by Holly Plum
No, Steve went to China. He had a picture to prove it. Mari felt a sort of quiet sadness when she realized that Steve's trip was around the time she had turned him down for prom. Had he gone to China to get away from her? Of course, Steve would have never talked about it in front of her because it had been an embarrassing subject.
“Maybe I was all wrong about Steve?” Mari said to Tabasco, who looked up at her with big curious eyes. "Maybe I should have given him a chance?" She exhaled loudly. "Or maybe I'm talking crazy because it's so late?"
Mari shook her head, trying to get rid of the regrets that haunted her. How had she never known Steve had spoken a second language? And now, as it happened, that little fact could end up being the key to the whole mystery.
Mari tried calling David again. When the phone went to voicemail, she left a message.
“David, it's me,” Mari said. “Listen. I just found out that Steve spent a year in China, and could speak the language too. Crazy, right? I think the murderer might be Mr. Chun. I think he might have killed him because…I don’t know. Anyway, call me back as soon as you get this.”
Mari wasn’t sure the last part of her message had been clear because Tabasco had started barking about halfway through. He was watching the back door and baring his teeth. This was unusual behavior from him. Tabasco didn’t bark unless there was something or someone to bark at.
Mari gulped, her heart pounding. Once again she was alone in an empty building, and unarmed. She had been in this situation too many times in the last couple of days for her liking.
Mari was tempted to make a run for the car, but curiosity, and a certain stubbornness compelled her. Was there really someone outside or did Tabasco see things? Mari didn't know. Moving as quietly as she could into the kitchen, she crouched low behind a counter and waited. If it were nothing, she would have peace of mind. But if it were someone, her nosiness would have put her in harm's way yet again.
A flashlight shot out of the darkness. Footsteps sounded on the gravel in the back parking lot and echoed all the way into the kitchen. The footsteps came closer and closer, eventually entering the restaurant. Mari wasn't alone anymore. Mari slowly reached up and opened a drawer, drawing out a long knife.
Wild thoughts darted through Mari's mind as she sat there cradling the knife in one hand. Maybe it was a staff member? Mari rubbed her forehead and reminded herself that none of them would have broken in through the back entrance. If it were Chrissy coming to collect something she had forgotten, she would have knocked or called her first.
Rising slowly from her hiding place, Mari called for Tabasco. As soon as the dog came to her, Mari panicked and shut the kitchen doors. She immediately locked them as she thought of barricading herself inside for the night. Not even a hot plate of Carne Asada could save her now.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BOOM!
Someone pounded on the kitchen door.
BOOM!
The culprit tried kicking the door open. Whoever it was possessed a savage energy, and there was no telling what the intruder might do next. Mari cringed at each bang that rang through her ears.
With one shaky hand, Mari called the police. With the other, she tried to silence Tabasco whose barking threatened to drown out her words completely.
“Yes, this is Mari Ramirez,” Mari shouted into the phone. “I’m at Lito Bueno’s Mexican Restaurant and someone just broke into the restaurant. I’m alone. Please, hurry!”
The dispatcher said police were on their way. Mari hung up and texted her parents.
The pounding continued. Whoever was out there was determined to get to Mari. She prayed that the intruder wouldn't attempt to get in through one of the kitchen windows. She had accidentally broken one playing softball with some friends when she was seven, and it hadn't been difficult.
BOOM!
The noise was like a battering ram breaking down the walls of a medieval castle. Plates shook. Paintings swung precariously on the walls where they hung.
Mari regretted not running for her dad’s office instead of the kitchen. The office had a lock and no windows. Mari might have had a better chance at keeping the intruder away from her in that room. Of course, they weren't any kitchen knives in the office.
Tabasco continued with his barking until the pounding outside of the door suddenly stopped. For a moment, the air was deadly still. And then Mari heard the sound of shoes on gravel.
