Bruja Brouhaha

by Rochelle Staab

  “We know Victor, or someone pretending to be Victor, called Bernie Gates this morning,” Nick said.

  “Dave, I’m beginning to think Lucia may be the target of a scam. Maybe through Cansino,” I said.

  “You mean Cansino working with Victor Morales? That’s a wild assumption,” Dave said.

  “Well, something strange is going on,” I said. “Can you trace Lucia’s incoming calls? We have to locate Victor or whoever is impersonating him.”

  “If someone is impersonating him,” Nick said.

  “I can’t get a warrant to trace her phone based on a feeling. Lucia has to give the phone company approval,” Dave said.

  “I’ll get her approval,” Nick said. “I’m on my way to talk to Lucia now. The caretaker could be in on the scam, too. She lied about her references. Dave, would you see if you could find an address on her? Her name is Cruz DeSoto.”

  “Hold on.” Dave came back on the line, laughing. “There are about two hundred Cruz DeSotos in Los Angeles. At least thirty in Westlake.”

  “What about Boyle Heights?” I said.

  “Twenty or twenty-five. Sorry,” Dave said. “I need more than a name to track her down.”

  “I’m going to the clinic,” I said. “I’ll see if Carmen has a copy of Cruz’s employment application.”

  “Did you tell Bailey about the note you found in the Suarez apartment yet?” Dave said.

  “No.”

  “Pick up the damn phone and call him like I told you to last night. Do it. And try to restrain yourself from playing detective. You already have a job,” Dave said with a sharp bite of sarcasm.

  Some joke. If Erica Gates cost me my license, I could be hunting for a new job along with a new home.

  Nick hung up and drove up the ramp to the street. He turned left onto Wilshire Boulevard. As I scanned through my recent calls for Bailey’s number, my phone rang.

  “Liz? It’s Matt Bailey.”

  “Bailey? I was about to call you.”

  Bailey’s reply came short and clipped. “I want to talk to you about Teresa Suarez. Where will you be this afternoon?”

  “I’m in Westlake right now with Nick, on my way to Park Clinic.”

  “Meet me outside Park Clinic in an hour. Why were you calling me? Did Morales show up?”

  “No. But I might have new information about him and maybe Paco Rojas. I’ll tell you when I see you,” I said. Nick tossed me a disapproving look as I hung up. “What? I’m not confessing unlawful entry to a cop over the phone.”

  “Learn that from TV?”

  “No. At the family dinner table.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The Park Clinic mini-mall hummed with lunchtime action. Cars moved through the lot, Tattoo Neck and his friends loafed at their usual post, and laborers ambled toward the restaurant. Nick found an open space close to the street and we agreed to meet at Park Clinic after he stopped to visit Lucia.

  Miguel met me at the clinic door. I thanked him for the tip on Ynez. “She told me she saw Victor’s car in the lot after midnight on Wednesday. How late did you work that night?”

  “Wednesday?” He looked up at the ceiling. “Let’s see. I always lock the front door when we close at five, then I check the exam rooms, the dispensary, and clean up the kitchen in the back. I guess I went home right before six.”

  “Was anybody still here when you left?”

  “Sure. The usual crowd. Helen and the interns always work late. So do the doctors, though Dr. Perez and Dr. Morales didn’t come back after the wake. At least not before I left.”

  “Are there security cameras?”

  “Nope. But there’s an alarm.”

  The alarm couldn’t show me the cars outside, anyone left inside, or a record of Victor entering or leaving. I thanked Miguel and crossed to the reception desk. Jackson, decked out in bright lime green, chattered on the phone. When I caught her eye, she thumbed over her shoulder. “They’re in Dr. Perez’s office.”

  I didn’t wait to ask her who “they” were. When I entered the office I found Carmen, Tony Torrico, and my mother, with man I didn’t know. He was in his late forties or early fifties, in a khaki sport coat over a denim shirt. The group circled Carmen’s desk, studying a scroll of blue and white drawings.

  Carmen gestured me in and introduced the stranger as Bob Warnecke, the contractor for the clinic’s plumbing upgrade. Our polite greetings were interrupted by Bob’s cell phone.

