by Valia Lind
I'm not sure what I was expecting of Walter Sanchez, but it wasn't the barely 40-something, six foot one, body builder type. When Victoria mentioned him before, I thought I'd seen him already. But I guess not, because this is the first time I'm laying eyes on him.
"Mr. Sanchez?" I say, coming up to where he's looking over papers on the counter near the burners.
"Walter is fine," he replies before glancing up and giving me a distracted smile. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so. My name is Cassandra Duke, I'm—" I was going to say one of the guests, but he would know that. "I'm the one who found Arthur Gilla. I was wondering if you had a moment to talk?"
He studies me for a moment. I'm not sure what he sees in my eyes, but he nods.
"Let's talk in here." He leads me back out into the dining hall, moving away from the busyness of the kitchen. "How can I help you Miss Duke?"
"Cassandra, please." I give him a small smile, reminding myself to go gently. "This whole situation has been so sad. I guess I'm just trying to make sense of who Arthur was when he was alive."
"I'm sorry you were the one who had to go through that," Walter says. Right away, I can tell there's genuine emotion there, not empty words. That's when I notice he also looks tired. "Arthur wasn't a bad man, I think he was simply a little lost."
"What do you mean by that?"
"He was always getting into these schemes, always looking for the next best thing, instead of focusing on the business he already had. I could understand that, since I went through a similar phase. But since coming here, that has changed."
"You really care about the resort." It's not a question, but Walter replies anyway.
"I do. My grandparents have spent their life rebuilding it, nearly from the ground up, and turning it into a place where families can feel safe. It's important I uphold that legacy, but I guess I didn't in this case."
Even though it's not his fault, I can see him taking the murder on personally. Well, granted, it might be his fault. I'm trying to stay unbiased here. It just doesn't feel right to put him on the suspect list. Not now that I’ve met him.
"I traveled a lot in my twenties." Walter continues as if I'm not even here. "I had to find myself. It's how I became a chef in the first place. I stayed with this elderly couple in Italy for a few months, and they taught me everything I know about food. When I finally felt like I had my feet under me, I came home."
"But not to take over the resort?"
His eyes fly up to meet mine, as if he just remembered I'm there.
"No, Lizette was already hired, running the place even before she arrived. I was barely allowed to do anything." I'm trying to pick up the underlying emotion in his words, but I can't quite place it. The information is slightly different from what I received from the guests. I wonder why that is. He rubs his hands together, and I notice how callused and strong they look. He’s someone who works hard.
"May I ask why?"
He sighs, running a hand over his hair as he watches the kitchen door for a moment.
"It had to do with money. Lizette brought a marketing plan to my grandparents which was going to take the resort to the next level. So, we made an agreement. She stays on for five years and implements her business plan. If I prove that I can work at the resort in the meantime, it goes to me at the end of it."
"How many people know about that deal?"
"Only those directly involved with management, Lizette, Priscilla, and myself, of course. Also, Helen, who's in charge of the marketing department for the resort and the reservations. And Arthur, I suppose. He was the on-sight groundskeeper, even when he wasn't here full time. It's funny actually. He was going to become full time when I took over. I wanted someone on the premises over the course of the year and to help out with some maintenance work."
"Arthur was going to get a full-time gig here?"
"Yes. I guess that's not happening now."
"Where was Arthur living while he was here?" I ask, knowing that my luck is probably running out when it comes to Walter. People only like to share so much.
"He stayed in one of the bungalows behind the pool house, near the gardens."
He says goodbye then, heading back to the kitchen. I did come away with one piece of information though. This place really is a tight knit community. So what did Arthur get into to get himself killed?
The storm is still raging outside two hours later. It's about a quarter past nine now. Some of the younger kids are already in their cots in the foyer and the ballroom. A hush has fallen over the whole building. Those who are still awake are keeping their voices down as parents whisper comforting words to their children. I haven't seen Birdie since she caught Dean and I—doing absolutely nothing! I refuse to go down that road.
"Where have you been?" Penny whispers when I find her, Finn, and Dean sitting in the corner of the foyer a little while later.
"Snooping around, I'm sure." The voice comes from behind me, and I turn to see Detective Ames making his way over to us.
"I've just been keeping busy, that's all," I say with a smile.
"I'm sure your busy and my busy are two different things," he replies. "Please tell me you haven't been doing anything that may compromise my investigation."
"Of course not, Detective. But if you're willing to share some information, I would be more than happy to make some suggestions."
Detective Ames gives me a thorough study, as if he's thinking it over. I nearly hold my breath. But of course, disappointment is the name of the game.
"Keep yourself safe, Miss Duke. I will see you in the morning." With that, he turns to walk away.
“Detective?” I call out, because I need to know something. He turns, waiting for me to ask. I take a step closer and lower my voice.
“Is Dean still a suspect?” Detective Ames watches me for a moment, because I know telling me is sharing parts of the investigation, when he already said he won’t. But then, he shakes his head, ever so slightly.
“No. Good night, Miss Duke.”
My heart feels lighter as he walks away, even though I don’t have the exact details.
