Smothered In Lies (A Mexican Cafe Cozy Mystery Series Book 3) Page 3

  “Don’t fire her,” Mari went on. “She loves her job. It means everything to her, and frankly, she’s better at it than some of our own family members.”

  “She's also good at giving away free meals,” he replied. "Of course, customers love her."

  “Firing Chrissy is not the right way to handle this, Dad. She should at least be given a warning. Just talk to her about it. Maybe she has a good explanation.”

  Mr. Ramirez sighed. He was a very heated and impatient sort of man, but he didn't like confrontation. He also didn't like to spend time arguing with employees when he could be studying the accounts.

  “You talk to her,” Mr. Ramirez said, rubbing his eyes.

  “Okay, I will,” Mari responded.

  “Tell her that the next time she gives away food, she is fired,” he continued. "And if that day comes, you will be the one to fire her, Mari."

  “Fine.” Mari agreed although she didn't like the arrangement. “I'm sure she has a good reason. You'll see. I'll prove it to you.”

  “I can't let her keep draining money from the restaurant,” Mr. Ramirez replied. “Every penny counts.”

  “I’ll go talk to her right now.” Mari nodded in agreement. “Mind if I leave Tabasco here in the office?”

  Mr. Ramirez glared at the dog, who barked joyfully. "Don't you always?"

  ***

  Mari found Chrissy in the kitchen cutting up green chili peppers.

  “Hey Chrissy, I haven’t talked to you in a while,” Mari said in a casual voice. It was so nonchalant that Chrissy looked at her suspiciously. She set down her knife.

  “What do you want to know?” Chrissy asked.

  “I just wanted to see how you’re doing,” Mari replied, “and to figure out what is going on with you. Is it true that you've been…giving away food?”

  Chrissy’s normally effervescent face fell, her cheeks swelling with emotion. For a moment Mari feared she was going to pick up her knife again. Instead, Chrissy burst into tears.

  “Hey,” Mari said. “What’s wrong? Just explain to me what happened.”

  “I can't believe this,” Chrissy said, her shoulders sinking, “All I ever wanted was a steady job that I was good at. I can't even get waitressing right.”

  Given her initial reaction, Mari decided it was probably wise not to get upset. It still was not clear if Chrissy was the culprit. “So, did you take anything from the kitchen?” Instead, Mari placed her hands on Chrissy’s shoulders.

  “Look at me,” Mari said. Reluctantly Chrissy looked up at her. “Ever since I’ve known you, you have been the most reliable employee we have. But we have to investigate things that go missing, money and food. My dad thinks you have been giving away free meals.”

  Chrissy nodded, looking defeated. “I have made a few enemies in my day. I bet this is a ploy by one of them to ruin my life.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Now Mari's investigation was getting somewhere.

  Chrissy sniffed, wiping a tear from her face. “Yeah, this isn't the first time an ex-boyfriend has tried to get me fired. It could have also been an angry customer that I rejected. You would be surprised how many guys ask me out when I'm on duty.”

  Mari looked at her thoughtfully. “The only way we were able to talk my brothers into working was telling them they were going to meet girls.”

  “Did it work?” Chrissy wiped her face, momentarily distracted from her problems.

  “Of course not.”

  “Well, anyway,” Chrissy said, “if you want to know who’s been lying to your dad about me, there’s your answer. Some guys won’t take no for an answer. They think they have to sabotage my career, just because I put my career above having a boyfriend.”

  “I understand,” Mari replied, who was no stranger to putting her own needs above the needs of the men in her life. “And you would be willing to swear on a menu that you haven’t taken food or given it away to anyone?”

  Chrissy looked distinctly uncomfortable, but said in a weak voice, “Everything I’ve ever done has been for the good of this restaurant.”

  “Let’s try to keep it that way,” Mari responded, giving Chrissy an intent look. “If anything were to happen, there’s only so much I could do to defend you.”

