Three-Day Weekends are Murder Read online

  Lea turned to Francisco. “Now, tell me what you think.”

  “Señora Castillo died years before her husband. He never remarried, but he had a mistress to whom he gave a beautiful and most generous gift, a gold and ruby necklace.”

  Jan’s jaw dropped. “Consuela’s wedding present?”

  “How could he!” Lea exclaimed.

  Both women glared at their husbands. They looked at each other and raised their hands.

  “When he passed away,” Francisco said, “the mistress left this area. She was never heard from again.”

  Jan cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “Then how did the necklace end up here?”

  “Two months ago, a couple visited the Adobe. I asked if they wanted a tour, but they said they’d go through the house on their own. Before they left the grounds, the man came to my office to tell me he was a great nephew of Don Castillo’s mistress. He was fascinated by the story of the Castillo family and believed among his inheritance was the gold and ruby necklace. We verified its authenticity and the man donated it to the city to display in our museum.”

  “What an amazing story!” Jan exclaimed. “Imagine discovering the provenance of a valuable item stored in your attic.”

  “But why was it stored in his attic?” Lea asked. “If it were mine, I’d want to wear it.”

  Francisco shuddered. “That’s the disturbing part of the story. Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you.” He placed both hands flat on the table and rose out of his chair as if to leave.

  “Tell us!” the women shouted together.

  “If you insist.” He sat back down and stroked his goatee. “His family believes the necklace is cursed. Every time one of the women in his family wears the necklace, something terrible happens.”

  “Of course!” Lea clapped her hands. “Consuela cursed the necklace as revenge for her cheating husband.”

  Bob snorted. “Sounds exactly like a woman!”

  Lea ignored her neighbor’s comment. “I understand why he was willing to donate it to the city instead of keeping it or selling it.” She folded her napkin and laid it across her empty plate. “He didn’t want to be responsible for passing on the curse.”

  “But that’s not the most amazing part,” Francisco continued, his accent thickened in his excitement. “On the day the man visited the Adobe, I asked him how he learned of the necklace. Don Castillo’s mistress is no secret, but the great gift he gave her is never disclosed as part of the tour.”

  He dropped his eyes and rubbed his hands together. “I shake to think what he told me.”

  “What did he tell you?” the women asked in unison.

  “I remember his exact words. He said, ‘We were in the master bedroom. A woman dressed in blue told us all about it.’”

  Jan and Lea locked eyes.

  Paul leaned forward. “Is there—”

  “No, Señor,” Francisco replied, shaking his head. “There is no woman on our staff. Only me.”

  * * *

  Tiny bulbs on the magnolia trees lit up. Wind rustling through the branches created a canopy of shimmering lights over the courtyard.

  Francisco stood up. “That’s the signal for people to take their seats.” He bowed and took his leave.

  “You don’t believe all that stuff about ghosts, do you, Paul?” Bob asked.

  “Nope,” Paul answered, looking sideways at Lea, “but I bet my wife does.”

  “Yours and mine both.” Bob turned to his own wife. “How about it, Jan?”

  “What can I say?” Jan shrugged while drumming her nails on the table. “Men and women see things differently.”

  “Yeah, men are right and women are wrong,” Paul said.

  The two men shared a high five.

  “No, smarty, because women are more imaginative,” Lea argued. “They don’t see everything in terms of black and white.”

  Paul nudged Bob’s elbow. “She means women believe in ghosts.”

  A man bouncing a guitar on his hip and wearing a cowboy hat walked up the stairs to the stage. Everyone sat back as the band tuned their instruments.

  Bob pointed to the figure at the microphone. “Forget ghosts,” he said. “That man right there. He’s the real deal.”

  Chapter Four

  Restored by a hot bath, Maddy curled up on her living room sofa. Unlike tourists caught off guard by unseasonably cool night air, she wore flannel pajamas. She screwed the lid on the fingernail polish and held up her hand to admire the color.

