“Not sure. But it didn’t surprise her that someone with authority was looking for him.”
“Did she say why he worked at The Casa?”
“Sort of. She said that her husband thought a job would be good for him, but it hasn’t worked out so well.”
“So, where is he?” Finn asked.
“Good question. She hasn’t seen him since he left for work yesterday.” I let the weight of that statement hang in the air before continuing. “But he likes to hang out at Mix Masters. It’s a recording studio.”
“Really? That’s kind of cool.”
“It could be, except his image sounds a bit lame.” I filled him in on the M&M reference.
“You’re joking.”
“Unfortunately, no,” I replied.
“Well, at least this should be entertaining,” Finn said, turning around and heading back down the driveway.
“I just hope he’s there.” If this played out the way I thought it would, Miguel was a key player in Mrs. Hayden’s murder. I know I was getting ahead of myself, as a body had yet to be found, but it was only a matter of time. I was sure of it.
My phone rang at that moment. It was Detective Roxy calling me back.
“Hey girl, what you got for me?” I asked into the phone.
“A couple of red flags. First, the SEC is investigating James Hayden for securities fraud.”
“Securities fraud? Like what, insider trading?”
“Exactly. Did you already know that?”
“No, lucky guess,” I replied.
“Oh, so yeah, he’s being investigated for insider trading, but the other red flag, and the one that’s more important, is that his wife filed a couple of domestic violence complaints against him.”
My ears perked up. “How long ago?”
“The most recent was last month.”
“Did she press charges?” I asked.
“Do they ever?” she replied. I took that as a no.
I looked for something in my aunt’s car to write this all down with but came up empty. I relayed the information to Finn instead.
“Okay, I’m definitely thinking he’s our guy,” I said.
“Do you want me to forward this information to the police there?” Detective Roxy asked.
“Ah, maybe. I’ll call you back and let you know.” I really didn’t want Detective Roxy to know that this was a total rogue investigation, although I’m pretty sure she had already figured that out.
I clicked off with Detective Roxy and turned expectedly to Finn.
“So where are we headed to exactly?” he asked me.
“La Perla.” The words rolled effortlessly off my tongue. Spending the week in Puerto Rico had reminded me how smooth the Spanish language flowed. It made English sound so clunky.
“Wait, hold up. Isn’t that the ghetto?”
“Sort of. It’s complicated.” The ocean-side community was a no-go place for tourists. Any guide would tell you to stay away from the shanty town unless drug trafficking was your thing. The brilliant-colored buildings—salmon pink, lime green, denim blue—were safest observed from the higher elevation of say, Castillo de San Cristobal, a much more tourist-approved terrain. But the streets that made up La Perla, with their little houses crammed along the rocky Atlantic coast, also encompassed a community. One with a love for culture, rhythm, and color. Like I said, it was complicated.
“Anyway, we’ll be fine as long as we mind our own business. You can do that, right?” I said that last part tongue in cheek. I might have a penchant for solving cases, but Finn had one for making new friends. I swear, you couldn’t take him anywhere without him buddying up with someone. As much as I liked to hound him for it, it was also a characteristic I loved about him. It made social situations all the more enjoyable knowing he could hold his own.
We pulled in front of a white-cylinder brick building, the side splashed with colorful graffiti. I hated to even call it that, because it was more artwork than vandalism. The ocean scene had splashes of emerald green and turquoise blues swirling together, with pops of pinks, reds, and yellows making up the coral reef. It amazed me what some people could create with spray paint. I would have only been able to manage a smiley face and maybe a heart.
“Do you think one of us should stay with the car?” I eyed the decorative paint once more. I know I said La Perla was a cultured community, but still, the next building over had a few bullet holes punched into the concrete.
“How about I wait and you run in. I’ll keep an eye out from here.”
“Sounds good. If you see anyone run out the backdoor, follow them.” I didn’t think Miguel would run, but then again, you never knew how people would act under pressure.
There wasn’t a receptionist, or even a reception area, when I walked in, but I did see a short hallway with several doors. The first one was open. I walked across the hardwood floor and glanced in. A woman, probably the same age as me, sat behind a series of computer screens with an impressive mixing board in front of her. Her ears were covered with headphones, but she looked up and smiled when she saw me.
“Hey, sorry to bother you. I’m looking for—” What names should I use? M&M and Slim Jimmy just sounded too ridiculous, “Miguel and Jimmy,” I said, unable to use the duo’s stage names.
The woman shook her head as if to say those two. “They’re down two doors. If the red light’s on, they’re recording. Just wait until it clicks off before heading in.”
“Awesome, thanks so much.” As I looked down the hall, I saw the lights for the first time. The light was on above the first door but not the second one. I listened closely at the door anyway, but I couldn’t hear a thing. I went ahead and knocked.
“’Sup, pretty mama,” a wanna-be gangsta said when he opened the door. I had no idea if this was Miguel, Jimmy, or someone else entirely. A wave of smoke rolled out after him. The skunky smell hit me and I tried not to crinkle my nose. I looked down at the joint in the guy’s hand. “You want?” he said with a head nod.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” All I could think was I hope I don’t get a contact high.
