Love, Art, and Murder: Mystery Romance

by Kenya Wright

  “Why should I come?”

  “Because I long to hold you.”

  “Hmmm.” She floated back, which dragged a deep growl from my chest. “Maybe you should come to me.”

  “But I can’t fly.”

  “How do you know?”

  I shifted my view past the ledge and toward the ground that extended miles and miles below us. “I would fall.”

  “Just let go.”

  “But. . .”

  She flew away, and I screamed.

  “Alvarez.” Small hands pressed soft skin against my chest. “Are you okay?”

  Waking up, I opened my eyes and Elle hovered above me. Her hair hung around her opened robe. Some of it rested on my chest. Those two mounds of curvy breasts revealed themselves, not completely but enough to see a hint of pink areola near the robe’s opening.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I lifted my head and captured those parted lips with mine. Instead of pushing me away or telling me no, she melted her body into me. Her supple flesh smoothed against my chest. Goddamn it. I’ll never leave this bed. Anticipation boomed in my core. I rolled Elle onto her back and let my tongue travel around her mouth. Each time I dipped, she sucked. Every time I captured her bottom lip, she took over in seizing mine. Every cell in my body flared and readied itself for combustion.

  “Voy a hacerte mía.” I licked the outline of her jaw, nibbled along the inside of her neck, and opened her robe to fully expose those luscious mounds. “Y cuando eres mía, no voy a dejar ir.”

  “What are you saying to me?” She gasped as I slid my hands over her naked breasts. That sleek skin guided me to a nipple that stiffened under my fingertips. That’s right, Mami. You want this as much as I need it. My length rose in my pants and pushed against the material. Gently, little by little, I twisted the little hard nipple between my fingers. Beautiful sounds ripped from her throat. She arched her back in response and I thought I’d bust out of my pants right there.

  “Voy a hacerte mía.”

  She grabbed my chin and forced my view from her perfect breasts to her enchanting face. “What are you saying?”

  “It doesn’t matter because what I’m saying will come true.” I flicked my thumb against her nipple. She moaned and I did it again. My erection was hard and unyielding. If I didn’t put it inside of her, I would go crazy.

  She moved my hand away. “Tell me what you’re saying or I won’t let you touch me anymore.”

  I licked my lips. “I said that I’m going to make you mine. And when you’re mine, I’ll never let you go.”

  I devoured those lips before she could protest. It was time she knew there was no more going back. In barely three days she’d managed to snare my heart. It was time for her to pay the consequences with my tongue deep between her thighs, never letting her catch her breath or think for longer than a second.

  My phone rang.

  “Maldita sea!”

  She giggled. “And what did you say just now?”

  “Damn it.” I grabbed my ringing phone and shut it off without looking at who called.

  “It’s rude to speak in a foreign language around someone who doesn’t understand.”

  “It’s rude to not take off your robe when you’re sleeping with a love-struck man. It’s torturous, in fact.”

  “Love-struck?” She tossed me a skeptical look.

  My other phone rang. Only my family had the number to the second phone and they were only supposed to use it for emergencies.

  “You have two phones?” Elle asked.

  “Sadly.”

  Who the hell is calling and what in god’s name do they want?

  I paused for a second. The earlier worries of the day crashed into me—deaths and bloodied clothes, my family and the lies they were keeping from me. The phone rang again like a sadistic dictator shoving me back in line to conform with the rest of the troops.

  “You should answer it.” She ran her fingers through my hair.

  That subtle gesture made me tremble against her. “Forget the phone.”

  Someone turned the doorknob and then jiggled it. The door was locked, so they knocked.

  Goddamn it.

  “Yes?” I called out.

  “Why is this door locked?” Grandma’s voice passed through the door with irritation.

  “I’m busy.”

  “You’re never busy.”

  “What do you need?” My erection disappeared at the thought of my grandma directly outside.

  “The guard won’t let me up to see Dayanara.”

  Elle raised her eyebrows as if to ask me who that person was. I couldn’t risk going into that situation right now. Enough craziness existed around us. I couldn’t load any more on her. And to be truthful, I feared she would hear the story, throw her hands up in the air, and leave.

  “Hold on, Grandma. I’ll be outside to talk about this more. Give me one minute.” I jumped up, grabbed my robe hanging off the side of the chair, and put it on as I rushed to the door. Thankfully, Elle remained on the bed without asking any questions and tightened her robe to conceal those beautiful breasts.

  Just an hour or so for me to do what I would like. That’s all I need. They can’t just give me one goddamn hour?

  Outside in the hallway, I shut the door behind me and guided Grandma to my office. “Why do you need to see Dayanara?”

  She took in my disheveled hair and ruffled attire. “You were asleep?”

  “Yes. I didn’t go to sleep last night so I took an afternoon nap.”

  “Well, it’s nighttime now.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Why do you need to see her?”

  “Why do I have to give you a reason? When did all of this start? I go upstairs and the guard says no one is allowed up there without talking to you first.”

  “I want her guests limited.”

  “Why?”

  “Things are happening around me that I’m not aware of, so until everyone decides to tell me what’s going on, there will be new rules to follow.”

  “You’re aware of everything!”