  “But I’m telling you—”

  “And I’m telling you,” Mari continued as she turned to leave. “Just do the right thing, and there won’t be any trouble. That’s all I’m asking.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mari hung around the restaurant until closing and helped her mother and grandmother perfect a new churro batter. She liked to experiment in the kitchen and on several occasions Mari had tried to make her own churros at home, but they were never able to maintain the consistency of her grandmother’s. Something about the way her Abuela combined the flour and butter elevated them above every other churro she had ever tasted.

  “I honestly don’t know how you do that,” Mari said. “We’re working with the same exact ingredients, but your churros are one hundred percent better.”

  “It’s a seasoned skill,” Mari's Abuela replied in Spanish. Though Mari's grandmother understood English, she still chose to speak Spanish most of the time. “I’ve just been doing it for a long time. I have a practiced hand.”

  “Can you teach me that?” Mari asked.

  “Practice for a few years, and you'll be just as good at it,” her Abuela answered.

  David and Alex returned to the restaurant with their food truck around dinner time. They parked the truck out back and came running in through the side entrance. Alex said they would have come sooner, but Detective Price and his assistant, Officer Penny, had insisted on interviewing them. The interview had gone on for about an hour.

  “What did they want to know?” Mari asked her brothers.

  “Nothing that we could tell them,” David said. “They kept asking us over and over again if we'd heard gunfire during the lunch hour. I don’t know how many times you can tell someone you didn’t hear any guns fired. It’s like they kept hoping if they asked enough times, I might slip up and confess something.”

  “In a way, I feel bad for them,” Mari responded. “They have nothing to go on. They’re probably hoping you’ll solve the case for them.”

  “Believe me, I’d love to point them to the killer,” David said. “But we’re as much in the dark as they are. They could maybe start by interviewing the woman who was found standing over his dead body instead of us who weren’t anywhere near the port-a-potties when it happened.”

  “I saw a mystery show once,” Mari chimed in, “where a woman was found standing over her husband’s dead body. The woman had a gun in her hand too.”

  “So who killed him?” David asked.

  “The woman did, of course," Mari explained. "It was the most unexpected thing ever.”

  “Talk about pulling the rug out from under the audience,” Alex joked. “Mari, those mystery shows you watch are so boring. You should get out and meet people instead."

  But Mari had no intention of giving up her favorite programs. She didn’t know why she found them so calming. There was something about seeing a mystery solved within an hour that gave Mari peace of mind.

  That night Mari slept soundly with Tabasco at the foot of her bed. But the continuous buzzing of her cell phone woke her up. Mari groaned before answering it. It was David.

  “Mari,” David said, “it's about time you answered. We need you to get over here fast.”

  “What?” Mari rubbed her tired eyes and reached for her glasses.

  “You need to get to the restaurant,” David informed her. “There’s been a breakin. Somebody broke the kitchen windows. Dad is having a fit about all of the glass.”

  "I'll be there as soon as I can." Mari jumped out of bed, and so did Tabasco.

  Ten minutes later Mari and Tabasco pulled into the parking lot of Lito Bueno’s Mexican Restaurant which was surrounded by police cars. The red and blue lights flashed garishly against the red bricks. The oaken fron
t doors were open and as Mari passed through the front entryway. She saw police officers on their hands and knees dusting for fingerprints.

  “Mr. Ramirez we meet again," Detective Price said. He stood in the kitchen talking to Mari’s dad. The floor around them was covered in shards of broken glass, and a cool night wind blew in through the window. “Why do I always find myself back at this restaurant?”

  “If I knew the answer to that question I would tell you,” Mr. Ramirez replied.

  “If only it were that simple,” Detective Price said. “Okay, let's figure out what is going on here.”

  “Maybe you should station a permanent undercover agent at our restaurant?” Mari suggested, interrupting the detective.

  “I'll consider it.” Detective Price said it jokingly but Mari couldn't help but wonder if he was serious.

