“No way.”
“That he did. In fact, he spent most of his childhood away at prep school letting the school master deal with him.”
“Now that part I could believe.” Mr. Roberto acted like an uptight school master. “I think he missed his calling,” I joked with Mr. Alvarez.
“That he did.”
“Have you seen her, you know, ghost here?” I asked.
“Oh sure, from time to time. She never bothers me much. Sometimes I even hold the door open for her.”
“You do not.” I thought Mr. Alvarez was joking, but the look on his face was so serious that I had to believe him.
“What do you think happened to her?”
“I couldn’t tell you, dear. It’s a mystery.”
“Hmmm,” that it was. I turned to walk away but remembered one final question. “You don’t by chance know her last name, do you?” I thought if I had that, I might be able to track down her family. Hopefully she still had a couple of distant relatives on the island.
“Hmm, no I don’t. But maybe it’ll come to me.”
“Okay, if you remember it, let me or my aunt know.” I motioned to Aunt Lupe behind the front counter. She had a phone up to her ear, but gave Mr. Alvarez a little wave.
“Hey, is Carmen here?” The request had me turning my head away from Mr. Alvarez to see who was doing the talking. It was a twenty-something guy. Backwards black ball cap, graphic t-shirt, board shorts. He was talking to the maid I had seen in the hallway a couple mornings ago.
“Carmen?” The girl seemed uncertain “Um, no. She doesn’t, um, work here anymore.” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“What do you mean? She owes me rent. Where is she?”
My ears perked up. She owed him rent? He must be the bachelor pad bro.
“Ugh, I don’t know. I think, well, I don’t know.” The shy maid looked around some more, but there was no one she could pass Bachelor Bro off to.
“Is there someone else I can ask? I really want to catch her before I jet.” Bachelor Bro looked out the window as if you could see the approaching storm. You couldn’t. The sun was shining, the breeze was soft, and not a cloud was in the sky.
“Sorry,” the maid shrugged her shoulders and turned to finish wiping down the front windows, effectively dismissing Bachelor Bro.
The guy looked around, I presumed for Carmen. I took his distracted gaze as an opening.
“Hey, sorry, I overheard that you were looking for Carmen. Is she your roommate?” I asked.
“Roommate? No. I’m her landlord. Well, she rents out my upstairs apartment. She owes me rent.”
“I see. When was it due?” My mind was already racing ahead.
“Last week. She said she would pay me yesterday, but I haven’t seen her for a couple of days. I think she’s avoiding me.”
“Avoiding you? Why, does she have a history of paying late?”
“No.”
“So, why would you think that?” I asked.
“Dude, I don’t know. I just want my money. Why, do you know where she’s at?”
“No, but I’ve been looking for her, too. Have you checked out her apartment? Made sure she’s okay?”
Bachelor’s Bro’s face went blank. Her safety hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“There’s a rumor that someone was attacked here at the hotel a couple of nights ago,” a rumor that I was working on spreading, “and if you haven’t seen Carmen since Thursday or so…” I let my thought trail off.
Bachelor Bro blinked at me.
“Do you mind if I follow you back and check out her place?” I asked.
“Uh…I have a flight to catch.” Bachelor Bro was back to looking around the lobby. I was almost certain Carmen wasn’t about to turn up. In fact, I had a horrible suspicion that she had been the woman I had seen attacked in Mr. Hayden’s room. Why or by whom, I had no idea.
“I’m sure it’ll just take a minute,” I said, leading Bachelor Bro back toward the door. “If Finn comes down, tell him to call me,” I hollered back to my aunt as I practically pushed Bachelor Bro out the door.
“Do you want me to drive?” I asked him.
He still wasn’t talking.
“Or I can just follow you back to your place.” I looked around for his car. Bachelor Bro motioned to a motor bike up ahead. “Cool. I’ll just follow you then.”
