by Carrie Doyle
Kirstie’s jaw dropped, and her eyes darted between Jason, Plum, Deepak, and Juan Kevin. She appeared about to say something but then snapped her jaw shut like a crocodile who has just swallowed a gnat. “Whatever. You’ll regret it. I’m a catch.”
“You may be a catch, but I feel like the one with a hook in me. I’m ready to throw you back into the ocean,” said Jason.
“Fine. Well, say goodbye to all my connections. Say goodbye to living a one-percent lifestyle.”
“Goodbye,” said Jason defiantly.
“And say goodbye to flying private! I’m calling my pilot and telling him to go wheels up. Good luck getting a plane home!” she screamed.
“Actually, there is a flight to New York twice a day,” said Juan Kevin.
Kirstie let out a wail then yanked her engagement ring off her finger and threw it at Jason. “I didn’t like it anyway! It was a measly two carats!” she exclaimed before she stormed out of the room.
They remained in stunned silence for a moment before Jason broke the tension. “Guess you’ll have to book me and Deepak a flight home,” he said with a smile.
“I’m on it.”
“I’m looking forward to going home,” said Deepak. “We need a proper funeral for Nick.”
“Deepak, did you know all along it was AJ who killed him?” asked Plum.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “But I began to sort it out when I ran into AJ and Lila at the hotel pool. He grumbled to me about how Lila had ranted that she thought Nick was such a fabulous guy when he was really a scumbag. It allowed me to connect the dots.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Juan Kevin.
“I was going to, before he came into my room and attacked me. You really saved my life, Plum. Thank you.”
***
“What now?” asked Juan Kevin as they drove from the hospital to Plum’s town house.
“I guess I need to pack up. Find a place to stay in New York. A job…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t even know where to start. I am completely aimless for the first time in my life.”
“Stay a few days,” he suggested. “Don’t do anything hasty. I bet you barely even went to the beach while you were here.”
She was about to protest, but then she realized he was right. “Okay,” she relented.
Plum glanced at him as he drove and once again marveled at how handsome he was. Maybe, now that this murder investigation was finished, they could go on a date? Would it be possible?
“Or maybe we can go to the rescue shelter after you get off work tonight?” she asked brazenly.
“I would…but I can’t tonight,” he said cryptically.
“No problem,” she said quickly.
“I have an old friend coming in from out of town. Tomorrow?”
“Sure,” she said, masking her disappointment. She wondered if the old friend was a woman, and she instantly conjured up a sexy Carmen-like figure in her mind; she already loathed this imaginary woman. “Ah, brunettes.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you say brunettes?” asked Juan Kevin.
Had she said it out loud? “No. I said barrettes. I need to get some barrettes for my hair. This humidity makes it wild.”
“I quite like it,” he said, giving her an admiring gaze.
The compliment was enough to make her day.
***
After showering and changing into a fresh outfit—an ikat-print linen tunic over white capris—Plum rode her lagging golf cart down to her former office. The pretext was to book flights for Deepak and Jason, but that could have been done with a phone call to Lucia. She wanted to let Jonathan Mayhew know the crime had been solved, and she was completely vindicated.
On her way down, Plum paused at a stop sign and noticed a Porsche to her left. It was Martin Rijo. He turned and glared at her. Plum leaned forward and glanced at the pretty woman next to him. She looked a lot like Carmen, but it wasn’t her. I guess I was wrong on that one, thought Plum.
Lucia and Damián were both at their desks when she entered. Plum noticed her desk had already been pushed against a wall in the back, as if awaiting removal. Just as they were awaiting her removal.
“Juan Kevin told us what happened. Are you okay?” asked Lucia sympathetically. “I’ve been calling you.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little bruise.”
“I heard you are responsible for catching the killer! Well done!” said Lucia.
“Thank you,” said Plum modestly.
Damián sat back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head. “Americans coming to my beautiful homeland to kill each other. Such a shame,” he said.
“It is,” agreed Plum.
“And you were responsible for bringing them here,” he sneered.
“Not the homicidal one. The victim.”
“When are you leaving?” he asked. “The cold New York streets are waiting for you. It will no doubt be difficult for you to find a job. You will not be getting a reference from Jonathan Mayhew. We are happy to see you leave.”
“I’ll let Jonathan tell me that himself, thank you very much,” said Plum.
“Jonathan left for the day. Told me to tell you that,” said Damián.
Plum was dismayed. She had wanted one last moment with Jonathan to apologize for her mistake but also to share her victory.
“Ignore him,” Lucia advised.
“Will do,” said Plum.
“He is very confident today,” said Lucia. “Thinks he will secure a big account.”
“I don’t think I will, I know I will,” said Damián.
“That’s wonderful, Damián. I could not be happier for you,” said Plum sarcastically.
“It is the best property on the island. The owner is eating out of my hand. Needs some cash for legal fees, and I suggested she rent her house for a couple of weeks and make some major money. About to close the deal.”
Plum paused. “Is this Carmen Rijo you’re talking about?”
