by Carrie Doyle
“Your sunburn looks better,” said Juan Kevin in a friendly tone. “I like the hat.”
“I’m being diligent about my sun protection from now on.”
“It was a rookie mistake,” he said, smiling.
She wanted to fall into an easy banter but remembered that they were not friends; therefore, it was better to stick to the mission at hand.
“I figured out who the fake Nicholas Macpherson is,” she said.
“Who?” asked Juan Kevin eagerly.
Plum filled him in on the private detective Robert Glover, from his breaking into her house to her dramatic apprehension of him and the fact he was working for Kirstie’s father. She made sure to dwell on her personal heroics. She doubted Carmen could ever capture an intruder as she did. Juan Kevin listened in astonishment.
“You could have been hurt,” he said, his voice awash with concern.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.” She shrugged.
“Still. I’m sorry that you went through that. It’s very upsetting.”
“I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but I would have been displeased if something happened to you.”
Plum didn’t know how to respond, so she immediately fished out Robert Glover’s card and gave it to Juan Kevin. He got on his walkie-talkie and asked one of his security men to go to Glover’s office and detain him.
“He will be charged with trespassing and criminal mischief. This man cannot operate like this at Las Frutas. I will not allow it.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “But he did end up being helpful.”
“How?”
“Robert said his job was only to watch Jason and make sure he wasn’t cheating on his fiancé. After Jason went to bed, Robert then slipped out the back of Casa Mango and saw Nick embracing Leslie Abernathy.”
“Definitely Leslie?”
She turned and pointed toward the bushes that bordered Casa Mango and Leslie Abernathy’s villa. “Robert Glover said he saw her come through the hedge that bordered the property and watched them kiss right there,” she said, pointing to the spot where the grass had been matted on the day they found the deceased.
“And he is sure it was her?” asked Juan Kevin.
“Yes,” said Plum with conviction. “He said it was the blond neighbor.”
“I need to figure out how to proceed. It’s a very big accusation, and Leslie is a homeowner here at Las Frutas. We have specific protocols as to how we engage with them. They have certain privacy rights.”
“I understand, but if she was kissing Nick and didn’t tell us, that’s a big deal. She probably killed him.”
“I can’t imagine what her motive would be,” said Juan Kevin.
“Jealousy,” said Plum. “She fancied him and tried to kiss him. Remember, Lourdes told me Leslie told her maid Nina that he shouldn’t have rejected her and that it sent her into a rage. Maybe he humiliated her and dismissed her as being, I don’t know, too old, or too tall, or too American.”
Juan Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Why would being too American be a negative?”
“Some men think American women are too blunt.”
He gave her a curious look. “I see. But we must tread lightly. Allow her to do the talking.”
“Fine with me.”
“Let’s go and see what Mrs. Leslie Abernathy has to say for herself,” suggested Juan Kevin.
Casa Avocado’s housekeeper, Nina, opened the front door and asked them to wait in the living room while she fetched the lady of the villa. She returned a moment later and said Mrs. Abernathy was finishing up a workout with her trainer via Skype, and if they wouldn’t mind terribly waiting for ten minutes, she would complete her exercises. They agreed. Nina offered them a beverage, which they refused. Juan Kevin sat down on the oversize yellow sofa and took a phone call from his employee who had evidently found a reluctant Robert Glover and was bringing him in for questioning. At least that was what Plum could glean from hearing only one side of the conversation.
Plum sat down across from Juan Kevin. There were several large books on decor and gardening stacked on the table in front of her, as well as a scrapbook with a picture of Leslie in a bunny suit on the cover. If it is displayed in public, it must be fair game, thought Plum, picking it up and leafing through it. With every page she turned, her astonishment grew.
The scrapbook was a collection of news clippings about Leslie, starting from when she was in her teens on the pageant circuit and known as Leslie Shrum. The once-attractive Leslie had pretty, natural facial features and had sported the layered blond hairdo favored by Farrah Fawcett. According to the press, she had been crowned Miss Little Town Rodeo Lady; Miss Wankleman’s Grocery Store Gal; Miss Texas Southern County; and Miss Clover Park. There were ample bikini shots and lots of waving. It appeared she had attempted to do more on the state level, but that abruptly ended with a marriage to one Billy Ray Godspeed, a broad-faced young man with sparse hair and wide hips. Despite the fact it appeared that he only possessed one outfit—jeans, denim shirt, and a cowboy hat—his family owned a large cattle ranch in a town Plum had never heard of but was clearly held in local esteem. The wedding had been covered extensively in the hometown newspapers.
