Diver Down (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (28 page)

Aaron called The Aviary back and got us in. Then I had him call the front desk and ask for a golf cart. Lucia and Graeme protested, saying they could walk. By the time we got to the restaurant I was seriously questioning their sanity. If anyone had an excuse to stay in bed, it was them. Instead, they hobbled up the wide stone staircase, read the sign that shoes weren’t allowed, and kicked them off as the sommelier opened the door to best restaurant on the island all smiles and charm.
 

The Aviary was as I expected having eaten at a lot of best restaurants with Myrtle and Millicent, starched tablecloths, clean lines, good art on the walls, but not great. The difference was the staff. They were dressed in casual island wear and all barefoot. Lucia and Graeme chatted up the bartender and found out the no shoes policy had to do with the atmosphere they were going for and a strong dislike of sand on the floor. Lucia proceeded to meet three of the five other tables. She was as bad as Dad. We couldn’t get through a meal without meeting someone new or talking to someone he knew on a case eight years ago in Seattle.

To my relief, the restaurant wasn’t dedicated to crab. The menu was small, but varied, and they had steak, thank goodness.
 

“Okay. Don’t drink anything that isn’t opened in front of you. Aaron, how about you order for me?” I said.
 

He rubbed his hands together so fast I thought he’d start a fire.
 

“But no crab.”

The rubbing stopped.

“Because you already made me crab cakes today.”
 

“Okay. Okay. They got cucumber chawan mushi.”
 

What the what?

“Okay,” I said, weakly. “Go with your instincts.”
 

Aaron looked so happy, it was almost worth it. I left him explaining the menu to Lucia and Graeme and I escaped outside with Lucia’s phone to call Chuck.
 

“Hello,” said a gruff voice.
 

“Chuck?” I asked.
 

“Mercy?”
 

“Yeah, I had to use Lucia’s phone. You don’t sound so good. Where are you?”
 

“In Venezuela.”
 

“What the hell are you doing in Venezuela?”
 

“Trying to get to you.”
 

I got teary-eyed. I never thought that would happen in regard to Chuck, unless he was dead or something.

“Mercy?”
 

“Yeah.”
 

“Are you…crying?”

“I’m not crying, you dufus. What are you doing in Venezuela? That’s not even close to Honduras.”
 

“Closer than I was. Actually, I was flying into Belize, but there was some kind of situation at the airport, so we got sent to Venezuela. I’m getting on a plane to Nicaragua in an hour.”
 

“Can’t you fly into Honduras?”
 

“No, I’m taking a bus over, baby.”
 

“What a nightmare.”
 

“But I’ll get there.”
 

“What did you find out?”
 

Chuck’s connection, Spidermonkey, had found out quite a bit, but none of it was particularly helpful. The The Gmucas were connected to the Belotti family in Las Vegas. They specialized in cocaine trafficking, but were fairly minor players with no ties to the Fibonaccis or the Todaros in New York. The Gmucas, themselves, had little credit card debt, no history of gambling, but they had been arrested twice for breaking and entering. The charges were dropped, but it wasn’t clear why. There was nothing in Lucia or Graeme’s histories that would make them targets other than Lucia’s family.
 

“Any large deposits?” I asked.

“Just regular income. Why?”
 

“They’re getting money from a guy named Tony.”
 

“And you know this because?” asked Chuck.
 

“It’s a long story. So there’s no suspicious transactions?”
 

“None at all. There’s no reason to think the Gmucas are involved.”

Groan.

“It could be random,” said Chuck. “It’s been known to happen.”
 

“Multiple attempts by a random assailant? Isn’t that more of a drive by shooting kind of deal?”
 

“I’m grasping at straws here. Who else was on the boat during the stabbing?”

“Todd Pell was on the boat. He’s on vacation with his wife and kids and Aaron was with him during the second poisoning attempt.”
 

“I’ll check him out anyway. Who else?”
 

I told him about the frat boys and that got him interested. His reaction to Colin grabbing my ass made me smile. Colin might find himself with a bloody nose. The airline announced that Chuck’s plane was boarding and before we said goodbye Chuck said, “Call your boyfriend.”
 

“What?”
 

“You aren’t answering his texts, so he called me.”
 

“Why would he call you of all people?” I asked.

“The last time he called your mother, she asked him how many children he wants.”
 

“What did he say?” I asked.

“He doesn’t know,” said Chuck.
 

I wasn’t surprised. Pete’s plans didn’t usually go beyond his next shift.

“He’s busy,” I said.
 

“So am I, but I have plans,” said Chuck. “Want to know what my plans are?”
 

“Not if they have anything to do with me.”
 

“They do.”
 

“Goodbye.”
 

I hung up, but stayed on the front deck of The Aviary, watching the small orange sun dip into the ocean. Beautiful and calming. Well, it was until Mom and Aunt Tenne walked by. They were fighting again. Something about dinner. I’m guessing Aunt Tenne was having dinner with Bruno and Mom wasn’t thrilled. I was supposed to be doing something about Mom. I did promise, but Mom was crazy. There was no cure for that.
 

“Miss Watts?” Our waiter smiled at me from The Aviary’s door. “Your appetizer has been served.”
 

“Thank you. What is it?”
 

“Cucumber chawan mushi.”

“Give it to me straight. How bad is it?” I asked with a grimace.

“It’s a Japanese egg custard with cucumber and tomato gelee. It’s unusual, but quite good.”
 

“I’m going to hold you to that.”
 

He grinned and held open the door for me. “I’m not worried.”
 

