Murder on Masaya (Kea Wright Mysteries Book 3)

by RJ Corgan

  “Whatever for?” Carter could hardly imagine why Maria would be of interest to the Chinese government; he judged that she couldn’t be more than twenty years old.

  “Kids today,” was all Shona would say with a shake of her head. “Come along. Data waits for no woman. Or man.”

  “What is the data telling you?” Carter had seen Shona pouring over her laptop last night, her screen filled with spreadsheets and charts.

  “I only have an incomplete picture so far. I need more data. However, it appears that the magma chamber is re-routing upward. The faster that team gets out of there, the better.” Shona headed for the door.

  “I’ll be there in a second, just going to grab some more coffee.” Carter moved toward the stove. Once she left the room, he took out his phone and did a search on the Masaya project in the news. Chewing thoughtfully on a miswak twig to clean his teeth, he scanned the names of the expedition members, it occurred to him that while there had been thirty or more students in the university compound that the Policía Nacional had raided three years ago, it couldn’t be a coincidence that nearly every member of that team was one of those students.

  “WAKEY, WAKEY.”

  Although Francisco’s voice was only a whisper, it was far too loud for Kea’s aching ears.

  “Kea, it’s time to go.”

  “Piss off.” Kea flailed an arm uselessly at him, as if warding off a mosquito. “I’m starving.”

  “That’s a good sign, come on.”

  Francisco heaved Kea to her feet. She was dimly aware of him swinging an arm across her shoulders. As he helped her stagger through the dark, empty passageway, her brain started to finally wake up.

  I’m forgetting something.

  “Daniela …” Kea tried to speak, her lips thick and rubbery.

  “They’re prepping to raise her up the rockfall. Come on, we’re all heading out.” He grunted as she stumbled against him. “I’ve got a couple granola bars for ya’, but you have to make it to the base of the rockfall.”

  As she hobbled down the passageway, her head nodded drunkenly. Surprisingly, her legs functioned reasonably well, but she was completely drained of energy. The tendons around her ribcage and neck felt like they were on fire. When they reached the end of the passage, Kea leant against a boulder, insisting Francisco to keep going. Clearly not eager to stay in close contact to patient zero, he sprinted across the plaza to join the others at the base of the rockfall.

  She used the opportunity to down another energy drink. Thirst was also a good sign, she reminded herself. That, and not immediately puking it back up afterward.

  Across the open plaza, against the glare of Masaya’s naked heat, she saw shadows moving up the rockfall along the route marked by fresh green flares. In the air above the boulders, she discerned the slim lines that marked the assembly of cables stretching from one house-sized block to another, before collecting at the base of the rockfall. Daniela was being secured to the lines under the supervision of Simon and Luis. The other stretcher, that must have been carrying Josine, was already being lifted gently off the ground.

  The rig erected to raise the stretchers was similar in concept to the Tyrolean traverse, except upslope. Nodes were set between the boulders and the stretcher was pulled by a lead cable. Progress was slow, but measured; it would be some time before they were ready to raise Daniela.

  Kea tucked away her drink. Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, and she examined the rockfall from a distance. No doubt it had already been photographed in exquisite detail by Ling.

  Among the rubble, she looked for the area where the original support cables had been installed, the ones that would have secured Emilio. There was nothing but ash, smoke, and dust. Any of the equipment that had been there before was in Masaya’s belly.

  Kea marveled that more people hadn’t been killed.

  How could everything have gone wrong so quickly?

  The Wi-Fi had gone down before the rockfall had occurred, she recalled. If they got the sensors back online, would recordings on the hard drives have captured anything? She would have to ask Luis.

  She noticed Ling standing apart from the group, carefully watching over the wounded.

  Was she mentally composing a report that would end my career, Kea wondered, or was she looking for a motive for who might want to kill Emilio?

  That’s what I’d be doing.

