“The husband?” Tammy asked.
“Ain’t it always?” Savannah shook her head. “Any woman dies, you look at her significant other. A married woman dies with her lover, you just about know it’s gonna be the husband.”
“And he would know the property better than anybody other than maybe Helene herself,” Dirk added. “So, he’d know where the breaker box was.”
Savannah nodded. “And being a handyman, he’d probably know a little about electricity.”
“Not to mention,” Dirk said, “that nobody’s seen him since before his wife met her nasty end.”
Savannah nodded. “Oh, yeah. We’ve just gotta lay hands on Mr. Tiago … have a little talk with him.”
“Hey, did you hear that?” Tammy asked.
“Hear what?” Then Savannah heard it, too. Through the trees … the puttering of a vehicle’s out-of-tune engine coming toward them, then passing and heading on, the sound dying away.
“That’s going toward the gardener’s cottage,” Savannah said.
But Dirk was already on his way.
Savannah and Tammy scrambled down the forest path after him.
As they hurried through the woods and passed the chicken coop, they startled the birds, who squawked and flapped their wings.
“Damn chickens,” Dirk said. But he kept running, Savannah and Tammy right behind him.
A few moments later, they entered the backyard of the gardener’s cottage. Savannah felt a rush of excitement when she saw an old, rusty pickup beside the house … and Tiago getting out of it.
As they approached, he turned, and looked surprised to see them. But not as surprised as Savannah was to see him … especially, his face.
“Holy cow,” she said to Dirk. “Looks like our number one suspect got his clock cleaned by somebody who knew how to do it!”
With his two black and swollen eyes, the bumps and bruises on his forehead, and his fat lip, the gardener was the most unhappy-looking guy Savannah had laid eyes on in a long time.
And if, perchance, he didn’t kill his wayward wife and doesn’t know she’s dead, Savannah thought as they caught up with him at the front door of his house, he’s about to become even more so.
Chapter 14
If there was one thing Savannah knew about Dirk, it was that he hated notifications.
And she couldn’t blame him. One of the worst aspects of being a law enforcement officer was having to inform people of the passing of their loved ones—almost always under tragic circumstances.
If the relative was female, Dirk could hardly bring himself to do it at all. Savannah had performed the hated task for him many times over the years. Not that it bothered her any less than it did him. But she knew she was better at it.
When it was a male who was the recipient of the bad news, Dirk could handle it better.
So, she left this one to him. And he waded right in.
“Tiago, my man,” he said, when they intercepted him on the front porch of his cottage. “We gotta talk.”
Tiago looked like the last thing in the world he wanted to do was converse with anyone. He shook his head and held up one hand. “I can’t talk right now. I’m sick. I need to sleep.”
“Yeah, looks like you were on the bad end of a bad tussle,” Dirk said. “You wanna tell us about that?”
“Not really. I want to take a shower and go to bed.”
He put his hand on the doorknob, but Dirk reached out and put his hand on his shoulder. “Tiago, mi amigo, have a seat over there.”
Dirk pointed to a wicker rocking chair on the porch and gently pushed him toward it.
He resisted at first, but Dirk gave him a look that strongly suggested he should comply.
“Okay,” he said. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing against the law.”
“I didn’t say you did,” Dirk told him.
“I just had a little fight with my brother. And I got the worst of it, so it’s no one’s business but my family’s.”
“What was the fight about?” Savannah couldn’t resist asking as Tiago sank into the rocking chair.
He gave her a wary look. “Nothing important. We just drank too much, and we fought, and it’s over now.”
“When and where did this fight take place?”
“Last night, about nine o’clock, at El Lobo Loco.”
“Is that a bar?”
“Yes. A bar in La Rosita. Why are you asking me this? It was just a fight between brothers.”
“What’s your brother’s name?” she asked.
“Sergio … Sergio Medina.”
“Does he live in La Rosita?”
Tiago nodded. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”
“Because,” Dirk said, “we’re gonna have to talk to him, to make sure you were where you say you were.”
“Why?” Tiago looked at Dirk through swollen eyes, then at Savannah, and back at Dirk. “Something’s wrong,” he said. “Why are you here? Why are you talking to me?”
Dirk drew a deep breath. “We got some bad news for you, buddy.”
“What bad news? Is Miss Helene okay? She’s not …?”
“No. She’s fine.” Dirk put his hand on the man’s forearm. “It’s Blanca.”
Tiago leaped to his feet and headed for the front door. “Where is she? What’s wrong with her?”
He threw the door to the cottage open and stepped inside. “Blanca!” he yelled. “Blanca! Donde estas?”
Savannah hurried after him and intercepted him in the living room. “Tiago,” she said, grabbing him by the arm. “She isn’t here.”
“Where is she?” he said, his black, swollen eyes wild. “Where is my wife?”
“She’s gone. I’m so sorry, Tiago. She’s muerto. She’s dead.”
“No!” He pushed her away and ran into the kitchen, then the bedroom and bathroom. “Blanca!”
Savannah waited quietly for him to complete his futile search, her heart aching.
