by Rick Murcer
The technical stuff that he chatted about had been fairly hard to understand. She had no idea what the heck biodiversity or habitat restoration entailed and she hadn’t really cared. But they hadn’t talked that much, really. Sarah cooled herself with an imaginary fan, feeling like she had spent hours in the warm sun.
She finally located the card-key just as she arrived at room 586.
“Maybe she’s at the pool,” she breathed. Her pulse was racing. If Juanita wasn’t at the pool, maybe she was over to Max’s Grill (the hotel’s excellent restaurant) for brunch. But deep down she knew that Juanita would be inside. Juanita could be like an old Jewish grandmother sometimes, and today was going to be one of those. Her shoulders slumped as she reconciled that she had it coming.
“Man, this is going to be ugly.” She took a deep breath, fumbled with the key-card and--dropped it on the carpet. “Damn.”
She retrieved the card and scowled at the “Do Not Disturb” sign dangling limply from the doorknob. She pushed the door and crept into the darkened room. The door caught on the plush throw rug causing it to hang open.
The only light the result of a timely breeze moving the patio door’s blind back and forth. Her eyes were adjusting to the shadow-infested surroundings when she noticed the smell. She put her hand over her nose to block the sweet, coppery scent. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed movement. Sarah spun toward the source, held her breath, and waited.
The crimson numbers on the clock radio changed again, and she put her hand on her chest swearing at the clock. The late night horror flicks might have to go.
Then she saw Juanita. Her unmoving form lay sprawled near the head of the farthest bed.
Moving closer, she found herself wishing Juanita was screaming at her. Her pulse raced faster as dread came knocking. Maybe the girl was sick. She took another step and that smell intensified.
Her ears pounded like a bass drum. She bent with caution, moving closer. Something was wrong, very wrong.
“Juanita? Honey, are you feeling okay? I’m so sorr...” She stopped in her tracks, then quickly tore open the drapes.
She lost all ability to speak or move. Her French manicured hands were clenching and unclenching with unconscious rhythm. What she saw wrenched away any grasp she had on reality as the bright rays flooded the room reaching toward Juanita’s pale corpse like the probing tongue of an agitated snake.
Bloody rivulets meandered down tattered breasts and Juanita’s plundered neck was caked with maroon patches. Pieces of graying flesh hung in frayed remnants from her once-beautiful face. Her friend’s eyes were set with an unearthly, eternal stare. The horrifying expression seemed to ask why Sarah had let this happen, why had she left her alone? Her eyes darted to the solitary black rose cradled across Juanita’s chest, briefly wondering why it was there because it didn’t belong. Its beauty was far too much of a contrast with the rest of the disturbing portrait.
That was the end of Sarah’s sane observations. Her psyche could handle no more and the screams erupted like lava spewing from a volcano. One after another. She felt madness drape its sometimes-welcome arms around her and hold on tight.
***************
Carlos Rivera, the newly-hired room steward for the fifth floor, exited the suite across the hall, quite pleased with the white-glove cleaning he had administered, when mind-bending screams incited his scrotum to tighten like hard rubber. He rushed to the semi-open door, swung it open, and hurried inside room 586--a move he would regret forever. One eye-bulging glance at the bloody scene framed on the bed sent him stumbling for the door.
“Dios mio! Dios mio! Dios mio!” rattled from Carlo’s tremulous throat.
Running down the hall, he suddenly stopped and felt his breakfast wretch from his gut and splatter on the expensive hallway carpet.
Sarah was still screaming, but Carlos was oblivious to any single thing other than getting the manager up to the room from Hell, pronto. It was a lurid second, and final, day on the job.
*****************
CHAPTER-11
The Lansing party arrived at an oblong, slightly tattered building displaying a small yellow and red sign hanging, barely, above the stucco patio.
“HACIENDAS.”
Manny watched uneasy looks bank through the group.
“Uh, well. So this is it, eh?” asked Liz.
“Way to go Williams. You bring us to a place that’s guaranteed to have us spending the next two days in the john,” whined Sophie.
“This place has a great rep with the locals,” said Manny.
“Who told you that, the owner’s mom?”
“The concierge. And I thought you were a cop? We don’t judge a book by its cover.”
“Maybe you don’t, but this looks like salmonella heaven to me,” said Sophie.
“Oh come on, take a chance. If you get sick, I’ll buy you dinner on the ship.”
“Oh how kind, given that dinner is included in the cruise.”
Manny grinned. “But my heart’s in the right place.”
Just then a round woman with a wide, pleasant smile joined them. “You eat with us today, yes? Best breakfast on whole island. Come. Come,” she encouraged in a thick, homey Latin accent. “I show you it.”
Rosalina (her name according to the tag on her uniform) grabbed Manny’s arm and ushered them in. The aroma was just short of amazing. They quickly put two tables together, anticipating what was next.
He and Louise faced the north end of the eatery that opened to the ocean. The windows were cranked wide and the sound was wonderful. Green-blue waves rhythmically rushed the rocks and tossed foamy spray that resembled unbaked meringue.
