by Carrie Doyle
“Perhaps they had friends over before this happened.”
“Perhaps,” conceded Plum. She stepped out of the tub, her long legs glistening with water, and slid her feet back into her shoes. She glanced up and saw Juan Kevin staring at her legs. She was instantly self-conscious about their chalky-white appearance. She mentally put purchasing self-tanner on her to-do list.
“But you think it is somehow connected?” asked Juan Kevin.
“My problem is this doesn’t make any sense. There was a guy claiming to be Nicholas Macpherson, and then Nicholas Macpherson ends up dead? At the very least, that should be cause for alarm. But the police don’t seem interested in thinking this is anything other than an accident.”
“Miss Lockhart, I think what you say has value. But you’re new to the island and don’t yet understand the nuances. Unfortunately, in the travel and resort community, anything suspicious is bad for business.”
“What will happen? It’ll get brushed under the rug?”
Juan Kevin studied her carefully. “There’s a saying here in Paraiso that it’s best to let sleeping pigs lie.”
“We have that saying also, but it’s with dogs.”
“Why would you let sleeping dogs lie?” asked Juan Kevin.
“I don’t know. But why would you let sleeping pigs lie?”
They paused, musing over the weird idioms until Juan Kevin continued, “Look, I love my island and my people, but sadly sometimes those in government or power make choices I do not necessarily agree with.”
“Are you saying you think this might be murder?”
“I’m not saying any such thing. Because it doesn’t matter what I say. Everyone involved will want this declared an accident. At the end of the day, Paraiso relies on tourists. We need them more than they need us. And if we endanger that relationship, they will not return. Captain Diaz may want justice, but he knows foreigners can make that difficult to attain.”
He gave her a disapproving look, as if including her in that group, and it gave Plum pause. She gazed at the empty spot where the victim’s body had so recently lain in repose. She felt as if the world were dividing, and she had to make an ethical choice. The truth or her career. And then she thought, Hell, what career? It was always better to be on the side of lawfulness. Plum was a rule follower. She would make the honorable decision.
“As the representative that brought these men to the island, I think it is my responsibility to find out what happened,” said Plum with conviction.
A small smile formed on Juan Kevin’s face. “Even if it means putting your travel business in jeopardy?”
“I am a moral person,” Plum announced, not quite sure that was true. “I must do the right thing.”
He nodded, looking both pleased and surprised. “Then I’ll help you.”
***
“Captain Diaz!” said Plum, breathless from running to the front yard. She had thought herself fit (for no particular reason at all), but the humidity on the island sapped her energy. She also realized she had not been doing as much walking as she did in New York and would have to make an effort in order to stay in shape.
The captain was watching the EMTs load the body into the ambulance. He turned and gave her an unfriendly look.
“I know you don’t want a scandal, but I think we need to look into this death further. I’m not sure it was an accident. We owe it to the victim’s family to investigate.”
Captain Diaz’s nostrils flared, but he replied with studied courtesy.
“Señorita, I always follow protocol. This death will be scrutinized. There will be an autopsy.”
“Good,” said Plum with relief. “Then you also suspect it may be murder?”
His tone became stern. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you plan on conducting an investigation, right?”
“I did not say that either.”
“Then what are you going to do?” demanded Plum. She folded her arms crossly.
He stared at her long enough to test her patience. Finally, he spoke. “Señorita, you are a villa broker. I am sure you do your job well. And now I will appreciate it if you leave me to do my job. Which I also do well.”
He turned to walk away, but Plum spoke.
“Well, are you going to do your job?” she asked loud enough that even the EMTs glanced over at her in surprise.
Captain Diaz turned slowly back to her. “I always do.”
“Good,” she said. “Then what about Jason and Deepak?”
“Who?”
“Nicholas’s friends. Are you just going to let them fly home? What if they killed their friend?”
“I cannot detain them.”
“But you can strongly suggest they stay,” said Plum. “It is not a unique situation. You don’t have to tell them they’re under suspicion, you can just tell them there is more paperwork to fill out before they leave. It will buy you some time.”
Captain Diaz paused and started to say something before stopping. A smirk crept across his lips. “I will ask them to stay a few more days, here in this villa, as your guests at the resort, señorita.”
“But isn’t this a crime scene?”
“Once again, I did not say that. We do not have crime scenes at Las Frutas. I will humor you, but you can be certain: this was officially an accident, not murder.”
“Thank you,” said Plum, before adding, “you should probably have a police officer guard the house, in case. I think everyone would feel safer.”
The captain shook his head in disbelief. Plum could have sworn he mumbled “Americans” under his breath.
Plum moved toward her golf cart. It was early enough in the day that most guests or residents would still be at the beach or playing golf or tennis. There were a few landscapers blowing leaves and clipping hedges on the neighboring properties, but it was mostly quiet. She felt almost tranquil for a moment, forgetting the grisly scene. She lifted her face toward the sun and sighed. She knew she would be rewarded for doing the right thing.