  Not that Ling was short of options. A spoilt rich kid who supported the protestors? Most of the President’s men would no doubt be rubbing their hands together with glee at his death, Kea thought. Still, if they wanted to kill Emilio, the regime would have done something long before now.

  No, if it wasn’t an accident, then the evidence would point to someone with her at the base of the rockfall. Unless, of course, the two Canadian visiting professors presently buried under the rubble would have some spurious reason to try to kill someone they’ve never met.

  Keller and Adriana.

  Kea made herself recite their names. Her head had been too full of trauma and her body so weak that she hadn’t been able to process their deaths yet. She groaned at the thought of their loss, then groaned again at the act of groaning.

  I can’t even swear without cringing in pain.

  She pushed herself carefully away from the shelter of the boulder and walked across the plaza to join the group. While everyone’s eyes were fixed on the stretcher above, Kea knelt beside Daniela.

  “You look like something my cat threw up,” Daniela muttered.

  “I feel like I just threw up your cat,” Kea coughed a light gasping laugh. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than you look.”

  “If one can draw breath to insult, one is not dying,” Kea said with authority, as if it were a real quotation. She stared up at the assembly of ropes that snaked from boulder to boulder. “The rig they’ve got set up is pretty cool. It’s very Jules Verne meets the Hindenburg.”

  “I’m afraid to look.” Daniela turned her gaze to Kea. “How are you going to get up the rockfall? You look half-dead.”

  “The old-fashioned way, crawling on all fours like a baby.” Kea patted Daniela’s gloved hand. “We’ll get you out of here, I promise. This is all my fault.”

  “I doubt you have the power to control Masaya.”

  “Wouldn’t that be something?” Kea said wistfully, remembering the shadowy visage she had seen in the fumes.

  Simon stepped between them, double-checking Daniela’s straps. He looked up at Kea and motioned to the stretcher. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”

  “I’ll take my chances walking,” Kea said warily. Then, catching Daniela’s expression added. “I’m sure it is perfectly safe, but I’d prefer to be at ground level, should I need another bio break.”

  Despite Kea’s protestations, Simon insisted on examining her again. As he checked her temperature, Kea’s gaze followed Josine’s stretcher as it slowly moved its way up the rockfall. Dwarfed by the size of the boulders, Kea grimaced as clouds of toxic gas wafted over the stretcher, obscuring it from view.

  “I’ll be keeping an eye on Daniela.” Simon must have noticed Kea hovering protectively over the patient. “Lucky for you, someone volunteered to help you climb the rockslide.”

  Kea looked up to see Ling approaching. “Lucky me.” She turned her head and spat some cherry gunk onto the ground. “The day keeps getting better and better.”

  “Ready?” Ling asked. Since she was already helping Kea stand, the question was obviously rhetorical.

  Kea inadvertently let out a groan. “You volunteered for this?”

  “Yup.” Ling took a moment to adjust her arm around Kea’s shoulders, then together they started slowly up the path that wound its way through the rockfall. “How are you doing?”

  “Now that I’ve thrown up my stomach lining, just peachy.” Kea focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Her legs were still wobbly but felt better for the exercise.

  Kea allowed Ling to lead her
along the path, but all she really wanted to do was crawl behind a boulder and go to sleep for a week. Her attention wandered, watching the airborne stretcher as the team navigated it between the massive rocks.

  “Focus on your footsteps,” Ling reprimanded. “It might help you ignore the nausea.”

  Which, of course, made Kea’s stomach heave. “You might as well have said, ‘don’t look down,’ or ‘what could possibly go wrong?’”

  “I think we’re past that, don’t you?” Ling said, not unkindly. “Why don’t you tell me more about your team?”

  Kea could think of a million reasons not to tell Ling anything, not the least of which was because three of her team had just died horribly. Still, talking shifted her attention away from her traitorous intestines. “Anything in particular that you’d like to know more about?”

  Ling nodded at the pair at the front of the group.