  “Was anything stolen?” Mari glanced at her father, knowing how much he must have been shouting at himself on the inside for letting something like this happen. It didn't matter if it was his fault or not.

  “So far, nothing of any particular value,” the detective responded. “But there's some graffiti on the side of the food truck, which leads us to think this is connected to what happened at the gathering of food trucks not too long ago.”

  “So you think it was Vance Gorden's killer that broke into our restaurant?” Mari asked, hoping that it wasn't true.

  “Like I said, we don’t have a lot of answers right now,” the detective replied. “But the fact is that a man was found dead near your food truck, and now your restaurant has been broken into, and that same food truck vandalized. Maybe someone is trying to send you a message.”

  “Or maybe someone is trying to frame my family for murder,” Mari stated.

  “Pray that is not the case,” he said in a sober tone. “If that is the case then you’d better prepare yourselves.”

  Without bothering to explain himself any further, the detective turned and walked out of the kitchen.

  Mari led Tabasco into the dark hallway and took off his leash. Giving him a pat on his back, she said, “Go have a look around, boy.” Tabasco trotted off into the darkness, sniffing excitedly.

  It seemed so bizarre that Mari had been standing in the kitchen just a few hours ago idly chatting, and now the restaurant itself had been broken into. As Mari made her way over to the food truck, she found both of her brothers inside taking inventory. Alex read a list of items off of a clipboard while David dug around to ensure they were still there.

  “What do you think this is all about?” Mari asked, ignoring the fact that both of them were busy. “It’s baffling that there have been two crimes now connected to us, and the police have no leads.”

  “Oh, they have leads, Mari,” David argued. “They lead right to us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I'm certain that Detective Price is putting on an act," David explained. "I guarantee you everyone in the police department thinks it was us.”

  “But why would you two vandalize your own food truck?”

  “To turn suspicion away from us,” David said. “The police department must think we're a bunch of idiots."

  “You would think Detective Price would trust us by now.” Mari shook her head. "I mean, we've worked with him plenty of times."

  “Either that or we’re really good at framing people,” David added. He was beginning to sound a little unhinged.

  “David, don’t talk like that. You’re freaking me out.” Alex looked up from his clipboard.

  “You should be freaked out,” David said, suddenly shooting up from underneath a pile of cast-iron skillets. “You know what’s going on, right? It’s a curse. We’ve been cursed by that Native American guy.”

  “David, what are you talking about?” Mari asked. Normally Alex was the one with wild ideas. Seeing David behaving out of character like this was as unsettling as the breakin itself. Mari looked to Alex for help.

  “Dang it, David is right,” Alex agreed. “Do you know anything about the legend of Red Arrow? He was said to be the greatest caster of spells and curses in Texas.”

  “Alex, that’s a load of garbage, and you know it,” Mari responded, who had been putting up with her brother’s superstitious ramblings since he was old enough to talk.

  “Mari, come on.” Alex looked at her like she was the crazy one. “Do you think this is all just a coincidence? Three archeologists are digging around in Red Arrow’s backyard, and one of them mysteriously dies in our food lot. Now our own restaurant has been broken into.”

  “There are a lot of explanations for what happened that don’t involve curses from beyond the grave,” Mari said firmly. “You’re relying on folklore to solve a murder case. It's not logical to blame everything on that.”

  “That’s the problem with people like you,” Alex continued. “Your need to follow logic is blinding you to what is really going on here.”

  “And what’s really going on?” Mari asked.

  “To put it simply, we're cursed.”

  “We all are,” David added.

  “And it won’t let up until we figure out what is going on here,” said Alex firmly.

  “What does this curse have to do with us?” Mari asked. “We just happened to be at the scene of the crime when Vance Gorden was murdered. We weren’t involved in his expedition in any way.”

  “We don’t have to be,” Alex continued. “I looked it up. Our restaurant may have been built on property belonging to this great Native American warrior guy. Let's hope that is not the case.”