Chapter 7
Jonathan Mayhew was apoplectic to say the least.
“What? You did what?” he demanded, his eyes ablaze.
“Look, it’s not such a big deal that I didn’t check his ID,” she asserted.
“It certainly is!” roared Jonathan. His normally cool appearance was ruffled. “You may have let a criminal into Casa Mango. Who knows who he was or what he did?”
Plum put her hand in the air as if waving this information away. “The point is, I’ve asked the police to look into this as a potential murder. That way we’re not liable.”
A vein in Jonathan’s forehead started pulsing. “Plum, what if it was a murderer you gave the keys to and he was responsible? And you requested that the police investigate? They were more than willing to write this off as a tragic accident, and now you’ve put our company in danger?”
“You can’t think of it that way,” she insisted, although her confidence was fading. When Jonathan put it like that, he did have a point.
“I’m of a mind to fire you this instant!” he said.
“I’ll sue you.”
“You have no grounds to do so. You haven’t even made it through the three-month trial period we agreed upon. Not to mention that you were insubordinate. I clearly stated numerous times that you were not allowed to rent to a bachelor party, and you did just that.”
Plum had a habit of becoming enraged when people were angry at her. It was a defense mechanism. Therefore, even though she was slowly grasping that she was completely at fault, she would not tolerate the accusations. She rose and made for the door.
“I will take care of this, Jonathan,” she said. “Don’t worry. This will all be settled efficiently.”
“Why should I believe you? And why should I not throw you out right now?”
“Becaus
e…” Plum’s brain worked quickly. “Because I’ve just had confirmation that the Market Street Journal is sending a team down to feature one of our properties and our resort in the next couple of weeks. It’s one of the most prestigious travel sections, as you know, and any luxury rental company would give its eyeteeth to appear in it. But if you want to fire me, I will just call it off…”
“No!” yelped Jonathan quickly. “Is this true?”
“Absolutely,” confirmed Plum. She mentally crossed her fingers.
Jonathan sighed deeply. His mood had decidedly improved. “Well, in that case, just take care of this mess with Mango.”
“I will.”
“Do everything you need to do without getting our agency’s name bandied about.”
“I will.”
“Then we can forget it ever happened.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
When Plum left Jonathan’s office, she found Damián at his desk, a smirk on his face.
“I think you owe me…” he began.
“Oh, shut up!” she snapped.
***
Jason and Deepak had placed an irate phone call to Plum’s office. They were furious that they were not allowed to evacuate the island immediately. Plum had been patient initially, but when their whining and complaining escalated into threats and accusations, she hadn’t acquiesced and instead hurled her own accusations at them, questioning their loyalty to their friend. That had temporarily placated them, and they had all agreed they would calm down and regroup at Casa Mango later that evening. Plum had been wearied from persuading the so-called bereaved and felt that there was something about the service industry that didn’t quite reconcile with her disposition.
“Lucia, any chance we can move Jason and Deepak to another villa?” asked Plum, hoping that would relax them.
“All of our properties are booked, and the hotel is as well,” said Lucia. “It’s Presidents’ Day weekend, one of the most popular times of the year.”
“That’s unfortunate. Please keep checking and let me know if anything comes up.”
“I will.”
Plum was perspiring, and her blouse was sticking to her chest. “This fan doesn’t work at all. Will Jonathan ever invest in air-conditioning?”
Lucia smiled. “I doubt it. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to the heat.”
“Never.”
“Maybe a word of advice? You always look lovely, but you don’t need to dress so…big-city professional?”
Plum frowned. She glanced down at her sleek Valentino pantsuit that perhaps had a bit too large a thread count for this weather but still looked sharp. “No, it is important to maintain a professional appearance. I like to dress for success.”
Lucia nodded. “True, but dressing for success here and dressing for success in New York are quite different things.”
“I acknowledge your opinion, but I was mentored by the editor of Vogue for many years, and I think I will take her lead.”
Lucia smiled. “Of course.”
Juan Kevin offered to accompany Plum to the unofficial interrogation that evening. Her first instinct was to dismiss him. She was still humiliated that he had seen her inebriated and assumed he felt that he had the upper hand. But she relented when she thought it over and decided to put business before personal issues. It could be useful to have them tag team Deepak and Jason. Plum devised a plan that they would try to “chat” with each of the men separately and then compare notes. Perhaps they could coerce a confession. That would be exciting, particularly if she were the one to wheedle it out of the killer. How hard could it be to crack a crime? Plum’s mother used to read dozens of mysteries, and as they were the only books lying around and Plum had nothing to do, she read them after her mother discarded them. Plum had a knack for guessing the killer halfway through the book. She would apply that same skill here.
Plum nodded to the policeman who lingered outside the entrance of Casa Mango. He shrugged in return. She was not at all impressed by him, seeing as he didn’t even question her identity or her reason for visiting Casa Mango. No wonder people were being killed on the island. Such a disgrace, she thought, completely forgetting she had also neglected to check the fake Nicholas Macpherson’s ID and was possibly responsible for people being killed on the island.