“Slim, where’s your manners? Invite her in,” the other guy said. He had a pair of Beats headphones around his neck and was standing in front of a screened microphone. His NBA jersey was adorned with a thick gold chain. A matching watch was clasped around his wrist.
“Are one of you guys Miguel?” I asked the two of them.
“What’s up?” the microphone guy asked. I liked to think this was good news. Better than Miguel being Weed Man.
“Can I talk to you outside for minute?” I asked him.
“Yeah, yeah sure,” he said, taking the headphones off and putting them on the stand in front of him.
“Why don’t you stay?” Jimmy asked me with a wink.
“Dude, she’s married. Look at the ring,” Miguel replied.
“Oh, ’scuse me, ma’am,” Jimmy replied, seeming sincere.
“That’s okay,” I said with a side look to Miguel.
“Don’t mind him, he’s an idiot. Hell of a beat master but still an idiot,” Miguel said as we walked out the door together.
“You guys produce music?” I asked when we were in the hallway.
“Yeah, we’re working on this fusion mix. Something I want to try out.”
“Is that why you quit The Casa?” I asked.
“For the most part.”
“How’d you land that gig?” I asked. I was having a hard time picturing Miguel working for Mr. Roberto. Their personalities just didn’t jibe.
“My old man. He and Mr. R are good friends, if that tells you anything. He’s going to lose it when he finds out I quit.”
“I think your parents just want the best for you,” I replied.
“You think?” Miguel didn’t sound so sure.
“Of course. If they didn’t, they’d just kick you out and let you figure this world out on your own.”
“I guess,” Miguel replied. “Either way, I can’t stand working at th
e hotel. The place creeps me out.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I heard someone was attacked at the hotel yesterday. A woman. Do you know anything about it?”
“What? Naw, that’s crazy. What happened?”
“That’s the thing. No one really knows. It was witnessed from the beach, but when they investigated, they didn’t find a victim.” I watched Miguel’s reaction closely, but he seemed genuinely perplexed.
“What’d Mr. R say?”
“Honestly? Not much. He’d rather the whole case disappeared,” I replied honestly.
“Figures. That dude’s whacked. I’ve seen some crazy stuff there, but he doesn’t want to hear about any of it.”
“Oh, you mean Mariah,” I assumed.
“She’s only part of it. My dad doesn’t believe me, but there’s some bad juju going on there. He thinks I’m just lazy, but I can feel it. Creeps me right out.” I nodded even though I hadn’t felt any bad vibes from the hotel until last night. “Jimmy says I’m sensitive like that. It’s what makes me a good musician.”
“Anyone in particular acting suspicious?” I asked.
“Suspicious how? Half the people that work there seem like they’re up to something,” Miguel responded.
I filed that comment away and continued. “What about any of the guests?” I asked.
“None of them stick around long enough for me to notice.”
I thought of one more thing to ask. “Do you know the groundskeeper, Angel?”
“Angel’s a cool dude. I could hang with him any day.”
“Any idea why he’d walk off?” I asked.
“A million. I’m surprised he put up with Mr. R’s crap for as long as he did. I would’ve told him to shove it a long time ago.”
I was thinking that not everyone could afford to tell their boss off and have a mansion to go home to, but I didn’t say that. Miguel was still young, and I’m betting despite his parents’ recent insistence that he learn about the real world, he still had a lot to learn.
“What about Carmen in housekeeping?”
“Shorty quit? No way.”
“Shorty?”
“She called me M&M and I called her Shorty.” I thought I saw Miguel blush.
“Is she cute?” I joked with him.
“Aw, stop it.” Miguel was definitely blushing now.
“No, seriously though, what does she look like? Is she short? Like shorter than me?” It would help to know what the girl looked like. And for the record, I was only five feet tall—on a good day. Only most people didn’t realize that thanks to my love of high heels. If I wasn’t sporting height-enhancing footwear then I was a Converse girl all the way.
Miguel looked down at my wedge heels and probably thought the same thing. “Um, I guess the same height?”
“Do you have any idea why she would’ve quit?” I asked.
“Naw, I just can’t believe that,” Miguel said.
“Why’s that so surprising?”
“I don’t know, because she’s, like, responsible.”
I thought I knew what Miguel meant. “You mean, she had work ethic? She wouldn’t just up and quit her job?”
“Yeah, plus, she liked it. I don’t know, it was weird.”
“She’s a maid, right?” I asked. I assumed that’s what my aunt meant when she listed housekeeping next to Carmen’s name.
“I know. I didn’t get it either.”
“You didn’t by chance talk to her yesterday, did you?” I asked.
“Shorty? Naw. I saw her, but we didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“Do you have her cell number?” I had no idea if the phone number my aunt gave me was her cell or home number. Truthfully, I hated making cold calls, but I would try it out if we couldn’t track her down.
“I hadn’t gotten that far yet.” The blush rose to Miguel’s face once more.
“Okay, well here’s my card. I’m going to be working this case for the next couple of days. If you hear of anything, give me call.”
Miguel looked over the shiny white business card before pocketing it.
