Authors: Joan Rylen
“It seemed harmless enough, and we didn’t even go very far.” Snap. Vivian placed her right hand over her watch to make herself stop fiddling with it.
“What happened on the beach?”
Vivian’s face got hot. “We just walked in the water a bit, talked, kissed, and that was it. I went up to my room.”
“How far out in the water did you go?”
“We only got our feet wet. Did he drown? Maybe he went swimming when I went up to my room?”
Oh god, that would be awful
.
Vega didn’t respond to the question, only asked another. “Why did he stay on the beach?”
“He said he was expecting a call from his agent about a part in a movie.”
“Did he say why the call would be so late?”
“He said his agent was out with the movie producer. They went to dinner or something.”
Vivian was starting to get the feeling Jon’s death was not from drowning or natural causes. “What’s going on here? I thought you were just trying to get a timeline or something from me?”
Detective Vega opened a folder and shoved a picture in front of her.
Blood. All Vivian saw was blood.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. Jon had a nasty gash in his neck and his handsome face was smeared red. Blood soaked his shirt and spattered and pooled in the sand around him. Vivian covered her mouth and turned her head. Tears spilled down her cheeks but she willed herself not to have a full blown meltdown in front of Vega. It took all her strength not to.
“Oh my god! That’s horrible,” Vivian choked. She pushed the photo away. “How did this happen?”
Vega had been gauging her reaction. “Let me see your hands,” was all he said after a minute.
Still shaken at seeing Jon’s picture, Vivian held out her trembling hands, palms up.
“Remove the Band-Aid.” Vega pointed to her right hand.
Vivian hesitated.
“Now,” Vega said, so she complied.
“Did you cut yourself killing Jon last night?”
“What? No! I cut myself building a sandcastle two days ago,” Vivian said, then continued, “Ask J…,” she finished, suddenly realizing that Jon was not around to corroborate her story. She had to blink back more tears and hold in a scream.
“A sandcastle? You expect me to believe that?”
Vivian brushed her cheeks with the back of her hands. “I built a sandcastle in honor of my kids. Jon and Pierre drove their jet skis up on the beach and demolished it. That’s how we met.” She knew it sounded ridiculous.
“Are you right or left handed?”
“Right. Why?”
He tapped the picture. “So you have no idea how this happened?”
“Of course not! He didn’t even walk me to my room.”
This is so not good
.
“You were the last one to be seen with him.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t do this,” Vivian shook her head and gestured to the picture. “Do you have any suspects?”
“Do not ask any more questions, Ms. Taylor. Or should I say, Mrs. Taylor? You are married, correct?”
I need air. How does he know this
?
“Uhh. Yes. But…”
He cut her off. “You are, in fact, going through a nasty divorce right now, are you not, Mrs. Taylor?”
“Divorce, yes. I don’t know about the nasty part. My husband is a cheating asshole.”
“Are you angry with men? Perhaps vengeance would be nice?
“No way! I don’t need vengeance, not toward Jon at least.”
This guy is crazy
. She tried to snap her watch clasp again but her fingers fumbled and she couldn’t get it.
At this point Detective Vega picked up the picture between them and put it back into a folder. He gave her a long, hard stare.
Vivian slid off her watch and set it on the table. “Is there anyone that saw me go up to my room last night? Saw Jon still on the beach on the phone? The front desk clerk, maybe?”
Please let there be someone
.
“I am still investigating the case.”
He pushed back his chair and stood, swiping the Bulova in the process. “Stay close to Playa until I tell you otherwise.”
Vivian took this as a signal to stand up but it wasn’t easy to do on shaky knees. Vega reached for the doorknob and hesitated. He turned back to her.
“One last thing
Mrs
. Taylor, hand over your passport.”
VIVIAN COULDN’T believe this was happening. She had enough troubles at home and sure didn’t need more in a foreign country.
Arturo ushered Vivian toward the exit and she looked around for the girls. The three of them were sitting on the steps, looking dejected.
They had compared notes about their interviews and gave her the details. Each had been questioned by a fiery Detective Vega who assumed Vivian was a man-hater. Their passports had also been confiscated. This pissed Vivian off. They had flights to catch in a few days and they couldn’t get back home without their passports. It was one thing to have an extended vacation, but this wasn’t what any of them had in mind.
