The Watcher (A Miranda and Parker Mystery Book 4)

by Linsey Lanier

  “Esquecer. The resort on the hill.” He shot a thumb over his shoulder, then narrowed his eyes. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  Parker only smiled. “I understand you were employed there a long time.”

  Geninho squinted up at the bright fluorescent lights overhead as if he wished somebody would turn them off. “I was employed by Rico Dominguez, the original owner.”

  “And what happened?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “He got fed up and left. Cannot say I blame him, seeing who he was married to.”

  “Isn’t he still married to her?”

  “How should I know. What does this have to do with me?”

  “You were angry that Rico left, weren’t you?”

  “I was not happy. No one was.”

  “And you were also unhappy with Rico’s wife, who took over management of the resort.”

  “Not news to anybody, except maybe you two.”

  Parker inhaled slowly and Miranda could see his famous patience was wearing thin. “Did you know Rico Dominguez is dead?”

  The surly look on the big man’s face turned to shock then anger. His gaze went to Parker, then Miranda, then Gaspar. All at once he slammed a fist down on the table as he shot to his feet. “You are a liar.”

  Gaspar pushed him back into his seat. “Careful, Geninho. Or we will have to add to your charges.”

  Geninho snarled at the Inspector but took his seat. “Senhor Rico cannot be dead. That is impossible.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because he was young. Full of life. Successful. Smart.”

  Geninho’s gaze drifted absently to the corner and Miranda saw genuine pain there. This was news to him.

  She leaned forward. “Geninho, when was the last time you saw Rico?”

  The surly look returned as he spread his big hands. “The day he left. He gathered the employees in the yard, told them he was moving to Rio de Janeiro and if anyone wanted a modeling job to look him up.”

  “And you felt abandoned?” Miranda asked.

  “We all did. He told us he was leaving his wife in charge and to do what she said. But it was never the same.”

  “And did you feel like you wanted to get back at him?”

  Geninho scowled at her. “I wanted him to come back and take the reins again. I was tired of his wife’s pickiness. Nothing was good enough for her.”

  Especially sleeping in the rose garden.

  Parker took another turn at the man. “There was a young man who worked with you.”

  “I worked with a lot of people.”

  “This was a student. He left the morning you were dismissed.”

  The big man gave a nod. “Nelito Alves? What about him?”

  “You didn’t get along with him?”

  “He got on my nerves. He never took anything seriously.”

  “And?”

  Geninho huffed out a breath, bull-like. “And he stole wine from me, since you seem to know everything there is to know. Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

  Miranda drummed her fingers on the table. “What did Nelito look like?”

  “Look like?” Geninho wiped his brow with the back of his hand. His face was strained as if right now, he’d do anything for a drink. “I do not know. Like a silly young man. He was an art student. An actor or something. Full of ridiculous dreams about seeing the world. As if things would be any better in another place.”

  “What color hair did he have?”

  “Hair?” He squinted as if it were hard to remember. “Dark hair. He wore it long. Put it in a ponytail sometimes. I told him he should cut it or he would get it caught in the bushes when he trimmed them. He did not listen.”

  “And how tall was he?”

  “I do not know. Average height.”

  “About the size of Rico?”

  “Rico? I do not know. I suppose so.” The big man laughed suddenly. “Funny you should say that. Now I remember he used to put on a hat and dance around with a rake, pretending he was Senhor Rico. He did not know him, but he had read of him in the tabloids. We all read about him.”

  And envied him?

  Miranda gave Parker a glance. He nodded and took out his phone, swiped to the surveillance photo. “Is this Nelito?”

  The phone nearly disappeared in the big man’s hand as he squinted at the picture. He turned it this way and that. “It might be. I cannot say. Lovely young thing he is with there.”

  “She’s dead.”

  “What?”

  “We’re looking for her killer.”

  “I had nothing to do with it. I have been in Villaverde ever since I left the resort. I got a job working for an old woman, tending her garden. She treats me a lot better than Rico’s wife did.”

  “Have you heard from Nelito?”

  “Nelito? No. Not since the day he left. You think he killed that girl?” His eyes seemed to sober a moment. “You think he killed Senhor Rico?”

  “What do you think?”

  “How should I know? As I said, I have been in Villaverde. I know nothing about Nelito or what happened to Senhor Rico.” He turned to Gaspar, suddenly panicked. “Are you charging me with murder?”

  Looking very tired, Gaspar got to his feet. “No, Geninho. We are not charging you with murder. We only hoped you could help us find out who killed Senhor Rico.”

  “I swear I do not know. But if I find out, it was that crazy student, I will tell you. If I do not kill him first myself.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Feeling empty and defeated, Miranda got out of the squad car while Parker held the door.

  “We have an alert out for Nelito,” Gaspar told them through the open window. “If we learn anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Thank you, Inspector.” Parker closed the car door and Gaspar drove off.

  Inside the cottage, Miranda felt her eyes starting to cross. They’d been up since early that morning and it was past one a.m.

  “I think Geninho was telling the truth,” she mumbled, barely able to get the words out.

  “Yes.”

