Chocolate Cherry Cheater Read online

  “So, let me get this right. She was going to break up with her boyfriend on the ride back to Ambato?” That seemed a bit harsh after the long drive he’d have had to make to get there.

  “Oh, no. She knew he had reservations at her favorite restaurant. She was going to wait until after they ate.”

  How considerate of her, I thought sarcastically. To Carolina, I said, “That’s smarter.”

  Carolina nodded. “She was smart. She knew how to get what she wanted, and she went for it. I always admired that about Christina.” She dabbed something (probably shimmery) around the corners of my eyes.

  Beside me, Abuelita’s voice demanded, “You know what you doing, Rosa?”

  “You no worry. I copy what artist do. You beautiful,” Tia Rosa answered.

  With Tia Rosa’s love of color, I prayed she hadn’t made Abuelita up like a kaleidoscope.

  Carolina said, “I just need to finish up your eyes, and then we're done. Do you have any more questions for me?”

  “Yeah, do you think you could help me get in touch with Hugo?” As difficult as it had been for us to talk with Carolina, I would take all the help I could get to contact the cameraman.

  Carolina pinched her lips together for a second before replying, “He’s been avoiding me ever since Lake Quilotoa. The last thing I want to do is draw his attention to me. You’d better be careful around him. He gives me the creeps.”

  “I’ll be careful.” That was the weird thing about investigating murders. You never knew when you were having a conversation with the person who had killed the victim. Now, that was creepy.

  “Tell you what. I’ll let you in the tech room. He’ll have to leave his camera there when he gets back. I heard that he and Daniel had an interview, but they’ll have to come back in time for the evening broadcast. Daniel’s filling in for Christina. You won’t have to wait long.”

  She raised the lip pencil she held up, smirking in satisfaction. “There. All done,” Carolina said as she lifted the back of my chair up so I could see her handiwork.

  Chapter 20

  I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror, and a sense of dread filled me as the rest of the day played out in my mind. All the attention I worked so hard to avoid, the preferential treatment based on a painted-on appearance, the false confidence that would leave me feeling used up and empty when I washed my face.

  It was high school all over again. The popular guy would ask me out on the day Jessamyn did my makeup, only to pretend he didn’t know me the next day when she’d run out of time to do my face before classes. I’d been nice and pretended nothing had happened, but I hated how the memory still stung.

  Abuelita looked over at me, “Hot mama! You beautiful!”

  I caught my first glimpse of her new look and returned the compliment.

  She waved her hand at me. “Rosa love color. She make me look like the clown, but I good sister and let her.”

  Tia Rosa raised Abuelita’s chair until it was upright, saying triumphantly, “You beautiful too, Bertha!”

  Abuelita looked in the mirror. She seemed to grow several inches as she preened at her reflection.

  Carolina admired Tia Rosa’s work. “You blended her complexion to perfection.”

  The harsh angles of Abuelita’s face had softened to curves, and the pink tones Tia Rosa had used added a warm, youthful glow to her sister’s face.

  Abuelita smiled into the mirror, meeting my look and wiggling her eyebrows. “I hot mama too!”

  “Yes, you are,” I said without chuckling.

  Carolina glanced at her watch. “I have to go, but I’ll let you into the tech room so nobody questions why you’re hanging out here.”

  Tia Rosa beamed when Abuelita swaggered behind Carolina like she owned the place.

  “I happy I use the pink,” Tia Rosa whispered to me, pinching her fingers together. “I this close for to use the yellow.”

  “I’m happy you used pink, too,” I said, grateful for both sisters’ sakes that Tia Rosa hadn’t made Abuelita look jaundiced.

  Carolina took us to a room full of shelves covered with cameras, microphones, assorted cords, and recording equipment. She introduced us to the guy in charge, a lanky figure who looked like he was fresh out of high school. He had no problem with us hanging around. He was too interested in the video game he played on the computer to mind us.