  Answering the ringing phone meant tapping a button with one nail to prevent smudging the others. “What do you want, Eric? I’m busy.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  Maddy took a sip of wine from the glass beside her. “Out with it.”

  “The woman in my room,” he stammered.

  Maddy nearly choked on the Merlot. “I can’t believe you’d call to gloat over some woman you’re in bed with after I turned you down.”

  “She…”

  Maddy’s temples throbbed. She felt a headache coming on.

  “The woman what, Eric? Spit it out.”

  “She’s not in my bed, she’s on it. And she’s dead. She’s been strangled.”

  * * *

  Maddy jerked up, knocking a pillow to the floor. “What have you done?” she gasped.

  “For gawd sakes, Maddy!” Eric yelled. “I didn’t do anything. I found her this way when I returned from the lobby.”

  “Who is it?” The vision of a woman lying strangled on his bed made her shiver. “Anyone I know?”

  “Of course not. It’s a woman I met at the bar.” Maddy detected underlying panic in Eric’s impatience. For a second, neither of them spoke. “You’ve got to come over here and help me,” he gushed.

  “Are you crazy! Hang up and call the police.”

  “I can’t face this alone.”

  For the first time since she’d known him, she heard him sob. It made her uncomfortable.

  “I swear I had no part in this, but I’m terrified the police will believe I’m responsible. I can’t move. I can’t think. My whole body’s shaking. What am I supposed to do?”

  “I told you.” Maddy shook her hands to dry the polish and ward off tremors. “You need to report it right away. The longer you wait, the more suspicious it looks.”

  “What’s going to happen? What will my partners say when they hear? What will my clients think?”

  “For crying out loud, Eric!” She stood and paced, too shaken to sit still. “What about that poor woman? Think of her. Is she married? Does she have kids?”

  “I don’t remember what she told me. The whole night is fuzzy.”

  Maddy sighed as she resigned herself. “All right. Give me ten minutes and then inform hotel security. I’ll call the police. Don’t touch anything. Don’t call anyone else. And don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be there shortly.”

  She disconnected the call and kicked off her slippers in disgust.

  So much for never having to deal with my ex again.

  * * *

  For the third time that day, Maddy headed to the hotel. At the first light, she punched in a number for emergencies. She could call Tom’s direct line at the Homicide Division, but she wasn’t ready for that.

  She and Tom shared a bond as survivors of broken marriages and divorce. Beyond that, they had an unspoken agreement not to discuss prior relationships. She had disclosed minimal information about Eric using the excuse there was nothing of interest to tell.

  Eric was about to become much more interesting to Tom.

  Her call to Lea went to voice mail. She left a message. “Call me. It’s important.”

  Moments later, she received a text from Lea.

  Band doing last set. Call you in ten. Have fascinating news.

  Maddy typed a response. Can’t top mine.

  * * *

  Maddy took the elevator to the sixth floor and searched for room 616. From the lack of activity, her timing had worked. She would have a few moments
alone with Eric.

  She knocked and held her breath, dreading the sight awaiting her.

  “Who is it?” a voice asked.

  “It’s me, open up.”

  The door flew open. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room.

  “Take it easy, Eric!”

  He slammed the door behind her.

  “Oh, jeez,” Maddy gasped. She felt she’d been kicked in the gut. The room spun. For an instant, she thought she might puke.

  The body was face down across the bed with the head at an awkward angle. Long hair partially covered the face. Maddy avoided looking at the lifeless eyes. At least, she’s fully clothed. She turned away to look at Eric. “She must have been attacked from behind and fell forward.”

  He was crumpled in a chair beside the bed. Typically an immaculate dresser, his shirt hung out, the sleeves were rolled, and his hair was mussed as if he’d raked his fingers through it over and over.

  “That’s what I thought,” Eric agreed.

  “Did you call security like I told you?” She took a seat at the table and clasped her hands to keep them from shaking.

  “Not yet.” His voice was trembling.