But here was where it got curious to Plum: Leslie had included much more bad press in her scrapbook than good press. There were articles on her vicious divorces—from Billy Ray then someone named Ronald Glock and then finally Carl Abernathy, who owned a Chevrolet franchise. The men accused her of infidelity, fraud, blackmail, and embezzlement. There were also articles on her much-publicized relationship with an octogenarian named Syrus Whittlehead, a financial investor, who had apparently died while they were being intimate. His family tried to have Leslie arrested, but it didn’t happen. In fact, even in the face of all the accusations, it appeared that Leslie had escaped any sort of prosecution. There was also a gossip column item about Leslie apparently dating a homicidal gangster named Diller the Crook. (If they were going to the trouble of making a nickname for him, Plum mused, why didn’t they call him Diller the Killer?) It seemed that Leslie spent some time in the dark Southern Texas underworld, according to a puff piece in a supermarket weekly, where she gleefully declared that she liked bad boys and kept a gun under her bed. It was confounding to Plum that she had kept all the articles.
When Juan Kevin finished his call, Plum handed him the scrapbook without commentary, and he flicked through it. He gave her a look of amazement and started to speak when Leslie appeared, interrupting them. She was wearing a purple sweat suit and had a white bandanna across her forehead that she could have stolen from Olivia Newton John during her “Physical” days. In one hand was a thermos she was taking dainty sips out of, and in the other hand was a small towel she dabbed on her chest to soak up the beads of sweat.
“Sorry to keep y’all waiting, but I cannot skip my workouts if I want to keep a youthful behind,” she said, swatting her own bottom.
“We didn’t mean to come over without an appointment…” began Plum.
Juan Kevin quickly put the scrapbook down, which didn’t go unnoticed by Leslie.
“Oh, I see you found my vanity book,” said Leslie.
“Yes, I am sorry. It was intrusive of me to read it,” said Juan Kevin.
“Don’t be silly, that’s why I leave it out there. Isn’t it a hoot? I am proud to say I have lived a very exciting life,” she boasted.
“Yes, it appears that way,” said Juan Kevin.
“They should make a television miniseries out of my life. It would break all the records.”
“But…why do you save the negative press?” asked Plum.
“I don’t believe in negative press,” said Leslie. She put down her towel and thermos on the coffee table and began doing jumping jacks.
“That’s probably a healthy way to look at it,” said Juan Ke
vin.
“It’s all in the eyes of the beholder,” said Leslie.
“What is?” asked Juan Kevin.
“If something is good or bad,” said Leslie.
“Not exactly,” said Plum.
“Are any of the things they accuse you of true?” asked Juan Kevin.
“Nothing has been proven,” Leslie bragged. She bent down and touched her toes, affording Juan Kevin a close view of her rear.
“Listen, Mrs. Abernathy…”
“Leslie,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “After a look at all the duds I married, you can see now why I like to go by my first name. Like Cher. Or Rihanna. It would have been easier if I had a unique name. I was going by Diamond briefly, but that was too pedestrian.”
“Leslie,” he continued. “We need to ask you a question. It is perhaps indelicate.”
“Fire away,” she said, picking up her leg and putting it on the back of the chair so she could stretch.
“It seems there is an eyewitness who said you returned with Nick Macpherson to Casa Mango on the night of his murder and were engaged in an embrace with him.”
“I wish!” she roared. “But no, that hot stuff only had eyes for Carmen when we were there. I skedaddled home hoping they would end in a biblical situation. Although Carmen said nothing happened. Pity.”
Juan Kevin and Plum exchanged quizzical glances. Plum decided to press Leslie.
“Maybe you had been drinking and don’t remember?” suggested Plum.
“Nope. I only had two cocks that night. That’s my limit on Piñas and Penises night. It gets messy otherwise.”
“I can assure you of our discretion,” said Juan Kevin, “if perhaps there is a reason you don’t want to admit you visited with Mr. Macpherson.”
“Honey, if that were the case, it would be all over town. I know I look very young, but I’m not so young anymore, so if I get some nookie—especially from a youngster—the world will know about it. I’m sorry to shock you, but I am not a virgin, and I have no problem with a lady having a fun time. I can tell you with all my Texas truthfulness that I did not go back to Casa Mango with that strapping young man; I did not kiss him; and I never saw him after I left the bar.”
Chapter 19
“What do you make of that?” asked Plum when they had left Leslie Abernathy’s villa.
“She seems very convincing,” said Juan Kevin.
“How can we really tell? The woman doesn’t move her face.”
“We only have the private detective’s word that she was there. He had incentive to lie.”
“He wasn’t lying.”
“He should be at my office shortly; I will interview him myself.”
“All right. In the meantime, I must head to the hotel and check in on Jason and Deepak. I just received a text from them demanding my presence.”
Suddenly Juan Kevin’s phone beeped. He glanced at it. “It appears Jason and Deepak are causing a scene in the lobby of the hotel. I will need to accompany you to intervene.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
The journey to the hotel from Casa Mango was endless in Plum’s wimpy little cart. By the time she arrived, Juan Kevin was in place and attempting to control the situation. From what Plum could gather, Kirstie’s daddy had come through and had a plane waiting to whisk Jason and Deepak off the island to the safety of his privileged arms. But somehow Captain Diaz had caught wind of the plan and had arrived with his languid deputies to prevent the bachelor party from departing until the case had been solved. Kirstie had apparently thrown a tantrum in the middle of the lobby, and security had been called in. She was still irate when she saw Plum.