"I can't tell if he actually wants to mentor you or just keep you on a leash," Finn says. I swivel toward him.
"What?"
"Come on, Cassie. You can't pretend you don't notice the special interest he has taken in you."
"It's not like that!" My whisper has risen a few octaves.
"Shhh." The sound comes from behind us, and I mouth sorry in the general direction.
"I didn't say it like it was a bad thing," Finn comments. "I sometimes think Sheriff Bernard would love to use your unusual set of skills, but he's too proud to ask. Detective Ames is definitely curious."
"Well, I did find the body, after all."
During this whole exchange, Dean has stayed completely silent. I have refused to look in his direction. Penny has been eyeing the two of us like she's watching one of her favorite K-dramas. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was an empath witch because she can always pick up on whatever is getting put out there.
The thing is, I should probably lay down and go to sleep. But I'm too restless, and there's one place I would love to check out while everyone is huddled in the main house. Since I promised nearly everyone in my life not to do dangerous things alone, I need a backup.
"Penny, can I borrow you for a second?" She stands way too eagerly, and now, I can feel Dean's gaze on me like a physical imprint. He's basically ready to stand and follow me wherever I go at this point, if only to keep me out of trouble. But I can't deal with myself when I'm around him, so that's not going to work.
"Cassie, what are you up to?" His voice reaches me as Penny and I turn to go. If I ignore him, he'll just come after us. So I make myself turn to face him.
"I need to check on something, and I need you guys to cover for us." I glance between him and Finn. Neither of the guys like that I'm leaving them behind, I can tell that much with a single look.
"Cassie—"<
br />
"Please," I interrupt, before Dean can launch into any kind of speech. His brother is just as ready to rush after me. While I love the fact that I have two strong men on my side, I think better when I'm not around them. Well, not around Dean. I really need to stop digressing.
"We'll be fine. We won't go far. Trust me." I give them each a long hard look, and only after each of them nods do I grab Penny's hand and pull her into the shadows with me.
"What are you up to, Cassie?" Penny leans over to whisper as quietly as she can. The hallways are mostly deserted, but I'm not taking any chances. Detective Ames is clearly watching me a little more closely than I thought. I take out my phone and pull up the picture I took earlier of the floor plan. Scrolling through, I know when I’ve found exactly what I'm looking for.
"Here." I show it to Penny.
"We're going outside?" she mock-whispers, and I hush her.
"Yes. I need to get to the bungalow at the back of the pool house. The storage area behind the kitchens has a door to the pool house. And that will take us outside."
"Cassie, if you haven't noticed, there are hurricane-like winds outside. It's not that I don't want to help, but isn't that dangerous?"
"It is. I won't make you go outside. You can stay in the pool house and keep an eye out."
"Really? As if I'm actually going to send you into a storm alone?" She huffs, shaking her head. "I'm still going, I'm just pointing out the obvious. As in danger, Will Robinson."
I smile. I can't help it. She may be small, but she's mighty. I couldn't have asked for a better best friend.
"If I can get to Arthur's place, I might be able to find something that will make sense of this whole mess. Or maybe I can find something that will jog his memory if he ever ends up in my dreams again. I don't know, Penny. I feel like I keep getting all this information and it's not fitting in anywhere. I need to do something."
"Don't you think the detective has already searched the place?"
"I'm sure he has," I reply as we begin walking again. "But I need to see it with my own eyes. I wish I could get Auntie Grace on the phone for a spell or something, but I've had no bars all night."
"Same here. It's probably the storm."
It is. But how convenient is it that Mother Nature decided to bring a storm right when a murder investigation is going on? If I didn't know any better, I'd think another witch was making this happen. Just as the thought enters my mind, I nearly stop in my tracks. Why haven't I thought of that before? Maybe because I'm still so new at coming to terms with my own magic, but it didn't even occur to me before. While I can't know for sure if there are other witches present, I think it would be wise if I was extra careful from now on. Another item to add to my list of how to be a good amateur detective. I have to keep considering all my options, even if they involve magic.
15
We slip through the kitchens and the back storage area without any problems. People are simply too exhausted and preoccupied to pay us any mind. That is great for us, but also a little concerning. If anyone was going to do anything sneaky or suspicious, now would be the time.
Okay, my brain needs to chill with the conspiracy theories before I give myself an ulcer.
“I have to say, the storm is way scarier in here,” Penny says as soon as we step into the pool house. I agree with her immediately. The glass roof is not exactly hurricane proof, and the dark clouds that hang low seem like they're laying right on top of it.
“It's holding so far, so let's just hurry,” I say, hoping my faith in this building structure is not misplaced. I'd send Penny back inside in a second, but I know she won't leave my side.
"Just distract me, somehow," Penny says as we make our way around the chairs, staying far from the pool itself. There are no lights in here, just the occasional lighting. My phone's flashlight is the only guidance we have. I'm slightly thankful for the storm because I know no one is outside walking the perimeter and would be able to see it.
"Have you seen Birdie at all?" I ask.