“Yes, the one and only,” he said smugly. “You have heard of the property.”
“I have,” said Plum, her brain racing. “And I’ve met Carmen.”
“A woman who looks and acts like a woman. Nice, meek, submissive,” he said.
Plum had an idea. “Maybe that kind of woman wants to have a woman rent out her house? Perhaps I should talk to her.”
Damián smiled wickedly. “Good luck with that.”
“Maybe we can make a bet? Like we did for Casa Mango?”
“You don’t even work here,” he sneered.
“Well, if I secure the rental, maybe Jonathan will give me my job back.”
“An easy bet. Sure,” said Damián.
He rose and went into the bathroom. When the door was closed, Plum stood outside it and said in a loud voice, “Lucia, remember you gave me those delicious coconetes?”
Lucia gave her a quizzical look. “Yes…”
“They are so delicious. I know they’re Carmen Rijo’s favorite cookies. Do you mind baking some for me so I may bring them to her?”
“Sure, no problem.”
When Plum heard the toilet flush, she rushed back to where Lucia’s desk and leaned over her shoulder, staring at the computer screen.
“Yes, let’s book them flights at five p.m.,” she said.
Damián strode out of the bathroom and glanced around. Plum looked up.
“I’m leaving now,” he said. “I have an appointment.”
He grabbed his phone and quickly departed.
“What was that about?” asked Lucia.
“You’ll see.”
“Plum, did you receive any of my messages? Someone named Gerald Hand has been calling you. He wants you to return his call as soon as possible.”
> Plum rushed to the phone and dialed Gerald’s number.
“Beg us to come and then play hard to get?” he chided when he picked up.
“I’m sorry…there was a lot going on.”
“We land at three tomorrow. The house better be amazing.”
“You’re coming?”
“Of course. I know it was you who had the resort book Leonard’s dance troupe. It was a crafty ruse to get me to come down and cover Las Frutas. But I could use a vacation; the weather has been abysmal.”
It had worked! Once she heard that Gerald had reconciled with his on-again, off-again choreographer boyfriend, Plum had called Lucia’s friend Charlie Mendoza, who handled all of the resort entertainment, and implored him to hire Elite Feet to perform for several nights. She said she would cover housing and expenses. It was a last-ditch attempt to bring Gerald down to Paraiso.
“I can’t wait to see you. The house is beautiful. A marquee property. You will love it here.”
“See you tomorrow.”
When Plum hung up, she turned and looked at Lucia. “I’m going to need your help.”
Lucia nodded. “I stand ready.”
Chapter 28
Plum borrowed Lucia’s car and parked in a shaded patch outside Carmen Rijo’s mansion, tucked behind a thicket of large trees. She was sure she was safely concealed. She watched as Damián drove up and chatted with the guards. He held up a pastry box and then went through the gates, his cocky demeanor evident even from a distance. He was such a scoundrel. Fortunately, Plum didn’t have to wait long. Within ten minutes he sped out of the gates, barely waiting for them to open, then floored it down the road.
Plum put the car in gear and drove up to the security check. “I’m here to see Mrs. Rijo. Tell her it is Plum Lockhart and I need to see her at once, as I have had a terrible premonition.”
The guard said something into the walkie-talkie, and Plum quickly gained access. She parked the car then took a fast look at herself in the rearview mirror before taking a deep breath. “This is it,” she told herself.
When the maid opened the front door, Plum rushed in frantically. “Where is she? Where is Mrs. Rijo?”
“Out here, by the pool,” said the maid.
Plum hastily made her way to the pool. Carmen was standing, her head in her hands, discarded cookies scattered around her. She glanced up in shock when she saw Plum, her red lips contorted.
“Carmen, forgive me for coming uninvited, but I had a terrible premonition about you, and I needed to make sure you were okay,” lied Plum.
“What? How?” exclaimed Carmen.
“I had a vision of fukú. A brujo was coming to kill you. He would bring you something sweet that would kill you. Thank God I got here in time!”
“He did come!” said Carmen, grasping both of Plum’s arms. “He brought me coconetes and said they were my favorite. I am allergic to coconut! He wanted to kill me.”
Plum nodded. “You didn’t eat them?”
“No, I threw them away!” she said, pointing to the ground.
“Then he was stopped. That’s very good. I’m glad I got here in time.”
“Me too,” said Carmen, not fully realizing that it wasn’t Plum who thwarted the attack, and she hadn’t in fact been there in time.
“I think he was sent by your stepson. I think he conspired with him,” said Plum.
“Yes! What shall I do? Martin is trying to kill me!”
“I have an idea… Is it possible for you to get away for a week?”
“Yes. I can go home to my village,” said Carmen. “Or I could go to Paris. It’s couture week. I need new dresses.”
“Very good. You will need to leave as soon as possible. I will personally oversee the spiritual cleansing of your house. I have two friends from New York, they are experts in driving out evil. I will have them stay here, if they are available, and we will restore your home to the sanctuary it was.”
“I’m so grateful.”
