SAND CASTLE CONDOMINIUMS
ANDREA ALVAREZ’S APARTMENT
SATURDAY, 8:30 AM
“I can’t believe you actually talked me into this,” Becca said, looking around the corner of Andrea Alvarez’s kitchen into the living room.
The room was now filled with every living suspect in the case. James Andrews and Ceci Palmer sat uncomfortably on the loveseat facing the sliding glass doors. Elaine Shepherd, wearing the bright orange jumpsuit of the county jail, sat in the overstuffed reading chair. Sergeant Tanner, who was handcuffed to her, stood behind her with his usual stone-like expression. Finally, the massive figure of Jacinto Garcia hunkered down in the couch next to the loveseat, with the beautiful, but devious Esperanza by his side.
Two of her other officers and two sheriff’s deputies stood at attention around the room, keeping their careful eye on all the suspects.
“Why not?” Silas whispered back. “This is going to be fun.”
“Because we don’t do dramatic killer reveals in real life. That’s just something they do in the movies.”
Ever since Silas had told her who he believed the killer was—and more importantly, why Andrea Alvarez was killed—her gut had been simply to arrest the person and sweat them out in the interrogation room. The problem was, the way in which Andrea had been killed had been brilliant. Short of having an eye-witness to someone seeing the pills switched, there was no way to tie the killer to the crime. That’s how Silas had talked her into his crazy scheme. With it, he’d promised a confession by the end of the night.
“Yeah, but they’re really good movies.” He chuckled in her ear. “Besides, I can guarantee you no movie has ever done a killer reveal like the one we’re about to do.”
“Aren’t you afraid of blowing your cover?” she asked, turning her attention back to the block of cheese on the counter top. She cut the block into twelve smaller wedges.
“Nah,” he said, busying himself with pouring wine into five glasses. “Whoever’s got the Hand already knows who I am. So, does Esperanza and Garcia. The others? Well, only you and the killer will actually see what I’m doing and they won’t be saying much of anything when I’m done.”
She spun around on him. “You’re not going to…”
“Kill them? No way. Look, I know you think that because I’m the Grim Reaper, I’m all about…” He wiggled his fingers and spoke in a theatrical spooky voice. “…harvesting souls…” He chuckled again. “But truth is, if all this living in the mortal world has taught me anything, it’s that life is just too sacred. Besides, I’m nothing if not committed to my Purpose. You know I don’t abuse my power.”
She did. It was one of the qualities she actually liked about the guy. He could be an immature child sometimes, but when it came to his job as Death, he was committed.
“So, you ready?” he asked her.
“As much as I’ll ever be.”
Silas nodded in the direction of the living room and she picked up the platter of cheese and started making her way toward their ‘guests’. As she stepped down into the room, she laid the platter on the coffee table and waited until Silas had deposited the wine glasses before addressing their suspects.
“First of all, I’ll like to thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she said, standing in front of the bookcase. Silas, for his part, had skulked back toward the kitchen without a word. “We’re here today as a sort of celebration.”
“Celebration?” James Andrews said. “Does that mean you caught Andrea’s killer?”
“Haven’t you heard?” Elaine Shepherd asked him. “Spenser Blakely was arrested, though he died of a heart attack before they could formally charge him.”
Jacinto Garcia’s eyes narrowed as he stared suspiciously at Becca while Esperanza leaned back on the couch with a bored look on her face.
“It’s true,” Becca continued. “We did arrest Mr. Blakely and yes, he did die before we could make formal charges. This has been one of the most grueling investigations I’ve ever conducted and each of you have been exceptionally good sports about it.”
“Um, hello?” Elaine said, holding up her hand to reveal the handcuffs. “I’m having some difficulty finding anything to celebrate at the moment. Now that Blakely’s dead, are you going to drop the charges against me?”
“Charges?” Ceci Palmer asked. “Aren’t you Andrea’s work friend? Why have they arrested you?”
Elaine blushed at the question, then, embarrassed, lowered her handcuffed hand behind the chair’s armrest.
