by Joan Rylen
In the lobby, they passed Al and Adrienne, who looked like they were going to breakfast. They stopped to talk, but Vega was behind the girls and wouldn’t let them slow down.
“They’re taking Vivian to jail!” Lucy said.
“Oh my god! What happened?” Adrianne shouted.
“No, they aren’t,” Vivian said, hoping she was right. “They just need me to answer some questions.”
“About what?” Al asked.
“Jon died last night,” Wendy said.
Al dug in his pocket, Vivian assumed for his phone. “You girls call me if there’s something screwy goin’ on.” He reached out to shake Vivian’s hand and slipped her his business card.
The girls headed through the sand on the way to the street. Two uniformed men passed them carrying an empty stretcher toward a flurry of activity about 50 yards down the beach. On it lay a black, flattened body bag.
Vivian stopped and began to see stars again. Lucy and Wendy pulled up on either side of her and grabbed an arm, holding her steady but forcing her to press forward. As they turned the corner Vivian noticed several police cars parked around the hotel.
Arturo directed them toward two police cruisers. “I need to search your purses before you get in. Procedure.”
He hadn’t made eye contact with them, and Vivian felt like she had let him down. He went through their bags then motioned Vivian into a cruiser by herself, and Lucy, Kate and Wendy into the other. Wendy protested the separation to no avail.
Tears streaked down Vivian’s face. She cringed as she peered through the metal cage that separated the front and back seats. Please let this be a short ride, she prayed.
Once Lucy, Wendy and Kate were settled into the back seat, Lucy, recalling her mobster shows, asked in a hushed whisper, “Do we need to get our story straight?”
“What story? We have no story!” Wendy whispered back, still a little teary-eyed.
“Oh, I know. I just thought we might need to figure out what we’re going to say.”
“Just be honest,” Kate whispered. “It was probably just an accident and this is just a formality.”
“Maybe,” Lucy said. “But they’re taking Viv down to the station in a separate car.”
“This is not good,” Wendy said.
Kate closed her eyes, tight, and shook her head, as if that would block out Wendy’s words.
The ride to the station only took a few minutes and Lucy, Wendy and Kate were let out of the car at the base of the steps, where Vivian and Vega waited for them. He ushered them up the stairs and inside, where they saw Pierre sitting on a bench.
Pierre jumped up when he saw them. “What the fuck, Vivian, what happened last night? What did you do?”
Vivian was so shocked by this, she couldn’t even answer.
Vega looked at Pierre. “Sit down, Mr. Laroche,” then he ushered Vivian down a hall and into an interrogation room, where another officer waited.
Vivian took in the whole one-way mirror, two chairs and a table scene. Before sitting down, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was splotchy and red, which made her green eyes look like they could glow in the dark. Her hair, with curls leftover from sauna salsa dancing, was a complete joke. She hadn’t had time to even throw it in a ponytail. She took a second to try to smooth it, but it was pointless. She glanced over at the police officer who was standing by the door staring at her, eyebrows raised, and felt like she was on the set of Law and Order. She looked again at the mirror and wondered who was on the other side, watching her.
Vivian waited for what felt like forever. Is this some kind of police trick? Make me nervous so I’ll look like I’ve done something wrong? she thought.
It’s working. Vivian was sweating, just sitting still.
CHAPTER 22
DETECTIVE VEGA, accompanied by another police officer, interviewed Lucy, Wendy and Kate individually before interviewing Vivian. He started with Lucy because she seemed the most nervous.
She did her interview standing up, arms crossed, not wanting to sit in the chair she thought of as a butt-sized Petri dish of germs. Her nerves were on edge, causing her right foot to tap uncontrollably. This was Lucy’s personal cure, her way of dealing with stress.
Vega glanced at her foot, annoyed, and pushed the “record” button on a recorder. He started with the questions.
“State your full name and address for the record,” he said with a thick accent, but otherwise proper English.
She did, then added, “I’m a U.S. Citizen.”
Vega ignored that. “What is your business in Mexico?”
“No business. Just vacation.”
“How do you know the deceased, Jon Tournay?”
“I met him here in Playa. He is staying, oh, was staying, at our hotel. Are y’all sure it’s him?”
“And how do you know Ms. Taylor?”
“Let’s see…Viv and I have been friends since junior high.”
“Why did you come to Playa del Carmen?” He glanced again at Lucy’s foot, getting more annoyed by her tapping.
“Well, Viv is getting divorced in a week and her 30th birthday was two days ago, so we all pitched in and bought her a trip to Playa. This is not exactly what we imagined for our vacation,” she said, glancing around.
Lucy knew she was rambling but couldn’t help it. Detective Vega’s gaze was intimidating and words just kept tumbling out of her mouth. “Your police station needs a good cleaning. Don’t y’all have janitors?” Shit! I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t they throw people in jail down here for no reason?
Ignoring her last comment Vega asked, “What have you been doing since you arrived?”
Lucy gave him a quick rundown of the past two days, ending with, “We went to Club Caliente last night and ran into Jon and Pierre.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about last night.”