Sunlight created small prismatic rainbows as it filtered through a tumbling ocean that seemed suspended in mid air. Manny and Louise got up to take a closer look.
“Okay, big boy, now I know why you brought me here. This is awesome and relaxing, and you know how I am when I’m relaxed,” said Louise.
“How is that, honey?’
“Great, some cop. I have to explain it to you. Let’s just say you’re going to have a heck of a week,” she finished.
“Well if it’s going to be anything like the last day and a half, maybe we should move here.”
“I don’t think you could take it.”
“Maybe not, but I can’t think of a better way to go.”
She squeezed his arm and they went back to the table.
They sat down to eggs, crisp bacon, stacks of pancakes, and steaming coffee. Frothy orange juice and ruby-red strawberries helped top off the meal.
Thirty minutes later, Gavin stood up. “Damn that was good. You all ready to go?” Manny saw the partially hidden eagerness in his eyes. Even cynical old cops anticipated what was coming next.
“You bet your ass, Chief. We are ready!” cheered Sophie. “Let’s go cruisn’.”
While everyone voiced their approval, Manny reached into his pocket and pulled out the note that had been pushed under the door, holding it high.
“We’ll go right as soon as one of you smart-asses fesses up to sliding this note under our door this morning. I don’t recognize the handwriting, but you are a clever bunch, even with hangovers. So who did it?”
He glanced around the Lansing contingency without detecting a trace of mischief from anyone. Even Sophie looked a touch bewildered.
“What note?” gruffed Gavin.
Manny handed it to the Chief and Gavin read it out loud.
“Bon Voyage, Detective, Bon Voyage. This will be a cruise that you will never forget.”
Gavin looked at Manny with narrowed eyes, “You complaining about someone wishing you a good time?”
“Nope. Just trying to avoid a pay-back-is-a-bitch situation,” informed Manny.
“No one’s going to step to the plate? Sophie?” asked Gavin.
“Not me, I was ahh, busy.”
There was a group groan and someone mentioned too much information as Sophie’s face turned red, a rari
ty to be sure.
No one stepped forward and owned up to authoring the note, and for a brief, ominous moment, he wondered if anyone in this group had performed the prank.
If not one of them, then who?
He chased the doubt away. Someone from this crowd was guilty, and he would find out. “Okay, you’ve all been warned. It’s on.”
Louise grabbed Manny’s arm, “You’re the crack detective here so you can figure it out on your own time, but I’m ready to go.”
It was apparent by the stampede for the door that everyone felt the same way. But his sense of uneasiness returned, hanging in there like a summer cold. Something was off the mark, but he would have been strung up from the rafters if he said so. He stuffed the note back in his pocket.
Liz and Lynn picked up the tab without protest from the rest, and they headed toward the door where the Ocean Duchess waited to sail them to paradise.
Louise pointed to the massive cruise ship glimmering in the distance. “These things look more like floating castles than ships.”
“You see these things and it makes you wonder how they float,” Liz commented.
“Well, it has to do with ballast and the physics of distribution…” began Randy.
“Not now, sweetie. You can explain it over dinner some night. But I want to get my butt in that taxi and onto my boat…err ship. Whatever. I’m ready to go, now,” interrupted Sophie.
“Okay, okay. But I think it’s fascinating stuff,” Randy responded with a hint of dejection.
Thirty minutes later, the Lansing crew had assembled and was roaring to go.
“It feels like Christmas morning,” prattled Sophie, “let’s get this show on the road.”
Just as Manny and Louise jumped into the last cab with Sophie and Randy, the high-pitched police sirens screeched into earshot. The squat taxi driver, singing loudly, closed the van’s wide door and started down the driveway as three black and whites, lights flashing, pulled under the verandah of the Condado Wyndham. Three uniformed officers and two in suits ran into the hotel.
“I wonder what that’s about?” asked Randy.
Sophie and Manny exchanged uncomfortable glances. They knew what it was about. Whenever that many suits accompanied the blues, it was serious, probably a homicide. It was about the only reason detectives showed up at a crime scene in the first wave.
“The Police radio said there was a woman found dead in her room about ten minutes ago,” said the driver in almost perfect English. “There may have been foul play. That’s what my cousin, Enrique, said. He is the dispatcher who took the call.”
“How awful,” said Louise.
Manny grasped his wife’s hand as the van-cab bounced over the old stone bridge and journeyed to the pier and the cruise ship that would be their home away from home for the next seven days. He tried to hide from Louise just how far his cop persona had forced its way in. Even as his mind screamed this wasn’t his problem.
Sun. Food. Casino. Exotic islands. Blue ocean. Sandy beaches. Skimpy bikinis. He was on vacation.
Not his problem.
Still. He couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling that placed its familiar hand on his shoulder, causing him to finger the mysterious note in his pocket.
****************
CHAPTER-12
The cab lurched to a jerky halt in front of the brightly-painted pier.
“These drivers are nuts everywhere, demonic speed freak must be part of the job qualifications for taxi drivers,” said Louise, clutching her chest.
Manny smiled. “But we got here fast.”
Louise gave him a less than approving look.