  I stopped and faced her. “Were you walking around the grounds the nights both girls died?”

  She held her hand to her chest and opened her mouth in shock. “Why would an old woman like me be outside so late at night? I can barely stay awake more than five hours or so a day without falling asleep in my chair as I knit.”

  “Knit?”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “I knit.”

  I walked off and muttered, “Knowing you, you’re probably knitting intestines together.”

  “I heard that!”

  To my surprise, Detective White stood outside my office door. A neutral mask wrapped around his face—distant eyes and mouth shut but not turned up or down at the corners. Two large boxes rested next to his feet. He was supposed to search Reece’s living quarters.

  Did he find something?

  I hoped not. For all those years I’d known her, I would never have considered her as someone who harmed people for no reason. In fact, none of my family could’ve had anything to do with these girls’ murders.

  But they knew something. Of that I’m sure. They’re hiding something from me.

  Detective White spotted Grandma storming behind me. “I have some news, but this should be spoken of in private.”

  “Fine with me.” Grandma jumped her little frame between us. “You just tell that lug head of a guard that I am allowed to see Dayanara. If I’m not, then I’ll have to deal with it in my way. You don’t want that and the gods don’t either.”

  “No curses or itch charms or whatever else you’re thinking.” I pointed at her. “We have some things to talk about first. How about we meet for dinner in your cottage? I’ll have the staff make us something nice. We talk and then I’ll give you access.”

  “Dinner? I don’t have time for—”

  “Grandma, please. Dinner in an hour and I’ll take you up to Dayanara myself.”

&nbs
p; “In one hour. Fine.” She marched off with her hands clenched into fists.

  I opened my door. “Let’s talk in my office. Have you finished searching Reece’s quarters?”

  “Yes. That’s what we need to talk about. I’m more than certain she was directly involved in these deaths.”

  I should’ve changed out of the robe, but I knew if I went back into that room with Elle, I would never leave. These murders needed my attention. Detective White followed me into my office. Knots formed in my stomach. “Why do you think Reece is connected to these murders?”

  “In her extra room, she has a closet with the inside covered in clear plastic. Although she did a good job at cleaning, my men found traces of blood, skin, and hair. We were unable to link the blood samples to the two victims, but the hair was another story. My men discovered tiny hairs that belonged to both women, as well as others who came up as missing in the Miami-Dade county police database.”

  I could barely make it to my chair. When I did, I collapsed into it. “Are you sure Reece would’ve known this was there? Perhaps she had nothing to do. . .”

  I trailed off. Always a professional, Detective White had the good sense to let me come to the reasonable conclusion on my own. How could Reece not know that blood and skin was in her closet? Sure, it was the one in the extra room, but there would’ve been a smell. And no one else had the ability to enter the quarters but her, me, and a few servants. While a maid or servant could’ve placed the items in there, when, why, and how? There was always that possibility, but the probability of Reece being innocent sank down to slim.

  I blew out a long breath. “What do we do?”

  “Nothing. I’ve already notified forensics and have them handling it.”

  “Will they need access to the property?”

  “Yes. At least her room. They’ve already checked the grounds. However, Mr. Castillo, I believe your assistant did not act alone. If she ran out that night, as the video shows, and killed the first woman, then I’m left wondering how she ran into— ”

  “Dayanara.” I rose from my seat. “Please don’t tell me you think she involved Dayanara in some way.”

  “Dayanara did have traces of the first victim’s blood on her clothes, and with her involvement in the past murders ten years ago, I believe we should at least consider the possibility she is connected to this.”

  “She wasn’t involved in those murders.” The words came out with the stubbornness of a child. All the evidence pointed to her involvement, but she’d been released on an insanity diagnosis. Once Hex sold his first painting, he demanded I get a legal team to release her from the hospital.

  And now what? Did I release a murderer?

  “What do you need from me in order to decide if Dayanara is connected or not?” I asked.

  “I think we should search Dayanara’s living area now, while your assistant is still gone. Once we’ve done that, I think I can truly decide on my next steps.”

  “Okay.” I made my way around the desk. “Let’s go.”

  Minutes ago, I’d been on top of Elle tasting her skin and fondling her soft flesh. For a few seconds I’d sampled heaven, only to be dragged back into hell.

  It took us barely fifteen minutes to get upstairs.

  The new nurse greeted us at the door with a smile. “Mrs. Castillo has not gone to sleep yet. She is in her room playing with her dolls.”

  “Thank you. This is Detective White. He’s with me today to make sure the room is taken care of. We’ll be looking around her bedroom and possibly the rest of this area.”

  “Is something wrong, sir?”

  “No. This is unrelated to you or your performance.” My answer seemed to please her. She went to the kitchen and stirred a pot with red bubbling liquid inside. “She’s been quiet all day and did not want to leave the room. Does she usually talk?”

  Well, she had a busy night, with being covered in blood and dragged around the property.

  “At times she will say a few things, but the majority of the time she will remain quiet.” I led Detective White to Dayanara’s bedroom door. I noticed that someone had tacked a cross to the wall above her doorway. It was made of cornhusks and a tiny doll no longer than an inch lay at the center of it. Grandma’s protection charm. I scanned the room and identified more spots where she’d nailed shimmering beads of different colors. Symbols covered their shiny surfaces. Smeared ash coated the window frames.