“We got there, and it was freakin’ hot. I mean, like Brazilian jungle hot. Club Caliente really needs to upgrade their a/c or something because it felt like it was 110 degrees in there. Aren’t there city ordinances against stuff like that?” There I go again, dammit. Don’t put me in jail, don’t put me in jail…
He rolled his eyes. “Focus on the events of last night, Ms. McGuire, not the temperature.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry.”
“Tell me what happened at the club.”
“We went there with Al and Adrienne, whom we had met earlier at the hotel.”
“Who are Al and Adrienne?”
“This fun couple from Chicago who are also staying at our hotel. They’re a hoot! He might be in the mob, though. And let me tell ya, Adrienne was head-to-toe decked out. Al is beyond arrogant. He’s always on the phone and it ticks her off. They’re really loud, too.” Should I have said “mob?” What if he thinks I’m associated with the mob? Crap!
“Again, focus. What happened when you got to the club?”
“I’m sorry, can you repeat the question please?” The more nervous Lucy got, the more difficult Vega’s accent was to understand.
He repeated the question and she continued, “Al bought us some Champagne. Some of us danced, some of us went outside to the balcony, we were all drinking. In fact, Arturo was even there. He did a dive into Viv’s boobs when the Champagne bottle was uncorked. He thought it was a gun shot.”
Detective Vega sighed, shook his head and glanced again at Lucy’s ever-tapping foot.
“You know, speaking of Arturo, have you talked to him about last night?”
“I am the one asking the questions, Ms. McGuire.”
“Sorry. But he was there.”
“What was Ms. Taylor doing?”
“She and Jon were tearin’ it up on the dance floor!”
“And by tearing it up you mean…?”
“They were dirty dancing and kissing, you know…muggin’ down.”
“And what about Mr. Laroche. Where was he?”
“What? Who?”
“Pierre Laroche.”
Vega stared at her for a moment before continuing, “Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Did you see anyone who did not belong?”
“Not really. I’m in another country. How would I know who belongs and what’s out of the ordinary?”
“You seem extremely nervous, Ms. McGuire. Do you have something to hide?”
Oh no, here it comes, slammer time. “No, I’m not hiding anything. And of course I’m nervous? Why wouldn’t I be? I’m in a police station being interviewed about a man’s death!” Lucy’s hands shook and her foot tapped even faster, trying to keep tempo with her racing heart.
Detective Vega shook his head again. “Who did you leave the club with and what time was it?”
Lucy took a deep breath. “We all left, except Viv and Jon. Well, actually, Al and Adrienne had already left. Pierre walked me, Kate and Wendy back to the hotel. Arturo walked out with us but went his own way outside. It was probably around 1 a.m. or so. I don’t remember exactly, I was a bit snockered.” Am I making Viv look guilty? Oh my god. It’ll be all my fault.
“Seems odd you would leave your friend with a stranger in another country.”
“The hotel is just down the street and I think Viv and Jon wanted some alone time, if you know what I mean.” Oh crap. “Wait! By alone time, I meant for making out some more, not…not for any…uh, not for anything bad.” I can barely hold it together. I’ve got to shut up before I get us all thrown in jail.
Detective Vega stared her down for a full minute before continuing. He hit the stop button on the recorder. “How much is your freedom worth to you?”
Frazzled as she was, Lucy didn’t understand.
He repeated the question and looked at her purse.
She finally understood his meaning and reached into her purse. “I only have about fifty bucks.” Dirty rat bastard. Lucy hoped her thoughts didn’t show on her face. She really wanted out of that police station. “Is that enough?”
He stood and grabbed the cash, pushing it into his pocket. He kicked back his chair and stared her down.
She froze, unable to move, not even her foot.
He turned and showed her the door. “Out.”
CHAPTER 23
DETECTIVE VEGA sat down across from Vivian while the other policeman stood by the door. Both men were of medium height and lean build, much like their ancient Mayan ancestors, but Detective Vega had a harder look about him. His black, steely eyes and deadpan expression made her stomach, which was on the verge of turning to goo, do a flip.
Vega turned on a tape recorder and went through formalities such as name, address, date and time. Vivian didn’t have as much trouble as Lucy in understanding his accent.
“What is your relationship with the deceased, Jon Tournay?”
Vivian opened and closed the clasp of her watch before she managed to answer in a calm manner. “No relationship really. I just met him a few days ago.”
“Where were you last night?”
“I went to Club Caliente with my friends.”
“Please state exactly who you went with.”
Vivian listed off the girls, Al and Adrienne. “And Arturo met us there, too.” Vivian continued to snap her watch clasp absentmindedly.
“What about Mr. Tournay? Did you have plans to meet at the club?”
“No, he and Pierre were just there.”
“Witnesses tell us the two of you looked quite intimate last night.”
“We were just dancing.” Snap.
“I don’t know many dances that involve kissing.”
Vivian crossed her arms, then uncrossed them and put her hands in her lap. Sitting across from Vega in the interview room made her feel guilty of something, even though she had done nothing wrong and she wasn’t sure how he would interpret her body language.
