by Vicki Delany
I can’t say why I was so determined to find out what had happened to Rhonda. I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Darlene. Headlights of oncoming cars washed over her face. Maybe I was doing it for her. Maybe I was doing it because Darlene seemed to think I could be trusted. Maybe I was doing it because I thought Darlene was someone to trust.
Then again, maybe I was doing it because I’m the nosy type.
The sun wasn’t up yet, and the streets were quiet. But they were not empty. Lines formed at bus stops. People piled into the unofficial taxis called jitneys. A silent army heading to work. Getting the hotels and restaurants ready for tourists to enjoy.
I work nights myself. I know everyone isn’t at home in bed when darkness falls. But somehow today I was seeing it all through new eyes.
We climbed the steep hill. The sky was alive with stars. From up here we could see a long way out to sea. In the distance a giant cruise ship passed in a blaze of light.
“You missed the entrance,” I said as Darlene sped past the resort’s wide, tree-lined driveway.
She laughed. “We aren’t knocking on the front door, honey.”
We reached the end of the road, and she turned onto a rutted dirt track. We bounced down the path, which ended at the employee parking lot. Cars pulled in behind us, and a long line of people walked up from the bus stop.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“We snoop,” Darlene said. She switched off the engine. “We can start at the kitchen. We’ll wait there for someone we can talk to.”
A thin line of light was appearing over the ocean to the east. Trees began to take shape out of the darkness. Darlene and I stood in the shadows of the neatly trimmed bushes lining the path to the kitchen. Her timing was good. The kitchen staff was just arriving. No one paid any attention to us.
We didn’t have to wait long before I spotted Marilee. She walked alone, shuffling her feet, her head down.
I didn’t exactly leap out of the bushes, but she gave a small squeal when I appeared. “Hi,” I said.
She glanced quickly around. “You again. What do you want?”
“A minute of your time,” Darlene said. “Have you got a minute?”
Marilee glanced up the path. “No, I don’t. Sorry.”
“We’d like to help you,” I said. “If you’ll let us.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“I think you do. Or you will soon. The police are investigating Rhonda’s death. That means they’re poking around. Asking questions.”
She shook her head. “They’re finished with it. Her boyfriend set the fire. That’s what everyone says.”
“You can’t always believe what everyone says.” I tried to look confident. It wasn’t easy. I had absolutely no idea what I was taking about. Marilee was afraid of something. I’d sensed it when I spoke to her. She was afraid of more than her bosses finding her chatting to a hotel visitor.
“Let us help,” Darlene said.
Two women passed us. They opened the door and walked into the kitchen. “Good morning,” one of them called. The door swung shut behind them.
“I can’t talk here,” Marilee said.We followed her around the side of the building. We stood in the shadows, next to Dumpsters and trash bags.
“We know the restaurant is using cheap food and wine,” I said. “And charging for expensive stuff.”
Marilee let out a puff of air. She nodded. “None of us talk about it. But we know. Some diners are given different food than others are. My friend who waits on tables says there are two storage rooms for wine. When bottles are empty, they’re sometimes filled with cheaper wine and their tops put back on.”
“Hasn’t anyone told the hotel owners what’s going on? They’re being cheated as much as the customers.”
Marilee’s laugh was bitter. “Who would believe us? They would ask our bosses, and they would say we are lying. We would lose our jobs. I came to this country to get work. I need this job. I send money home. I have three children. One of them is not well, and she needs extra care. My mother looks after them so I can be here. To make money for the family. My sister works here also. She cleans the rooms.”
I glanced at Darlene. Her face was set into tight lines. “Are you here illegally?” she asked.
“No! I have proper papers. My sister has proper papers. We have work visas. We can stay here if we have jobs.”
“Was Rhonda involved in this?” I asked.
Marilee nodded. “She did the cooking, didn’t she? I saw Mr. Bellings give her money several times.”
The side door flew open, and a man came out with a full garbage bag. He tossed it into the bin and went back inside.
When I looked back at Marilee, she was gone.
“Let’s go,” Darlene said. “We have enough to take to the police.”
We took our time walking to the car. We talked over what we’d been told.
“If this comes to court,” I said to Darlene, “it’s going to look bad for Rhonda. We can’t keep her name out of it.”
“Teddy won’t thank me, that’s for sure. Neither will my mother. But Antonia wants to know the truth. She deserves that, I think.”
“Trevor Bellings and Rhonda and maybe some other managers were cheating the hotel. We suspected that. Knowing it doesn’t do much to help us solve the murder. It still could have been Ralph.”
“Time to leave it with the police, Ashley. We’ve done what we can. If the police start digging into illegal activity, maybe they’ll find out what happened. Maybe Rhonda got greedy. Maybe she wanted a bigger cut. And if so, maybe Trevor or another manager killed her.”
We reached the car. Despite all the questions churning in my head, I took a moment to admire the view. The sun was rising over the ocean, and it seemed as though the entire world was spread out at my feet. Charter fishing boats headed out to sea, and sailboats bobbed in the gentle waves. A plane flew overhead, coming in low for a landing. Far below us, a group of early-morning joggers ran down the beach.