Mari gasped as light illuminated a kitchen window in front of her. Instinctively she closed her eyes, as though preparing for a loud noise and shattered glass.
The flashlight moved on, leaving darkness behind it, and the footsteps receded into the distance.
Sirens were approaching.
Mari was safe. For now.
***
Mari made a pot of tea for herself and Detective Price. She held the mug in her hands, drinking slowly, struggling to calm herself down.
“I think I know who it was,” Mari said shakily. “I think I know who broke in. And possibly who murdered Steve.”
“Who do you think it was?” Detective Price asked with evident skepticism.
Mari took a deep breath before saying, “It was Mr. Chun.” Her voice sounded panicky, and her words came out rushed. “I know because Steve once went to China, and he could speak fluent Chinese. Something was going on between them although I don't know what."
She felt herself slowly deflating. The words had sounded so much more convincing in her own head. Now Mari felt like an idiot. The blood ran into her face.
“I will keep that in mind,” Detective Price responded as he placed his ever-present notepad back in his shirt pocket. “In the meantime, I suggest you go home and get some rest.”
“But aren’t you even going to look into it?” Mari asked, upset that he had seemed to brush aside her theory.
“Look, I'll be honest with you." Detective Price glanced in her direction. “I have no idea if Mr. Chun tried to break in tonight, but I can assure you he didn’t murder Steve Wilson. He was at home that entire morning. His wife has vouched for him. Mr. Chun has a solid alibi.”
Mari wanted to protest. Of course, Mr. Chun's wife would vouch for her husband. They were obviously in cahoots with each other. But Mari kept her mouth shut, knowing that there wasn't much else she could say. She had no solid evidence.
There was a knock on the door of the office, and Detective Price stood to open it. It was Mrs. Ramirez. The moment Paula saw her daughter, she hugged her tight.
“You have no idea how worried I was,” Paula said. “You have no idea how worried your father is. He wanted to come down here himself, but I told him I would handle it. I haven’t seen him so distressed in ages. He wasn’t even this scared when he thought he might lose his business.”
Mari planted herself deeper into her mother’s embrace.
“Do you want some hot chocolate?” said Mrs. Ramirez asked her daughter. “I’ll make you Abuela's specialty.”
Mari knew that hot chocolate was her mother’s way of showing love, and she couldn't refuse.
“We’ll have a drink,” Paula said. “Then I'll take you home.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mari was feeling rattled by the time her mother escorted her home. In the last couple of days, an intruder had broken into Steve’s office while she was searching it, and someone had tried to break into the restaurant. Mari was beginning to wonder if maybe she was cursed.
“Stay with me, please,” Mari said to her mom as they stood in the living room together.
“I have to get home to your father,” said Mrs. Ramirez replied. “Just keep the door locked and let Tabasco stand guard for the night.”
"Okay." Mari sighed.
When her mother had left, Mari didn't even bother changing into her pajamas. She stared at herself in the mirror for what felt like hours as she brushed her teeth. She double checked her front door a few times before crashing into her bed.
Mari couldn’t help feeling that the police were
being singularly unhelpful. Detective Price had stood there pretending to listen as she'd presented what she had discovered about Steve and how it could have been related to Mr. Chun. But the detective was still hung up on Mari's father. The scales of justice in this town were weighted against her dad and his restaurant.
Up until now the hardest moment of Mari's life had been coming home after breaking off her engagement and trying to start over. But even in doing that there had been a measure of peace. She had been welcomed by her family. Her life hadn't been in danger, and no one had been trying to kill her. Steve’s death had ended all that.
Mari figured that Steve's ghost was somewhere now smiling at her misfortune.
Tabasco leaped up on the bed, his fawn and white face pointed at the bedroom door. He bared his teeth in a menacing fashion. When Mari put down a hand to silence him, she felt the tension in his body.
“Tabasco, hush,” she pleaded, but he barked louder and louder.
And then she heard a banging on her front door.