  Unless her bullshit detector was on the blink. “We ought to look for this Nelito guy ourselves,” she said, yawning. “Not wait for Gaspar.”

  Parker looked beat as well. He’d been drugged, to boot. “Let’s get some sleep and talk about it in the morning.” He’d already pulled off his shirt.

  It had been a horrible day. Starting with a near plane crash, continuing with a dead model, and ending with the murder of Rico Dominguez.

  They had worked so hard and gotten nowhere.

  She stripped off her clothes and fell onto the bed without even pulling down the cover. She felt his warm arms slip under her body, turn her over, lift her up and tuck her under the blankets. She wanted to thank him but all that came out was, “Uff.”

  The next thing she felt was the press of his body against hers and his lips on her forehead. They were okay now. Back together. Good.

  She wanted to tell him more but he’d already turned off the light and before she could open her mouth, she was fast asleep.

  ###

  The first thing that got Miranda’s attention the next morning was the smell of coffee.

  She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and saw Parker standing at the end of the bed fully dressed and holding two steaming cups.

  She squinted at him. “Are you sure you want to drink that after yesterday?”

  “I brewed it myself from a sealed packet.”

  She gave him a smirk. “Guess it’s safe then.” She reached for one of the cups and took a sip. Delicious. “I love a man who can make a good cup of coffee.”

  “Good to know.” He sat down on the bed next to her. “I’ve checked on Tia and the girls this morning. They’re all safe, though they had a rough night.”

  “I can imagine.” The cries of last night’s shocking news still echoed in her ears.

  “Tia is insisting on holding a memorial service for Rico tomo
rrow afternoon. She’s already contacted Rico’s family. And Pipia has decided to play in the concert tonight, after all. Tia and Didi want to go.”

  Miranda tensed. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “It depends on how far we get in our quest for Nelito Alves today.” He turned back the covers he’d tucked her under last night. A new day.

  She turned her head and glared at the clock. She blinked. “Am I reading that right? Is it ten already?” She pushed away from him and climbed out of bed. “Why did you let me sleep so late?”

  “You needed it.”

  Panic started to pound in her head. “How the hell are we going to find the guy we’re looking for before that concert? There’s so little time.”

  Parker set his cup on the nightstand and took her by the shoulders. “You won’t be any good if you’re exhausted. We both need to be sharp.”

  He was right. “Okay.” She pulled away from him and ran a hand through her gnarled hair, feeling rushed and irritable. “I’ll take a quick shower and be ready in a jiffy.”

  “By the time you’re finished, my search on Nelito should be done.” Parker’s voice was steady and not in the least rattled.

  She grabbed some clothes and underwear from a drawer. “You’re running him?”

  “As best as I can with the sparse information we have.”

  “Yeah. All right. I won’t be long.” And she hurried off to the bathroom.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Freshly scrubbed and dressed in jeans and a plain cotton shirt, Miranda leaned over Parker’s shoulder to study the data on the screen.

  But his search yielded little more than what they already knew about Nelito Alves.

  A performing arts major at the University of São Paulo, the young man had worked a flurry of short-term jobs around the city while in school, always quitting after a month or so and moving on to something else. He dropped out in his second year to come to Campos do Flores where he was hired by Tia as an assistant groundskeeper to Geninho. Quit end of last May. And according to what Tia had said, planned to hike to someplace called Árvores.

  Not what you’d call the dependable type, but in a way she could relate. She used to live like that, though for far different reasons.

  “While you were showering,” Parker told her. “I tried to contact the young man’s parents.”

  “Oh?” Had he found a history of mental problems?

  “They’ve been separated over five years.”

  “Too bad.” She knew that could mess with your mind.

  “It seems Nelito’s father is a major player in the shoe industry. He’s at a conference in Milan.”

  “Italy?”

  Parker nodded. “And unavailable. The mother lives in Ireland. Also no reply there.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Bummer.”

  Parker pulled up Nelito’s school ID.

  Miranda gave his collarbone a squeeze. “You’re hacking skills are really getting sharp.”

  He reached for her hand. “I try to keep in practice.”

  They both peered at the photo.

  It was a simple head shot. Nelito looked like he’d just woken up from a nap. His dark hair was long and needed combing, his lips twisted in a snide half smirk as if he thought he was above the ID process, and his dark eyes had the exotic look so many Brazilians shared. And yet she caught the glimmer of something in their expression. Neediness? Yearning?

  Her insides chilled. “Didn’t Carlota say Nelito had a crush on Tia?”

  Parker nodded slowly. “She said he adored her.”

  “Could be motive.”

  “Could be.” He held up his phone with the surveillance photo of Juli Torres and her unknown killer, placed it next to the ID still. “Same person?”

  She squinted at the images. “The guy with Torres has shorter hair. But with a haircut, maybe.”

  Parker transferred the ID photo to his phone, turned off the laptop. “We’ll start by searching for him in Árvores. It’s not far. If he indeed hiked there someone may remember him. Perhaps at a barber shop.”

  Sounded like as good a plan as any and what she would have suggested, except…“How are we going to get there?”

  “We’re in luck. I was able to locate a rental car.”