“Best view on the island,” Darlene said.
“Is that why some people think the property should never have been developed?”
“Money talks,” Darlene said. “It always does.”
We got into the car and headed back to town.
The road was empty. The morning workers had all arrived. Most hotel guests were still in bed. Darlene took a corner far too fast for my liking. The old car picked up speed. I looked out my window and peered over the edge of the cliff. Stones, sand, weeds and scruffy shrubs fell away. The sea crashed against the rocky shore. The edges of the road were crumbling away.
I thrust my foot against the floor as if I could control the brakes. “Hey, take it easy, Darlene. It’s a long way down.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t what?” I looked at her. Darlene’s eyes were wide with fear, and her mouth open in a silent scream.
My scream wasn’t so silent. “What’s happening?”
We flew around a bend. I swear the front tire went over the edge. Darlene swung the wheel hard, and the car crossed the middle line.
A bus was coming, struggling up the hill toward us. Darlene pulled back into her lane with inches to spare. The bus driver blew his horn in anger.
“Slow down!” I yelled.
“Brakes aren’t working.” Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Her right foot pounded uselessly on the brake pedal.
TEN
I FUMBLED IN my pocket for my phone. I didn’t know what good calling 9-1-1 would do. No one could help us now.
Another bend, this one even tighter than the last. The sky blended into the ocean. The scruffy trees sped past. I felt myself falling as Darlene took the corner too fast. Then I was upright again. A rented Toyota Yaris filled the lane ahead of us. It was going too slow. Taking care on the dangerous clifftop road.
“There’s a construction hut after the next turn,” Darlene said though gritted teeth. “Sandy road. That’ll stop us.”
“Can you make it?”
“I won’t know until I get there.” She leaned hard on the horn and pulled into the oncoming lane. We sped past the Yaris. We squeezed between a wall of solid rock and the rental car. I caught a glimpse of frightened faces. The driver yelled at me. Then we were past them. We were going even faster now. Trees were a blur. Sky and ocean blended into each other.
“Almost there,” Darlene said. “Let’s hope no one’s coming.”
I closed my eyes. Then I realized I didn’t want to die not knowing what was going on. I opened them again.
We took the turn on two wheels. I braced myself for a crash. The car shook beneath me. Something metal moaned. If this didn’t end in a plunge to the sea, the car would fall apart.
“Now!” Darlene yelled. She spun the wheel to the left. I think I screamed. We crossed the road, aiming at the side of the cliff. But then we were going up, not down. The wheels of the car dug into soft sand. We began to slow.
We came to a shuddering halt inches away from the front grille of a truck.
Darlene let out a long puff of air. She leaned forward and rested her head on the steering wheel. I was frozen in shock. My door flew open.
“Are you people okay? What the heck was going on there?”
I gave the man who’d been driving the Yaris a weak smile. “Brake problems.”
He helped me out of the car. A woman assisted Darlene.
The moment the man let go of my arm, I staggered. I leaned against the car, sucking in deep breaths. We were in a road-crew maintenance yard. A couple of yellow trucks. A tin-roofed shack. A trailer. And, best of all, a steep, sandy track.
A man came out of the trailer. He waved his arms at us. “You people can’t be here. Get going.”
I laughed. Darlene laughed. She ran around the car and hugged me. I hugged her back. We laughed some more. The couple from the Yaris watched us, smiling.
“You’re trespassing,” the man from the trailer yelled. “I’m calling the police.”
I was still gripping my phone. I showed it to him. “Let me do it.”
I called 9-1-1 first. Then I called Alan Westbrook.
By the time the police arrived, our laughter had died. Darlene and I sat close together in a patch of shade. We were both shaking. I was on the verge of tears. The couple from the Yaris had handed us their water bottles. The muttering guard had gone back inside his trailer.
“Ashley? Darlene? Are you okay?” Alan stood over us.
Darlene jumped to her feet. I attempted to do so, but my legs gave way. Alan grabbed my arm and helped me up. “What happened here?”
I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts, I hadn’t heard him arrive. Two police cars were parked at the edge of the track. A uniformed officer was speaking to the guard. Another was talking to the tourist couple and taking notes.
“Brakes failed,” Darlene said.
“You were lucky,” Alan said. “That’s a dangerous road.”
“Not luck,” I said. “If Darlene hadn’t known about this track…” My voice trailed away.
“And no accident,” Darlene said. “Those brakes were tampered with.”
Alan glanced over his shoulder at the old car. “Are you sure?Your car’s not exactly new.”
“I keep it in good shape,” she said firmly. “Had maintenance done last week.”
“Maybe the mechanic made a mistake.”
“He’s my brother. He doesn’t make mistakes.”
“I’ll have it checked out,” Alan said. “Give me a minute here, and then I’ll drive you two into town.”
He went to talk to the other officers.
“We’ll be going now,” the man from the Yaris said. “If you’re okay.”
“We’re fine,” I said. “Thanks to Darlene’s driving skills. Thanks for your help.”
He smiled at us. “When you passed me, I was going to give you a piece of my mind. One look at your faces, and I knew you weren’t trying to kill yourselves on purpose.”