Mari got out of bed, her boldness increasing with each step she took. Unlocking the door of her bedroom and flipping on the light, she glared at her front door.
"I suppose the time has come, Tabasco," she whispered, her voice quivering. "This is what I get for trying to help."
A chill ran down Mari's spine as she looked through her peephole and saw nothing. Her front porch was empty. A cool breeze rushed across her arms, and Mari noticed that a window had been opened. She jumped as a laugh came from shadows. A figure stepped into the light. It was Desh, Mr. Chun's nephew.
“Three break-ins in two days,” Mari said as calmly as she could, realizing too late that she had no weapon to defend herself. “And finally we meet face-to-face. Again.”
“I thought I would drop by,” Desh responded.
It was the first time she had heard him speak English. He wasn’t bad at it.
“You speak pretty good English for someone who only speaks Chinese,” Mari commented. “But I know practicing your English isn’t the real reason you’re here.”
“You’re right about that,” Desh said with a smirk on his face. He glared at Tabasco as he continued to bark. “I have other items of business to tend to tonight." He held up a slender object. Mari’s heart jolted into her throat as she realized it was a knife.
“So you did kill Steve Wilson,” Mari said, trying to appear calm while she thought of a plan.
“Yes,” Desh proudly replied. “My you have many questions.”
“I don't get it,” Mari continued, eyeing her kitchen sink. "Why Steve? Did you even know him?"
“Not really,” he replied. “But the idiot got in my way and even tried blackmailing me.”
Mari stared at him, puzzled.
"What for?"
Tabasco kept himself in between Desh and Mari as Desh slowly inched forward.
“That's my business,” Desh said. “I couldn't let my uncle find out what I've been doing at his restaurant, or he would put a stop to it. That's why Steve had to go. He wanted my money and my dignity."
“He did need the money.” Mari clenched her fists tight.
Suddenly, Tabasco lunged forward, biting Desh's leg. He howled in pain. Seizing her opportunity, Mari ran through the living room, pushing past him. He made a weak attempt to grab her, but she brushed him aside and kept running.
Mari slammed the door behind her to buy herself a few seconds. She then ran down the stairs two at a time and bounded off into the dark streets.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mari sprinted down the street. She heard the sound of footsteps rattling down the concrete stairs that led to her apartment stairs behind her.
As long as she stayed on the main road and in the glow of the street lamps, Mari knew she had a better chance of surviving. Desh was quick, and already he seemed to be gaining on her. Her best chance was to alert the neighborhood to the fact that she was being attacked.
“HELP! HELP!” Mari shouted, panic overpowering the sense of embarrassment she felt. “PLEASE, HELP!”
Lights began flickering on throughout the apartment complex. Doors opened, and random strangers poked their heads into the night to see what was going on.
“CALL THE POLICE!” Mari yelled with her last ounce of breath.
There was no use continuing to run. Mari was already winded, and Desh was just a few yards behind. She would have to use her smarts to outwit him and keep herself alive until help came.
Mari let out a yell and swung around just as Desh caught up to her. She punched him in the face and sent him staggering backward. Desh grabbed his nose with one hand, looking disappointed that Mari had temporarily disarmed him. The punch seemed to have surprised Desh more than anything.
At that moment, a blue Honda Civic pulled up beside Mari. Its tires screeched, and Mari smiled. To her immense relief, the doors flew open, and David and Alex leaped out.
“I think we’ve had about enough of you,” David said, grabbing Desh by the collar.
“You’ll have to tell us what the food’s like in prison,” Alex added, kneeing him firmly in the stomach for good measure. Desh winced in pain and doubled over. "On second thought, I don't want to know unless they've got chimichangas."
The back door on the passenger's side of the car opened, and Mateo stepped out. He looked remarkably alert as if the prospect of catching a murderer had suddenly woken him from the lethargy in which he normally operated. “Are you going to tell her or should I?" Mateo looked from David to Alex.