  He looked at the screen. “Will you excuse me for a moment? I have to take this outside. I’ll be right back.”

  Tony glanced up from the papers. “The plans look good to me, Carmen. I think we should approve them and move ahead.”

  “Should Victor see them first?” Mom said.

  “I’d like him to, but Tony may be right. Bob needs time to organize a construction timetable. I can’t guarantee when Victor will be back,” Carmen said, her tone edged with worry. “This morning I heard that Victor might have been calling Lucia all along.”

  “So he’s not missing after all? He’s just not coming to work? I don’t like that.” Tony glanced into the hall, then turned back and lowered his voice. “I hate to say it, Carmen, but maybe you should check the clinic financials before we proceed.”

  “The financials are solid. The money for construction is funded in a separate account.” Carmen tilted her head to the door and shot Tony a warning glance.

  “Carmen, you’ve been dreaming about this upgrade for years. The donors will expect to see work begin,” Mom said as Bob came back into the office.

  “You’re smart to move ahead with the renovations now, before the neighborhood expands.” Bob rolled the papers into a tube and secured them with a rubber band.

  “How do you mean expands?” I said.

  “I’m hearing strong rumors about parking structures and new businesses planned because of the MTA Westside Extension. Good for the whole area around the clinic, I think.”

  “Are you talking about the Subway to the Sea?” Mom said.

  “Yep. The city is investing billions,” Bob said. “An extension to the ocean will affect every neighborhood close to the MTA stations. Property values tripled after the station down the block was built.”

  “Including the building across the street?” I said.

  “The old two-story? In between the empty lots?” Bob cocked his head in the direction of Botanica Rojas. “Yeah. I understand a parking structure or condos with a mall at the base will go up as soon as developers clear the block. I’d like to be in on that deal.”

  “What if the owner won’t sell?” I said.

  “They’ll sell. There’s too much money involved.” Bob checked his watch then slid the tube of papers under his arm. “Sorry, I have to leave. I’m late for my next meeting.”

  Mom offered to escort him to the lobby. I backed into the hall to let them pass. They left together, with Mom chattering about tile colors.

  Tony paused in Carmen’s doorway. “Do you want me to sit in for your interview with Dr. Ashworth this afternoon?”

  “Yes. I think you’ll like her. She just finished her residency. I think she’ll fit in well. She’ll relieve you of some of the patient load. I can’t thank you enough, Tony.”

  “Please.” Tony held up his palm. “You have a great staff. Everyone pitched in. The patients come first. The clinic will thrive. The plans for the showers and plumbing are good.” He brushed past me in the hall and went into his office next door.

  Carmen buried her head in her hands at her desk. “Victor, where are you? Teresa promised we’d be protected. I don’t know what to do.”

  Protected? The facts clicked into place: Teresa’s “friends” posted outside the clinic every day. The way they responded to her orders. How could I be so naïve?

  “Carmen.” I put my hand on her shoulder.

  She shrugged me off and sat up. “I’m all right, sweetie.”

  “You paid Teresa for gang protection,” I said. “Why didn’t y
ou say something?”

  She pulled a tissue from the box on the corner of her desk, pretending not to hear me. “Where did your mother go?”

  I slid into the chair facing her. “I should have known when I saw Teresa’s earnings. Despite the gang problems in the neighborhood, Park Clinic was never touched. No graffiti, no broken windows, no stolen equipment.”

  Her eyes shot up. “We had to. For our safety.”

  “Had to what?” Mom appeared at the office door with Nick.

  “Carmen and Victor paid protection money to the gangs. Teresa was the middleman,” I said.

  “You told her?” Mom said to Carmen.

  “You knew?” I said.

  “Anyone who watches television knows about extortion. Of course she and Victor paid for protection. Every business around here does. And the correct term is bagman, dear, not middleman,” Mom said.

  I should watch more TV.

  “I can’t deal with this anymore without Victor,” Carmen said. “Maybe we should call off the fund-raiser.”