  She glared at him. “Why not?”

  “I’m sorry.” He looked dazed like in a trance. “I lost it when you hung up. I haven’t moved until I heard your knock on the door.” He stood and circled the room wringing his hands.

  His constant movement in front of the corpse created an out-of-body sensation for Maddy. She shook her head to clear the feeling. “I get it, but it’s time to pull yourself together.”

  “What should I do?” he moaned. “I can’t afford to be arrested. If the media get hold of this, I’m ruined. My partners have a no-tolerance policy for scandal.”

  “I don’t think the police will arrest you,” Maddy reasoned, “but they’ll need your version of what took place here tonight.”

  “What do you mean my version?” His voice rose in sudden anger. “There is no my version. What I’ll tell them is the truth.”

  Maddy ignored his defensiveness. “If they’re satisfied with what they hear, they’ll let you go to the station of your own volition to sign a statement.”

  Eric stopped pacing and took a seat. He rolled his head from side to side and rubbed his neck.

  “But, let me make one thing clear,” she told him. “Regardless of the police, this story will come out in the next day or two, and it will have your name all over it.”

  Eric leaped up and resumed pacing. “I need to be cleared of any suspicion of guilt before I show up at the office Tuesday.”

  She felt pins pricking her entire body. She wanted to run screaming from the room. “Don’t you ever think about anything besides that stupid job of yours?”

  He stopped and hovered over Maddy. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. “For the love of god, babe,” he begged. For once, there was no hint of smug arrogance in his eyes, only fear and desperation. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I need your help.”

  She tried to turn away, flustered by his naked, raw emotions.

  He leaned over and grabbed her arms. “I don’t want my kids to find out.”

  She felt a momentary twinge of sympathy. She let him hold onto her hands. “Your kids are grown adults, Eric.”

  “Are kids ever old enough to hear their father might be a murderer?” he sobbed.

  “I can’t help how your children interpret what they hear.”

  “If you make sure the police arrest the real murderer before the news comes out,” he pleaded, “it won’t matter.”

  His sudden humility is almost embarrassing to see; almost, but not quite. More like exhilarating.

  She sat back to give herself a chance to think. “We may keep a lid on this until the weekend is over. That means we’ve only got three days.”

  He leaned closer to embrace her. She pulled away. “Tell me everything and don’t spare me any sensitive details.” She pulled her phone from her purse and started snapping pictures. “We don’t have much time before the police arrive.”

  Chapter Five

  The door opened and Tom Elliot entered the room followed by the rookie on the homicide squad, Pat Fisher.

  Maddy’s stomach did a back flip. She wished she could be invisible.

  Officers who had secured the area made way for the lieutenant. It was more than his looks which made Tom a focal point of attention. It was the easy confidence and relaxed air of authority which put him in immediate control of a situation.

  Tom surveyed the room. His eyes stopped when they landed on Maddy. His face usually lit up when he saw her, but at the scene of a crime, he was all business. “Some woman called emergency to report a dead body. I guess that was you.” His voice was steady, void of emotion. “Was there a reason you didn’t call me direct?”

  Eric looked dismayed, unsure how to interpret the palpable energy between his ex-wife and the cop. “You two know each other?” he asked.

  Maddy avoided Tom’s eyes, dreading the moment of introductions.

  Tom stood in front of Eric and flipped open his badge. “Lieutenant Tom Elliot, Buena Viaje Police.” He glanced at the body and added, “Homicide.”

  Without offering his hand, her ex introduced himself. “I’m Eric Larson.” He waved his hand in her direction. “This is Maddy Lar—”

  “Conley,” she interjected. She was the only one in the room to notice a twitch in the detective’s eye.

  Eric continued. “Maddy’s my—”

  “Friend,” Maddy cut in. She stood up and faced the rookie. “For the record, Eric is also my ex,” she explained. “I use my maiden name.”

  Tom glared at them. “We need statements from both of you. I'll check the body before the crime techs take over. Move to the table where Officer Fisher can get your information.”