“He mostly just asked us how you knew Jon, what time we left the club last night, when you came in, etc.” Kate sat on the top step with her knees to her chin.
Lucy stood, ready to go. “I was uncontrollably nervous, rambling on and on. I kept thinking they would throw me in jail. I might have said too much,” she paused, “on accident.”
“Not good.” Vivian walked past Wendy and Kate and stood next to Lucy.
“And we had to pay him off in order for him to let us out of the interview room.” Lucy looked at her purse. “I only had fifty bucks on me and didn’t know if that would be enough to buy my freedom.”
“I only had forty dollars.” Wendy sat on the step beside Kate. “I don’t like to carry too much cash around down here, ya know?”
“I only had thirty and I thought I was screwed,” Kate said, “but I guess it was enough.”
“What a bunch of crap, having to bribe the freaking police down here so we don’t get thrown in jail for something we didn’t do,” Wendy said. “Makes me appreciate America.”
Vivian rubbed her left wrist. “He took my watch.”
“What?” Lucy asked. “Wasn’t that a gift from Rick?”
“Yeah, his wedding present. But the box he gave it to me in wasn’t a Bulova box so I figured he bought it at a pawn shop. Cheap bastard.”
“At least it kept you from going to jail today,” Kate said.
“True.”
“We have got to get out of here right now,” Lucy said, who was obviously still totally freaked out. “I need a shower to get the grit and germs off of me.”
“Yeah, I feel pretty freakin’ nasty myself.” Vivian looked around the parking lot. “How are we getting back to the hotel?”
“Arturo has two police cruisers waiting for us.” Kate pointed to a couple of cop cars. “I don’t think this is the usual service, so let’s go.”
The girls made their way to the cars and reluctantly got in the back. This time Lucy rode with Vivian so she wouldn’t feel like such a criminal.
The police dropped them off a block from the hotel and as they walked past the “special parking” they noticed their rent car’s door was ajar. They went over to it and saw the glove box open and the console between the front seats was not shut all the way. The P.O.S. had been searched.
“At least there’s nothing in here to steal.” Lucy slammed the door closed.
They locked it up and walked to the hotel, where several police cars still lined the street.
In front of the hotel, a reporter was talking to a police officer, jotting down notes in a small notebook, and a photographer was taking a picture of the hotel sign. Tourists were taking pictures of the scene with their cell phones.
“Let’s try to avoid this.” Wendy nodded toward the activity.
“But we have to go right by them to get to the hotel,” Lucy said.
“It’s fine. Just try to look touristy.” Wendy forced a smile.
They walked by as nonchalantly as possible, but Vivian could feel the reporter eyeing them. She glanced back after they were a good 20 feet away and saw the policeman turn and point to them.
“Crap, I think he just blew our cover!”
The reporter and Vivian made eye contact. The reporter flipped her notebook closed and yelled for the photographer.
“This is not good.” Kate walked a little faster. “We need to make ourselves scarce before we end up on the front page of some Mexican newspaper.”
The girls picked up the pace, walked around to the beach side of La Vida de Playa and looked up. The police were on a third-floor balcony that must have been Jon and Pierre’s.
“I saw Pierre leave the station,” Lucy said. “I wonder if he’s in his room with the police?”
Vivian looked up at the balcony, determined. “I’m going up there, I want to talk to him.”
Kate grabbed Vivian’s arm. “You heard what he said at the station. Are you sure?”
“Yes, absolutely. I
need
to talk to him. I’m going up.”
The girls followed Vivian on her mission. They quickly went through the lobby and hit the stairwell. They were trying to be quiet but their flip-flops were flippity flopping as they plodded up to the third story, where they were met by a young policeman. He wore the same uniform they’d seen Arturo in.
“
Hola, señoritas
. Is your room on this floor?”
“No, we’re on the second floor but we’ve come up here to talk to Pierre.” Vivian pointed to Pierre’s door. “Is he here? It’s important.”
The policeman looked at them individually, pondered, then held up a finger. “
Uno momento, por favor
.”