“Mrs. Shepherd is being charged with conspiracy and solicitation to cause someone bodily harm,” Becca explained. “She approached Mr. Garcia…”
There was a low growl that came from the large Cuban man.
“Sorry. She approached Omo Sango here, asking him to perform the death curse on Andrea.”
“You’re the one who cursed her?” Ceci asked Elaine, her voice rising in anger.
“Of course, not,” she replied. “The charges are ridiculous. First of all, Omo Sango refused to perform it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Becca told her. “As the state attorney has informed me, the intent was there. To solicit someone to kill another person by use of a gun or ritualistic magic, it makes no difference. The gun might be unloaded, but it’s still solicitation and conspiracy nonetheless. Same is true with trying to curse someone—especially someone predisposed to believe the curse will work.” The chief smiled at the woman. “And you were determined, Ms. Shepherd. You weren’t about to let Omo Sango’s refusal stop you, were you? You just sought out someone else to do it. Like Spenser Blakely.”
“Spenser was into Santeria?” James asked. “But that’s crazy. He despised the whole lot of them.”
“Only because he wished to abuse the Orisha,” Jacinto Garcia spoke up. “He wanted to bend them to his will. To control them instead of serving them. I excommunicated him and he resented us for it from then on.” The big man nodded to the food and wine on the coffee table. “Is that for us?”
Becca smiled, waving to the cheese. “Help yourself everyone,” she said. “We have plenty.”
James, Ceci, and Garcia took a few pieces of the cheese and a glass of wine each, but Esperanza and Elaine didn’t move from their seats.
“It’s rather odd, isn’t it? Putting out cheese and wine for people you’ve obviously viewed as suspects throughout your investigation,” Elaine said.
Becca shrugged. “We know from the autopsy, that it was the last thing Andrea ate before she died. I just thought it was an appropriate way to honor her right now.”
Esperanza let out a knowing little laugh with a disdainful curl of her lip, but she said nothing.
“And yes, Mrs. Shepherd,” Becca continued. “Each and every one of you have been suspects at least once in this investigation. But fortunately, today, we can put all that behind us. Today, we can name the killer.”
“Spenser Blakely?” Ceci asked.
“He was definitely the one who stabbed her in the back, yes. He also dumped her body on the beach in hopes of pinning her death on Mister…um, Omo Sango here.” Becca turned her gaze on Elaine Shepherd. “And he also agreed to perform a death curse on her for a price, isn’t that right?”
“That’s his word against mine.”
“Yes, but I already spoke with Mr. Neely on the phone. He told me you had spoken to him about getting prime customers of his firm to place ads in The Summer Haven Chronicler…the price you agreed to for him to perform the curse.”
“Unbelievable,” Ceci said, shaking her head. She put an arm around James and leaned into his shoulder for comfort. “Andrea really thought Spenser was a nice guy. I can’t believe he’d kill her like that.”
Becca turned to face her. “Oh, but he didn’t actually kill her,” she said. “When he found her, she was already dead. He just saw her death as another opportunity to drive a proverbial nail in Omo Sango’s coffin while increasing newspaper sales. The only thing he was really guilty of was desecrating a corpse, greed, and having really bad taste.”
She suppressed an urge to smile as she spoke. Although she’d never in a million years admit it to Silas, the whole ‘killer reveal’ thing was much more fun than she ever imagined it would be. She knew it was horribly unprofessional, but there was something classic about gathering all the suspects in one room and sweating them out until the real killer revealed him or herself.
“If he didn’t kill her, who did?” James asked.
Omo Sango placed the wine glass back on the table and leaned back on the couch with a sneer.
“The better question is ‘how was she killed?’” Becca said. She was now pacing the floor, hands behind her back in classic movie detective fashion. “It puzzled us for quite a while actually and without knowing the precise mechanism of death, there was no way to identify the most likely suspect. That’s why we looked at each of you very closely.”
“And?” Ceci asked.
“And, what?”
“How was she killed?” The redhead was now sitting on the edge of her seat, her hand gripping James Andrews’ tightly.
“Well, actually, we thought it’d be interesting to let the killer fill us in on that one.” Becca looked at Ceci. “Care to tell us, Ms. Palmer?”