I gave him a little shove toward his motor bike and hopped in my aunt’s car. The best part was, Bachelor Bro couldn’t lose me if he had wanted to. I knew exactly where he lived. Sometimes it was hard being this smart.
In ten minutes time, we were back in front of his house. To Bachelor Bro’s credit, he hadn’t tried to lose me. At least I’d like to believe the periodic checks over his shoulder were to make sure that I was still behind him and hadn’t been left behind at the last light.
“So, you’re heading out of town?” I asked him as we walked up the driveway. I spotted my neighbor friend peering over the hedge and gave her a little wave. She sulked back into the brush. This trip was giving me all sorts of ideas for home security improvements—nippy dogs and nosy, burly neighbors.
“Yeah, I have family that lives stateside. I rode out a hurricane before. Scariest experience of my life. Not going to do that again.”
“So, I’ve heard.” My stomach did a little flip flop at the prospect of missing our flight and another for my relatives who refused to leave. How would my aunt pick up the mess when it was all said and done? Would my cousins be able to come home and help? I had no clue.
Bachelor Bro, whose real name turned out to be Zach, unlocked the side garage door and revealed the set of steps that went upstairs to the apartment.
My tongue got all tingly like it did when I licked a spoonful of icing. This was going to be big, I knew it. I was ready to take the steps two at a time before common sense kicked in. What if this was going to be really big? Like dead body big? I stopped at the threshold.
“How about you take a look first?” I offered to Zach. The uncertainty was clearly displayed on my face.
“No way. I’m not going up there. Attics creep me out.”
“But it’s your house!” I explained.
“I don’t care. You’re the one looking for her.”
“So are you,” I reminded him.
Zach looked at his watch. “But I have a flight to catch. I really don’t have time for this anyway.” Zach handed me a single gold key on a metal ring.
“Fine,” I flicked the light switch at the bottom of the stairs, but nothing happened. “Lovely.” I rummaged for my cell phone in my bag and used the flashlight function to illuminate the stairs. I scanned the area before taking a step. Except for a bit of dust, the walls and steps looked clear. I considered that a good sign. I should’ve brought the black light, I thought.
I headed up the steps, looking over my shoulder about halfway up. I swear Zach was backing up. I would’ve accused him of sinister intentions, like locking me in the attic, except the guy’s tanned complexion had turned alabaster, and I was pretty sure all I had to say was BOO! and he’d pee his pants. Something I was also considering doing at that moment.
Honestly, what in the world had happened to chivalry? Or teamwork? Sending a woman upstairs to the attic to investigate on her own. Finn wouldn’t have done that. Speaking of which, I was surprised my hubby hadn’t called to check in yet. Maybe he needed more sleep than I thought.
I held my breath and slid the key into the lock. It clicked opened without a hitch. Slowly I pushed the door open, praying I wouldn’t find any carnage inside. I used the light from my phone to scan the area and found the light switch right next to the door. Thankfully this one worked.
A warm light illuminated the cookie-cutter apartment. I laughed when I spotted the little Christmas tree in the corner and red and green candles, with their candy cane striped holders displayed just so on the coffee table. Yes, we ladies did like our Christmas decor.
I looked from side to side. Nothing loo
ked amiss. I looked around for a clue, but I came up empty. As far as I was concerned, the apartment was remarkably normal. I was getting tired of everything looking normal when my instincts were screaming that I was on to something. Just like in Mr. Hayden's room. What in the world was I missing?
“What’s the verdict?” Zach hollered up from the bottom of the stairs.
“It looks clear, but I’m going to do a quick walk-through.” I flicked on the light switches as I looked around. The kitchen was clean. A cereal bowl and coffee mug were all that was in the sink. Down the hall, the pink-tiled bathroom was small but tidy. Carmen’s makeup bag and contact lens case were sitting on the countertop next to her toothbrush. I catalogued that fact and moved on.
“Whoa,” I said, stopping short when I reached her bedroom. “What do we have here?”
