A Masquerade of Muertos (Wisteria Tearoom Mysteries Book 5) (23 page)

The hall, on the other hand, was crowded. Everyone had come out there to see what was going on. I checked the south alcoves, but found no one in Hyacinth, Violet, or Dahlia. As I returned to the hall, I looked for Gabriel. He should have been easy to spot, in that golden outfit. The crowd was mostly dark and muted colors.

Maybe he’d gone to the restroom. I worked my way through the throng to the side hall: no one waiting. I continued through the pantry to the kitchen, where I found Mick frowning out the north windows, cell phone to his ear. When he saw me he took it down.

“Where’s Dee?” I asked.

He gestured toward the outside door. “She went rushing out a couple minutes ago. She’s not answering her cell.”

The pit of my stomach started to clench. Something was very wrong.

“Julio left?”

“About ten minutes ago. He made me swear to stay in here and guard the vodka shots.” Mick sounded decidedly unhappy. “Can you watch them while I go after Dee?”

“I’ll find her,” I said. “Please do stay and guard the drinks. Keep trying to raise Dee. I’ll be right back.”

Mick nodded, albeit grudgingly, and returned his attention to his phone. I went back to the hall.

The guests were beginning to spread out again. Ramon looked up from his chair as I headed for the stairs. “Should I keep playing?” he asked.

I paused. “Have you seen Gabriel?”

He shook his head. I bit my lip.

“Maybe something quiet? Help calm people down.”

He picked up the guitar and I hurried up the stairs. As I reached the top step I heard a small sound, like a sigh. My skin prickled.

“Hello?”

Silence. I didn’t see anyone in the hall, and my suite was locked. I stepped toward the doorway into the offices. Moonlight slanted in the window and fell across Kris, standing in the middle of her office. She looked up as I came in, rubbed at her cheek, then swallowed.

“I’m all right,” she said before I could ask. Her voice was a little shaky, but she held her head high.

“May I turn on the light?”

“Please don’t. I’m OK, really.”

I honored her wish, worrying as I stood watching the restless moonlight flicker over her. Her privacy was something I always tried to respect, but right now I needed information.

“Have you seen Gabriel? I can’t find him.”

She swallowed again. “Not since I left Violet. You saw.”

I nodded. “Gwyneth fainted.”

Kris’s brows rose, then her eyes narrowed. “She did, eh?”

“She’s recovering, but I thought Gabriel should know.”

“He’s not in Rose?”

“No.”

She looked around, as if she might spot him hiding somewhere in the office. I realized how ludicrous that idea was, even as I stepped into my own office. Same empty stillness, except for the shadowed moonlight.

“I’ll check again,” I said, leaving to give Kris some privacy.

As I turned toward the stairs, a gleam of light shone out above the top step, like the glint of a chandelier drop. I caught my breath.

My phone rang. I jumped, nearly dropping it as I tried to fish it out of the sleeve pocket.

“Hello?”

“Ellen—”

“Dee!”

She took a couple of breaths. “It’s Gabriel.”

“You found him? Where is he?”

“Hidalgo Plaza. Can you come? I think he’s—dead.”

¹³

M
y heart clenched, and I cast a glance toward the office door, worried for Kris. She hadn’t come out. I started down the stairs.

“I’ll be right there,” I told Dee when I reached the landing. “What happened?”

“I don’t know—I saw him run past the kitchen so I followed him—”

“Have you called the police?”

“Yes. But I don’t have my I.D....”

“I’ll vouch for you. I’d better hang up in case they’re trying to reach you.”

“Oh, Ellen—”

“Hang tight. I’m on my way.”

At the foot of the stairs, Ramon was still playing the guitar. I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you have your keys?” I asked in a low voice.

He nodded. “Why?”

“I’m going down the street. Come to the kitchen.”

He put down his guitar and followed me. There were a lot of people milling around in the hall, and I was less than courteous about getting past them to the kitchen.

“Mick! Come with me. Ramon, please stay here and don’t let anyone go near the fridge or the freezer.”

“OK, but what’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. Call me if there’s trouble.”

Mick followed me out back, where his car, a medley of different-colored parts generously dappled with primer gray, was parked next to mine. I headed for the passenger door.