  “Good Lord, Carmen, no,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Pull yourself together. We can’t cancel. We collected money. The guests, caterers, and orchestra are coming in a few hours. Everything was perfect until that woman hexed everyone. Nick, do something.”

  Nick closed the office door behind him. “Lucia means no harm to the clinic, Viv.”

  “Well, she’s not exactly performing a ‘Success Spell’ or a ‘Find Victor Spell’ for us either.”

  “Want to stop the bad luck, Mom? Stop believing in it.” I turned to Carmen. “When did the extortion start?”

  “Carlos Suarez, Teresa’s husband, came to Victor years ago after the first incident,” she said. “We knew the trouble he could cause us, and agreed that bending to Carlos’s demand was safer than fighting him. We paid him out of petty cash. After he was sent to jail, Teresa went to Victor and told him if we hired her, the protection would continue.”

  “Why a job? Why not just collect the cash?” Nick said.

  “Despite her involvement, I think Teresa wanted to escape gang life. The clerical job here gave her some experience for her résumé. I don’t know how we’ll handle protection for the clinic now. And with Teresa dead, I don’t know how long Lucia will have protection either.”

  “Lucia?” Nick said.

  “They lowered Teresa’s rent in exchange for protection,” Carmen said. “Teresa bartered a deal with Lucia.”

  “While Paco campaigned against the gangs?” I said.

  “Paco could say what he wanted as long as the gang collected their money,” Carmen said. “The elder gang members are wary of Lucia. Her reputation as a bruja keeps them in check. But what’s news to you today, Liz, is common knowledge on the street. The gang members outside really do watch out for us. I honestly don’t think the local gang is involved with Victor’s disappearance.”

  Her phone rang before I could tell her about Victor’s morning call to Bernie Gates. Carmen answered, frowning as she listened. She put the caller on hold and said to us, “Will you excuse me? I need to finish this call in private.”

  * * *

  “Cocktails at seven,” Mom said as Nick and I accompanied her to her car. “Dinner at seven thirty, speeches at eight, and dancing until eleven. I want you there at six thirty.”

  “We’ll be there. Save me a dance,” Nick said.

  I swore I saw Mom blushing when she got into her car and left.

  “Did you find out anything from Lucia?” I said to Nick.

  “She knew all about Bernie’s call on Friday. Cruz gave her the message, and Lucia relayed it to Victor, or whoever called her Friday night.”

  “The mystery man,” I said. “Seriously, Nick, how does Victor disappear from home, work, and his friends, but stay conscientious enough to call Lucia? It doesn’t add up.”

  “She refuses to believe Victor is missing. I can’t fault her thinking. After all, he calls her.”

  “And tells her he’s with Paco. Conscientious and cruel at the same time,” I said, opening the clinic door. We found two empty chairs in the corner and sat down to wait for Bailey to show outside.

  “When I asked Lucia why Victor didn’t come to see her as promised, I saw doubt in her eyes. That gave me an opening. I persuaded her to approve a trace on her incoming calls.” Nick sat back and grinned. “If Lucia gets a call tonight, we’ll have the number tomorrow.”

  “Excellent. Nice work. Does Cruz know?”

  “No. Lucia and I talked in the back room of the botanica. Cruz was—”

  “Don’t tell me.” I smirked. “Out in front, watching TV?”

  “Right. I also asked Lucia if Victor gave her Cruz’s résumé. She asked him to keep it for her. Did you see it in Victor’s desk Saturday night?”

  “No. But I wasn’t really searching for it. And I didn’t have an opportunity to ask Carmen.” I stood up. “I’ll go talk to her now.”

  * * *

  I found Carmen outside the open Dutch door to the dispensary, clipboard in hand. “Do you have a minute? Father Nuncio gave Nick and me an interesting bit of information this morning.”

  “What’s that?” Carmen didn’t look up. She scribbled her signature on a form and handed the clipboard to the dispensary nurse. Waving for me to follow, she started toward her office.

  “He doesn’t know Cruz DeSoto,” I said. “He never met her until she introduced herself at the wake. We should review her application. Cruz lied to Victor. I don’t trust her.”