Newspaper clippings, printed-out articles, maps, and pictures were taped to the wall alongside her bed. A three-ring binder and her laptop were sitting on the small desk in the corner.
I walked over and read the timeline. The articles were on The Casa. Information about the owners, blueprints, photographs—and Mariah.
I took out my phone and took pictures of everything.
“She was researching The Casa. Why?” I asked myself out loud.
“Zach, how long has Carmen been staying here?” I hollered down the stairs. No one answered. “Zach?”
I walked over and looked out the door. He was gone.
“Great.”
I shut Carmen’s door and took the stairs, two at a time. I blinked in the bright sunlight. Part of me was hoping Zach was just upstairs finishing packing from his flight. But one look at the missing motor bike and I knew he was out of there.
I needed to talk to Finn.
9
“She’s working the case,” I said to Finn as I licked the powdered sugar off my fingers from my mallorca. We were at the iconic diner, La Bombonera, seated counter-side. The century-old Cuban espresso machine whirled, and all around us conversation flowed. I had already devoured my warm, fluffy sweet roll and was eyeing up another one in the window. Why did they have to leave them out like that, tempting me?
Finn swiveled closer to me in his orange bar stool. The extra sleep had done him well. I could’ve used his extra energy.
“Of Mariah?” Finn said.
“I think so,” I replied. It was the only explanation I could think of.
“Do you mean like a PI?” he asked.
“No, that doesn’t feel right.” I brought up the pictures on my phone and started scrolling through them. “It seems more like, I don’t know, research. Yeah, look at this.” On Carmen’s desk was a folder with a college’s insignia on the front of it. Department of Archeology was typed in a serif font below it.
“She’s an archeologist?” Finn asked.
“Maybe going to school for it? I’m not sure. I need to talk to my aunt about Carmen, but I’m betting she hasn’t worked at The Casa for long.”
“Are you thinking she might be the one?” Finn asked me.
“The woman I saw in the window?” The mallorca settled hard in my stomach. “I think so. Zach hasn’t seen her for a couple of days, and her makeup and laptop were still in her apartment. If she was taking off on her own, she wouldn’t have left those behind. Not if she could help it.”
“You’re right, unless she’s the killer,” Finn said.
“But why leave all that evidence behind? That wouldn’t be very smart. Plus, who did she kill?” I asked.
“Okay, so she’s the victim,” Finn said. The waiter stopped by and placed his version of the mallorca down in front of him. It was a melted ham, cheese and egg sandwich, toasted panini-style on the sweet bread and dusted with powdered sugar. She handed me the tall glass of passion fruit juice that I had completely forgotten I ordered. I had her grab another traditional mallorca for me because, you know, it’s rude to make someone eat alone. I’m polite like that.
“That’s the only thing that makes sense. Someone found out what she was up to and they killed her.” As I said those words I felt certain of it.
“Do you think it’s possible Carmen’s killer works at The Casa?” Finn asked.
“I’d say so. Who it could be? I’m not sure.” I didn’t think it was Miguel or Angel.
“What about Mr. Roberto?” Finn asked.
“I know, we keep coming back to him. Truthfully, I could see him being involved. It would explain his unwillingness to help and his reluctance to call the police.” Mr. Roberto seemed guiltier by the minute.
“What do you want to do now?”
“I still want to get back into the Haydens’ room and check it over with the black light. Even though Mrs. Hayden’s not our victim, the attack could’ve still taken place there,” I reasoned.
“No, I agree. We should check it out,” Finn said.
“And this next part is going to sound really morbid, but I want to brainstorm where someone could store a dead body on the grounds. There’s still that lime connection,” I reminded Finn.
“That sounds pleasant, but I see where you’re coming from. What about the freezer?” Finn asked. “Hotels always have massive walk-ins. Maybe the lime wasn’t doing a good enough job and they decided to go with cold storage.”