“You know, I bet your parents would probably support your musical endeavors if you took it more seriously,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m not trying to knock your brand or anything,” I said, motioning to his oversized jersey and baggy shorts, “but maybe look into the business side of the industry. Get an internship, take some classes. I bet your dad has some connections. Show them you’re serious,” I offered.
Miguel’s eyes lit up. “That’s not a bad idea. Thanks, lady. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Good luck with the beats. I’ll be listening for you guys.”
Miguel smiled. I had a feeling he wasn’t as bad or as hopeless as his parents feared. It seemed like he was just trying to make a name for himself. Although, he could use with some better company and clothing choices.
When I walked out of the studio, I saw that Finn had joined a side game of dominoes with a group of older men. This did not surprise me in the least.
“What did you find out?” Finn asked me.
“Miguel needs to go shopping for some new clothes,” I said.
“I meant about the case, Sherlock.”
“I knew that. I’m still thinking back on everything he said. Honestly, not much as it pertains to the case. Hopefully we’ll have better luck with the rest of the list.
5
“You sure this is the right address?” Finn asked me for the second time today.
“Looks like a total bachelor pad, doesn’t it?” The living room was staged with black leather couches, a zebra-striped rug, a sweet entertainment system, and, was that a nudie magazine on the end table? Sweet sugar, who was Carmen living with, if she was living here at all.
“No photos, candles, or Christmas tree? Total dude house,” Finn replied.
“Good point.” I loved me some holiday decor. Just ask Finn. I’d slowly turned our houseboat into a faux winter wonderland. In my opinion, fake snow was the best type of snow. If I had it my way, I would always be a southern girl and the only snow storm I’d experience would be on the Hallmark Channel.
Unfortunately, the front window was the only one we could see into. The rest of the house was already secured for the approaching storm.
“What about the garage?” I motioned to the attached single car.
“Let’s check it out,” Finn replied.
We walked over and peered into the side door. At first there was nothing impressive about the garage. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. But then I spotted a set of stairs going up along the back wall and I knew they were important. Instinctively, I rattled the side garage door handle, but it was locked. I looked around the neighborhood. Was anyone watching me? I didn’t think so.
“What are you going to do?” Finn asked me nervously.
“Just be quiet,” I replied. The single pane glass didn’t look that thick, and plenty of large rocks were nearby that could shatter it. I was debating which rock to choose when a Nosey Nellie popped her head over the neighboring hedge.
“You need some help?” the burly woman asked us rather aggressively.
I looked up. And I mean up about six feet to meet the woman’s eyes.
“Um, no. I’m just trying to see if Carmen’s home,” I replied casually despite the fact that my heart was in my throat. Finn remained silent.
“Carmen?” The brut of a lady repeated.
“Yeah, petite thing. Dark hair. Works at The Casa in housekeeping.” Technically I was betting that description could apply to the majority of the women I saw working in housekeeping at the hotel, but I left it at that.
“Haven’t seen her,” the lady shot back.
“You mean not today or not ever?” Finn asked for clarification.
“Not today, smart aleck. She likes to come in late and leave early. Sounds like trouble, but I mind my own business.”
Ha, I laughed
to myself. Probably as much as Mrs. Jackson did back home, which was not at all. This was just the type of woman we’d want on our side.
“Well, can you do me a favor?” I asked as sweetly as I could muster. “It’s really important that I speak with her. Will you give me a call if you see her?” I asked, handing over one of my cards. I had planned on leaving it with Carmen.
“Con-sult-ant?” the woman said, pronouncing each syllable individually. “What are you, some kind of religious fanatic?”
“No, I promise you, nothing like that.” I looked at Finn trying to gauge what it was about us that gave her that impression.
“Because I found Jesus. A long time ago.” The woman added.
“That’s great,” Finn replied, grabbing me by the hand. For once he didn’t want to stay and chat.
“You a troublemaker?” she asked Finn directly.
I laughed. Out loud. I couldn’t help it. Finn used to be a troublemaker. A big one. Thankfully Mr. Murphy took him in and straightened him out. But I guess the mischievous look never left him.
“No ma’am. Just trying to help my wife find her friend,” Finn replied straight-faced.
“Wife, huh?”
I held up my sparkly pink diamond ring and matching rose gold band. I’m sure the woman had an opinion on that, too. I had a feeling colored diamonds weren’t her thing.
“Well, I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning. She had on her uniform, so I suppose she was headed to work.”
“Thank you so much. Give me a call if you see her, won’t you?” I asked.
“You know, we have neighborhood watch around here. I’ve been Street Captain for the past ten years.” The woman rocked back on her heels.
“Wow, that’s great,” and not at all surprising, I thought.
“I see you take your job seriously,” Finn said.
The woman stared hard at him. “It’s important. You can’t go around trusting people these days,” she said sternly.
“Oh, absolutely,” Finn replied with mock seriousness. I so wanted to elbow him, hard. But I restrained myself.
“We’re going to go, but thank you for keeping an eye out,” I said, tugging on Finn’s hand. “Just call me if you see her.”
Beauty Secrets Mystery Boxed Set 2 Page 18