The mushi sat in the middle of a dessert plate in a highball glass and the waiter was right. It was kind of good once you got used to savory custard and jellied tomatoes. I ate the whole thing and then had a great steak that Aaron had ordered specially for me. It had aspic of something on it and I’ve learned to stop listening when the word aspic comes up. Lucia and Graeme had all kinds of crazy stuff that Aaron had ordered for them and ate more than I expected. We were waiting for dessert, a flourless chocolate cake with a concord grape reduction in my case, when the frat boys walked in. I should say two of them walked in. The third was dragged. Colin had a split lip, a black eye, his diamond earring had been ripped out of his ear, and, unless I was seeing things, he had handprints on his neck.
 

“Do you see that?” asked Lucia. “Maybe someone tried to kill him, too.”
 

“We should ask,” said Graeme.
 

“I’ll look into it, but I don’t think it’s the same person,” I said.
 

Lucia leaned closer to me. “Why not?”
 

“Beating someone up is pretty direct. All the attempts on you have been on the down low.”

Colin shoved Andrew away from him and made for the door. Joe got him by the back of the shirt and steered him toward their table.
 

“I don’t want to be here,” said Colin.

“Too freaking bad,” said Joe. “Andrew wants a nice dinner. This is supposed to be his week.”
 

Colin glanced around the dining room, spotted me, and his angry face turned lecherous. Great. I’m catnip to the criminal-minded.
 

“No, you don’t,” said Andrew. “Sit down and shut up.”

It took both Andrew and Joe to get Colin in his chair and a double scotch to get him to stay there.
 

The waiter put my cake in front of me with a flourish. I took a huge bite and melted like the chocolate drizzled on the plate. It was so good I almost didn’t mind Colin staring. Halfway through my cake, I caught him looking at Lucia and then Graeme. Actually, it wasn’t Graeme he was interested in. It was the heavy Omega Seamaster watch on his wrist. Colin caught me looking at him and he licked his split lip.

Yeah, you’re real enticing.
 

I looked at Graeme’s watch again. It was five grand easy. Colin wasn’t looking at it because he admired it. Lucia’s wallet had gone missing along with her inhaler. Colin could be the one. Joe said he was desperate and in debt. Maybe he was a low-rent hitman. That would explain why he was so bad at it.
 

“What do you know about Colin, Andrew, and Joe?” I asked Graeme.

“Nothing,” he said. “They’re here to celebrate Andrew’s wedding. Colin’s some kind of screw-up, I gather.”

“Have you ever met them before? Or heard of them?”
 

“No,” said Lucia, her cheeks flushed. “Do you think they did it?”
 

“I think everybody did it for now.”
 

Aaron had the menu in front of him and was studying like there was going to be a final. I tapped it and he lowered it just enough for me to see his glasses. “Huh?”

“What do you know about Colin, Joe, and Andrew?”

“Andrew likes his burgers with avocado. Joe likes burgers with bacon and barbecue sauce. Colin doesn’t—”

“Stop right there,” I said. “Do you know anything about them that isn’t food-related?”
 

“No.”
 

“Never mind.”
 

Aaron put the menu back up and muttered something about sriracha sauce. Not helpful.

“You know what? I have an errand to run. You three stay here,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
 

“What about your cake?” asked Lucia.

“Don’t let them take it. I’m totally going to eat that.”
 

“Where are you going?” asked Graeme. “I can help.”
 

“You can’t stand up straight. I’ll be fine.” I slipped out the side door when Colin and company were ordering and crossed my fingers.

The frat boys’ door picked as easy as the Gmucas’ did. I stepped inside and the smell of boys’ locker room hit me. But there was something else, too. I couldn’t quite place it with all that guy stink floating around. I flipped on the light and gasped. Yes, I actually gasped. The room was that gross. They must’ve kept the maid out all week. There was dirty underwear everywhere on every surface, bloody towels wadded up on a chair, half-empty takeout containers, and a few pizza boxes. But that didn’t account for all the smell. I opened the bathroom door and it made me fondly remember the cabinet under the Gmucas’ sink, roach goo and all.
 

Somebody had been sick and I mean
The Exorcist
kind of sick. They had spewed. Having spent serious time in ERs, it smelled like drunk sick to me. I was guessing scotch and Colin. There was a pool of yellow next to the toilet and I wished it was pee. It was bile, the kind of stuff that comes out when a person only drinks and eats nothing. Come to think of it, I’d never seen Colin eat. Maybe that was what Aaron was going to say when I cut him off. The little guy did know something. I didn’t know how useful it was, but alcoholics were known to get desperate.
 

I stood there with my hand over my mouth. That wasn’t all though. There was another smell. I closed the bathroom door and picked my way through the room. I ended up where I started next to the back door, standing beside their metal ice bucket and that was it. The bucket had ashes in it. Quite a few actually. One little corner of paper had escaped the inferno and it looked like a receipt to me. If I were Hercules Poirot, I would’ve had a handy hatbox with me and a mustache wax melter thingy, so I could figure out what the burned papers said. I made a mental note to ask Dad if the hatbox trick would really work, but I probably shouldn’t. I was always disappointed with his answers and I looked stupid in the process.
 

There were no drugs anywhere in the room, except for aspirin. No stingray barbs, antifreeze, or regulators. It was pretty disappointing. I was so ready to find some concrete evidence. I tiptoed over underwear and relocked the door to ultimate grossness and forced myself to go back to The Aviary instead of the front desk to report the biohazard bungalow.
 

As I walked down the path, I heard whispering. I ducked behind a flower-covered bush and the Gmucas tiptoed onto the path from another bungalow, not their own. What the heck? They were sweaty and flushed.