  Abuelita pranced around him, admiring her reflection on the blank second monitor crowding his gaming station.

  I looked around the room, hoping we wouldn’t have much longer to wait. There were serial numbers marking everything on the shelves. I asked the gamer, “Do you have to keep an inventory of all the camera equipment here?”

  “That’s my job. I track the equipment and fix things. This stuff is imported and expensive, so the station makes sure it’s all accounted for at the end of the day. It’s an important job,” he said without looking up from his computer screen.

  “You have a great setup,” I said.

  That earned a pleased grin. “Sweet, isn’t it? Nobody bothers me in here, and so long as all the equipment is accounted for, the boss is happy.”

  Just when I was about to ask his opinion of his coworkers, Hugo entered the room, his arms loaded with gear he and the tech guy logged in one-by-one. When his hands were free, Hugo reached into his backpack and pulled out a paper bag which he handed to the gamer.

  I knew what it was without seeing it. My stomach rumbled at the smell of the delicious hamburger. My cheese and fig sandwich had worn off.

  Tech guy said, “Oh, cool! Hey, thanks for picking this up. Do you have my change?”

  I stepped away from the shelf, and Hugo finally saw me as he pulled out his wallet. I must have startled him. His fingers fumbled his wallet, sending its contents to the floor. A picture slipped toward me, and I picked it up. It was a headshot of Christina.

  I looked at her picture and handed it back to him.

  Hugo snatched it out of my hand and stuffed it back into his wallet, avoiding eye contact with me.

  “She was beautiful,” I said.

  Hugo dumped the tech guy’s change on the edge of his desk and turned to the door like he would leave.

  Following him, I said, “Hugo, I’m so sorry about Christina. You worked closely with her for a long time, and you must have become close friends.”

  He nodded his head.

  I continued, “I’m sorry for your loss. I want to help find the person responsible for her death. Can I ask you a couple of questions?”

  He spun around to face me. “Did Agent Sanchez send you?” he asked.

  I answered his question with one of my own. “What did you tell her?”

  Hugo’s eyes darted around the room. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop asking questions.” He spun on his heel and slipped out of the door.

  Had Hugo just threatened me?

  I followed him to the elevator, with every intention of asking him what he meant when Daniel stepped out of the elevator and blocked my path.

  “Jessica James. Have you solved the murder and come to give me the exclusive?” he said, looking me up and down with an appreciative smile that grossed me out.

  He stepped uncomfortably close when I tried to move around him. Trying the other direction was just as futile, and when the elevator doors closed letting Hugo get away before I’d learned anything useful, I was peeved at the roadblock in front of me.

  Lifting my chin, I said, “No. I haven’t figured out who killed your girlfriend yet, and I’m surprised you can speak of it with such ease.”

  Daniel’s smile didn’t falter. Putting a hand on my arm, he said, “Come to my office and we’ll discuss the case.”

  I shook his arm off and stepped away. “No, thank you,” I said.

  “Lunch then? I know a great little place that makes the best shawarma you’ve ever had.”

  Abuelita stepped around me to jab Daniel in the chest with her pointy finger. “You the killer.”
/>   Daniel laughed. “Me? You’re crazy.”

  Abuelita nodded and jabbed into his chest again. “Christina break you.”

  “Huh?” He looked at me as if I could explain what she meant.

  Tia Rosa explained, “No is break you. Is break up. Christina broke up for Daniel.”

  Almost, but not quite. I said, “It’s ‘broke up with.’”

  Daniel shook his head violently. “Christina would never break up with me.”

  His overconfidence irked me. “She got a better job. She was going to leave you.”

  He chuckled as if I had just told him a joke. “She was going to settle in and gain the ear of the executives at UIO News before putting in a good word for me. I already signed a lease on an apartment in Quito. We’d continue working together, helping each other out. We were going to be a power couple.”

  Abuelita asked, “How you help her?”

  Tia Rosa clucked her tongue. “You no help Christina. You take, take, take.”

