Love, Art, and Murder: Mystery Romance

by Kenya Wright

  My heartbeat boomed at an erratic pace in my chest. “There was an announcement?”

  “Yes. It was posted yesterday morning.”

  “And in your grandma’s visions she saw him looking at the article and yelling Ellie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe your grandma knows that he calls me that and perhaps she figured out that—”

  “There’s no use trying to convince yourself that my grandma’s visions are wrong or even why she is having them. That’s not the point. What’s important is that you’re possibly in danger. She said he was drinking the whole time he screamed your name and painted you on his canvas. That doesn’t sound like a sane man to me.”

  He wasn’t, but not as bad as what Alvarez would be thinking. Michael just liked to swim in depression and mind games. It wasn’t that he missed me because he loved me. Michael cried for me because he needed another person to blame and hurt. If I was gone, then who would he point to as the reason for his failures? Who would take the blame?

  “He won’t hurt me.”

  “Guards are going to stay with you wherever you go.”

  I shook my head. “First of all, I would appreciate it if you asked me instead of ordered me.”

  “I care about you. I want you safe.”

  “I understand, but it’s my choice to make whether I will have guards with me or not.”

  He took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his temples. “Will you?”

  “Maybe. I’ll have one for a few days, but I can’t keep them the whole time.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not your responsibility. You have enough going on.”

  “And what if I want you to be my responsibility?” He stopped rubbing his forehead and moved closer to me. Bags rested under his eyes. His shirt appeared rumpled and slept in. Although, knowing Alvarez, he probably hadn’t slept at all.

  “You’re busy right now. Maybe you should take some time to finish all of the things you have on your plate first, before you begin adding me to the mix.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I swallowed down my nervousness. It had been one of the biggest things I’d considered last night after hearing Hex’s news. Alvarez dealt with mountains of duties and stressful situations when it came to his family, things that no one should have to deal with. But after being with him and truly learning about the type of person Alvarez was, I understood that his family was a labor of love for him. I just didn’t know where I would stand in such a busy situation. With all of my baggage and personal insecurities that I still had not conquered, would I be more of a hindrance than an escape?

  And there was the fact that although Michael didn’t truly love me, he would be a new difficulty for Alvarez. I didn’t know if Alvarez’s grandma’s visions were true or not, but if they were, then this would be awful news. Michael would come here and try to win me back, whether through fake chivalry or threats. Alvarez would attempt to step in as the knight in shining armor because that was just the type of guy he was. I would add even more to his plate than his family.

  “I just think that we may have jumped into this situation without truly thinking about whether we should.” I couldn’t look Alvarez in his face and see his heart break. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t date or whatever. I just believe I have a whole lot of stuff I need to deal with. And frankly, you do, too.”

  “I don’t like this conversation.” He came in closer, until barely a foot remained between us. “I don’t like what you’re saying or how you’re saying it. If you believe you’re unsafe and need to leave this property, then that’s fine. I’ll help you remain protected. If you need help with Michael, then I’ll be there for you, but putting a pause to what we’ve begun isn’t going to happen. You’re the one good thing that’s happened to me this week. Fuck it. These past years. I won’t put a pause on this.”

  “But—”

  He stopped my counterargument with a kiss. “There’s no buts about this. I want to give you my extra heart. Take it. Don’t overanalyze my life. Don’t try to make things easier for me. I need you more than I need them. In the end, if it’s you or them, I’ll take you and leave them as well as all of this other stuff behind me.”

  “Stop that. Don’t talk about them like that. I know how much you love them.”

  “It’s true.” He captured me by my waist and pulled me against him. “I love them. Until meeting you, they were all I had. And I know it sounds wrong that after only a few days of knowing you, I would leave them all behind, but it’s the truth. The past few days have taught me something. It showed me that I’ve been letting life pass me by. Every day it’s something new with my family. No matter how many fires I put out, another comes to take its place. You can leave, if you want to. I understand. I need to know you’re safe as well, but you can’t leave what we have. You can’t.”

  I buried my face in his shoulders. “I need time to think about this.”

  “Why? What time do you need? I didn’t propose. I didn’t ask for a commitment.”

  “But you are asking for something more than I can give you right now.”

  He stiffened against me. “I just don’t want you to think we need space or time away from this.”

  “What is this between us?”

  “Everything,” he whispered.

  “Alvarez, I can’t give you everything right now. Michael broke me. He made me second-guess who I am and in that process I forgot myself. I left her behind. My coming here was about learning about me and finding out who I am.”

  “That’s not what you said last night,” Alvarez said through clenched teeth. “You told me no limits.”

  An exasperated sigh escaped my lips. “Well, in the light of everything around us from the new murders to Michael searching for me, I think we need some limits.”

  He released me. “If this was a movie, would it be one of those stupid unrequited romances where the couple decides to not be together on the basis of simple things that could be changed?”

