Authors: Joan Rylen
“Arturo, if we had time to search only one, which do you think would be the most likely?”
He paused for a moment. “
Del Carmen
. It’s downtown and closest to the hotels.”
“Ok, what’s the address? We’ll head there next.”
He gave her the address and she repeated it while Wendy wrote it down.
“Thanks so much Arturo. Sorry if we woke you.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be in touch if I hear anything.”
They wound their way through the streets of Playa and came to
Iglesias Señora del Carmen
church, where a car was parked out front.
“That car looks like a piece of crap rental like ours if you ask me,” Lucy said with disdain.
“This could be it!” Vivian was excited, hoping they could take Stella into custody. “Citizens arrests or not, I’m not leaving this church without Stella.”
“Amen to that,” Kate said as they got out of the car.
“Yeah, we’re takin’ this hussy down!” Wendy whispered.
“I’ll show her floozy!” Vivian responded.
The church looked relatively small with a flat stucco façade and peeling white paint, a few small openings and a typical bell in a small arch centered above the entry. The shaped parapet leading up to the bell was outlined in a band of blue paint. As they pushed open the ornate iron gates, the hinges creaked with age.
Kate whispered, “I feel like we’re going to Taco Hell!”
“I think the offering plate must be falling short here,” Pierre muttered.
Lucy shushed him as he grabbed at the decorative giant wooden door and pulled.
Unlike the other churches, this one opened.
THE GIRLS and Pierre tip-toed into
Iglesias Señora del Carmen
and paused, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness. The church was lit only by a few prayer candles and what little moonlight shown through the windows.
Vivian saw a dark lump of something in front of the altar. That something suddenly sat up, facing the back wall.
“Are you here, God?”
They all stopped dead in their tracks. Silence.
“Can you hear me?” This time the voice was a little louder.
Everyone looked at Vivian, eyebrows raised. She nudged Pierre to respond.
Please, God, don’t strike us with lightning for this
!
“Yes, I can hear you, my child. I am here,” Pierre answered calmly, making his voice extra low. “I want to help you.”
“Oh thank you, thank you,” the woman’s voice responded with relief. Suddenly the dark form was upright, reaching skyward to the crucified Jesus on the cross. “I knew you would hear me.”
Just then the door opened behind them, and Arturo nudged his way in.
“What are you doing here?” Vivian whispered.
“I felt like you needed me.” He put a finger to his lips.
Pierre had gone up a few pews and was crouched down. “Tell me, child, why are you here?”
“I’ve done something,” she stammered. “Something terrible.”
“Confess your sins.”
Damn, he’s good
!
The girls crouched down low behind the last pew. Arturo got next to Vivian and they both peeked over.
Stella was looking up at the Jesus. “I think there was an accident, and I didn’t mean to do it. I just got so mad.”
“Tell me more.”
“Dominik was dancing with this woman. A woman not his wife! He was kissing her!”
“And that upset you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you do something?”
She choked back a sob. “I followed them to the beach. They kissed again, and I knew I had to take up for Celeste. She beat breast cancer, even after the hospital almost killed her by administering three times the dose of morphine. She’s been nothing but faithful to Dominik and was right by his side while he recuperated from the car crash off a cliff where he lost his memory and was almost eaten alive while awaiting rescue. How could he do this to her? And that sweet, little premature baby?”
Stella paused to take a raggedy breath. “The other woman finally left and I confronted him. I told him he was wrong for cheating on Celeste. He kept saying he wasn’t Dominik. That his name was Jon and that he wasn’t married. Why would he lie?”
The church was very still. Vivian held her breath.
Pierre hung his head, upset, then looked up and responded. “And then what happened?”
Her voice shifted from despair to anger. “I, I,” she stammered. “I grabbed a shell from the sand and swung at him. I didn’t mean to hurt him but he made me so angry! She’s recovering from the burns she got in the explosion.”
Stella put her head in her hands, sobbing. “He fell down and I ran, but I just wanted him to leave that floozy alone and go back home to Celeste. She needs him!”
She paused for a breath, then said in a weak voice, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”
“What didn’t you know?”
