Granny Apples 05 - Ghost in the Guacamole (23 page)

Carlos looked at Phil, a middle-aged, bald white guy, with surprise. “You speak Spanish?”

Phil gave him a grin. “Like a native, but the traffic muffled a lot of the sound.”

For the first time, Carlos offered up a small smile. “I told Bullock that I wanted to make sure T.J. and Rikki would not be hurt, no matter what happened. He assured me they just wanted the document.” He stretched. “After, I did what T.J. and Jeremiah told me to do, I stashed the money, but didn't look for that agreement again.”

“When did you first hear about the shooting at Roble?” Emma asked.

“On the TV,” Carlos said, taking another long pull on his straw. “Man, I freaked out. I called T.J. but he didn't pick up, so I called Jeremiah. He told me the cops knew about my meeting with Bullock so I should pack up and leave as soon as possible before they questioned me. He gave me an address where I could crash until it all got straightened out. As soon as my mother got home, that's exactly what I did. I haven't been home since. She's probably worried sick, but Jeremiah said I wasn't to contact her.”

“But why did you run instead of just answering questions?” Emma asked. “You could have told the police what you're telling us.”

Carlos shook his head and laughed, but not a happy laugh. “Lady, you were there the day Lucy accused me of being a
cholo,
and she's one of us. The cops would have been worse. They wouldn't have questioned me with respect like they probably did you. They would have cuffed me and dragged my ass in, deciding I was the shooter, and not looked any further for the truth. Jeremiah's black and a former cop. He knows how it is so he stashed me away except for today to watch Bullock.”

Emma looked at the young man. Worry for his family was etched deep into his smooth face. “Give me your mother's phone number and address,” she told him. “I'll contact her myself and let her know you're okay.”

He shook his head. “No, the cops are probably watching her and the house. We just need to get this over with.”

“Son,” Phil said in a reassuring fatherly voice, “we're doing our best. We have some solid leads and so does Jeremiah. We're working together to find out who's responsible as quickly as possible.”

Carlos looked from Phil to Emma. “How are T.J. and Chef Lupe?”

“Rikki says T.J.'s holding his own,” Emma told him, “but far from out of danger. The police haven't been able to question him yet because of his condition. Lupe is doing better and recovering.”

Carlos looked away, again at the parking lot next door, but he wasn't watching cars; he was lost in his thoughts. “T.J.'s like a big brother. I look up to him, you know?” He turned back to them, his face a block of anguish. “You have to find the mother—” He stopped, remembering his language, but the anger spoke volumes.

The table went silent for a few moments, then Emma asked, “What do you know about Isabel Gonzales?”

“Ana's sister?”

Emma nodded.

“She's a cold bitch,” he said, not checking his words this time. “Ana is sweet but not the brightest. I mean, she's book smart but not street smart. Isabel is the opposite. You have to watch your back around her.” He paused as a small, sad smile crossed his lips. “She's another Lucinda Ricardo, but without the power and money. Give her a few years and she'll be shooting at her sister, too.” Carlos paused, then said, “Isabel is the real
cholo
here.”

Phil and Emma exchanged glances, then Emma said, “Did you know she had a big crush on T.J.?”

“I'd heard about it once from Ana, but T.J. would never be interested in that, even if thrown at him.” He stopped and looked at them as a light went off in his head. “Do you think Isabel shot T.J.?”

“We don't know,” Phil told him, “but we suspect she had something to do with it. At least with setting it up. Did she have any ties to Steve Bullock and Fiesta Time?”

Carlos shrugged. “Not that I know, but he might have contacted her, too, especially if he and Lucy were tight. Lucy and Isabel had some sort of bitch connection thing going on. Maybe Isabel was plan B in case I didn't work out.”

Emma filed the new information away along with the rest of it. She could see Lucy easily deciding on another course of action if Steve's idea didn't work out. Lucy knew Carlos had a sense of loyalty to her family and might back out if his conscience got the better of him. “Is it possible,” she asked Carlos, “that Lucy could have made arrangements with Isabel or someone else, without Steve's knowledge? Her own secret plan B maybe?”

“I wouldn't put anything past Lucinda Ricardo,” Carlos said with a curled lip, “or Isabel Gonzales. I don't know exactly what Lucy's relationship with Steve is, but both of those women only look out for themselves. Either would turn on anyone in a heartbeat.”