After the persistent baggage handlers had loaded the group’s luggage and were tipped the proper amount, the excited cruisers stood in a line, staring in awe-inspired silence at the Ocean Duchess.
They craned their necks to see the top of the fourteen-story ship. Teal borders ran horizontally the full length of the vessel, and set off the blinding white that embodied the rest of the exterior.
According to Randy, she was 1,015 feet long, 122 feet across, weighed in at 124 tons, and only needed a twenty-nine-foot draft (water depth needed to float) to sail. The ship was less than a year old and the brilliant noontime sun encouraged her to sparkle like an expensive diamond.
“I’ve not seen one like this,” exclaimed Liz, “this wench is humungous. That means bars and shops and restaurants, oh my! You did good, Gavin.”
Gavin nodded. “Well, I aim to please.” He pointed to the very top of the ship where the wide smoke stack, shaped like a traditional style kite and painted with wide, curving, blue, teal, and white letters, read “CAROUSEL.”
“See where the smoke stack comes up? Right below it, on that deck level, is the nude sunbathing area. That’s where I’ll be, if any of you women are interested,” deadpanned Gavin, sucking in his belly.
Stella’s soda sprayed from her lips. “How did you know that?” she choked.
He thumped her on the back. “I read it in the brochure, honey.”
“Sure you did,” said Manny.
Gavin gave him the family look. “Thanks, Williams.”
“No offense, Chief, but let me tell you where I won’t be sunning myself,” giggled Sophie.
“In my office, first thing next week,” he teased.
“Yes sir,” she saluted. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”
Manny grinned at the exchange between his partner and Gavin. Always a show.
Louise, Stella, and Barbara started toward the pier’s gigantic restroom for a quick freshening-up session. “Sophie, you coming?” asked Louise.
“Naw. I don’t need to freshen up, I’m plenty hot already, and I’m too excited to pee anyway.”
Manny hadn’t remembered laughing this much in a long time. It was starting out to be the trip he needed it to be.
Out of the corner of his eye, bright whirling red lights caught his attention. Manny’s newly formed joy disappeared like chips in a casino. An ambulance was headed toward the direction of the hotel.
He was back on edge.
Since the siren wasn’t splitting the air with its ear-hammering screech, it meant there was no emergency, or the ambulance and crew were on a training run. His instincts told him this was no training exercise. Somehow he knew the EMS crew was going to pick up a body at the hotel they’d just left. The CSU unit needed time to process the scene so it made sense that the body couldn’t be moved until the forensics squad was ready to let it go to the Medical Examiner’s office. That could take hours, if they were doing their jobs correctly. This ambulance crew might be in for a long wait.
The edge grew more intense when he recalled what the cab driver had said.
“There may have been foul play.”
Had the detectives gone from room-to-room? He would have. His frown deepened, running his hand through his hair. It would be tough because so many people had already left the property. But San Juan is a tourist town so he guessed things like murder in a swank hotel were held far under the radar.
It could have been a domestic thing? What if…?
“Hey, get rid of that working face, we’re on vacation,” growled Alex Downs. “Your wife will castrate you if she sees that look.”
“I know. Once a cop, always a cop.” Manny confessed.
“For some of us. I saw the officers at the hotel and the ambulance too. But it’s not our problem, your problem, and we’re on vacation. Did I say that already?”
“Yep you did, and you’re right. As of right now, I’m out of work mode.”
Alex gave him the evil eye.
“I promise.”
The CSI slapped him on the back. “That’s more like it, but I don’t believe a damn word that just came out of your mouth.”
“Cross my heart.”
Alex looked at Manny. “Ok. I still think you’re lying.”
The ladies returned just as the gate swung back allowing the line of passengers to begin the embarkation proces
s.
After getting their Fun and Sun ID cards, the rest of the embarkation process took about an hour, most of it standing in line waiting for the housecleaning crew to ready the cabins.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Manny and Louise entered their 208-square-foot balcony cabin on the sixth deck, cabin 6224. Tossing their carry-on bags to the bed, they did what every first-time cruiser does--rushed out to the balcony to take in the view.
They were on the port side of the ship facing the harbor. The turquoise water was an immense field of glittering gems as the sun continued to bathe the water in dazzling rays. Breathtaking hardly covered it.
Manny cleared his throat and leaned over the railing.
Louise looked at him, horrified. “You are not going to spit from this balcony, Manfred Robert Williams.”
He pointed to his mouth, indicating he couldn’t answer with a full mouth.
“Manny! Don’t you dare. What if you hit someone?”
He smiled, drew back his head and let it fly, leaning even farther to watch his loogie descend to worlds unknown.
“Oh. That was awesome. Always wanted to do that.”
“You are a sick puppy, you know that, right?”
“Maybe, but you love me just the same.”
“It’s my lot in life. Did you hit anyone?”
“Nope. Straight to the water. You should try it.”
“I’m a lady. That’s not going to happen.”
He drew her close. “Yes you are. And I’m glad.”
“This is going to be amazing.” Louise gave him a warm hug.
She was right, but his mind turned back to what he thought was happening at the hotel and then to the letter burning a hole in his pocket. Alex’s voice slapped him across the face.
We’re on vacation.