“I didn’t know he was dead. That I killed him.” Stella drew in a breath and wailed, “God, help me!”
Arturo looked at Vivian, eyebrows raised.
“I must arrest her,” he said, touching around his waist. He looked down, then shook his head. “
Aye, ya yai
. I arrested someone today and didn’t get my cuffs back.”
A 100-watt went off in Vivian’s head. “Hold on a sec!” She reached into her purse, dug around and pulled out Shorty’s red, fuzzy handcuffs. She dangled them in front of Arturo’s face. “Will these help?”
He rolled his eyes but took them anyway. “I’ll never live this down.”
He quietly tip-toed up the aisle to Stella, who was still kneeling at the foot of the giant cross, crying. He popped a fuzzy handcuff on her left wrist.
“You are under arrest for the murder of Jon Tournay.”
Day 6
VIVIAN WATCHED as Arturo walked Stella up the aisle of
Del Carmen
Catholic Church toward the heavy wooden doors.
Wendy leaned over to Vivian and said solemnly, “Probably not the walk down the aisle she envisioned for herself, huh?”
“I’d say not. Poor delusional woman.”
As she passed them she looked at Vivian. “This is all your fault, you…you…marriage-wrecker.”
The girls all said in unison, “He wasn’t married!”
Rays of sun peeked through the doors as Arturo opened them up to the break of a glorious day. He led Stella outside just as several police cars pulled up.
As they followed them out the door of the church, Vivian asked Arturo, “How did the police know to show up here?”
Arturo grinned and answered, “Oh, Detective Vega just has a way of knowing where you’ll be.”
What is that supposed to mean
?
Did we miss a tracking device on the car
?
Did he plant something in my purse
?
Speaking of Detective Vega, he walked up looking worn out. And pissed. “So I see we have found Stella. You still can’t leave the country. No charges have been filed yet.”
“But she confessed. Arturo heard her.” Vivian protested.
“She had not been read her rights, so the confession will not hold up, if it happened.”
If it happened, asshole
.
“What about the DNA? Did you run it?” Wendy asked.
He turned and walked away. Obviously not a morning person.
Vega shouted orders to the
policia
and techs who spread out over the grounds and inside the church. One guy snapped pictures while the rest searched in and around everything. A pair of cops went through the other crappy car out front, that was then hooked to a tow truck. The techs dusted the altar and cross for prints.
Another detective briefly interviewed the girls and Pierre individually. Their stories matched and there was no cause for concern. Just needed statements, the detective told Vivian.
Arturo spoke with Vega, then led Stella to a patrol car, getting jabs from his counterparts over the red fuzzy handcuffs, and sat her in the back seat. He slammed the door and patted the top of the car.
As the patrol car pulled away Stella looked out the window at them, tears streaming down her face. Vivian couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She needed meds.
“That lady is bonkers.” Kate shook her head.
“Yep,” Wendy said, watching the car turn the corner. “But I have a feeling Mexico isn’t a plead insanity kinda place.”
The group stayed and watched as the crime scene investigation winded down. The priest showed up and blessed everyone within sight, including the girls and Pierre. Vega seemed irritated at the priest’s presence and wrapped things up quick.
“The donger needs food,” Lucy said as the police took off, including Vega. “And right now, I’m the donger.”
“I’m a donger too,” Vivian said and laughed.
Wendy and Kate both said they were dongers.
“Back in the day, Jon was in love with Molly Ringwald,” Pierre said.
“Let’s have breakfast in his honor,” Kate suggested.
“Celebrate him,” Vivian said.
“I think he would like that.”
Arturo was just getting in his car and Vivian asked him where to go since his suggestions had proved to be good so far. He recommended a Mexican version of Denny’s. They were all a little riled up after leaving the church and ate a monster breakfast. It kicked ass. Vivian didn’t know if it was the resolution with Stella or real hunger, but the south of the border version of “moons over my hammy” was the best egg, ham and cheese toasted sandwich she had ever had.