She looked back at the doorway, where Dirk and Tammy stood, their expressions as dark as the emotions washing through her.
Finally, Tiago returned to her, tears streaming down his face.
“What happened to her?” he demanded to know. “What happened to my wife?”
“She died in the spa,” Savannah told him, knowing she was about to make his hell even worse.
He looked totally confused. “The spa? What? She fell into the spa?”
“She was in the water. Taking a hot tub.”
“She never does that.”
“She did last night.”
Dirk walked into the room and stood between her and Tiago. “This is gonna be hard for you to hear, man,” he said softly. “But you’re gonna find out sooner or later. Blanca wasn’t alone in the hot tub.”
“Who? Who was with her? Helene?”
“No. It was Vern,” Dirk said. “Vern Oldham.”
Savannah could feel the wave of rage that swept through the young man. It seemed like a palpable force that filled the room.
“Blanca was in the tub with Vern?” he asked, his voice shaking, his fists clenched. “My wife and Vern?”
“Yes,” Dirk said.
“And he killed her? He killed my Blanca?”
“No,” Savannah said. “He died, too. They were found in the tub, and both of them had already passed. I’m really sorry, Tiago.”
Suddenly, Tiago turned and ran across the room and out the front door, nearly knocking Tammy off her feet as he passed her.
They hurried after him, but when they saw he wasn’t heading for his truck, but down the path into the woods, Savannah said, “Leave him alone. Give him a few minutes.”
“But he’s our prime suspect,” Dirk protested. “I wanna know where he’s going.”
“I know where he’s going.” She watched as Tiago disappeared among the trees. “He’s like everyone else who hears that someone they love has died suddenly, unexpectedly. He has to see the place where it happened. He has to be there and
try to feel what she felt … no matter how much it hurts.”
Half an hour later, Savannah found Tiago exactly where she thought he would be, sitting on the edge of the spa, staring into the tub.
The CSI team had emptied it and strained the water, searching for evidence, but the look on Tiago’s face couldn’t have been any more somber than if he were seeing his wife there inside the enclosure.
She approached him slowly, watching for any signs that he resented her intrusion. But when he finally noticed her, he gave her a faint half smile and a small nod.
“Are you okay?” she said, sitting a few feet away from him on the side of the tub.
“No.” He closed his eyes for a moment. She couldn’t imagine what he was seeing in his mind’s eye. “I’m not okay.”
“It must be god-awful, what you’re feeling.”
“It is.”
“I’ve lost loved ones,” she said. “And I’ve been betrayed by people close to me. But not both at the same time. That’s a double blow.”
He nodded, still staring into the empty tub.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked. “Anything at all?”
“Tell me what happened.”
“We don’t really know, beyond what Dirk already told you. They were here in the tub, and both of them died. We’re pretty sure it was from some sort of an electric shock.”
He thought that over for a moment. “How could that happen? Is something wrong with the spa?”
“No. An electrician just checked it. It’s working fine.”
Tears spilled from his swollen, black eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Savannah reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue. She offered it to him, wondering how a man could be so unlucky as to have his wife murdered and get a nasty beating all in one day.
The coincidence seemed unlikely.
He appeared genuinely surprised and deeply upset to hear of his wife’s passing. But Savannah reminded herself that she had been fooled many times before.
Contrary to popular opinion, it wasn’t easy, even for professionals, to always know who was lying and who was telling the truth.
“Maybe you’re wrong,” he said. “Maybe they were here, but not together … in that way.”
“Maybe,” she replied. “Anything’s possible. You probably knew her better than anyone, Tiago. What do you think happened?”
He passed his hand over his face and shook his head. “My wife was beautiful. Any man would want her. And Vern wanted every woman. Some men are like that.”
The rage and pain that flashed across his face made Savannah think that, if he could lay hands on a living Vern at that moment, Vern would be murdered a second time.
“Blanca was smart,” he continued. “But she wasn’t smart in that way, like he was. She was like a child in her heart. She trusted everyone. A man like him can take advantage of someone like her.”
Savannah nodded. “That’s true. There are wolves in this world … and lambs.”
“I wish I could punish him, but I can’t punish him for hurting her, because he’s already dead.”
“We can catch the person who killed them. Will you help me do that, Tiago?”
He considered her words carefully, then said, “Yes. Blanca was foolish to be with him. But she wasn’t a bad person. And she didn’t deserve to die. What can I do?”
“Answer some questions for me.”
“Okay. I will if I can.”
“Miss Helene said that sometimes, when the weather is cold, people plug a portable heater in over there.” She pointed to the outlet by the towel valet.
“Yes, we do that sometimes.”
“Where is that heater now? I didn’t see it in the shed with the spa supplies.”
“We keep it in the garage. Sometimes we use it on the patio by the house and beside the pool, too.”
“And how about the boom box … the one that you use out here sometimes? Is that in the garage, too?”
“No. That belongs to Waldo. He keeps it in the tool shed behind his house.”
“Okay. Now, try to think hard, Tiago. Has anything different, anything unusual happened in the past few days?”
“Miss Helene fell over the cliff. And she had the problem with her medicine.”
