my great-grandfather was thinking having so many children,” Francisco exclaimed.

  “It made more sense back then,” Paul said, pushing his plate back. “The sons helped take care of the ranch.”

  “And the daughters cooked and sewed,” Jan piped in.

  “Not like the kids today.” Francisco tugged on his bow tie and shook his head. “I have to yell at my twelve-year-old to shut off his computer to go play soccer.”

  “Tell Jan about the necklace,” Lea urged. “She’s as anxious as I am to see it.”

  “Lea says it was stolen.” Jan made a clucking sound. “Such a terrible thing for someone to do.”

  “Not so terrible, perhaps.” Francisco lowered his voice. “Maybe it’s been returned to its rightful owner.”

  Lea gasped. “Are you suggesting—”

  “I believe Consuela Castillo took the necklace.” Francisco twisted the ends of his mustache. “It is now back with its rightful owner. The woman for whom it was intended. The woman Don Castillo most deeply and truly loved.”

  * * *

  Lea pointed to a chair. “Sit down, Francisco.”

  He obeyed while Paul leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. Bob pushed his chair away from the table and lifted his glass of wine.