The Mamacita Murders (30 page)

“She’s trapped in a prison of her own making. Her thoughts and beliefs are keeping her stuck. That’s what you’re doing. The energy of the Eight of Swords can be frustrating because
you
are the one who holds the key. Her hands are cuffed together but to nothing else. All she has to do is remove her blindfold to find the key. And then she can free herself,” says Angela.

“Why do I do this to myself?” I ask.

“Sometimes, when you are too busy with life, and you rush through your days, ignore those around you, or what the Universe is handing you, you waste time and energy. It’s not the worst thing you can do, but it’s good to slow things down. Things don’t need to be figured out immediately.

“If you had discovered the Mamacita Mason Jar clue the first time it came to you at the Cove, you may have realized what was on those scraps of paper and spoken to Christina sooner. But you never would have visited the Walled City. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” asks Angela.

“I would have never met Señor Santiago-Borges. I would have never experienced the beautiful Walled City, the people, the culture, the passion. I would have never learned the wisdom of my mom and how she lived and loved from the perspective of someone who knew her in a different time. And Dylan and I wouldn’t have realized our love. Is this what you mean?” I ask.

“Precisely,” Angela replies. “Things happen for a reason. Love happens and fails for a reason. People come into your life with a purpose, whether it means to give you a nugget of information to answer a pressing question for the day or for your life. You must never ever question why you ignored these signs. It happened for a reason and you must just let go and trust that the Universe has a plan for you.

“What we do know is that your angels are still sending you signs and clues to help you with your cases. So that’s a good thing. It tells me you’re not abusing them. Keep your eye out and ask the Universe for more signs and clues about love, Dylan, and how to prove Bess’s involvement,” Angela says.

“Where do I look? I’m stuck. That flamingo face I saw in Bess’s home was gone by the time police searched for it. But I know for sure it was there. We can’t even use it, anyway, since I was snooping in her bookshelf without a warrant,” I say.

“Well, keep snooping and stay curious. You have an intuition you haven’t been in tune with. Remember back to when you were a kid. Children have strong intuitions. They are so creative, passionate, excited, and imaginative. They have a sense of wonder. Just because you grow legs and unpleasant emotional experiences over the years doesn’t mean you should lose that.

“You need to make room in your mind and heart for these things again so healthy feelings can energize you and help you grow and become happy again. It’s so easy to get bogged down in your head and analyze everything, breaking the flow of what our gut, our hearts, and what the Universe is telling us,” says Angela.

“I think I know what you’re saying. I shouldn’t disturb my inner child. I need to stop bothering that young playful girl I saw sitting at the edge of the boat playing in the Walled City,” I say.

“Exactly.”

I look back down at the tarot card.

“Why do I feel so afraid?” I ask.

“Because you don’t know how to free yourself and break this case. But you can’t think your way out of this frustration. Especially if you use the same thoughts, logic, and reasoning as you did when you first got into this investigation. The more you struggle, the more stuck you become,” she says.

Looking at the blindfold and tied hands reminds me of how we found Laura in the motel room.

“This card gives you clues to solve this case and loosen the knots you have in your own life. You hold the key.”

“Laura was found tied and blindfolded this same way,” I say.

“But the question is, do you think she could have saved herself?” Angela asks.

I take a deep breath in and let it out. I think of Laura, my mom, and the sex worker in the Walled City.

“I don’t know anymore,” I say hopelessly.

“Gaby, prostitution and domestic violence are forms of slavery. Mentally, the women are stuck in a jail. They’ve been so brainwashed and demeaned,” Angela says.

“I just feel like if I only…” I start before Angela interrupts me.

“Stop! If you only what? Saved them? Helped them? Gaby, don’t you get it? They would need to have a mental breakthrough themselves to escape. Just like you need a breakthrough to let go and forgive yourself over what happened to your mom,” Angela says.

“I know. I realized that in the Walled City. I just need to believe it now. And I need to figure out how I can link Bess to Laura’s assault,” I say.

“Stay as fearless as you can and let the Universe guide you. Isn’t it enough for you to go forward with your case? I mean, knowing in your heart what happened and finding that flamingo face?”

“No, we need solid evidence to prove her mom was involved. Dylan’s even questioning whether I really saw the flamingo face. I need something else. I have nothing.”

“You promised her justice. Your mission has always been to save women, and Laura is one of us.”

“I know, but I need some evidence linking her mom,” I say.

“Keep looking for signs. The Universe seems to be working in your favor right now. The answers will come. Just be patient. Tell me more about the flames you saw on the ocean,” Angela says.

“It was this enormous eruption of flames on the ocean. It was beautiful actually.”

“Were you afraid?”

“No. I knew the flames wouldn’t hurt me. I was up on the rocks and knew I wasn’t in danger.”

“What happened right after the flames stopped?”

“All the water was completely drained from the ocean. I could see all kinds of marine life. Then the dry land started filling back up with water.”

“Hmmm. Like a regression followed by a transgression. What happened right before the flames came?” says Angela inquisitively.

“Laura tossed her cigarette into the ocean.”

“Hmmm,” says Angela curiously. “Don’t ignore the signs that are right in front of you and don’t be too wrapped up in your head to miss these things. Comb through the evidence. The devil is in the details,” Angela says.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I say, standing up and grabbing my purse from the backside of my chair.

“And remember something,” says Angela.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.”

“Right. Albert Einstein. Eight of Swords,” I say, leaving the Angel’s Den.