“You had better deal with this,” she said, pouncing on Plum and wagging a finger in her face.
Kirstie had her long, dark-brown hair tied back in a ponytail and was wearing a crop top and culottes. For such a tiny and super-stylish person, she had a menacing presence. She reluctantly reminded Plum of a younger version of herself.
“How can I help?” asked Plum.
Captain Diaz had been huddled with Juan Kevin and broke away to speak to Plum.
“By order of the Paraison courts, I have forbidden Jason Manger and Deepak Gupta from leaving the island until we have charged someone with the crime of murdering Nicholas Macpherson,” said Captain Diaz smugly.
“And I have told this policeman that I am an American, and his orders don’t work for me,” yelled Kirstie.
Jason came up behind his fiancée. “Hon, let’s just calm down.”
Jason’s “hon” turned around and glared at him. “Don’t ever tell me to calm down,” she snapped.
“Captain Diaz,” said Plum. “Is there any progress on the investigation? Are you about to arrest a killer?”
“A very interesting question,” said Captain Diaz.
Everyone paused for him to continue. He did not.
“Perhaps, Captain, you can provide these men with some sort of timeline,” offered Juan Kevin. “If you told them how much longer they would be here, it might alleviate some stress.”
“They don’t have to be here,” said Kirstie.
“Yeah, it would be great if you could either arrest us or free us, because we are living in limbo,” said Deepak. “I need to return to work.”
“We are making inquiries,” said Captain Diaz.
“Inquiries?” Kirstie seethed.
“Can’t you do better than that?” demanded Jason.
“We are gathering evidence,” said Captain Diaz.
Kirstie turned and unleashed her venom on Plum. “These people are idiots. Everything is mañana or tranquilo. You’re an American. You need to get this case solved and get us off the island, or else I will destroy you and your career.”
She snapped her fingers, and Jason followed her out to the pool area. Juan Kevin took Captain Diaz aside to talk to him, and Plum was left with Deepak. Hearing Kirstie complain the same way Plum had been complaining left a bitter taste in her mouth. Did she come off that way?
“She’s a real piece of work,” said Plum.
“Yes. She can’t tolerate anything she perceives as laziness or a character flaw,” agreed Deepak.
Juan Kevin had accused Plum of having no tolerance for the shortcomings and deficiencies of others—wasn’t that the same thing? Plum shuddered to think she resembled Kirstie. Had she behaved that badly?
“Deepak,” said Plum. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Let’s sit down.”
They settled into the wicker armchairs in a quiet corner on the veranda. It was cool in the shade, and there was a light breeze that riffled the potted ferns.
“This is so messed up,” said Deepak.
“I know. I have to ask you, why did Nick plan this whole weekend if he didn’t want Jason to marry Kirstie?”
“That’s not true.”
“I’ve heard from multiple sources that he was planning on sabotaging this wedding.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because Nick didn’t believe in marriage or monogamy, but he figured Jason would do well until he divorced her.”
“Are you sure Nick wasn’t in love with Kirstie? Wanted her to himself?”
“Absolutely not. You’ve met her, right?”
“Good point. But why would people say that?”
“I have no idea.”
“I’ve always thought you were withholding something from me.”
“Like what?” he asked, but she could see something behind his eyes.
“You tell me.”
He paused, about to contradict her, but then his shoulders slumped. “We just had a feeling that maybe Kirstie would show up, or her dad. That’s why when you asked me if I knew who had broken into our villa, I was kind of weird.”
“You’re not wrong,” said Plum. “He did hire a private detective
. That’s who impersonated Nick and was snooping around to make sure Jason didn’t cheat.”
Deepak shook his head. “That’s ridiculous, but it doesn’t surprise me.”
“Is Kirstie capable of murder?”
He looked askance. “Have you seen her? Nick was a big guy. No way. Plus, she wasn’t even on the island.”
Plum remembered how AJ Thompson and Lila Donovan spoke of Deepak’s anger. She had to broach that topic delicately. “Were you upset with Nick?”
“He drove me crazy, but I’m a pretty laid-back guy. And I wouldn’t kill my friend, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Who would you kill?”
He gave her an astonished look. “No one. I’m not a killer.”
She had no choice but to confront Deepak. “I have been told that you were angry at Nick for going after a girl you were hitting on at the bar the night he died.”
“First you accuse Nick of being in love with Kirstie and now of chasing someone I liked? You’re grasping.”
“Is it true?”
“Absolutely not,” he attested. Then his eyes narrowed as if considering something, but he only said, “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“Whose tree shall I bark up?”
“You’re the amateur detective. You tell me.”
He refused to engage any further and immediately left. Plum and Juan Kevin reconvened in the parking lot.
“Every time I think we make a step forward, we move back,” said Plum.
“We should probably talk to Carmen again.”
“Would you prefer to go alone?” asked Plum.
“No,” he said.
“Are you sure?”
“Let’s go. Leave your car here.”
Plum promised herself she would allow Juan Kevin to do the talking and try not to be controversial.