  More of Grandma’s enchantments.

  I opened the bathroom to check if she’d put something there, knowing deep down inside that she had. She did. Hundreds of chicken feet dangled from the ceiling. I recalled a memory of when I was nine years old and visiting Grandma in Cuba and how she’d said, “Chicken feet scare away the dirty souls that try to creep up through the toilet. Always look before you sit, Alvarez. You just never know.”

  I didn’t do anything in that bathroom the rest of the time I was there. During that trip, Mom spanked my bottom so many times for peeing outside that the plane ride home was beyond uncomfortable.

  I glanced at the new nurse over my shoulder. She whistled as she poured chopped onions into the large pot as if no strange things hung around her. The women must know Grandma somehow.

  I should’ve known. Reece said that she had picked a nurse from a health staffing company, but there is no way she did. She must’ve let Grandma pick. There’s no way a woman not practicing corazón muerto would be able to walk around this place without being scared out of their mind.

  Detective White drank in the view as I did. I’m sure after all his years investigating murders and situations for the rich, not much surprised him. However, I was sure my family would test that theory one day.

  “Her room is right here.” I opened the door.

  Dayanara sat in the corner with five dolls in front of her. All of their heads were missing, as usual. She didn’t stop what she was doing or look up at me. Gray hair dotted her temples. A few laugh lines had set in around her lips. It hurt me to realize that she was aging as she lived up in an attic with headless dolls, a stranger nursing her, and walls covered in tattered strips of wallpaper. Detective White stepped in, and I closed the door.

  “Dayanara. This is Detective White. He’s going to look around for a little bit while you and I talk. Is that okay?”

  She just petted her dolls’ bodies. Scratches decorated her fingers. They looked fresh and barely healed, like she’d just received them last night.

  I dug my hand into my pocket and pulled out a strip of yellow wallpaper as bright as the sun. It shone in the hanging light bulb. “I’ve brought you a gift. It’s your favorite color.”

  She hummed, but didn’t look up. I came closer to her while Detective White walked around tapping the wooden panels a few times and shining his flashlight into the cracks between the planks.

  “I’m going to place the wallpaper right next to you.” I set it down by her feet.

  She tensed and waited until I left to pick it up.

  “Do you like it?”

  For the first time that evening she shifted her gaze from the dolls to me. “He’s still going to come.”

  My nerves flared on edge. It was never a good thing when she talked so clearly. “Who is going to come?”

  She returned to humming. It was such a soft jingle, light and melodious, but as I sat in the bare room with the light bulb swinging back and forth and Detective White looking for evidence of two murders, the humming shoved me over the edge. “Who is going to come, Dayanara?”

  She rocked in place and held the yellow paper close to her chest. “Who else would cut those girls that way? Who else?”

  “Mr. Castillo, I think we have something here. It’s hollow in this area and there is a weird smell coming from here.” Detective White knocked in the corner of the room. “Do I have your permission to undo these planks?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Dayanara hummed, stopped, and whispered, “Mama was right. I should have never buried him. He was su
pposed to burn like all the rest. I didn’t say the words.”

  Wood cracked behind me. Detective White had pulled out some weird metal tool and had part of the board lifted. The room filled with the odor of rotten food and the smell of a decaying bird left in the middle of the street. I covered my nose with my arm and breathed out of my mouth.

  Detective White peered in and jumped back. “Oh Mother Mary, you don’t want to see this.”

  “What is it?”

  “The two girls’ missing vaginas.”

  Chapter 19

  Elle

  I went back to my bedroom, realizing Alvarez would probably not be returning any time soon. When he told me he didn’t have time to search for his true love, I’d figured it was a line or some BS excuse. But it was true. He really didn’t have the time. Managing his family had kept him up all day and dragged him out of bed in our moment of passion, a moment I was happy to be interrupted.

  Just like him, I didn’t have time for love. I needed to focus on why I was here, not love or another man’s arms to take my mind off Michael. How easy it had been to lay in Alvarez’s bed, sleep next to him, and wake up to his lips and fingertips all over me.

  A week of Michael and I being separated hasn’t even passed and I’m already with another man. Just like those self-help books said, I have a dependent personality.

  I bathed for an hour and considered all of the things I needed to do. Running out on Michael was only the first step, modeling for Hex the second. After I washed, I gazed into the mirror.

  “Change who you are,” Hex had said.

  I opened the medicine cabinet, searched for scissors, and found a sharp pair. “Okay, Hex. I told you I would follow you down the rabbit hole. I hope you’re not mad about my hair.”

  I snipped for a good hour. Half way into cutting I realized I should have gone to an actual beautician. Once my strands had run well past my behind, now they barely touched my shoulders and were unevenly layered in the back. It looked almost like I’d meant it to be cut that way, almost hip, or maybe I was just telling myself that.

  Now what? Maybe I should figure out if I even want to be a model or do something else.

  I could either decide to keep modeling or find some new career that made me content. After that I held no other plans in my head. I just yearned to be happy like everybody else.