“Yes, of course. But anything else? Anything at all?”
He appeared to be thinking hard for a long time. Then he said, “This isn’t important, but you said anything.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“A few days ago the shovel disappeared. The one I use to clean the chicken coop. I always put the tools away in their places. I hang the shovel on the wall in a shed by the coop. But when I wanted to use it the other day, it was gone. I looked for it everywhere, but I haven’t found it yet.”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s small and the blade is flat.”
She nodded. “Down South we call that a spade. It’s the perfect thing for cleaning a chicken coop.”
“And one corner of the blade is broken off.” He shrugged. “I was trying too hard to dig out a rock for Miss Helene.”
“Thank you, Tiago,” she said. “And now I have one last question to ask you….”
“Okay.”
“This isn’t a time when you can have any secrets. The police are going to uncover everything there is to know about you and Blanca and your life together. Eventually, they’ll figure out what really happened to you last night, to your face. So, you might as well tell me. Who were you fighting, and what was the fight about?”
“I’m sorry, señora,” he said. “It doesn’t matter now. I’ve told you enough. We’re done talking.”
And with that, he stood and walked away, heading back toward his cottage.
Savannah watched him leave, surprised by his sudden change in attitude and wondering what it meant.
Well, Tiago, she thought. The fact that you won’t answer that question means it’s the one I have to get answered first … right after I look for the heater, the boom box, and that shovel.
“So, what did you squeeze out of him?” Dirk wanted to know when Savannah found him and Tammy standing by the cliff where Helene had fallen days before.
“Not a lot,” she replied. “I couldn’t get him to tell me about the fight. What are you two doing here?”
“I thought I’d show the kid where Mrs. Strauss took her tumble.”
“I think you’re right about the dirt there in the path, Savannah,” Tammy said. “Looks like somebody dug a hole there to me, too.”
“Speaking of digging … we’ve got a runaway shovel to locate.”
“Get Dirko here to put out an APB,” Tammy said, gouging him in the ribs with her elbow.
Savannah waved a hand in the direction of the main house. “How about you two shake some tail feathers and help me look instead?”
“Yeah, okay,” Dirk grumbled, “but no more chicken references.”
* * *
“I’d like to have a four-car garage,” Tammy said, looking around the cavernous interior.
“I’d like to have a garage,” Dirk added.
“I’d like to find a heater with water inside it and big, fat fingerprints all over it.” Savannah walked along the wall, searching the shelves that held everything from luggage to boxes of seasonal decorations in well-organized and clearly labeled boxes.
“Helene has six boxes of Halloween stuff,” Tammy said. “I’ll bet this place makes a great haunted house.”
“And Easter must be pretty festive, too.” Savannah pointed to a stack of clear, plastic bins filled with colorful rabbits and egg decorations. “But so much for the fun stuff. Where are the tools and patio equipment?”
“I see a rake and some chair covers over there.” Tammy pointed to a far wall.
They headed that direction, and it didn’t take them long to locate several different types of patio heaters, including a large fire pit hanging on a hook from the wall next to a big propane gas heater.
Sa
vannah pulled a surgical glove from her purse and slipped it onto her hand. “I think this is what we’re looking for,” she said, reaching behind a folded chair cover and pulling out a small, portable, electric heater.
Dirk donned a pair of gloves himself and took the heater from Savannah. He turned it this way and that, as they all three looked it over.
He gave it a little shake.
“No water that I can see,” he said. “But I’ll bag it and take it to Eileen. See if she can find anything wrong with it.”
“Or any prints or fibers or other forms of evidence on it,” Tammy added in her most officious, Moonlight Magnolia tone.
Savannah was already moving down the wall, looking at the Peg Board wall where the large garden tools hung, all in a neat row. If one tool had been missing, there would have been a noticeable gap. Or if there had been an extra one, it would have been obvious.
Everything had a place and was neatly arranged accordingly.
“Helene runs a tight ship,” she said.
“Just like my trailer,” Dirk replied with a self-satisfied smile.
Savannah marveled at how thoroughly he could deceive himself. Having a tidy, well-organized home was a far cry from knowing where all your junk was in the midst of a cluttered mess, like his house trailer.
Just because a guy could lay his hands on his bottle opener at a moment’s notice, didn’t make him Martha Stewart.
“I don’t see our missing shovel,” Savannah said. “Not that I was really expecting to. I’m sure Tiago searched here already.”
“You act like you believe everything he told you.” Dirk was wearing his highly suspicious, cynical look. The one he wore most of the time. Savannah suspected he wore it in the shower and to bed.
“I wouldn’t say I believe everything that anybody tells me, but—”
Dirk looked wounded. “You don’t believe everything I tell you?”
“Nope. You lied to me once. Trust is a fragile thing. And it was broken.”
“What did I lie to you about?”
“Breaking the wing off my fairy statue in my rose garden.”
“Oh, God. I’m never gonna live down that stupid fairy.”
“Hey, it’s my fairy, and I love her. Don’t call her stupid.”
A Decadent Way to Die: A Savannah Reid Mystery Page 13