  “No. It’s the type of romance where the heroine is broken and the hero is chained to other things. It’s not unrequited love. It’s just not possible. In a few days or weeks or even months it will be possible. Right now, I need space and time to reflect on me while you need to save your life and family.”

  He formed his hands into fists. “Is that your final say on that?”

  I directed my attention to my bag. “Yes. I would like to leave here this evening and we can stay in contact through email, but I would rather you not come and visit me for a few days or so. Take care of this and let me deal with Michael.”

  Several uncomfortable minutes passed.

  “Then fine.” He turned away from me and left the room. “Goodbye, Elle.”

  Chapter 24

  Alvarez

  I dove into my work and swam through piles of duties and did my best to keep my mind off Elle. I had a meeting with Detective White about the murders. Something had to be done. Things had gotten out of hand. Too many died and still only unexplained peculiarities existed. As grandma suggested, I looked at the video.

  The screen flashed off and on a few times before clearing to reveal three dead bodies sliding through the hallway toward my office by themselves. The tape switched to the camera in my office where the dead girls glided into the room, rose in the air, and then hung from the ceiling.

  “What do you think this is?” I asked Detective White, who stood next to the open window and lit his third cigarette.

  Please don’t tell me you think it’s an evil spirit, too.

  “When my men cut the girls down, they found dozens of fish wires attached to the victims’ shoulders, necks, and arms. Further analysis of your office showed there was a contraption over here.” Detective White headed over to the area behind my desk. “There was a box nailed to the floor that worked by remote control. The wire was attached to the box. Someone worked the remote to have the girls move on their own. It wasn’t meant to be done in
front of actual people as they walked by. So close, anybody could’ve realized that the girls were attached to wires--that is, if they could get over the initial shock of dead bodies moving in front of them.”

  “So someone wants us to think there is big magic happening around us?”

  “Exactly.” He returned to the window and took a puff of his cigarette. “This person has access to the security room. The entire recording area was in disarray. There were tapes that didn’t record new footage and just replayed the same feed over and over. Therefore the guards watching the cameras never noticed anything strange. During that time, the killer must’ve carried the bodies to the area, hooked them up, set the box in your office, and fixed the cameras to return back to normal. Whoever did this took serious time learning the camera process, the servants’ schedule--and I’m not just talking about the girls who passed away. This person learned all of their schedules so they can move through the house unnoticed. I can’t find any unusual people walking the hallways. Everything seems in order.”

  It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I needed answers. No one else could die, not here. I couldn’t deal with being the cause of another person’s death due to not finding this killer.

  “Who do you think could’ve done this?”

  Detective White flicked his cigarette’s ash out the window. “I’ve been going through scenarios all night. No one was in the house doing anything suspicious.”

  I didn’t want to ask, but I did. “Earlier, you thought my brother and grandma may have had something to do with this mess, along with Dayanara and Reece. Have they been canceled out as suspects?”

  “Pretty much. Your brother painted the entire time before the girls moved in the house as well as once they were found. Your grandma argued with the police officers outside the house about Reece and Dayanara being arrested.”

  “Wait a minute. The girls’ deaths occurred while the cops were in front of the castle?”

  “Yes. The police and I were outside the entire time.”

  Dear God. This guy is getting ballsy. If he can do this while cops are near, what will he do when they’re not around? How much further will they go?

  “What do you think I should do now?” I asked.

  “I would suggest evacuating the property and going somewhere else. Unless you’re unable to?”

  “No. We can definitely leave. Is there any good news to this situation?”

  “Well, these three victims were not cut in anyway. The killer for some reason didn’t cut their vaginas.”

  “Oh god. I forgot to tell you. My grandma cut the first two victim’s vaginas.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yes. She did it for a spell to allow the women’s spirits to have peace or something. I’ll have her explain it to you.”

  The short man pulled out his notebook and wrote several things on it.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner. What else do you have on this case?”

  “There are other parts about this situation.” He put the notebook away, slung the cigarette in his finished coffee, and waved smoke out the window. “I have other questions in my head about the victims. I’ve been putting together a report of all the women. I gave one to the detective in charge, but as you’ve asked me, I also placed one on your desk.”

  “Is there anything similar about these women? Any person they all dealt with?”

  “Well, the obvious person is Hex. He invited them all to the property. I am still unclear on the reason why they were guests here.” He walked over to my desk and picked up a thick stack of papers.

  “He usually invites them to work on some project that pops up in his head,” I said. “My brother tends to start projects and drop them, then the next month or so get excited about something else and invites more people. Meanwhile the earlier guests are hanging around the property waiting to begin.”

  “Maybe if I knew the name of the projects and what the goals were, this could help me and the police somehow.”

  “I’ll have you interview him sometime today. I would like to be present.”

  “That sounds good.” He raised the stack of papers in the air. “Either way, this is the report on the victims.”