Thirty minutes after Angela’s angel reading at the Airstream, I sit at my desk still contemplating what to do about Bess. She’s sitting in custody for assaulting me but that won’t bring justice for Laura. I pick up my desk phone and call Dylan.

“We need to dig deeper into Bess’s involvement in the motel assault,” I say.

“Gaby, I don’t know where else to look. Are you sure you even saw that flamingo face at her house?” asks Dylan.

“I can’t believe you’re still questioning that,” I say.

“I just know sometimes you black out or have flashbacks, so I wanted to make sure,” says Dylan.

I purse my lips tightly, forcing myself to stay quiet and think before speaking.

“Yes, I saw it, Dylan,” I say indignantly.

“It’s just that it wasn’t there and…,” Dylan starts before stopping himself. “We don’t have anything else at this point, Gaby,” he continues matter-of-factly.

“Bess’s DNA was found on the belt,” I say dramatically.

“From the beginning, she always said it was hers. Laura borrowed it.”

“Did you check the size of the belt?”

“I don’t remember,” says Dylan.

“Did you compare her prints?” I ask.

“We’re doing that right now. Gaby, what is this all about?” Dylan asks.

“Clown used to sit downstairs at the motel in his car waiting for Laura to get done hooking. I’m wondering if that’s the information he keeps wanting to give us. Maybe he walked up to the room afterwards and saw the mess,” I say.

“If the print’s not hers, I’m not looking any further. We’ve got her in custody for assaulting you anyway,” Dylan says firmly.

“But a part of the murder weapon was found in Bess’s house,” I snap back.

Dylan sighs. “So where should I start?” Dylan asks defeatedly. “All this stuff you’re telling me seems like a stretch.”

“How about we start with this? I know there was a cigarette on the landing outside the motel room along with a soda bottle. Can you get those looked at for DNA? And put a rush on the prints?”

“C’mon Gaby, that stuff is trash. Do you know how many motel guests come and go through that landing. We have no idea how old that stuff is. I’ll check on the fingerprint and we can go from there.”

“You saw how good of a cleaning job that housekeeper was doing when we first got there. She was sweeping the landing, so that stuff couldn’t have been sitting there that long.”

“I’m not doing it. You call Miranda Jules and convince her.”

“She likes
you
. She’ll do it for
you
. She doesn’t like me. If Bess’s DNA is on either of those items, that means she’s lying about not being there. What’s the harm?”

“There is no harm. It’s just a big waste of time. It costs a lot of money. Plus we’re still waiting on the fingerprint comparison.”

“Dylan, Bess smokes,” I say dramatically.

“And I’m sure a lot of guests at that motel do, too.”

“Does it require you to actually lift a finger and do more work, write one more report, make one more arrest, testify in one more trial? Is that what this is about? That you don’t need to lock one more person up?”

“Stop, Gaby.”

“Or is it because it would force you to work with me for a little bit longer? Is that what this is about? Or does it have to do with Miranda Jules? Or does it have to do with you not believing I saw the flamingo face inside Bess’s house. Well, forget it. I’ll call Miranda myself,” I say.

“Gaby, stop. I don’t care about doing more investigation on the case. I care about the case almost as much as you. I want to get the right person just as much as you. I just don’t see the point in looking at this anymore.”

“I’ll order it then.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m the investigator on the case; you’re just the prosecutor. She’s going to call me for approval, anyway. There’s been no arrest for Bess on Laura’s incident, so the case is not with your agency yet. That’s just how it works.”

“Don’t ever talk to me again, Dylan Mack.”

“Gaby, stop. If it’s that important to you, I’ll look into it. Calm down. I’ll run with it like any other lead. I’ll call Miranda today, swing by the Fingerprint Office, and I’ll be at your office in an hour to prepare for Clown’s preliminary hearing,” says Dylan.

29

TRUSTING GUT

Getting ready for Clown’s preliminary hearing, I reread the Fingerprint Office’s report. Dylan reviews his reports.

“I can’t believe this,” I say.

“What are you reading?” he asks.

I look up from the report I’m holding.

“That the thumbprint on the vase matches that disgusting thumb skin we brought back from the Walled City,” I say.

“You mean the thumb skin that
I
brought.”

“Yes, that
you
brought. But
I
sliced,” I say jokingly.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” says Dylan.

“I’ve always told you, you do things your way and I’ll do them my way,” I say.

Dylan and I laugh.

“In all seriousness Dylan, I’m glad we’re only proceeding on the pimping charges against Clown,” I say. “But I still don’t get what the connection is between Bess, Clown and Cruz. And why Cruz was threatening me and Christina in the first place,” I say.

My phone rings and I pick up.

“This is a collect call from an inmate at a correction facility. To accept the call, press one. To not accept the call, press two,” says an automated operator. I press one, even though my office says we’re not supposed to accept collect calls.

“This is Gaby,” I say, putting the call on speaker phone and holding my finger up to my lips, signaling Dylan to stay quiet.

“Ms. Ruiz, this is Javier. I want to give you some information. I know who did this to Laura and it’s not Rodrigo. It’s not Deputy Cruz either. And I swear on your life,” says Javier.

“I don’t believe one word you’re telling me until you go on tape with this,” I say.

“Ain’t doing it,” says Clown.

“Then why’d you call? You must want something from me,” I say.

“Fine. I’ll do it, but you gotta let me out,” he says.

“I can’t. You gotta tell me what you know first, then we go from there. It’s standard procedure,” I say. “Plus, why should I believe you anyway? Like you said, you just want to get out,” I say.