She answered after a moment’s hesitation. “Okay, perhaps we added some unconventional dance moves, thanks to the heat, alcohol and hormones, but I still didn’t have a relationship with him.”
“You have been crying for a man you did not have a relationship with?” Vega shook his head.
“Of course I have been crying! Jon is dead! No, I hadn’t known him for very long but he was a nice guy.” Vivian wiped the smudged mascara from underneath her eyes in an attempt to look more presentable. She felt hung-over and knew she looked it and didn’t think that bought her any brownie points with Vega.
“What time did you leave Club Caliente?”
“I don’t really know. It was close to 2:00, I think. I didn’t look at my watch.” Snap.
“What kind of watch do you have?”
Vivian looked down at it, confused by his question. “It’s a Bulova.”
“Who did you leave the club with?”
“It was just me and Jon.” Snap.
“Where were your friends?”
“They left a little while before we did and went back to the hotel. They said they were tired. Pierre walked them back.” Vivian tucked her hair behind her left ear, trying to look calmer on the outside than she felt on the inside.
“Why did they leave you in a strange town with a stranger?”
“I can take care of myself and Jon wasn’t a stranger. We were having a good time and just not ready to leave yet.” Snap.
The detective’s eyes narrowed. “After you left the club what happened?”
Her stomach did another flip. “We went to the bar at our hotel and got a drink. Jon asked me if I wanted to go on a walk down the beach, and I said yes, so we did.”
“Why did you agree to a walk on the beach?”
“It seemed harmless enough, and we didn’t even go very far.” Snap. Vivian placed her right hand over her watch to make herself stop fiddling with it.
“What happened on the beach?”
Vivian’s face got hot. “We just walked in the water a bit, talked, kissed, and that was it. I went up to my room.”
“How far out in the water did you go?”
“We only got our feet wet. Did he drown? Maybe he went swimming when I went up to my room?” Oh god, that would be awful.
Vega didn’t respond to the question, only asked another. “Why did he stay on the beach?”
“He said he was expecting a call from his agent about a part in a movie.”
“Did he say why the call would be so late?”
“He said his agent was out with the movie producer. They went to dinner or something.”
Vivian was starting to get the feeling Jon’s death was not from drowning or natural causes. “What’s going on here? I thought you were just trying to get a timeline or something from me?”
Detective Vega opened a folder and shoved a picture in front of her.
Blood. All Vivian saw was blood.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. Jon had a nasty gash in his neck and his handsome face was smeared red. Blood soaked his shirt and spattered and pooled in the sand around him. Vivian covered her mouth and turned her head. Tears spilled down her cheeks but she willed herself not to have a full blown meltdown in front of Vega. It took all her strength not to.
“Oh my god! That’s horrible,” Vivian choked. She pushed the photo away. “How did this happen?”
Vega had been gauging her reaction. “Let me see your hands,” was all he said after a minute.
Still shaken at seeing Jon’s picture, Vivian held out her trembling hands, palms up.
“Remove the Band-Aid.” Vega pointed to her right hand.
Vivian hesitated.
“Now,” Vega said, so she complied.
“Did you c
ut yourself killing Jon last night?”
“What? No! I cut myself building a sandcastle two days ago,” Vivian said, then continued, “Ask J…,” she finished, suddenly realizing that Jon was not around to corroborate her story. She had to blink back more tears and hold in a scream.
“A sandcastle? You expect me to believe that?”
Vivian brushed her cheeks with the back of her hands. “I built a sandcastle in honor of my kids. Jon and Pierre drove their jet skis up on the beach and demolished it. That’s how we met.” She knew it sounded ridiculous.
“Are you right or left handed?”
“Right. Why?”
He tapped the picture. “So you have no idea how this happened?”
“Of course not! He didn’t even walk me to my room.” This is so not good.
“You were the last one to be seen with him.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t do this,” Vivian shook her head and gestured to the picture. “Do you have any suspects?”
“Do not ask any more questions, Ms. Taylor. Or should I say, Mrs. Taylor? You are married, correct?”
I need air. How does he know this?
“Uhh. Yes. But…”
He cut her off. “You are, in fact, going through a nasty divorce right now, are you not, Mrs. Taylor?”
“Divorce, yes. I don’t know about the nasty part. My husband is a cheating asshole.”
“Are you angry with men? Perhaps vengeance would be nice?
“No way! I don’t need vengeance, not toward Jon at least.” This guy is crazy. She tried to snap her watch clasp again but her fingers fumbled and she couldn’t get it.
At this point Detective Vega picked up the picture between them and put it back into a folder. He gave her a long, hard stare.
Vivian slid off her watch and set it on the table. “Is there anyone that saw me go up to my room last night? Saw Jon still on the beach on the phone? The front desk clerk, maybe?” Please let there be someone.
“I am still investigating the case.”
He pushed back his chair and stood, swiping the Bulova in the process. “Stay close to Playa until I tell you otherwise.”
Vivian took this as a signal to stand up but it wasn’t easy to do on shaky knees. Vega reached for the doorknob and hesitated. He turned back to her.