“Fine,” Alex responded, placing one arm around Mateo. “We suspected someone was dealing drugs out of the Lucky Noodle, so we got Mateo to help us out. He posed as a high-schooler looking to score some dope, and it worked. Desh here hasn’t been around long enough to know that he works for us.”
"And he's stupid," David added to Alex's explanation.
“Anything to help a friend,” Mateo chimed in. “Wouldn't want the police pinning it on your family's restaurant. Creeps like Desh do that sort of thing all the time.”
“Which must have been what Steve knew.” Mari sighed. “That was the information that got him killed." To her great surprise, Desh spoke up.
“He was threatening to expose the entire operation,” Desh shouted in a venomous voice. “He kept taunting me, in Chinese, about the money he was going to squeeze out of me. I made the mistake of talking about what I was up to while he was nearby. How was I supposed to know that he spoke Chinese?’”
“He needed the money,” said Mari explained. “He would have done anything to keep his business from going under. I guess that's exactly what he did. Steve heard Desh talking about his illegal side business, and Steve saw it as his opportunity to make some dough.”
By now a crowd had gathered around them. People came in their robes and slippers to gawk at the scene in front of them. David had his arms wrapped tightly around Desh as though he were giving him a hug. Mari explained the story again for the benefit of her new audience as Alex called the police.
“They’re almost here,” Alex said, hanging up the phone. “Apparently they’ve already received calls from about a dozen people.”
Mateo came toward Mari and inhaled sharply, looking a bit bashful. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for being weird lately. I’ve actually enrolled in night school for the last couple of months. I didn’t want to tell y’all because I didn’t want to jeopardize my job.”
“But why have you been coming in early when you didn’t have to?” Mari asked.
“To make up for all the lost time,” Mateo said, turning crimson. “Plus, I was kind of hoping you’d notice.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
One week later, Mari’s family and fellow staff members threw an enormous party at Lito Bueno’s Mexican Restaurant. Four tables had been pushed together in the center of the room, and on them was spread a festive red and white tablecloth. The tables were filled with silver trays of roasted shrimp, homemade flour and corn tortillas, shredded pork, ch
imichangas, green peppers stuffed with cheese and cilantro, grilled corn, and lime steak tortas. Mari piled her plate high with guacamole, chips, and roasted salsa.
At the center of each table in the dining room stood a vase with a colorful flower arrangement. Paper flowers on strings hung from the rafters and bright serapes of red, green, and purple covered each wall. Cactus candlesticks and lemonade pitchers lined the bar. Even Mari’s dad had gotten into the spirit of the occasion, wearing a striped green scarf, while Mari had dressed Tabasco in a multicolored poncho.
“I don’t like that dog, Mari,” Mari’s Abuela said in Spanish as the dining hall began to swell with people.
“He’s really not that bad,” Mari replied. “He's a sweetheart once you get to know him."
“Yes, but he slobbers.” She made a face of disgust. “I can’t stand it when dogs slobber.”
“Babies slobber all over the place," Alex chimed in.
“Babies are cute," Mari's Abuela stated in Spanish.
Mari laughed.
“Honestly it’s a wonder he hasn’t run away,” her Abuela went on, “the way the back door keeps being left open.”
Mari fixed her with a shrewd look. “Have you been leaving the back door open, Abuela?”
Her Abuela just laughed and walked away.
“Grandmothers,” Alex commented, taking a huge bite of a bean burrito smothered in queso. The queso dripped down his chin. “Cheers, family. Desh has been taken into custody, we found a new meat delivery man, and Dad is a free bird.”
“Plus, business is booming,” Mari reminded the group. “We might have to open another restaurant just to seat everyone.”
Mateo came over and placed his hand snugly in Mari’s. “I’ll drink to that."
“I’d like to propose a toast,” José Ramirez said, lightly tapping his glass. “To Lito Bueno’s, the best Mexican restaurant in town.”