He walked over to an older man in plain clothes who looked like he was in charge. The detective opened the door and shouted, “Pierre,
cuatro chicas están aqui
.”
“I don’t have anything to say to them,” Pierre shouted back. “Tell them to go away.”
The uniformed policeman looked at the girls and shrugged. “Sorry,
señoritas
.”
Feeling defeated, a little freaked out, embarrassed and certainly paranoid, they went down to their room.
Upon entering, OCD Lucy could tell immediately it had been searched. Things just weren’t how they left them.
“Look! This is not where I left my suitcase. It was on the stand and not on the floor.”
Wendy walked into their bathroom. “My toiletries have all been moved around.”
“Don’t they need permission to search our room?” Kate asked. “Or a search warrant or something?”
“We’re in Mexico — who the hell knows?” Vivian sat down on the bed. “We don’t have anything to hide, let them go through it.”
“Let them go through it! Viv, this is our stuff!” Lucy stood in front of her, hands on hips. “They probably didn’t even wear gloves! God knows what sorts of bacterial bugs they left behind.”
“Lucy, it’s going to be okay. We’ll buy some Lysol or something.”
Lucy gave Vivian a sideways glance and a huff.
Kate opened the room safe. “Looks like our cash is still here.”
“Thank goodness,” Vivian said.
“Yeah.” Wendy sat down on the other bed. “We might need that for more bribes.”
“We need to regroup.” Kate eased down next to Vivian. “Figure out what we should do.”
“What we should do?” Vivian held her hands up in frustration. “What can we do?”
“Viv, you could be in serious trouble here,” Kate said. “We need to talk about it.”
“I told Detective Vega that I didn’t have anything to do with, with …” she stammered. It was difficult for her to bring herself to say it. “With his death.”
“Do you think they’ll charge Vivian with murder?” Lucy asked Kate.
“This is Mexico and from stories I’ve heard, they pin crimes on Americans without doing a thorough investigation just because.”
“I agree, we need to figure this out,” Wendy said. “We have to keep Vivian out of Mexican jail.”
“Let’s go to the pool for this discussion.” Lucy tapped her foot in nervousness. “I don’t really want to be in the room right now.”
“I’ll run downstairs real quick to see if the reporter and photographer are still here,” Wendy said, opening the door. She returned in a minute. “Coast is clear. There are a few policemen, but I think we’ve faced the worst of those already.”
Lucy took a quick shower to wash off the “grit, grime and funk” from the station, then they threw on their swimsuits, grabbed the sunscreen, and were outta there.
“I know it’s early, but I could use a drink,” Vivian said as they exited the lobby. “My hands won’t quit shaking.”
The girls walked to the poolside bar and ordered Tiempo Loco tequila shots.
Vivian raised her glass, “To Jon-ola.” Tears welled in her eyes and her voice broke on the “ola.”
The other girls chimed in, “To Jon-ola.”
Vivian reached for a napkin before the water works began again. She had a feeling this would be the first of several drinks this afternoon to help numb the pain.
They ordered a bucket-o-beer, found four poolside lounge chairs and settled in.
Kate got right to the situation. “Viv, maybe we should find you a local attorney. You might need some help to get out of this.”
The welling of tears spilled out.
How could this have happened
? Vivian thought.
“I wouldn’t know what attorney to call or who to trust,” Vivian said in a shaky voice. “How will I know they would truly help me and not just take my money?”
“What about calling Rick?” Lucy adjusted the umbrella for better coverage. “You are still technically married to him, and he is a criminal defense attorney after all.”
The thought of calling Rick for help put an end to Vivian’s crying. “There’s no way in hell I’m calling him for help. I’m clearly not his priority, and, who knows, he could use this against me. Besides, there’s only one head he’s thinking with right now, and it’s not the one containing his brain. Let’s see how today pans out. Maybe Detective Vega was just trying to scare us.”
“Sorry for bringing up dickwad’s name, but I think we need to look into all our options,” Lucy said.
The girls kept plodding forward. “Maybe we should buy some calling cards,” Kate said.
“And give me Rick’s number.”
“And your parents,” Lucy said.