"No. I hope she's okay. The storm must be scary for her too. Oh." Penny grabs my arm suddenly. "You don't think she went back to Monroe Cove and got caught in the storm, do you?"
"Don't worry. She was just banging on the closet door Dean and I were hiding in."
I know the moment the words leave my mouth I have made a mistake.
"I knew it!" Penny slaps me on the arm, and I shine my light in her face for a second.
"What was that for?" I grumble as she pushes the light down.
"For keeping things from me. I could feel the tension between the two of you. I could see it. A blind person could see it! What happened? Tell me, tell me."
"Okay, first of all, don't hit me again. Second of all, nothing happened."
"What do you mean nothing happened? Why is your face so red then?"
"There is no way you can tell my face is red in this darkness!"
"I don't have to see it to know it is!"
We're whisper-arguing now, and we have reached the outer door. I place my hand on the doorknob and unlock the deadbolt on top.
"Cassandra Duke, we are not going out there into our near death until you tell me what happened!" Penny is standing so close to me I can feel her body vibrating in excitement. I think it over for a second before I blurt out the truth.
"We almost kissed." And then I push the door open, and the wind nearly takes it off its hinges. Penny grabs onto me, and we step out into the crazy weather. My long red hair whips around us, slamming into my face painfully. I really should've put it into a braid before I came out here, but it's too late now.
"Do you know where we're going?" Penny shouts. That's the only way I can hear her over the roar of the storm. At least there's no rain right now. But I know all about these storms, and the rainfall comes suddenly and randomly.
"Come on!" I take her hand and lead us to the left where the map showed a path. The gardens are spread out all around the resort's grounds, but I'm hoping since Walter said Arthur was at the back of the pool house, this is the right direction. It's also the same direction Dean would've been walking from that night.
Once we're between the trees, the wind quiets a little, and I breathe in a sigh of relief. We follow the small path on the ground. In the next minute, we're in a small clearing with two bungalows. They're identical to the one Penny and I are staying in and both dark.
"Do we know which one?" Penny asks. We come closer, and I study the two buildings.
"The one with the yellow tape?" I point to the scrap of tape barely hanging on to part of the doorframe. We step over to the door. I can see that it's been sealed off, but the storm has ripped most of the tape away. I try the door, but it's locked. Once again, I'm grateful I've been practicing my magic. Sending a little bit of intention into it, I breathe in and out, and the door clicks open.
"Such a cool trick," Penny whispers over my shoulder. I grin as I push the door open. Just as we step inside, the rain comes. Shutting the door behind us, I give the room a quick scan with the flashlight.
"Do we turn the light on?" Penny asks. I think about it for a moment before walking over to the light switch and flipping it on. Just like in our bungalow, only the bedside lamp switches on. The rest of the lamps need to be turned on manually.
The room is nearly identical to ours, except it only has one bed. The rest is basically the same, right down to the generic sheets and comforter and almost no personal items.
"You said Arthur lived here? Did the police take all his stuff?"
Penny and I begin moving through the room. She reaches for the dresser, and I stop her.
"Use your shirt if you need to touch anything. Just in case."
I'm sure this has already been processed, but I don't want to take any chances.
"And to answer your question, yes, he lived here. Maybe he packed light because of his short stay?" I open the closet and find clothes still hanging, so I know the police didn't take his stuff. "The only thing I can see them
taking is his computer or planner or journal, if he kept one."
"So, what are we looking for then?"
"I'm not sure, Penny." I sigh, because I really am not. Everything I've been doing, I've been doing on instinct. If I had more experience, like the detective, maybe I would be able to see things differently. But I just know that I needed to come in here for...something.
"I don't think I'm good at this sleuthing stuff, Penny," I say, turning to where my best friend stands on the other side of the room. She looks up at me, a question in her eyes. "I've been trying to read books and learn because I keep getting put into these situations. But I'm not like the cool mystery solvers on TV. I don't automatically just know what to do or say. Or what questions to ask. I talked to Walter today."
"Walter?"
"The cook. The Sanchez's grandson. I'm sure there were a dozen questions I could've asked him that I didn't. I just didn't know what I was looking for. Just like now. I made you go out into the storm, and I've got no direction."
"Isn't that how we all start out? Do you think when I started baking I knew how to make your favorite cheesecake or the danishes that are so popular in Monroe Cove? I didn't. I made a lot of mistakes, and I tweaked it until it was my own. I think maybe that's what you're doing. You're figuring out your footing. With magic, with being home again, and with this. As humans, I think we're all trying to figure things out. You're doing the best you can and that's all you can do."
I let her words settle in my heart because they're exactly what I need to hear. It's so easy for me to be hard on myself or to feel like a failure when things aren't going exactly according to plan. And let's be honest, since my whole magical fiasco with my last boss, nothing has been going according to plan. But I am trying. And I'm going to keep trying until I figure it out.
"Plus, you have that hot handyman that you almost kissed—don't think I've forgotten about that particular bomb. I'll get the whole story, even if I have to torture it out of you. Or bribe you with my raspberry cheesecake."