  “Blanca and Francisco?” Kea blinked in surprise. She assumed Ling knew all about them. Or perhaps she did and this was some sort of test? “Good climbers. Some of the best. Almost as good as Emilio.”

  “And their families?”

  Kea forgot how seriously people took relations in this region, at least insofar as it related to El Presidente. “Well-to-do, although not as high up the chain as Emilio and Maria’s. They are, at least, currently in favor with You Know Who.”

  “Currently?” Ling prodded.

  Kea sighed. Was this what it was like to be interrogated by an amateur, she wondered? She had the sudden realization that this was probably how people felt when she went poking around, accusing them of murder. It was certainly different when the people being considered suspects were her own friends.

  Perhaps it’s surprising that more people haven’t tried to kill me.

  “Many of the students involved in the protests a few years ago were fairly well-connected, money-wise, to the higher families,” Kea said. “While the students, being mostly children, could, in some cases be forgiven, I get the impression many of the parents paid dearly for the humiliation. Or were frequently reminded of it when favors were due.”

  “But not Emilio?” Ling asked, as if leading a witness.

  “He paid in his own way, sadly,” Kea said. “But no, publicly, he was part of the deal struck between the protestors and the government. Although it could be argued that in the end, few concessions were actually given, it made great for publicity.”

  “Emilio’s wealth subsequently skyrocketed as well as his family’s, I’m guessing?”

  “I’m sure the President reminds them of that fact frequently.” Kea paused for breath. “It’s apparent that you already know this already. Do I need to keep talking?”

  “What about Emilio’s connection to those two?” Ling pressed, returning to Blanca and Francisco.

  “Connection?” Kea frowned, then guessed that Ling was simply seeking confirmation. Although reluctant to provide information about their personal arrangements, she assumed Ling was less curious about their activities between the sheets, and more interested in seeing if Kea would offer up the information. “Have you heard the expression, Lucky Pierre?”

  “That’s a bit crass.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re after with all these questions?” Kea snapped, exhaustion straining her patience. “The three of them were very close, but while Emilio was often a third, he had his own life outside of them.”

  “No reason to suspect jealously?”

  Kea paused. “You think one of them might have killed Emilio? Seriously?”

  Ling cocked her head. “They are uninjured, had motive, and perhaps had opportunity. Not to mention the business.”

  “Business?” Kea asked, genuinely puzzled.

  “The climbing company that Emilio started,” Ling said. “They had joint interests. With Emilio’s death, the company will belong entirely to Blanca and Francisco.”

  Stunned, Kea took a moment to process that. It had never occurred to her to think about his finances. In addition to the company, Emilio may also have left them a substantial amount of money. To Maria too, no doubt.

  She shook herself. “No. Ridiculous. What about the Canadians, Adriana and Keller? Maybe someone wanted to kill them? Why are you so focused on Emilio?”

  Ling said nothing.

  “We don’t even know if the rockfall was intentional,” Kea pointed out. “We’re in an incredibly unstable environment. It’s almost expected that something like this would happen. I refuse to entertain the thought that Blanca or Francisco would do such a thing to anyone, let alone Emilio. No one was closer than those three, no one.”

  “Interesting,” Ling said in a peculiar tone. “Well, that narrows down the list of possible suspects.”

  Kea had an unsettling suspicion that she had just put herself, or one of her other friends, closer to the top of Ling’s list. “Next you’ll be saying Daniela did it.”

  “Did it? A moment ago, you were insisting there was no ‘it.’”

  “Can we please focus on getting them out of here?”

  “They’re going to be fine.” Ling said calmly.

  “Of course, they’re going to be fine!” Kea wanted to scream. “They are professionals.”

  “It’s certainly an interesting group,” Ling observed. “I was curious about the decision to bring some of these people together.”

  Oh god, just leave it alone. “We’ve been together a long time.”

  “I’ve read their case files. They’re a unique combination. Particularly since the group consists of former malcontents cuddling up with the President’s star child, who is now dead.” Ling nodded. “Their relationship sounds … complicated.”