  Daniel’s face turned red, and he checked his watch. “Whatever. I’m busy, and you’re horrible investigators if you think I killed her.” He tried to step around us.

  Blocking his path like he’d done to me seconds ago, I asked, “If you didn’t do it, then who did?” Hugo had slipped away from me, and I would not move until I got some answers from Daniel.

  He paused, so I continued as fast as I could speak, trying to get a reaction from him. “We know Christina’s crew left the lagoon without her because she had planned to meet with you. We saw your car at the parking lot. It’s on the video that aired a few days ago on SierraVista. You were there. As far as we know, you were the last person to see Christina alive.”

  Daniel’s shoulders rose to his ears. “Look, I was there. I did have plans to meet Christina. We had reservations at her favorite restaurant. However,” he looked up and down the hallway before lowering his voice and saying, “she stood me up.”

  “You didn’t see her?” I asked.

  He pressed his shoulders down and straightened his tie. “If you think I did it, you're after the wrong guy. There were dozens of female reporters at the lagoon that day, every one of them jealous because they knew Christina had been hired to replace the senior reporter at UIO News.”

  The ease with which he shifted suspicion off of himself felt rehearsed. I said, “I thought nobody knew about her promotion.”

  He leaned toward me. “I didn’t tell anyone, but we’re reporters. If we want to find something out, there’s always a way. A few bucks slipped to an informant, and I bet that most of the women at the lagoon knew. Christina was a target.”

  “You keep saying female reporters. Why couldn’t it have been a male?” He so easily excused himself from the group.

  Daniel said, “It was in the job description. UIO News was looking to replace the retired reporter with a younger woman. I didn’t even bother to apply, but I was willing to hang around and bide my time until another opportunity presented itself. It’s all about being in the right place at the right time.”

  Or, like Christina, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The way Daniel so easily dismissed her death convinced me he was capable of murder.

  When he brushed his fingers over my arm and smiled at me again, I was as close as Tia Rosa had been to choosing yellow and believing Abuelita was right about Daniel.

  “Come to my office, and we can discuss the matter further. Or, better yet, stay in the city and join me for dinner. I’ll even drive you home,” he offered. “Viewers would love to see an exclusive interview with the gorgeous lady touted as Baños’ own private investigator.”

  There was no way I’d agree to spend any time alone with a guy I strongly suspected of murdering his girlfriend. And I definitely wouldn’t do anything to make him look good.

  Abuelita answered for me. “We no eat with killers.”

  My mind reeled as we made our way through the lobby and out to the city streets. If Daniel killed Christina, it wasn’t over the job. But it sure made a good cover for his true motive. Had he been jealous of her success? Had he known Christina intended to dump him and this was his way of retaliating?

  What about Hugo and his threat? There was definitely something boiling under the surface with him.

  All the way back to the bus station, I shuffled the clues, hoping they would click into place and give me a better picture of what had happened at the lagoon.

  But the more I thought about it, the more behind I felt. What if this went beyond Christina’s old news station at AmbatoVision? What if the murderer wasn’t on my list of suspects at all? What if one little key detail changed everything, and I was too late to see it?

  Chapter 21

  Abuelita was in a hurry to get back to the restaurant so she could see the replay of herself on TV from the morning interview with the mayor. She, of course, had wanted to redo the mayor’s interview so she could flaunt her age-defying makeup, but unless she found a TARDIS, that wasn’t going to happen.

  The soap box car races of the morning were done, but traffic was slow on the way home. It was an easy ride, so much so I began to think the horror stories I had heard about the public transportation had been blown out of proportion and that my own negative experiences had been flukes.

  Tia Rosa and Abuelita followed me into the shop where Martha sat behind the counter, gazing out of the window at the last of the protesters packing up to go home.

  It was discouraging to see how many doughnuts were left remaining in the display cases at the end of the business day. It was more than even Domenica could sell.

  Martha greeted us with a big smile. No noise came from the bakery in the back. She must have let everyone go home early. It’s not like she needed the extra help when there was nothing to do.