“Brilliant. Okay, let’s check out the freezer. And maybe the ice dispensers.” Finn looked at my oddly. The ice coolers were the old school, chest-freezer type, complete with plastic scoopers. “Angel called Carmen Shorty. It’s possible her body could be crammed in one,” I explained.
“Okay, the freezer and the ice machines. Anyplace else?”
“I don’t know. Let’s ask Aunt Lupe and see what she thinks. She knows the hotel grounds better than we do,” I said.
The sky turned gray as a storm rolled in. I knew it was only a precursor for what was to come. For the second time in twenty-four hours we were looking for a dead body. Only instead of it being Mrs. Hayden, this time it was Carmen. Aunt Lupe gave us a couple more areas to consider, including both of the laundry boiler rooms. Of course, they were both in the basement.
Aunt Lupe looked over her shoulder. Mr. Roberto was working quietly in his office. “Here, take my key card. It’ll get you in where you need to go. You just have to take the stairs. The service elevator is the only one that goes to the basement,” she said to us.
I pocketed her card and we headed for our room first so we could nab the black light.
“Hit the lights,” I said to Finn while I closed the curtains for maximum effect. I wanted to test out the light before we carried it with us.
“I’d rather not. Do you really want to know?” he replied but complied anyway.
The room dropped to darkness and I clicked on the purple bulb. My white shirt glowed as did Finn’s sneakers. I waved the fixture like a wand over our duvet and carpeting. They were surprisingly stain free. As was our bathroom. I was thinking housekeeping deserved a fat raise. Whatever they were making, it wasn’t enough.
“See, it’s all good,” I said. And then I spotted her. Mariah was in the mirror, looking at me quizzically. I was betting she had never seen a black light before. Of course, this was the last rational thought I had before I screamed in shock and clicked the black light off. Our room was plunged into darkness.
Finn was quick with the light switch.
“What the hell?” he said staring at the now empty mirror and then back at me.
“You saw her, too!” I said pointing at him.
Finn stared back into the mirror and over his shoulder, speechless.
Ha! I wasn’t crazy! The hotel is haunted! That realization was rapidly followed by another freak-out. We had just seen a real ghost. Holy guacamole!
And we still had a dead body to find.
10
I fortified myself with a king size candy bar. Finn chose a selection of mini bottles from our in-room bar. And then we set off on our morbid mission. For the sake of efficiency, we cleared the ice machines on each floor one at
a time on our way down, starting with the 11th floor. Access to the 12th floor was locked. Not even my aunt’s keycard gained us access.
“We’ll have to ask Aunt Lupe about that,” I said to Finn.
“Definitely,” he agreed.
We made our way all the way down until we couldn’t go any further, coming up empty despite our thorough search. A gray keypad with a blinking red light greeted us at the end of the stairwell, blocking access to the basement. I swiped my aunt’s card and the lock gave way.
The basement was nothing like the upstairs. The lighting was dim and the walls stone, much like the hotel’s exterior. The air was cool and damp. I was pretty sure this was what walking into a dungeon was like.
“Which way did she say again?” I asked Finn. I looked anxiously from left to right. Now more than ever, I was on the lookout for Mariah. This seemed like her kind of territory.
“To the right. Aunt Lupe said the laundry room is the first door. The boiler room dead-ends in the hall,” Finn replied.
I had been hoping the laundry room would be vacant, but my aunt warned us that it probably wouldn’t be.
“Ian and Diego usually work through lunch, putting in their eight hours and clocking out as soon as possible,” she had said.
I found that comment a bit strange. I mean, who didn’t love lunch? But now being downstairs, I got it. I’d put in my time and get out as soon as possible, too.
When we walked in, the two men were working the machines, one loading the impressive line of washers while the other folded a massive stack of towels. Both of them had earbuds in, jamming while doing their thing.
I tapped the one doing the folding on his shoulder.
He jumped.
“Sorry!” I said holding my hands up in surrender.
The man pulled out an earbud. He was clearly surprised to see hotel guests down here. Luckily, I had my story ready to go.
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