Pierre talked a little about Jon, remembering some good times. The blow-out of a party they’d had in high school where people jumped off the roof into the pool and Pierre lost his virginity; the Mardi Gras trip they’d taken in college where they’d handed out tons of beads to all the ‘worthy’ women on Bourbon Street; the spur of the moment trip they’d taken to London that almost caused Jon to miss a red carpet event for the soap. He showed up in jeans and a t-shirt, but still made all the best dressed lists.
Wendy got out her camera and pulled up the picture of Jon and Vivian with the sandcastle, on the day they met. Seeing his picture saddened the group but this was a breakfast of celebration so, eyes just a little watery, they did a cheers to Jon with their orange juice and coffee.
“To the best friend a guy could have,” Pierre said.
“To the best kisser in all of Mexico,” Vivian said.
“To his interesting choice in shirts,” Wendy said.
“To the shots he bought us,” Lucy said.
“To our friend, who we will remember in our hearts always, Jon,” Kate said.
To lighten the mood, Lucy and Pierre re-created the church scene for their waitress. Lucy knelt in front of their table, using the carafe of coffee as the cross. The group had a good laugh at Lucy’s impersonation of Stella, but the waitress didn’t seem to get it.
“Lost in translation, maybe?” Pierre said and laughed.
Vivian had wanted to take a nap in the shade, out by the pool, but by the time they got back to the hotel, sleeping by the pool no longer sounded like the best idea. Her adrenaline was long gone and breakfast filled her to the rim. All she wanted was a comfy bed to crash in. On their way up to the room, Pierre asked Lucy if she’d like to join him in his room. She politely declined, but Vivian thought a teeny weeny, itsy bitsy super miniscule part of her was tempted.
Trashy
.
They sleep for about five hours, got on their suits and zombie-walked to the beach, wanting to enjoy it on their last day of vacation. Manuel had loungers ready and double umbrella'd them since Vivian was so sunburned. He also brought them a round of complimentary Tiempo Loco tequila shots, including one for himself. He toasted to freedom and clinked glasses with each of them. Apparently he’d heard about Stella’s arrest. He gathered up the empties, stepped in front of them, shook his hips a little and gave them his version of “Jailhouse Rock.”
It was a doozy, and definitely woke Vivian up.
Wendy had ordered them a bucket-o-beer so they sat back and relaxed a bit after Manuel dropped it off, still humming.
“What are we going to do about our passports?” Vivian asked after a while, digging her feet into the sand.
“We may be headin’ over to the reporters and giving them a story of American hostages being held in Playa if we don’t hear somethin’ soon,” Wendy said.
“Hey look, there’s Arturo!” Lucy said, poppin’ out of her lounger. She ran over to greet him and walked back, her arm looped through his, looking pleased.
“He has our passports!” she announced.
“Yes, I do.” He reached into his pocket and handed the passports to Lucy. He then turned to Vivian, “I also brought these.” He held up and shook the red, fuzzy handcuffs Vivian had swiped from Shorty’s boat.
“Thought you might want these back.”
VIVIAN SAT up in her beach lounger and snatched the red, feathered, fuzzy handcuffs out of Arturo’s hand with a mischievous grin. “Oh yeah, these are my new lucky cuffs.”
“Never know when you’ll need to make a late-night arrest,” he joked, sitting down on the end of Lucy’s lounger and gave Vivian a wink.
Now that I’m about to be single, never know, indeed
.
“I thought I’d pass on that Stella is being arraigned on Friday,” Arturo said. “She gave another confession to Detective Vega, same story as the one in the church, and we found the murder weapon in her motel room.”
“How did she kill Jon exactly?” Vivian questioned.
“She sliced his jugular with a large, broken piece of shell. He didn’t stand a chance.”
Everyone was solemn and quiet for a moment.
Vivian looked out at the ocean, remembering how Jon had picked up a conch shell the night of their walk and given it to her. Little did either of them know he would be mortally wounded by such a thing only minutes later.
“So she just happened to find a murderous shell handy, at night, on the beach?” Wendy asked. “That’s hard to believe.”
“Not really,” Arturo said. “The inside of the shells gleam in the moonlight when they’re wet and some are very sharp. Here, I’ll show you.”