Rooms to Die For (22 page)

Ted and Beatriz were standing by the island. They were probably waiting for me. Yet, still, I hesitated.

“The Madonna’s head,” Beatriz said. “One must rub it briskly for the mechanism to work. I’m rubbing, but nothing is happening.”

“Try harder,” Ted urged.

“
Sí.
My hands are not what they used to be.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. We haven’t got all night. Let me try.”

“No. This is for me to do. Once more I rub.”

Stunned, I stood frozen in the darkened hallway, transfixed with disbelief.
They knew.
Ted and Beatriz both knew about the altar’s hidden panel and were trying to open it. Unbelievable, and yet I had to believe. I’d heard them admit it.

“
Madre de Dios
, the switch is here somewhere,” Beatriz said. “I know, for I opened it once before, but now I cannot.”

“You sure you know what you’re doing, old lady?” Ted asked, disgust and impatience tingeing his voice.

“That tone I do not like,
niño
,” Beatriz said. “Speak to me with more respect.”

“Respect!” Ted snorted.

Heart pounding, I stood motionless, hardly daring to breathe. What now? If I attempted to walk away I risked having them hear me. They’d realize I’d been eavesdropping, that I knew they were aware of the altar’s secret. But why shouldn’t they know? That didn’t necessarily mean they knew about the drugs. Especially not Beatriz, elegant, sophisticated, exquisite Beatriz. On the other hand, as much as I hated to give in to the possibility, the exact opposite could be equally true.

Not daring to peek into the room again, I stood stiff as a sentry with my back pressed against the hallway’s William Morris wallpaper. For once, I didn’t give a damn how stunning it was. All I wanted to do was crawl away and escape from what I’d just heard.

But there was no escape.

“Deva Dunne,” a loud, carrying voice called. “What on earth are you doing out here in the dark?”

Chapter Forty-Four

“Shh!” I put a finger to my lips though no one could see me do it.

“We’re ready to lock up, dear,” Marian Stilwell said, coming over to me in the dark. “Are you all right?”

I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Yes. No.”

“Someone’s out in the hallway.”
Beatriz.

“Oh, you still have visitors,” Marian said. “Are they a problem?”

“Not at all.” I smiled into the dark. “There’s no problem, Marian.”

“Well, if you’re sure, I’ll go check the upstairs rooms.” And picking up her long blue skirt, she hurried away.

It was too late now to pretend I wasn’t there, so I peeled myself off the wallpaper, flung back my shoulders and, like nothing was wrong, strolled toward the kitchen. Not a moment too soon either. Ted’s silhouette loomed in the open doorway.

“Anybody out there?”

Showtime.
“Hi, Ted.”

“Oh. There you are, Deva.”

Not Mrs.
Dunne.

“I thought I heard voices,” he said. “What’s going on out here?”

“Nothing much. Just having a chat with the committee chair. She’s getting ready to close up shop.” I moved into the light. “Is Beatriz with you? I haven’t seen her all evening.”

“Yeah, she’s here.” His eyes on me were wary, suspicious. I could read questions in them. No doubt he wondered if I’d overheard anything. I brushed past him and continued into the kitchen, a happy little designer who’d just enjoyed a successful evening studded with compliments on her creative talents.

“Beatriz!” I exclaimed, as if delighted to see her.

She was in her usual black, unrelieved except for a yellow rosebud pinned to the shoulder of her gown. She attempted a smile. I beamed one back at her, though for once, I didn’t reach out to give her a hug but stood with the island a barrier between us.

I hoped to God that would be the only thing to separate us—nothing more. If Beatriz admitted she knew about the altar’s secret, that would mean she had nothing to hide. No knowledge of the drugs. No clandestine operation under the guise of a legitimate business. No laundering of contraband through the Spanish Galleria. No furtive association with Ted Wolff...only friendship, for the simple reason that he had been Hugo’s friend, a man Beatriz had treated like a son.

At least I think she had.

My heart heavy, I waited, breath catching in my throat, for her to say something about the altar. But she didn’t say a word. Nor did Ted, who simply stood silent and frowning, one foot tapping the floor as if he were impatient to leave.

Beatriz coughed a little as if readying herself to speak.

Ah
,
now she’ll tell me.
I
knew she would.

“That French stove is magnificent,” she said, glancing across the room, her eye for a quality object as true as ever.

