Murder By Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 4 (5 page)

Marilyn sat in her car, across the street from Carlos Mechago’s warehouse, sipping her coffee from a ceramic travel mug with a Key Lime pie logo on it. She’d crept out of her house before the sun came up, in hopes of catching a glimpse of some sort of suspicious activity at the warehouse. Even if she saw nothing, she was fully prepared to confront Carlos about setting up her innocent daughter. What’s the worst that he could do to her, here on a public street?

As the sun peeked over the horizon, first one truck arrived, then another. Workers who must’ve parked on the side of the building that Marilyn couldn’t see opened the large overhead bay doors and began unloading boxes. Everything looked completely legitimate, and she began to wonder why she had even come here to watch in the first place. The car engine was off, and Marilyn leaned her head on her hand, her bare arm resting on top of the rolled down window.

“Lovely morning, isn’t it?” the voice of Carlos Mechago at her elbow startled her out of her boredom, making her heart race.

“Actually, no. I haven’t had a lovely morning since my daughter was arrested,” she snapped, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut with more force than was necessary.

“I hadn’t heard,” he managed to look authentically surprised. “What happened?”

“As if you didn’t know,” Marilyn snarled, fed up at being trifled with. She was obviously the only advocate for Tiara – Drew didn’t seem to care at all, and Bernard had made the arrest – so she was left to make things right on her own. “Why can’t you just leave that poor innocent girl alone?” she stepped up to the supplier, hands on hips.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied in a low voice, frowning. “If your daughter is in trouble, it’s because of the company that she keeps, senora. I can assure you of that,” he met her glare dead on, not budging an inch.

Marilyn was thrown off by his direct manner. “What are you talking about?” her eyes narrowed.

“Why do you suppose that the beach boy’s boat was sunk in the marina?” he asked, looking at her as though she were clueless.

“I have no idea,” she shrugged, not getting what he was trying to say. “Maybe there was a leak and it just sank,” she offered lamely.

“With a dead body on it?” Carlos raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well, obviously, whoever did it wanted the police to think that Drew was guilty,” Marilyn replied, tired of the game.

“Or…maybe the lazy, drug-dealing yoga teacher actually did it,” he spelled it out finally.

“Drug dealing? Drew? You must be mistaken,” she shook her head.

“Oh really? How do you think he got your limes for you? Pedro shipped more drugs into the Keys using produce than any other dealer around, and the yoga man was one of his distributors,” Carlos shook his head in disgust.

“But that’s impossible…I would’ve known,” she protested. “Tiara would never have been attracted to someone like that,” her denial grew, as did the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“He’s the perfect front man. All the ladies love him, he’s healthy and fit, has a respectable job, on the surface, what’s not to like, right? Let me ask you this, senora, was your daughter arrested for something related to cocaine?”

The color drained from Marilyn’s face and she nodded, eyes wide. It all made sense now. When Tiara had gone diving with Drew, she had complained that he kept going to the same spot over and over again – had it been a drug drop off point? The yoga instructor also had access to Pedro’s phone number and could’ve planted it in the apartment, along with the packet of cocaine.

“Carlos, forgive me…I have to go do something,” she murmured, quickly getting into the car.

Marilyn drove immediately to Tiara’s apartment, hoping that one of her roommates was home. Fortunately, one of the girls, whose name escaped her at the moment, opened the door when she rang the bell.

“Wow, we’re pretty popular this morning,” the roommate yawned, opening the door and leading the way into the small apartment.

“Really?” she asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, some detective just came in to ask us about Tiara and stuff,” she said vaguely.

“Well, that’s why I’m here too,” the anxious mother replied. “Did anyone come by to visit or anything the night before Tiara was arrested? She was spending the night at my house, so I know that she wasn’t here, but did anyone go in her room or drop by?” she asked.

“Yeah, the guy that she was dating, the yoga instructor came by because she had left her beach bag at his house. He came in and put it in her room for her, then hung out with us for a little bit because we had just ordered pizza and he was hungry. It was weird though, when the pizza came, he didn’t even eat. Must be a health nut or something,” the girl smiled.