  “Now you sound like you've been watching too many T.V. shows,” Mari said, sounding uncannily like Detective Price. “Fine. I'll humor you for a second. What do we do to break this silly little curse?”

  “We just have to figure what has been taken from Red Arrow,” Alex responded. "This Vance guy must have gone too far, and now he's dead."

  "He's dead because there's a killer roaming around town." Mari shook her head. "Not because of some warrior who died hundreds of years ago. Besides, Vance's girlfriend Kristi told me that they hadn't found anything."

  "Well then she's a liar," Alex argued. "They must have found something. If we can just figure out what…"

  “Good luck with that.” Mari rolled her eyes, wondering how that was even possible. She had only heard the stories about the great Native American warrior Red Arrow once before when she was a young girl. Mari had long forgotten the old tales until Kristi had mentioned them at the crime scene.

  At that moment, Tabasco came pattering out of the restaurant toward them. He barked proudly when he saw Mari and, running straight up to her, dropped something into her hands.

  “What is it, boy?” Mari held it up to the light.

  Alex gasped, his eyes wide.

  It was a pink bracelet. A bracelet that none of them recognized.

  CHAPTER SIX

  As Mari was the only one willing to touch the pink bracelet that Tabasco had found inside the restaurant right after the breakin. It was left to Mari to examine it while David and Alex looked on from the door of the food truck, ready to bolt at the first opportunity. After staring at it carefully for about thirty seconds, Mari informed her brothers that she was quite certain it was a girl’s bracelet and made of a material that Red Arrow would never have used - plastic.

  “That don’t mean nothing,” Alex said.

  “It means a lot if we’re talking about a cursed object,” Mari informed him. “We’re not talking about a bracelet that has been passed down through the centuries. We’re talking about a bracelet that sells in packages of ten at the dollar store.”

  “But if it’s cursed,” David went on, “does it matter where it came from? What matters is that someone cursed it and left it on our property, thereby cursing us.”

  Mari struggled to follow David’s logic. “Who do you think cursed this bracelet?” she asked.

  “Red Arrow, obviously,” Alex replied.

  “Guys, I’m sorry,” Mari protes
ted, “but if Red Arrow cursed this bracelet that was made in China, we’re all in a lot of trouble.”

  This remark did not have the intended effect of reassuring either of her brothers. “Can a ghost curse someone?” David asked. Alex shrugged.

  “You know, I don’t get you guys,” Mari continued. “Especially you, David. Sometimes you seem so rational, with your fancy articles about how this-or-that-thing couldn’t possibly happen in our world because of physics or whatever. And then you fall for the lamest of hoaxes. Someone could have left this bracelet here just to spook you two into thinking the restaurant was cursed. And you’re falling for it.”

  “Can we all just calm down for a minute?” David asked. “Mari has a point. We should be thinking about this rationally.”

  “We could start by asking ourselves why someone would be breaking into our restaurant and vandalizing our food truck in the middle of the night,” Alex suggested.

  “Not too long after a murder was committed,” David added.

  “Right.” Alex nodded.

  “Now, we're getting somewhere,” Mari agreed. “Don't let yourselves panic and start to lose focus. I do that enough for all three of us. It’s normal to be freaked out, but we have to keep clear heads.”

  But by the next day word of the cursed bracelet and the mysterious Lito Bueno’s Mexican Restaurant breakin had spread all over town. The local newspaper even ran a two-page spread in its evening edition outlining the history of the curse of Red Arrow, beginning with the warrior's downfall and ending with the death of Vance Gorden, an archeologist who had come searching for lost artifacts. The newspaper article then reported on the Ramirez family food truck and the breakin that had occurred at the restaurant. David and Alex were positive this would spell the end of their food truck business, but when Mari showed up for work, there was a line halfway around the block.

  “I heard what happened and couldn’t stay away,” said Bubba Jones, the man who ran a shady pizzeria in a part of town where no one ever went. “My grandpa called me up this afternoon and told me about it. He said he knows a guy with a dowsing rod if you ever need help finding something.”