“Yes, it is.” I faked a laugh as my heart plummeted to my feet. “Wish I could buy it. But then I’d have to build a house around it.”

She patted the altar’s marble top. “I must say this too is beautiful in here. You were wise to use it as you have. In this space it’s
perfecto.
”

“Yes, and you made the look possible, Beatriz. I’m very grateful and hope some visitor will fall in love with the altar and simply have to have it.”

“That would be wonderful,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment as if fatigued beyond endurance.

“Are you feeling all right?” I asked, alarmed by her sudden pallor.

She opened her eyes and nodded, even as a spasm of pain twisted her lined face. “A little pang is all. Nothing to worry about.”

If only that were true.
I eyed her carefully. Always frail, tonight she looked less well than usual, and her night wasn’t over yet. For I had to put her to a test, a test I hoped to heaven she’d pass. But first I had to get rid of Ted. What his role in all of this might be, I didn’t know for certain, but I did know I couldn’t deal with him and Beatriz at the same time.

Rather pointedly, I raised the cuff on my taffeta sleeve and studied my watch. “Uh-oh, less than ten minutes before closing time, and I have so much to carry out to the car. Lieutenant Rossi said he’d help, but he stepped outside for a while. Would you mind doing me a favor, Ted?”

“If I can.” He raised his chin at Beatriz. “I have to get this lady home soon.”

“It’ll only take a minute. I think the lieutenant’s on the front verandah. Would you go tell him I need him, please?”

Ted hesitated before doing as I asked, but finally, an annoyed flush mounting his cheeks, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen.

As soon as he was out of sight, I hurried around the island and took Beatriz’s hands in mine, recoiling only a little at their icy touch. “I have a secret to share with you.”

“You
do?
” Her eyes widened into round black pools.

“Yes.” I glanced over a shoulder toward the open kitchen doorway and lowered my voice. “That’s why I wanted Ted to leave.”

“What is it?” she asked, a tad of alarm leaping into her face.

“Something I discovered by accident earlier this evening. Something nobody else knows anything about.”

“A mystery,” she said, stiffening as if about to face a sudden danger. I wasn’t surprised. Beatriz had always been perceptive.

“Exactly,” I replied.

“Don’t keep me in suspense. You must tell me before I explode.”

“Better, I’ll show you. Look at this.” I bent down and caressed the Madonna’s head. The hinges creaked, and I stepped aside quickly before the panel could bonk me on the knee again.

As the door swung open, Beatriz gasped and clung to the marble top. The sudden terror in her eyes told me that without something to cling to, she’d collapse on the floor in a puddle of black silk.

“You knew,” I whispered.

She nodded. Just once. “
Sí
. And now you know, too. You’ve seen them.”

“Seen what?” I had to play this game out, admit to nothing and let
her
tell me.

“The bags of cocaine. Hugo hid them inside.” She shuddered, a tremor that shook her whole body. “I’ve been so frightened.”

God forgive me, but I simply shrugged my taffeta shoulders and said, “Are you hallucinating, Beatriz? There’s nothing in the altar. It’s empty.” I waved a hand. “Take a look.”

With a growl much like a feral cat’s, Beatriz let go of her support with one hand and bent down. A single glance inside the island and her growl turned into a smothered scream. She straightened, all the color draining from her face. “I’m a dead woman,
amiga.
He’ll kill me now.”

“Who will kill you?”

She was struggling for breath. “No matter. Let the good Lord take me and do with me as he wishes. My life is over.”

Her hand with its bold heirloom rings slipped from the marble top. Before I could catch her, she slumped to the floor and lay stretched out on her back, the toes of her velvet evening slippers pointing north and south.

I dropped to my knees beside her, urging her to open her eyes. She moaned but didn’t move, not so much as an eyelid. As she lay there, a wizened old woman the size of a half-grown child, I patted her cheeks and massaged her hands, calling her name, begging her to awaken. All the while fighting off my own guilt at causing her so much anguish.

Had I been too harsh in searching for an answer? I feared so, but the truth had to come out, and it had—some of it anyway. She’d known about the drugs. No telling what else she knew. Or what part she’d played in all of this.

Whatever her role might be, she was terrified of someone. But who? The same person who killed José and Hugo, the two men she’d loved? As I gazed at her quiet face, I struggled with the guilt swirling inside me. My clever little ploy had reaped its reward, but my poor friend was the loser.