“Must be,” Marilyn agreed, excited but not showing it. “Listen, I’ve gotta run, but thanks, you’ve been very helpful,” she said, heading to the door.

“That’s what the cop said too,” the roommate yawned again, closing the door after her.

Marilyn had just gotten into her car and turned over the engine when her cell phone rang. Seeing Bernard Cortland’s number, she picked up.

“Can you meet me at your house in about ten minutes?” the detective requested.

“I’ll be there,” she promised, hitting the accelerator and heading for home.

She arrived at her front door in no time, relieved to see that Bernard was already there.

“Mom, the charges against me have been dropped,” Tiara announced with a tearful smile when she answered the door.

“That’s wonderful, honey,” she said, wrapping her daughter in a hug. “They never should have been filed in the first place,” she accused, her eyes shooting daggers at Bernard over Tiara’s shoulder.

“So how did you finally figure out what I knew all along?” Marilyn demanded, sitting down across from the detective in her living room.

“When the fingerprints on the baggie of cocaine didn’t match your daughter’s, I assumed that it had been planted. I talked with her roommates, and it was pretty easy to figure out who had planted it. As part of my earlier murder investigation, I had gotten a warrant to search the house and car of the yoga instructor, and I found the car in front of a local bar. The bar that the car was parked at, was the same bar on the matchbook cover that had been used to break into your back door when your limes were stolen. When I looked inside the vehicle, I found a repair bill for the car’s radiator, which would explain the antifreeze puddle that was outside your back door after the robbery. I ran the prints from the back door and cold storage, along with those from the cocaine baggie against prints from the yoga instructor and found that they all matched,” Bernard explained.

“What about the murder?” Marilyn asked. “Did Drew do that too?” she was horrified at the thought that her daughter might have been dating a drug dealer and murderer.

“It looks that way,” the detective nodded. “His phone records showed frequent communication with the victim, and we think that he may have been transporting drug shipments for him. I listened to the messages on his cell, and apparently there was a pickup that Drew didn’t make for whatever reason, and Pedro was upset that his drugs were somewhere in the ocean. Threats were exchanged, and the messages suddenly stopped. Pedro had been stabbed repeatedly, and a knife that matches the wounds was found inside the spare tire compartment of Drew’s car. The damage to the boat was shown to be deliberate, and we’re speculating that the yoga instructor did it himself in order to try to dispose of Pedro’s body without looking suspicious, because we’d think that no one would be stupid enough to leave evidence on their own property,” he shook his head.

“If we could find the stash of drugs tying the victim to Drew, we could establish that the homicide was committed because of a drug deal, and we could end up getting him off the streets and into a cell where he belongs for a very long time,” Bernard said gravely.

“I know where they are,” Tiara whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

“The dive site!” Marilyn exclaimed, and her daughter nodded.

They brought the detective up to speed on what had happened during her dive date with Drew, and Tiara let him know that if they took her out on a Coast Guard boat, she could pretty accurately point out the spot where they had dived that day.

“Come with me, we’ll make that happen,” Bernard assured her.

When the heavy-hearted young woman went to change, Marilyn spoke to him in a low voice.

“She’s going to be fine now, right? The charges will be erased from her record?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “She’s been nothing but honest and helpful to us, we’re going to make certain that she’s squared away.”

“Have you captured Drew yet?” she asked.

“I have officers on the way to his house as we speak.”

Tiara stepped gingerly onto the Coast Guard boat, assisted by Detective Cortland. On board, she was guided to a seat behind the crew member who would be navigating them to the site, and a bright orange life-jacket was placed over her head. The plan was that she would give directions to the site, and would stay on board with the detective while the Coast Guard divers searched the area. It took about half an hour of travel before they were in sight of the spot where Drew had taken her diving, and, drawing closer, they spotted another boat already anchored there, with a diver who was scrambling up the ladder, pushing an awkward bundle of something up ahead of him. Even from a distance, Tiara recognized the yoga instructor in his wetsuit.