Deepak Gupta opened the front door tentatively, still unshaven, blinking as if he had been sleeping.
“How are you doing?” asked Plum, striking a concerned tone. She was purposely a few minutes earlier than the time she’d agreed upon with Juan Kevin.
“As well as can be expected,” Deepak responded before moving aside to allow Plum entrance.
She glanced around the living room and could tell that Deepak and Jason had been holding their own type of wake. There were two empty Jack Daniels bottles, several cans of Coke, and half-eaten bags of Cheetos strewn around the surfaces of the room. Pillows were askew as if perhaps someone had slept on them, and towels lay in heaps on the sisal rug.
“Would you like something to drink? I’m having a beer.”
She followed him into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and offered her a Presidente, but she refused. He shrugged and opened one for himself.
“Juan Kevin will be here shortly. Where is Jason?”
“He’ll be out in a minute. He’s on the phone with his fiancée.” Deepak ran his hand across his burgeoning beard and shook his head. “This sucks,” he said, his voice trembling.
“I’m sorry again for your loss,” said Plum. She slid onto the stool at the counter.
Deepak sighed deeply and stared at the ceiling. “I’m so mad at Nick for allowing this to happen. It’s like I wish I could go back in time and stay awake and not let him keep partying. Then he wouldn’t have slipped and fallen.”
“Is that what you think happened?”
“Isn’t it?” asked Deepak, confused. “That’s what the cops said.”
“What do you think?”
Deepak shook his head. “I don’t know. He was pretty drunk.”
Plum nodded. “Did he often party alone?”
“He wasn’t alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was with some woman.”
Plum’s ears pricked. She almost leapt off her stool. “Who?”
“I’ve no idea. We had been at the bar at the beach. We had run into some acquaintances from New York—AJ Thompson and his girlfriend, Lila Donovan—and ended up having drinks with them. But Nick was all over the place, chatting up different ladies. It got late, Jason and I wanted to go home, but Nick wanted to stay. We left him.”
“And how do you know he was with someone?”
“Late at night I heard the front door open and heard a high-pitched female giggle, then I pulled the pillow over my head and fell back asleep.”
“Would you be able to identify the women he was with at the bar?”
Deepak shook his head. “I mean, there were a bunch; they came and went. Some blonds, some brunettes. It was always that way with Nick. He loved the ladies.”
Plum gave him a quizzical look. “Didn’t you say he had a girlfriend?”
Deepak arched his eyebrow. “Yes.”
“I see.”
“He wasn’t the most faithful guy,” he said with a shrug.
“Granted, I only saw him postmortem, but he didn’t seem like much to look at.”
“You’re awfully blunt.”
“Thank you,” she said, choosing to take it as a compliment.
“Nick possessed tremendous charisma. Life-of-the-party sort. Not to mention he was a big spender. That always produces a gaggle of admirers…” His voice trailed off sadly, as if the realization that his friend was dead was just hitting him.
Sensing Deepak’s fragile state, Plum kept the questions coming before he could dissolve int
o tears.
“Then last night wasn’t unusual?”
“The night before was the same story. We were at the beach bar both nights. Jason didn’t want to even talk to other women, so I stayed with him while Nick did the rounds.”
“Jason’s devoted to his fiancée?”
“Sure,” said Deepak, quickly taking a sip of his beer.
Plum straightened up. “You don’t sound so sure.”
A strange look passed over Deepak’s face. “No. He’s devoted. You could say that.”
“Well, I could, but would you?”
Deepak laughed and stared at his bottle of beer. “Very clever.”
“What do you mean?”
“Coaxing everything out of me.”
Plum leaned toward him. “Is there anything you shouldn’t be talking about?”
He chuckled. He seemed about to say something but then stopped himself. “Let’s just say, Jason wants to marry Kirstie. And nothing will stop that. If he has to avoid other women for a while…he’s willing to do that.”
“And if he didn’t have to avoid other women?” prompted Plum.
Deepak’s face was grim. “I don’t think he would. But that doesn’t matter. Kirstie’s family has made it clear.”
“Are they the threatening sort?”
Deepak shrugged. “I don’t think Jason feels threatened by them.”
“Did Nick have enemies?”
“Loads. Nick pissed a lot of people off. He would do things like borrow money and never repay it. Not to mention his string of angry ex-girlfriends. The list is long.”
“Enemies who hated him enough to follow him to Paraiso and kill him?”
“I doubt it,” said Deepak. “I mean, everyone has enemies. And besides, the cops don’t think it was murder. I’m not sure why you do.”
Before she could answer, they heard the doorbell ring, and seconds later, Juan Kevin followed Jason into the kitchen.
“Sorry, I didn’t think I was late,” said Juan Kevin.
His hair was damp as if he had just showered, and he smelled of some fruity cologne. Normally Plum loathed scented men, but there was something appealing about it on Juan Kevin.