“Beatriz,” I urged. “Beatriz. Open your eyes.”

If she heard my plea, she didn’t respond, but lay as silent and still as if in a tomb.

Help. I needed help. I needed 9-1-1. Where was my purse? I couldn’t remember for a moment. Oh, across the room, somewhere under the kitchen sink. Though I hated to leave Beatriz even for an instant, I had to. Letting go of her hands, I stood and murmured, “I’ll be right back.”

Her beaded evening bag lay on the island’s marble surface.
There must be a cell phone in it.

Without wasting a second, I undid the bag’s jeweled clasp and reached inside, groping for a phone. But what I pulled out wasn’t a phone. It was a pistol. A Taurus pistol. In unlikely pink, of all colors, and small enough to fit a woman’s hand. No question, the gun would fit Beatriz’s small beringed fingers to deadly perfection.

Chapter Forty-Five

After checking the Taurus for bullets, I stood there with the loaded pink gun in my hands, too stunned to move. It looked like a toy, or a harmless accessory, one that Imogene might like. But it was lethal, a little killing machine. And the question gnawing at me was why, oh why, did Beatriz walk around with a weapon in her purse?

Self-defense? She said she’d be killed now that the drugs had gone missing. A breath caught in my throat. Good God, then I’d be responsible for her death.

I glanced down at where she lay unmoving, and gun in hand, raced across the kitchen for my own purse. With the Taurus in my left hand, I reached under the sink with my right and fumbled for my bag. When my fingers grasped it, I yanked it out, dumped the contents in the sink, and made a distress call to 9-1-1. Then in the quiet, darkened house, I listened for approaching footsteps. Nothing. No Rossi yet. No Ted Wolff either.

Ted.
Acting on a hunch, my pulse racing faster than normal, I released the gun’s safety and emptied the cartridge. I’d no sooner dropped the bullets into the sink when Ted sauntered back in.

“I couldn’t find the lieutenant...whoa!”

Oh.
Right.
The gun.

He flung his hands in the air. “Don’t shoot.”

“Of course not, Ted. Why would I shoot you?”

He slowly lowered his arms. “What are you doing with a gun?” He peered at the Taurus as if he recognized it, or maybe I was imagining things.

“Sorry. My dad was a cop and told me never to leave home without one. So I keep it in my handbag, but I had to empty everything out fast to call 9-1-1. Beatriz has fainted.”

His glance darted about the kitchen. “Where is she?”

I pointed the Taurus’s snout at the island. “Over there. On the floor. I couldn’t bring her to.”

His eyes never leaving the pistol, Ted rounded the side of the altar and careened to a stop. But instead of tending to Beatriz, he peered into the empty compartment. “Well, what do you know? A secret compartment. Some hiding place, huh?”

“Sure is,” I said, picking up my purse and stuffing everything except the bullets back into it. “But right now I’m only interested in Beatriz.”

I hurried over to her, and casually, as if it were of no importance, placed my bag with the useless pistol inside on the island top.
Let’s see if he bites.

Kneeling beside Beatriz, I chafed her hands. They were cold and lifeless, and her lips were blue. “I wish the medics would get here. I’m afraid we’re losing her.”

Ted cursed and slammed the panel door shut with an ear-jarring bang. “Maybe that’ll bring her to. Now let’s cut through the bull. You know about the altar. So where’s the goods?”

“What goods?” I looked up, right into the Taurus’s single eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, standing to even the playing field a bit, forcing myself to sound cool.

“You’re lying. It was all in there—I saw it. You’re working with the old lady. I knew I couldn’t trust her.” He moved in closer, the Taurus inches from my face. “You got ten seconds to tell me where you hid the stuff.”

I backed up a step. “You’re bluffing. You haven’t got the guts to shoot.”

“You don’t believe me? Neither did Hugo. His mistake.”

Sirens wailed in the distance.

“Come on, come on. Five seconds.”

“Kill me and you’ll never know. Besides, you won’t get away with it. The house is guarded. The minute that gun goes off, the cops’ll be all over you. Like flies on a jelly donut.”

Ted sneered. “Time’s up. You’re coming with me. You’ll talk later.”

The sirens screamed even louder.

Over their shrill cries, I shouted, “I’m not going anywhere. Go ahead. Shoot.”