Kill yourselves.
A cold finger touched my spine. I shuddered.
We hadn’t tried to kill ourselves. But if Darlene was right about the brakes, someone had tried to kill us.
ELEVEN
“I CAN’T HELP but notice,” Alan said, “that this is the road to the Blue Water Vista Resort. Mind telling me what you were doing there this early in the morning?”
Darlene and I were in the backseat. Alan’s hands rested lightly on the steering wheel as he drove slowly down the hillside. Slowly and carefully. On another day I might be able to admire the view again. Right now I kept my eyes on my hands and my hands between my knees.
“We were asking questions,” Darlene said. “Questions the police have been ordered not to ask.”
“No one has ordered me not to ask questions.”
“Not in so many words,” she said. “The case was closed quickly. Ralph Bosleigh was blamed for the murder of Rhonda Michaels. A so-called crime of passion. Except that Ralph didn’t do it. Yes, he was the sort to take out his rage on a woman who threatened to leave him. But he never would have done it in such a way. If he’d wanted to kill her, he would have been in her face. His macho pride would have demanded she see him do it. To know what was coming and from whom. He never would have killed himself after. I know these people, Sergeant Westbrook. I know how things work on this island.”
“I’ve ordered your car to be sent to the police garage,” Alan said. “They’ll go over it with a fine-tooth comb, and I’ll be watching. If we find it’s been tampered with —”
“Which you will,” she said.
“If we do, I’ll reopen the Michaels and Bosleigh cases.”
Darlene settled back in her seat. “Can’t ask for more than that.”
“You were coming down the hill. Meaning coming back from the hotel. Tell me everything that happened there. But first, from now on you two are to stay away from the Blue Water Vista. Far away. It seems you’ve poked someone with a stick. You don’t want to find out what they’ll do next.”
“You got that right,” I said.
Alan called me the following afternoon. I was by the pool with my book. Not much reading was being done. I’d been able to put my near-death experience out of my mind at work the night before, but now I kept going over it. I kept thinking, what if? What if Darlene hadn’t known about the service road? What if another car had been passing the moment we needed to turn?
“I put a rush on Darlene’s car,” Alan said. “The mechanic found the problem right away. Darlene was right. Cut brake line.”
I sucked in a breath.
“Darlene said she had no problems with the car going to the hotel. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Then the line was cut while you were there. Did you see anyone hanging around the car? Paying attention to it?”
“No.”
“So they’d finished by the time you got back.”
“They must have,” I said. “I didn’t see anyone I knew in the lot or heading to the hotel on the path. But I wasn’t looking, and that area is surrounded by bushes. Did you find anything else in the car? Like fingerprints maybe?”
“The underside of a car isn’t exactly a clean place,” he said. “But there was something there that didn’t belong.”
“What?” Dare I hope it was a hotel ID card?
“A couple of threads caught on a loose bit of metal.”
I swallowed my disappointment. “Doesn’t sound like much.”
“The threads were clean. Under the layer of recently deposited sand, that is. Which means they hadn’t been there for long. Good cotton. Pale blue.”
“The hotel uniform is dark blue.”
“Not all of them.”
I sucked in a breath. “Managers wear pale-blue shirts with dark trousers.”
“So they do,” he said. “That, plus what you told me, was enough to get me a warrant for the hotel’s kitchen accounts.” The day before, I’d told Alan
what we had learned about the pricing of food and wine. “I’m meeting a forensic accountant there in a couple of minutes. I’ll let you know what we find out. And Ashley, remember what I said. Don’t go to that hotel again. The examination of the books is going to take some time.”
“Suppose the ambulance gets a call?”
“Ask for a police escort to go with you.” He hung up.
It took me a moment to realize he hadn’t been joking.
Two days later I heard on the radio that several managers at the Blue Water Vista Resort had been arrested the previous night. They were being charged with fraud. Police accountants had found two sets of books in the kitchen offices. One recorded the real prices paid for wine and ingredients. The other, used to report to the hotel’s accountants, showed the highly inflated prices.
Nothing was said about the murder of Rhonda Michaels.
Nothing was said about the attempted murder of Darlene and me.
When the news came in, Simon and I were at the hospital. We’d just dropped off a tourist who’d suffered a heart attack while jogging on the beach. Judging by the size of him, running wasn’t his usual activity. I guessed he’d been trying to impress the pretty young women in their bikinis.
“Let’s swing by the Blue Water Vista Resort when we’re done here,” I said to Simon.
“Why do you want to do that?”
“I still have questions about Rhonda Michaels.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, I heard you and Darlene were poking around. You never give up, do you, Ashley?”
“Not if I can help it,” I said.
“Darlene told me you’re not supposed to go there.”
“I’m sure it’s safe now. The bad guys have been arrested.”
Simon shrugged.
We drove up the hill toward the luxury resort. I turned away when we passed the sandy track to the work site.
I decided not to creep around in the bushes again. Simon dropped me at the entrance, and I marched across the lobby. I asked to speak to the personnel manager. I tried to look important. It probably helped that I was in uniform.