Phil glanced at her, and Emma could see in his eyes that he was piecing together the same theory. Her next question was one that had been nagging at her.

“I know you weren't there the day T.J. was shot, Carlos,” Emma asked, “but do you have any idea why he would just show up at the restaurant during its busy time to speak with Rikki? He told her it was urgent.”

He hesitated and looked off again, then shook his head. “The corporate offices are so close to Olvera Street that the executives and office workers were always popping in for lunch, especially T.J. He liked to come by and have lunch with Rikki and sometimes with both Hector and Rikki, but usually he came later or early so not to disrupt the lunch service.

“It felt more like he was the CEO of the company and not Lucy. He and Rikki were really the ones who gave us a sense of being a team.”

“Lucy didn't drop by like that?” Phil asked.

“Once in a while, but mostly she'd call and order her food to be delivered. Even in our busiest time, Isabel would call the order in for her and demand that the food be sent over immediately and someone would have to stop what they were doing and drive it over to corporate.”

Phil scratched his ear, then asked, “Did you ever see Steve Bullock or Ramon Santiago at the restaurant?”

Carlos gave the question some thought, then answered, “No, at least not while I was working.”

“Do you know Ramon Santiago?” Emma asked.

“Sure. He's the owner of Fiesta Time. And I knew who Steve Bullock was before he came up to me at the gym. Like the Ricardos, the Santiago family is well known in the Latino community.”

With no more questions, Emma looked to Phil, giving him an indication that they should move along, but before they did, Carlos said, “Wait, I do know something else, but you have to swear not to get her involved.”

T
HE
person Carlos wanted to protect was Christina, the receptionist at Roble Foods. It had turned out to be her and not Isabel who had alerted T.J. that Lucy was on the warpath at the restaurant the first day Emma met with Rikki. Thinking back, Emma realized that T.J. had never mentioned Isabel's name. It had been Rikki who'd made the assumption.

“You have to promise not to involve her,” Carlos said, his voice tight and worried. “I can't get her mixed up in this. I can't do that to her.”

Emma, who had already stood up to go, sat back down at the table at Maria's Place and looked Carlos in the eye. “I can't promise you that, Carlos. If she has information that could solve T.J.'s shooting, she'll need to be questioned.” She paused. “Who is Christina to you?”

Carlos squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. “She's my mother's best friend and my godmother. That's why she told me what was going on. She trusts me and now I'm about to betray her. I haven't even told Jeremiah this.”

“You're not betraying Christina,” Phil told him in a firm fatherly voice. “You're making a tough choice for the greater good. If this information can help find T.J.'s shooter, then that's the greater good. Christina will be part of the solution, and the sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better off she'll be. So how is Christina involved?”

Carlos considered Phil's words, then picked up his soda. For a few seconds, time hung in the air like it had no place to go. Carlos went to stick the straw of his drink between his lips, but at the last moment hurled the cup with all his youthful strength at the chain link fence. The cup hit the pattern of crisscrossed wire and exploded, Coke and ice bursting like wet fireworks before coming to rest with the cup, lid, and straw among the weeds at the base of the fence.

Emma and Phil didn't take their eyes off Carlos Fuentes. There were tears in his dark eyes, pooling but not spilling. He sniffed them back with a hard snort and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. But he stayed put.

“After the shooting,” Carlos began, “while I was waiting for my mother to return so I could take off like Jeremiah told me to, Christina called my cell. She was upset and crying, saying crazy shit like she was responsible for T.J. being shot. She said she was leaving the office early and coming to our house to talk to me. I told her not to come but that I'd meet her somewhere. We decided to meet at a church not far from her home.”

Carlos coughed and sniffed again. He was no longer the cocky young man with a chip on his shoulder. Now he looked like a child confessing to a playground prank. Phil got up and got him another Coke. “Thanks,” Carlos murmured to the table top. Instead of unwrapping the straw, he took the lid off the big drink and chugged almost half of it down at one go. Then he belched, followed by an embarrassed apology like his mother probably taught him.

“Christina,” Carlos continued, “was the reason T.J. showed up at Roble the day of the shooting, and she was blaming herself for what happened.” He looked from Emma to Phil. “If T.J. dies, Christina will be devastated. She's a wreck now.”