  “I’m certain Victor told me Father Nuncio recommended her.” Carmen stopped outside Tony’s office door. “You didn’t see Cruz’s application when you went through Victor’s office the other night? It wasn’t in the file with the Realtor letters to Paco?”

  “I wasn’t looking for it,” I said.

  Her response was curt. “You saw everything else.”

  “Do you mind if I go through his files again?”

  “I do mind.” She crossed her arms. “In fact, you and I need to talk. Privately.”

  We turned into her office. She shut the door. “Sit down, Dr. Cooper.”

  I took a seat and shifted, nervous. “What is it, Carmen?”

  “Erica Gates called me. An extremely angry Erica Gates. Were you at her husband’s office this morning?”

  “Yes.” My stomach lurched. “Nick and I went together. But our visit to Gates Realty had nothing to do with Erica. We thought if Bernie could tell us why Paco and Lucia’s building was so interesting to buyers we’d have a clue to Paco’s murder or Victor’s disappearance. Erica got to the office as Nick and I were leaving. She was already annoyed.” I described the morning run-in with Nick. The more I tried to explain, the sicker I felt. “Nick didn’t know who Erica was at the bakery. I attempted to mediate but when we left, she was upset. When she saw me at Bernie’s, she was livid.”

  Carmen shook her head. “Did you even consider Erica might be at Gates Realty before you went there? That Bernie might ask how you knew his wife? Last night on the phone, you were concerned about your professional obligation to Teresa, yet today you ignored Erica’s right to privacy as a member of the Wellness Group. You put Erica and yourself in an awkward and potentially embarrassing position. She wants your license revoked.”

  “Carmen, Bernie doesn’t know Erica is my client. He didn’t ask how we knew each other.”

  “He didn’t ask her in front of you.” She rubbed her forehead. “I can’t brush this off. She’s prepared to file a complaint with the California Board of Psychology.”

  “She doesn’t have grounds.”

  “She still has the right to file. The state board would weigh your word against hers. Your ethics would be under scrutiny.”

  Regardless of the outcome, an unprofessional conduct complaint would be in my file, permanently. I took a deep breath to ease the panicked qualm in my chest. “I could talk to Erica again. Apologize.”

  “You’ll only exacerbate the problem. This couldn’t have hap
pened at a worse time, Liz. Until I have time to sort this out, consider the Wellness Group on hiatus. Take a break. I want you to keep away from the clinic for a while.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  I left Carmen’s office downhearted and upset. Juanita and Ruby would be turned away when they came to the Wellness session on Saturday. I hated letting them down. I hated letting Carmen down. Although confident I didn’t breach my ethics, I certainly dallied with them over the last two days in efforts to find Victor and help Lucia.

  Nick smiled at me when I reached the lobby. “Well?”

  “Let’s talk somewhere else.”

  As we walked outside I twirled Lucia’s protection bracelet around my wrist—as if a spell would help save my reputation. I wasn’t that desperate yet.

  “So, did you find Cruz’s application?” Nick said.

  “Carmen wouldn’t let me into Victor’s office. In fact, as of right now, I’m persona non grata at the clinic.” I closed his gaping mouth with the tip of my finger. “An angry client called in a complaint about me to Carmen. If she presses the matter, my license could be revoked. I can’t tell you any more than that, Nick. I crossed too many professional boundaries today already.”

  He studied my face. “You don’t have to explain. I think I can guess.”

  “Reading my mind?”

  “Nope. Minds are your specialty. However, I recall a furious housewife you’ve ‘seen around’ who stomped on your aura this morning following your reluctance to visit her husband. I apologize for not listening when you told me you didn’t want to see Bernie. I’m sorry.”

  “Very perceptive, but I should have stayed in the car. And I still can’t give you details. Carmen doesn’t know about Victor’s call to Gates yet. Maybe we’re chasing an illusion. Maybe Victor isn’t missing after all. He could be home using a prepaid phone for all we know.”

  “We could drive to Victor’s house and check, but Bailey just pulled in.” Nick waved at the detective driving into the lot.