“That’s him,” she yelled, above the sound of the engine.

Drew had obviously seen the approaching Coast Guard vessel. He tore off his dive equipment, pulled up the anchor, and hit the throttle, his small craft surging forward. The Coast Guard boat closed in on him quickly, and a crew member used a bull horn to direct him to stop the boat and prepare to be boarded.

At the directive, Drew gunned the engine of the small boat and leaped ahead of the Coast Guard vessel. Whatever was in the bundle that he’d brought up out of the ocean was tossed overboard, disappearing in his wake.

“Mark it,” the crew member who was piloting ordered, and the coordinates where the bundle had been dropped were transmitted to another boat that would come out with divers to search for whatever had been discarded.

The Coast Guard was bearing down hard on the smaller boat when suddenly, there was a loud pop and smoke began billowing out of the engine room. Crew members grabbed fire extinguishers and ran as Tiara looked up at Detective Cortland, her eyes wide with fear.

**

“So they didn’t catch him?” Marilyn asked, when Tiara told her the harrowing tale of her terrifying boat ride. The Coast Guard vessel had been so badly in need of repair that another boat had to come out to tow it in. Meanwhile, Drew had escaped.

“No,” Tiara shook her head. “But they did recover quite a bit of cocaine that he had tossed overboard.”

“I wonder where he went,” Marilyn worried, thinking that her daughter might be in danger with a drug dealer and murderer on the loose.

“Well, he couldn’t have gone too far with a boat that size, even if he was carrying extra fuel,” her daughter replied realistically. “I’m not a criminal, but I think if I were him, I’d want to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible…so you can stop worrying about me now, Mom,” she said, patting her mother’s arm.

“You know me too well,” Marilyn smiled at her daughter, thankful that the ugly charges against her had been dropped.

“Well enough to know that you’re probably seriously craving a piece of Key Lime pie and a cup of coffee right now,” Tiara teased.

“Right as usual,” her stomach growled as though on cue, and mother and daughter headed to the kitchen.

Having a normal work day, where her biggest concern was whether or not she was going to run out of pie before the end of the day, was a huge relief to Marilyn. She and Kelcie had baked with glorious abandon, even coming up with a new treat – Key Lime Shooters, served in a white chocolate cup. The bite-sized desserts flew out the door by the dozen, and people came in just because they’d seen the description of the decadent treat written on the Daily Specials chalkboard out front.

Tiara had spent most of her day on the computer at the front counter, when there weren’t customers to deal with, crunching numbers and seeing how badly the lime shortage and the drama caused by Drew the Drug Dealer had affected their bottom line. She was pleased to report that, despite the challenges they had faced, their numbers hadn’t fallen significantly at all, and they were well on their way to being able to hire more employees and potentially open up a new location within the next year.

Marilyn had given her daughter a bear hug when she shared the good news about the shop’s success, and made plans to celebrate with pizza and a movie later that evening. Tiara came back to the kitchen, phone in hand, with a strange look on her face toward the end of the day.

“Hey, Mom, do you mind if I take off a little bit early today? I’m really tired and want to get some rest before we hang out tonight,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“Sure, honey, Kelcie and I can close up. You go ahead and get some rest. Everything okay?” she asked, watching her daughter closely.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired,” Tiara responded, untying her apron.

**

Marilyn stopped at the market on her way home to pick up a bottle of cabernet to enjoy with her pizza and movie later. It had been a long couple of weeks, and both she and Tiara were ready to just kick back and relax. Her daughter had been glad to move back into her apartment, despite her mother’s entreaties to stay, so this would be their first hang-out evening in a while. Fluffy greeted her at the door and twined around her ankles, purring, as she made her way to the kitchen to set the bottle of wine on the counter. Passing by the breakfast bar, her peripheral vision picked up on something in the back yard that caught her attention. Moving to the sliding doors that led to the patio, she looked out and saw a bunch of empty beer cans littering her oasis from the world and frowned.