  Kea tensed, bracing her hand against the first boulder. “You’re one to talk.”

  “We are not complicated, Kea. You habitually form attachments greater than the situations, or people, call for. After reading too much into meaningless physical encounters, you are then resentful, even though the reaction doesn’t equate to the deed.”

  “Is that all? Oh goody. For a moment, I thought you were going to say it was my fault for falling in love with you.” She removed herself from Ling’s shoulders and placed both hands on a boulder. “Now, won’t you be a good psychologist and shut up so I can climb?”

  Quivering with rage, Kea fought to contain herself. Don’t give her anything, she thought. She turned her back on Ling and began the long, agonizing process of climbing out of the pit and away from the ever-burning fire of Masaya’s belly.

  Chapter 13

  DROPPING JACOB and Maria off at a lava tube, Shona consented to let Carter assist with the gravimetric survey.

  By assist, of course, she meant he could carry her bags.

  Still, Carter reflected, it was a beautiful day, and the survey was an opportunity to see more of the park.

  Plus, he thought, it’s not like I have anything else to do.

  Their journey took them along the northern base of the volcano, then across a lava flow that had topped the crater in the 17th century. Their path hugged the edge of its chaotic blocks and led them to San Pedro’s summit. Its dead crater lurked hundreds of feet down in the darkness. Carter looked across Nindiri to Santiago, wreathed in smoke.

  Somewhere down there, Kea and the team should be climbing their way out of danger.

  Or so he hoped.

  Shona remained silent during much of the journey, saving her energy for the climb. On level terrain, he struggled to match her pace, but on angled slopes she paused frequently to catch her breath, reminding him that Shona was nearly thirty years his senior. She hadn’t expanded on her story about Emilio and Maria, but to be perfectly honest, if she was going to launch into another tale, he preferred to wait till dinner. When there would be alcohol.

  It was only after they stopped for lunch that Shona became chatty, asking him about Bluefields Bay, about his travels in Africa, and about mammoths and meerkats. Carter got the impression that her questions weren’t out of any genuine interest, but rat
her it was a way to pass the time while she ate her protein bars and peanut butter cups. He imagined that after spending years in the field with hundreds of students, her attempts at conversation were simply reflexive.

  “You picked a great place to retire,” Carter said, hoping to deflect attention away from himself.

  Shona looked off into the distance, her eyes tracking one of the white horses that roamed Masaya’s slopes. She nodded back toward the town. “Did you get a chance to visit El Coyotepe?”

  Carter shook his head.

  “It’s a fortress that overlooks all Masaya. Somoza used it to imprison political prisoners.” Shona’s voice shifted down an octave. “They were tortured.”

  Even though she was recounting events from decades ago, Carter saw a shadow pass across her face. Her gaze shifted to the approaching storm clouds that loomed on the horizon.

  “From the stories I’ve heard, the rooms were packed full of people, but had no windows, no light at all. The torture chambers … such terrible things.” She broke off for a moment. “Then the Sandinistas came to power and put the guards into the cells. Prisoners became guards, guards became prisoners. The horrors were reversed, but still horrors.” Shona frowned. “The tides here can change so quickly.

  “So, yes,” Shona continued with a quick nod. “It is a nice place to retire, so long as you know everything can change at a moment’s notice and you plan accordingly.”

  “I should hope so, given that you live on top of a giant volcano.” Carter pointed to Santiago. “Does the team in the crater know that time is running out?”

  “Generally,” Shona said. “Prediction in volcanology is not an exact science, more a question of risk. Where they are working now is never low risk. They knew what they were getting into.” She squatted on the ground and took a reading with the gravitometer. “Maybe someday, with enough sensors and enough computing power, we’ll be able to get better at prediction. At the moment, it’s like guessing’s someone’s mood. You might understand when someone is stressed, but it’s hard to pinpoint when they’ll snap at you.”