Emma remembered the attractive woman at the receptionist desk and in the ladies' room. She did look about to drop from a cocktail of stress and grief. Emma had chalked it up to the shootings in general, not to something specific like guilt, deserved or not. “We saw her at Roble today,” Emma told Carlos. “She didn't look very good. I'm surprised she was there considering what you're saying.”

“She didn't want to go in, but I convinced her to do it,” Carlos told them. “I told her she needs to be business as usual. If she didn't show up, the cops might get suspicious and try to question her.”

“And why is she afraid of the police?” Emma asked. “She hasn't done anything wrong, has she?”

“It's not the police Christina's afraid of,” Carlos said. “It's Isabel and Lucy. They've both made a lot of people in the office miserable, especially Isabel. Like I told you, she's the real
cholo
.”

“So what did Christina say to T.J. to send him flying over to the restaurant like a bat out of hell?” Phil asked.

Carlos took another slug of the soda. “She was in the bathroom and Isabel came in talking on her cell. Isabel didn't know Christina was there. According to Christina, it's a big bathroom with several stalls.”

Emma nodded. “It is. I was in it myself today.”

“Christina was curious. Very early that morning T.J. and Rikki announced their engagement via a company-wide e-mail and apparently Isabel didn't take it well, even though she tried to slap on a happy face.”

“I heard the same rumor today when I was there,” Emma confirmed.

“According to Christina,” Carlos continued, “she pulled her feet up so if Isabel checked, the stall would look empty.” He stopped, thought about something, then pushed forward. “I have to tell you something else. Isabel was Lucy's eyes and ears everywhere in that office. Her spy, although most everyone knew it. In return, Isabel got special favors.”

Emma smiled to herself as another piece—a tiny piece—of the puzzle dropped in place. According to Granny, the younger woman in the bathroom complained about Isabel taking long lunches and not being around much during the work day with no consequences.

“Was Christina T.J.'s spy?” Phil asked, taking Emma's next question right out of her mouth.

Carlos nodded. “Yes. Although she says she only told him things about Lucy's movements. Christina said that T.J. didn't trust Lucy or Isabel at all. But she didn't tattle on the other employees the way Isabel did.”

“But that day in the bathroom, the day of the shooting, Christina heard something really important, didn't she?” Emma pushed, moving the story along.

Again Carlos nodded, followed by taking several deep breaths. “Christina said she overheard Isabel telling someone on the phone that it was all set. That Rikki was going to be out of everyone's hair forever.”

Emma looked over at Phil and instantly knew he was thinking the same thing she was, that they were right, that Rikki was the intended target all along.

Timing was everything in order to prove that Isabel had set up the shooting. “When in the day did Christina hear this?” Emma asked.

“It was early,” Carlos answered, “sometime between nine thirty and ten, I think. It might even have been closer to nine, shortly after the office opened. Christina told me she tried calling T.J. on his cell, but he didn't answer.”

Emma looked at Phil and said, “That would have been the morning after T.J. proposed. They went to Elena's house together to tell her the news. He might have turned his cell off the night before and forgot to turn it on or left it off while he was at Elena's.”

“That's what he told Christina when he got to the office,” Carlos reported. “She said T.J. came in close to lunch time all happy and smiling because of the engagement. He'd even stopped off and bought a bunch of cupcakes for the office to celebrate. She really hated having to tell him what she'd heard.”

“So she told him and he took off?” Phil asked.

“Yeah. Christina said first he went flying out to Isabel's desk but she wasn't there. Lucy wasn't in either.”

Emma nodded. “Lucy was at Santiago's having lunch with Steve Bullock.”

“According to Christina, Lucy didn't come in at all that morning,” Carlos told them. “They were doing some repair work in her office so she was working from home.”

“Anything else?” Phil asked.

“One more thing,” Carlos said as he rubbed his hands on the legs of his jeans. “Christina thinks Isabel is getting some big payoff. Isabel said to whoever was on the phone that she couldn't wait to get her money and leave town. She told the person on the phone to make sure it was all there and ready to go, or something like that.” Carlos got up and picked up his helmet from the bench next to him. “That's it. That's all there is. Pretty screwed up, isn't it?”

Emma and Phil got up. Phil shook Carlos's hand. “You did the right thing, son. We'll work with Jeremiah to get this sorted out as quickly as possible so you can get home to your family.”