  Her eyes lit up in expectation. “How the trip go? Did you find the murderer?”

  I was sad to disappoint her. Martha took the running of our business every bit as seriously as I did, and if my doughnut shop couldn’t stand on its feet, it meant she would soon be without a job — a fate I wouldn’t bend to without a fight.

  “No, but we got some interesting leads,” I answered.

  Abuelita huffed. “How many time I tell you is Daniel the killer? Why you no believe me?”

  As if all of our problems would go away if I agreed with Abuelita. “It’s not enough. We need proof.”

  Domenica came into the shop, and I helped Martha pack the remaining doughnuts into boxes for her.

  My stomach grumbled, and I was tempted to follow Tia Rosa and Abuelita to Sylvia’s restaurant, but I still needed to check on Lady. I hadn’t seen her all afternoon. And after Martha’s long day, I wanted to close up the shop so she could go home. It was the least I could do for her help. She told me it was no bother, but I noticed how quickly she gathered her things and left when I offered.

  With the cases empty and the kitchen clean, I pulled down the security door and locked it. My legs felt heavy as I climbed the stairs up to the terrace.

  Lady rushed toward me when I reached the top. Then she put on the brakes, walking slower with a wary look on her face. It said: You smell like her, but you don’t look like her.

  “It’s me, I promise, girl. Somewhere under this shellac,” I said, knowing that even if she didn’t care for my makeover, my unchanged voice would soothe her.

  Cautiously, she poked my knee with her nose, her tail wagging vigorously.

  After scratching around her ears for a few minutes, I refilled her food and water dish and promised to bring her bones from Sylvia’s kitchen. She always saved them for Lady.

  I was too hungry to scrape the paint off of my face until after dinner.

  A smile lifted my spirits as I thought of Abuelita strutting her stuff through the busy city streets. She’d probably sleep in her makeup tonight and hope her eyeliner didn’t smudge or her lipstick smear so she could show off her face tomorrow.

  With Abuelita sashaying in front of me like a seventy-year-old super
model on the catwalk, I hadn’t had to worry so much about unwanted stares. She even signed an autograph and agreed to take a selfie with someone who confused her with Lola’s scheming mother in The Yearning of Lola’s Heart. She’d done the princess wave from the bus window, blowing kisses to her adoring fans.

  No one was in the dining room, so I walked into the kitchen. Abuelita and Tia Rosa had almost finished their dinner, and the rest of the family sat around the island. The little TV on the counter was turned on, so we wouldn’t miss seeing Abuelita on the news.

  “Oh my goodness, you’re gorgeous! When I get my first fashion show, you have to model for me,” squealed Adi.

  Sylvia added, “You look lovely, dear.”

  Jake whistled at Abuelita, who twirled and beamed in response. I wondered how many times he’d had to do that since she’d entered the room.

  “Rosa make me more beautiful,” Abuelita said, elbowing him in the ribs whenever his eyes drifted away from her.

  Tia Rosa hissed at her. “He see you already! You like the little child say ‘Look at me! Look at me!’” She sidled up to Jake, nodding in my direction. “The artist make Jessica beautiful too. You look her? What you think?”

  “Jess is always beautiful,” he said, smiling that crooked smile that set my heart aflutter.

  That was a great answer. I smiled at Jake, feeling like a million bucks, and quickly turned the conversation away from me.

  “How’s your gown coming along?” I asked Adi.

  “If Jake doesn’t get his job back, I’ll hire him as my assistant. His stitches were even, and he didn’t snag or bunch the fabric at all!”

  Jake wasn’t tempted. “I don’t know how you have the patience to do what you do. My admiration increased tenfold today. I knew you worked hard, I just had no idea how hard.”

  I noticed he’d taken off the Band-Aids covering his fingers, the threat of staining Adi’s satin now gone. An erratic polka-dot pattern showed where the needle had exacted its revenge.