  I didn’t relish the idea of reading about the lives of dead girls for the rest of the day. Especially with Elle leaving. My plane was scheduled to carry her away in five hours. Ideas popped into my head—a surprise dinner for her before she left, a small gift to say goodbye, a sappy letter about how we would be good together and to beg her not to wait on us.

  “Were there other similarities with these girls? I don’t have time to read the report tonight.”

  “Well. . . I’ve found that when investigating murders no little coincidences should be overlooked. These women shared a doctor. However, I’ve discovered that basically all people living in the castle went to this same doctor.”

  “Dr. Rosenberg?”

  “Yes.”

  “He treats anybody here and has a small office in the west wing. With a staff as big as mine and the types of parties Hex enjoys having, I like to keep a medical person on the property. Additionally, Dayanara presents her own medical needs.”

  “Well, I’ll need to interview him also. The police already have him down on the list of people to talk to. He prescribed all five women the same sleeping pill. It was discovered in all of the victims’ stomachs. The official coroner report states that all five victims died from a sleeping pill.”

  I sat up in shock. “What? Sleeping pills?”

  “Yes. The first victim, Brenda, was stabbed in the heart, but she was stabbed after the murder. The sleeping pill is what actually killed her. The second girl, Patricia, ingested the same thing. The police believe that these three girls will have the same pill in their stomachs, too, which leads us to the doctor who prescribed the pills to the girls.”

  “I doubt the doctor was involved.”

  “I don’t doubt anything anymore. And if this doctor treated Dayanara, then he had access to her. Perhaps he would know the schedule of the servants.”

  “Maybe. He treated the servants also, and my grandma told me that many have befriended him.”

  “Then he’s someone I will look into further.”

  “Are there other similarities with these women?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure, but they all have troubled pasts in some way.”

  “Hex is drawn to imperfect people with battered upbringings. It’s a sort of camaraderie for him to know that he’s not the only one who was dealt a wicked hand. What did these women go through?”

  “Brenda, the first victim, was born a twin. When she was seven, she lost her twin sister in an accident. The two girls bathed together. Their parents didn’t monitor them and were in another part of the house. The police reports say the two girls were play fighting and the twin sister slipped backwards and banged her head against the edge of the tub. Brenda jumped out of the tub and ran to get her parents, not realizing that her sister would be unconscious, slide into the water, and drown.”

  “Dear God.” I rose from my chair to fix a drink.

  “Brenda never truly got over it. Before modeling she was a video artist who didn’t do well. However, a lot of her videos related to death and loss. When I dug further into her family history I noticed that her parents divorced a year after her sister’s death. It seems Brenda left the house at fifteen to travel with a rock band, and didn’t have any true contact with her mother. In fact, I’m still having trouble notifying any of Brenda’s relatives.”

  “So none of her family are aware she is even gone?”

  “None.”

  “What about the second victim?”

  Detective White flipped a few pages. “The second victim’s name is Patricia. Both parents were psychiatrists. What I could grab from her medical records was that she had some bouts with depression and anxiety. She was engaged to one of the writers here, a Mr. Winslow. He was her mentor when she was twelve and continued to assist her with her
poetry. There were rumors that he might’ve molested her when she was young, but no charges were ever raised by the parents. Apparently, the art world is a pot ripe for gossip. Once she turned eighteen, her relationship with Mr. Winslow went public. The whole time he was married. It seems until this year, he’d separated from his wife and lived at this property with Patricia as counsel in whatever project Hex invited them for. Once you decided that everyone would need to leave, things changed between them. Patricia’s friend, the one who found her in the garden, told me in an interview that Patricia discovered a day before that Mr. Winslow would be utilizing your offer to everyone for a plane ticket to anywhere and that he would use the flight to return to his wife. Witnesses saw Patricia drinking all night and yelling at Mr. Winslow the few times she managed to come near him.”

  I poured a glass and returned to my chair. “And these three women?”

  “A calligrapher, watercolor painter, and video installation artist. Again, all three had difficulty sleeping like the others. There’s not really any clear depression like the first two victims, but I found some interesting facts. The calligrapher, Broseli, was diagnosed with a rare form of bowel cancer three years ago. There has been no indication that she is healed from it. She did have several visits from her own private doctor while she remained here, as well as kept a private nurse with her.”

  I finished my drink, not really sure how much of this I could listen to. The less I knew about the victims, the easier it would be to somehow forget them, I hoped.

  “A simple internet search of the watercolor artist, Trudy, brought up results that she’d attempted suicide three times. Once she tried to paint a picture during her last suicide attempt. She hung from the ceiling by her neck and colored. Her assistant discovered her before it was too late.”

  Hex has more than invited people with sad histories, he welcomed crazy people to our home. What other insane person did he invite, someone who enjoys killing?

  I stifled my groan of annoyance and asked, “What about the video installation artist?”