  Hoping nobody had tampered with the brakes on this one, Miranda grabbed a sweater off the couch and hurried toward the door. “Let’s get going then.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The rental was a late model silver blue Fiat Doblo, a small mini-van and very un-Parker-like. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, Miranda supposed as they zoomed once more over the curvy mountain roads.

  The surrounding forest-covered peaks were just as impressive as ever and there didn’t seem to be too many drop-offs on this route. But every time Parker slowed for a pothole her stomach twisted into knots. She was never going to be the same after that brake failure.

  She shook herself out of those thoughts. She needed to focus on the case. They had to use every minute to bring in their suspect before nightfall and Pipia’s concert.

  “We thought,” she began, “or at least I did, that either Geninho or Nelito might be involved with the body in the woods.”

  Parker glanced at her as he navigated a sweeping curve around a massive green peak. “That either the groundskeeper killed the student, or the student killed the groundskeeper.”

  “Yes. But now we know someone, maybe Nelito, killed Rico Dominguez.”

  “Correct.”

  She studied the blue sky where it met the green hills up ahead and forced her brain to concentrate. “Geninho was mad at Rico for leaving Esquecer. Could be reason enough to kill him, for a big guy with a temper.”

  “Rico’s remains had a gash in the back of the skull. His killer may have hit him with a rock or they may have fought and he fell and hit his head.”

  “So his death may have been an accident.” She thought about that. “But why would Geninho start sending the death threats to Tia after that?”

  “Revenge? Anger? To punish her for humiliating him?”

  She thought about that. “He doesn’t seem to be the type to go that route.”

  “No,” Parker agreed.

  The bitter, oversized groundskeeper was the type to walk up and punch you in the face. And he was big enough to do it. “If he wanted to kill Tia, he wouldn’t threaten her first.”

  “He’d just do it.”

  Pretty much eliminated the big guy. “So how about this? Nelito, the happy-go-lucky student quits his job and bops off to this little town we’re heading to.” She gestured out the window.

  “Árvores.”

  “Right. But maybe he’s not so happy-go-lucky. Maybe he’s fixated on Tia. Like Carlota said, he adores her.”

  “All right.”

  “And maybe that adoration grows and grows into some kind of sick obsession.” Feeling like she was onto something, she twisted in her seat to watch Parker’s face. “He can’t stop thinking about her. She invades his every thought. He feels like he’s going crazy. Until—”

  “He decides to do something about it.”

  “So he comes back to Esquecer. Lurks in the woods and watches Tia coming and going on her daily routine. Then he sees her with Valdinho in the restaurant. They’re talking intimately. He goes nuts and starts sending those threatening letters. He’s thinking about killing her but hasn’t worked up the nerve yet.”

  Parker listened, nodding, then frowned. “What about Rico? His body was in the woods at least a month, possibly longer. Nelito would have had to kill him before he saw Tia with Valdinho.”

  “Hmm.” She thought of the decaying corpse they’d found on the mountain and her timeline on the whiteboard last night. Rico was supposed to go to Paris just before the first death threat arrived. Didn’t exactly fit. “And why would Nelito be jealous of Rico if Tia was going to divorce him?”

  “Perhaps he didn’t know of her plans. Perhaps he felt rejected by her in some way.”
r />   “Maybe.” Her head was starting to hurt.

  Parker swept around another curve. “We’ll have to see what we can get out of Nelito when we find him.”

  If they found him. Were they even close to solving this case? Or were they headed down another dead end? Closing her eyes, she laid her head back on the seat cushion and willed an answer to come forth.

  But none did.

  After another twenty minutes, Miranda opened her eyes and saw they were motoring down the narrow street of the quaint little Brazilian village of Árvores.

  Bunched together along the sloping road sat irregularly shaped houses with red clay roofs, a colorful cluster of stucco. Peach and blue and lime. They looked as if they had stood here for many decades, surrounded by rolling farmland and the background of endless green peaks.

  Another perfect picture postcard. Except for the shadow of murder haunting the hills.

  Parker pulled over to the curb, got out and trotted around the car to open her door. As soon as she stepped out, she caught a whiff of farm animals and heard the mooing of cattle in a nearby pasture.

  Heidi she wasn’t, but she’d go where duty called.

  Matching Parker’s stride up the steep walkway, she rubbed her arms against the chilly wind. Nothing was flat in a mountain town. “Where are we heading?”

  He gestured to a sign over the door of a bright yellow building up ahead. “Casa de Vinhos.”

  “A pub?” she guessed.

  “Most likely place to find a university student with a fondness for wine. Plus it lets out rooms upstairs.” He stopped to open the door for her.

  “Let’s hope your hunch is right,” she murmured as she stepped inside.

  The place was dark and had a musty smell. The décor was simple wood paneling with lots of neon beer signs. A bartender stood wiping down surfaces at the far end of the bar. Hardly any customers at the tables. Not that you’d expect many before noon. A lone man at the bar sat nursing a stein.

  As Miranda’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, she felt her jaw drop when she recognized him.

  She glanced at Parker. He seemed as shocked as she was.