“Just think of me as your azabache. I ward off evil,” said Plum, who was never more thankful for Google. She had done a quick search on Paraison black magic in the car while she waited.
“You will be rewarded for this,” said Carmen.
***
Plum was feeling celebratory but became disheartened when she realized she had no one to celebrate with. Juan Kevin was essentially her only friend, and he had plans. But as luck would have it, when she called Lucia to tell her about securing Carmen’s house for Gerald and Leonard, Lucia insisted on taking her to Coconuts to applaud her success.
“It’s pretty busy here,” said Plum when they settled into their barstools. “But I guess it’s happy hour.”
“It’s always happy hour here,” said Lucia.
“Thanks for meeting with me. What about your grandson?”
“I had his mother pick him up today,” said Lucia. “Sometimes an old geezer like me needs to have some fun.”
Lucia ordered something called a Paradise Fairy, which was the official resort drink. Plum was about to order her usual white wine but decided to branch out and ordered the Paradise Fairy as well. She wasn’t sure what it was but was pleased when it turned out to be a sweet, blended concoction with all sorts of stabbed fruits on toothpicks jammed into it. It had hints of strawberry and passion fruit, and the alcohol was undecipherable but went down smoothly.
“Yummy,” said Plum.
“The best,” concurred Lucia.
Plum became conscious of the fact that she knew very little about Lucia and spent the next hour asking her questions all about her life. She learned Lucia had spent several years working in her family’s hardware store, ultimately taking it over when her father died. During her tenure there, she did everything from overseeing the locksmith department, the knife sharpening counter, and the garden supplies center to ordering and managing inventory and staff as well as the warehouse and the store property. She had sold it seven years ago to a larger chain and taken the position as office manager at Jonathan Mayhew Caribbean Escapes because she was tired of being her own boss.
“My grandson was a baby, and my son and daughter-in-law moved near me, and I wanted a lower-pressure job with great health insurance,” she explained. “Plus, my husband was tired of me talking about the store all the time; he would get jealous.”
“You’re married?” asked Plum with surprise.
“Of course.”
“I just…you’ve never talked about your husband.”
“Really? Maybe because Alfonso and I have been married forty years, and I assume everyone knows that. He’s a professor of horticulture at Paraiso University.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes. He’s an encyclopedia when it comes to anything plants, trees, or flowers.”
They talked more about Lucia’s family before turning to Plum’s future.
“I really have no idea where I should go or what I should do,” confessed Plum. It was the first time she was totally candid with someone, but Lucia was so easy to talk to that she dropped her guard. It was her eyes—she had those big, owlish eyes underneath her glasses. She appeared as wise as she was.
“I think you should stay in Paraiso and open your own villa broker agency,” advised Lucia.
“Me? No, I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I…I don’t know. I don’t have the temperament.”
“I disagree. You get things done. Jonathan Mayhew has been resting on his laurels for a long time. He has no competition, and he is old-school. I was very excited when he told us he was hiring you, but then I don’t think he did anything to help you be successful. Nor did Damián.”
“Damián impeded me every step of the way.”
“Yes. It’s a man’s world at that office…but it doesn’t have to be.”
Plum shoo
k her head. “I don’t see this as my vocation. It was a nice experiment that illuminated what I need to do.”
Lucia shrugged. “I think you would be great.”
Plum glanced behind Lucia and saw that Juan Kevin had entered the bar. She put up her hand and waved, and he gave her a nod and a small wave. She assumed he would come over and say hi, but instead, he followed the maître d’ to a table on the other side of the restaurant. Her eyes moved from Juan Kevin to the woman following him, and a pang of jealousy enveloped her body. She saw an attractive brunette with a clever face and clear, tanned skin. Her figure under her effortlessly chic, patterned wrap dress was the type admired by almost anyone with a pulse, and her excellent legs ended in high heels that Plum knew retailed for four hundred dollars. It was with increasing dread and repulsion that Plum watched as Juan Kevin waited for his date to sit down and pushed in her chair before sitting across from her. He did not look back at Plum.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Lucia.
She turned around to follow Plum’s gaze, and her eyes landed on Juan Kevin. She turned quickly back to Plum.
“It’s getting late; I should probably head home. And you are probably tired as well from so much drama the past few days,” said Lucia. She motioned for the waiter to give them the bill.
“Do you know who that is?” asked Plum.
“Who?”
“The woman with Juan Kevin.”
“No.”
“Did you even look at her?”
Lucia glanced quickly behind then back at Plum. “No. I can’t see very well.”
“You’re wearing your glasses.”
“I need a new prescription.”
“Is that his ex-wife?”
“I don’t know,” said Lucia. She refused to turn and look around again but instead began fumbling in her pocketbook for her wallet.
“Don’t worry, drinks are on me,” said Plum.
“Thank you. Just to remind you, the car will pick you up at two forty-five and take you to the airport to meet your friends…”
“Lucia, I think you are avoiding the topic. You’ve never told me about Juan Kevin’s ex-wife.”
