Read Online Closely Akin to Murder by Joan Hess - Free Book Online Page B

lobby. I offered to allow him to search the suite at the Plaza for bloodied clothes or a knife, as long as Manuel, the hotel manager, and I were present. He appeared to be so unimpressed with my generosity that I decided search warrants were less than obligatory in Mexico, if the concept existed at all.
    I was on the verge of demanding to call the American consulate when the comandante stood up, lectured Manuel with such intensity that spittle flew out of his mouth, then gave me a parting scowl and left the room.
    Manuel gulped. “Let’s go, Señora. The comandante says you must make yourself available until you have permission from the
Ministerio Público
to leave the country. They will try to find this Chico; if they do, you and I both will be required to identify him.”
    â€œThat could take days,” I said as I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. “Or weeks, or years. What if he hopped on a bus for Mexico City to lose himself among twenty million people? This is a lovely place, Manuel, but I wouldn’t want to live here for the rest of my life.”
    He steered me through the front room and out into the blessed evening breeze. Without speaking, we hurried past the smirky guards at the gates of the compound. The Cadillac was parked several blocks up the hill, and I was gasping for breath as I dove into the front seat. Manuel jammed in the ignition key, backed into the street, and sent the car squealing around the corner as if we’d just held up the neighborhood tequila store.
    Eventually, he eased up on the accelerator, but his hands were still gripping the steering wheel hard enough to leave indentations. “I myself have no influence here in Acapulco. I will take you to the hotel, then go to the office and speak to my brother-in-law. He knows politicians and men of wealth. Many of them rely on his discretion when they wish to have companions other than their wives. He will do what he can.”
    â€œThank you,” I murmured. I couldn’t decide if my head was more likely to explode or implode, but I was certain my blood pressure exceeded the sum of the temperature and the humidity, with the price of the suite thrown in for good measure. Twenty-four hours earlier I’d been threatened on the telephone. Had the caller attempted to frame me for murder? Ronnie’s would-be blackmailer had stirred up the embers of the case, but it seemed I’d incited a first-class inferno.
    â€œAre you okay, Señora?” asked Manuel. “Your face is very white.”
    â€œNo, I’m not okay. I’ve put myself into an exceedingly awkward position—and I’ve put my daughter in a dangerous one. How soon can she get a flight to the States?”
    â€œThere are no more flights today. The first one in the morning is shortly after nine o’clock. I will call to find out if there is a seat for her. If there is, I will drive herto the airport and stay with her until she is on the airplane. It would not be wise for you to be seen at the airport, Señora. Comandante Quiroz will have men there, watching for you.”
    He agreed to call me as soon as he’d called the airlines. Regally ignoring the stares of the Plaza staff, I took the elevator upstairs and knocked on the suite door. Several seconds passed during which I assumed I was being scrutinized through the peephole in case I was a skillfully disguised homicidal maniac.
    I’d found my key when the door opened and Caron dragged me into the room. “What Is Going On?” she demanded. “All Manuel would tell me was that you’d been taken to the police station. I have been sitting here for Three Hours, fully expecting to be arrested by hairy goons with machine guns. They’d take me away to prison and nobody would ever know what happened to me!”
    I hugged her until she calmed down, then went into the bedroom and fell across the nearest bed. It was quite a bit softer than a cot in a