  Looking over their heads, Tom jerked his head for Pat to take over. Pat grimaced, reluctant to be placed in the middle of an awkward situation.

  Maddy moved toward the detective. “Tom, I—”

  “I’ll be with you momentarily.” His tone invited no debate. He turned toward the body.

  * * *

  Moments later, Pat tapped him on the shoulder as he spoke with one of the techs. “Sorry to interrupt. The hotel manager’s here. He’s raising a fuss in the hall.”

  “Handle it,” Tom snapped, “but don’t let him in. I don’t want the crime scene contaminated any further than it is already.”

  “The guy’s up in arms. Wants to know why cops are swarming the place.” The rookie rolled her eyes. “Says it’s ruining the ambiance for his holiday guests.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s spoiling my holiday plans, too,” he mumbled with a sideways glance at Maddy. “All right, I’ll take care of him.”

  The gawky-looking guy bending an officer’s ear wore a pin on his lapel with the words Homer Wilson, Hotel Manager. Tom stepped between the two men and extended his hand. “Lieutenant Elliot, Buena—”

  “Are you the officer in charge? I demand to know what’s going on. My staff didn’t call the police.”

  “Your security officer hasn’t informed you?” Tom spoke in a low voice. “We’re responding to a report of a dead body.” He waited a moment for the news to sink in. “May I have your name, sir?”

  The man took a step back before offering a clammy hand. “Homer Wilson. I’m the manager of the Surf and Sand.” Even under the dire circumstances, a note of pride was evident. “Did the guest suffer a heart attack?”

  “We haven’t determined the cause of death, but we don’t believe it was natural causes.”

  Homer’s face turned the color of eggshells as he considered how to respond. “I don’t want to appear insensitive—”

  “Of course not.” Tom looked over the manager’s shoulder and rolled his eyes.

  “But goings on of this nature are unacceptable,” the manager spat out. “This is the final weekend before the start of high season. It’s imperative ou
r guests have a perfect stay so they’ll choose us for their summer vacation. I can’t let any unpleasantness spoil that.”

  “I can’t do much about the timing of a murder.” The detective’s tone was terse. Observing the affect of his words, he softened his voice. “Besides, the cold weather may already spoil their weekend.”

  Homer fidgeted, straining to peer over Tom’s shoulder. “What are those people doing? They’re making a mess.” He pushed past Tom into the room, but halted when he saw the body. “Omigawd!”

  Tom grabbed Homer’s arm as the manager reached out to steady himself. His shock increased seeing his interior decorator sitting at the table. “Maddy, what are you doing here?” he asked, giving Eric a quick once-over.

  Maddy opened her mouth to answer but Tom steered Homer to the hall and motioned for an officer. “This policeman will take you downstairs. We’ll do our best to attract minimal attention, but you need to keep this floor blocked off for an hour or so.”

  “How do you expect me to do that?” Homer wailed. “Our guests will be returning from dining out and visiting the harbor. They’ll want to get into their rooms.” Before Tom could answer, the man blurted out another question. “How will you get the body out?”

  “The same way we always do. In a body bag on a stretcher.”

  The manager’s eyes darted from side to side. He clasped his hands in prayer fashion. “Again, I’m not trying to be—”

  The lieutenant was losing patience. “Yeah, yeah. What is it, Homer?”

  “Can you get the body down on the staff elevator and take it out the back of the building?”

  “I’m through talking! Get him out of here, Officer,” Tom ordered. “We’ll tell you when you can give your pampered guests access to their rooms. In the meantime, offer them a free movie and popcorn for their kids.”

  An officer stepped up to escort the manager to the elevator.

  “One last thing,” Tom noted. “There will be crime scene tape on the door.”

  Homer wrung his hands. “I have a Closed for Repairs sign. Could you use that instead?” he begged.

  Tom took a deep breath. “Your elevator is waiting, Homer.”