“What the heck went on out here?” she wondered, looking for anything else that might be out of place.

“I saw him,” Tim Eckels timid, toneless voice came through the trees as he peered at her from the other side.

Marilyn jumped, hating the uncanny way that the creepy neighbor was always able to startle her. Sighing, because she disliked interacting with him, but needing to know what he meant, she bit the bullet and asked.

“Who did you see, Tim? Do you know who did this?” she asked, seeing the vague shape of the dumpy little man between the trees. She gazed down at the trash on the patio, shaking her head.

“It was a guy…a strong, tanned guy.” Marilyn could just picture him blinking rapidly behind his coke-bottle glasses as he imparted what, to him, seemed to be relevant information.

“Well, that describes practically every man on the island, Tim, that’s not too terribly helpful,” she retorted, wishing she’d never acknowledged the little gnome.

“It was the guy from the news,” was the bland response.

Marilyn stepped closer to the tree line, her heart leaping to her throat.

“What do you mean it was the guy from the news?” she asked, fear tickling the base of her spine.

“The drug guy. He was here until your daughter came home, then they left,” Tim said, shuffling away from the trees, clearly done with the conversation.

“Tim! Wait! Where did they go? What time did they leave?” Marilyn asked, her heart pounding. “Tim!” she shouted again, receiving only the fading shuffling sound of his feet as her response.

Dialing Tiara’s number, she ran back into the house. When she received no answer, she called one of the roommates, who said that they hadn’t seen her since she left for work that morning. Her final call was to Detective Bernard Cortland.

“Bernard, he has my baby.”

**

The detective paced in Marilyn’s living room, convinced that she was not going to react well to what he had to say, but knowing that it needed to be said.

“Marilyn, did you ever consider the possibility that Tiara may have gone with him voluntarily?” he asked, bracing himself for the storm.

“Absolutely not!” she exclaimed, her face reddening with anger. “My daughter is an educated, intelligent young woman with a keen sense of right and wrong. There’s no way that she’d willing keep company with a known drug dealer and murderer.”

Bernard raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Look, I know that she’s an upstanding, hard-working young lady. All I’m saying is that sometimes career criminals are quite skilled in seeming innocent and victimized. They’re usually excellent liars, and this guy may have fed your daughter some line about how he’d been set up, and he knows who the real killer is, and that if she really cared about him, she’d help him find the culprit,” he explained calmly.

“Oh,” Marilyn calmed down a bit, thinking. “I never thought of that,” she admitted. “But surely Tiara is far too smart to fall for such nonsense.”

The detective shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. She liked him. Usually when you like someone, you try to believe the best about them,” he pointed out, gazing at her oddly.

“True,” she nodded, lost in thought. “So what do we do?”

“You sit right here and wait to see if she texts, calls or comes home,” he instructed. “I’m going to head to the marina to see if any rented boats have gotten underway in the last couple of hours. Most of them have trackers on them, so if he took her out on one, it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“Wait…why can’t I go with you,” Marilyn pleaded. “I don’t want to just sit her doing nothing, I’ll drive myself crazy.”

Bernard sighed inwardly. “Because,” he began with ultimate patience. “Sometimes when a criminal is trying to gain confidence, he’ll “prove” his trustworthiness by allowing them to stop by home to pick up some things. You need to be here to stall them if that happens. You have my number, call me the minute that they arrive,” he counseled, hoping she’d buy into his somewhat lame explanation.

“Oh, okay,” Marilyn nodded. “But I can’t say that he’ll still be in one piece by the time you get here,” she seethed.

“Take a breath, Marilyn. I really don’t want to have to take two people to jail this evening instead of one,” he gave her a pointed look. She stared right back at him, ready to do battle if he continued on the subject. “I’m heading out,” he finally said. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

“I will,” she promised grimly, walking him to the door.