Emma put a hand on each of the young man's strong upper arms and gave them a gentle squeeze, just short of giving him an embrace. “Go somewhere safe and stay there until Jeremiah tells you it's okay to come out. And leave me both your number and your mother's, just in case of emergency.” Emma pulled paper and pen from her purse to jot down the numbers.

Carlos looked at his phone. “This is a burner. Jeremiah gave it to me.”

“Still give me both numbers,” Emma told him and he did. “And don't you call your mother,” she warned. “Stay low. I'll let your mother know you're okay. I'm a mother myself. I know she's worried sick.”

“Now what?” Phil asked Emma after seeing Carlos off. “Back to Roble's corporate offices?” They had remained at Maria's Place, drinking the last of their tea under the awning that shaded the tables.

Emma gave the idea some thought. “I'm worried that if we show up again today, someone will get suspicious. Lucy might have more than one mole in the place.”

“That's an ugly thought,” Phil said, making a face, “but a sound one. Do you think Christina is safe?”

“She is if no one knows she's T.J.'s snoop, but I'm very worried about Rikki. If she was the intended victim, there might still be a target on her back. I mean, who knows where Isabel is right now?”

“We know Peter Bradford is somewhere between here and San Diego, so he's not a threat at the moment,” Phil pointed out. “Do you think maybe he was the shooter?”

Emma weighed the possibility. “Maybe, but I'm inclined to think he was just a dupe. Someone Isabel manipulated to do what she needed done. I'm thinking someone else came in with the group and slipped upstairs. My money is on Isabel herself since she left the Roble offices about that time. Carlos is right—Isabel could have been plan B in the event he backed out. Or she could have been tasked with shooting Rikki while Carlos was in charge of finding the agreement. Two different people for two different jobs. They could even have been hired separately: one by Lucy and the other by Steve. It's also possible it was Lucy whom Isabel was speaking to on the phone in the bathroom. Lucy wasn't in, and if workers were in her office, Isabel couldn't go in there for privacy.”

“But wouldn't people have recognized Isabel?” Phil asked. “She's Hector's daughter, and her sister works there.”

“That is puzzling unless she wore a disguise. A wig and extra makeup could do a lot to change her appearance, especially if everyone was scattered about trying to get their work done and not paying attention.” Emma gave it more thought. “The restrooms are by the back door and the staircase to the offices. She could have pretended to be a customer on her way to the ladies' room and slipped upstairs. She's probably been there lots of times, so would know the way. In fact,” Emma tacked on, pointing her left index finger for emphasis, “I'll bet Isabel even worked there while in school like her sister does now. If so, she'd know the place inside and out, including how they work tour buses and crowds and where the office is.”

“Excellent point, as usual,” Phil said. He grinned at her. “I'm glad you're on the side of good and not evil, because you have a mind for this stuff. You and Granny could have quite a career in crime if you put your minds to it.”

Emma chuckled. “Now there's a thought, but I don't think Granny would go for it. She can be touchy and annoying, but she's as honest as the day is long.”

“And you're not?” Phil winked at her. “You and Granny are both a couple of Girl Scouts.”

Emma shook her head and smiled, but didn't look at him. “Girl Scouts don't pimp their daughters to get information.”

“Are you going to tell Jeremiah about this new development?” Phil asked. “Carlos said he didn't tell him. Only we know.”

“I do think we need to share this but first I want to know what Jeremiah is doing. Jeremiah is obviously protecting Carlos from being dragged into this by the police.” She looked over at Phil. “He will have to be at some point, but as a witness, not as a suspect. I think Jeremiah made the right call here.”

“I do, too, honey.” Phil took her hand, gave it a quick squeeze, and released it. “Being with Carlos makes me think of my boys and how I would feel if it was one of them in this situation.”

Emma pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number for Carlos's mother. “That's why I insisted on getting his mother's number.”

When a woman answered, Emma asked if it was Mrs. Fuentes. When the woman said yes, Emma said, “You don't know me, Mrs. Fuentes, but we're friends of Jeremiah's and we're helping your son.” Emma paused while the woman gushed with questions. “I'm calling just to let you to know that Carlos is safe and healthy and this will all be over soon. Mother to mother, I'm telling you to stay strong. Can you do that?” Another pause. “Good. We'll be in touch soon.” She ended the call. “She was very appreciative of the call, as I figured she'd be.”