“You drive. Hidalgo Plaza. Dee’s there.”

His eyes sharpened with swift concern, then he gave a nod and unlocked the car. I climbed in, tossing a couple of car magazines from the shotgun seat into the back.

“Is she OK?” he asked.

“Yes.” I buckled myself in. “I’ll explain on the way. Don’t back over any Goths,” I added, glancing behind us down the driveway.

The Mustang’s engine rumbled to life and Mick backed all the way out to the street rather than take the time to turn around. A pale face gaped at us in surprise from the garden beyond the fence as we whipped past. Some Goth who’d gone out for a smoke, probably. I realized I was clutching the door handle and forced myself to let go.

I told Mick about Dee’s call as he drove the half-block to Palace Avenue and turned east, passing numerous costumed pedestrians as we circled the Plaza. It was almost too short to drive—especially because finding parking would be a pain—but it was the fastest way to get to Dee.

“I’ll go in while you park, OK?” I said.

“Yeah. Tell her I’m coming. Did she say how he died?”

“No.”

I swallowed, not looking forward to finding out.

Mick dropped me at the entrance to Hidalgo Plaza and drove off. I was on the same spot where I’d first seen the gleam of light a few days before. The muscles between my shoulder blades tightened.

Muffled music came from ahead; the restaurant was probably closed by now, but the bistro might be having a party. I drew a deep breath and walked through the
zaguan
passage, looking for Dee.

The music was indeed coming from the bistro on the east side of the
plazuela
. Laughter and voices came from its open door.

It took me a minute to spot Dee; she was almost invisible in the dark garden in her black hooded robe, standing motionless at the crossing of pathways where I’d seen the second gleam. Clenching my teeth, I joined her and realized she was gazing up toward the west side of the plaza.

“Dee? You all right?”

“Y-yes.”

I heard a siren in the distance. Turning to follow her gaze, I saw a familiar, golden figure.

“Oh, God!”

He was hanging from the iron bracket that held a flower basket, below the second story, between two posts.

The spot where I’d seen the third gleam of light.

The first responders arrived before Mick. They came through the
zaguan
on the north side: two uniformed cops, then three paramedics who swarmed up the stairs and went to work getting Gabriel down.

One of the cops went into the bistro while the other—a stocky Latino guy not much older than me—came over and started asking questions, most of which Dee had to answer. I stayed with her, holding her hand, which was chilled. The black robe was just a cover-up; it wasn’t warm enough to protect her from the cold breeze. I wished I’d thought to bring something for her. I hadn’t even grabbed a coat for myself, but at least my dress was warm.

Mick came running up, winded. The cop bristled.

“Mick, thank you,” I said, then turned to the cop. “This is Dee’s brother, he drove me here when she called me.”

The cop relaxed a little. “You know him?” he said, nodding toward the balcony, where two paramedics were strapping Gabriel into a harness while the third stood in the garden below.

Gabriel’s
body.
There was no chance he was still alive. I swallowed, fighting down the part of me that wanted to give way to grief.

“Not really,” Mick said, glancing at me. “He’s a customer, sort of. I never—”

A piercing scream behind us interrupted him. Looking toward the sound, I saw a woman in a Supergirl costume standing in the doorway of the bistro, watching the paramedics with an expression of horror.

The cop cursed under his breath and started talking into his radio, asking for backup. “Stay here,” he told us with a sharp look, then headed for the bistro.

A witch and a figure in a business suit with a really good mask of a leading politician joined Supergirl in the doorway. The cop raised his arms to herd them back inside.

Dee shivered. I hugged her and invited Mick to do the same. “She’s freezing. You don’t happen to have a blanket in your car?”

“No.” He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She shuddered and leaned against him.

Hearing footsteps approaching, I turned to the southwestern
zaguan
and saw Tony Aragón coming toward us, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans and his leather jacket zipped to his throat. His shoulders were hunched and he was frowning. He stopped a couple of paces away, eyes going wide.

“Ellen?”

I sighed, partly from relief, partly from sadness. “Hi.”

He looked from me to the paramedics, who had started lowering Gabriel’s body to the ground. “Oh, crap!”

The uniformed cop came jogging up. “Got a bar full of hysterical people in there,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder at the bistro door, which was now closed. “They just noticed the deader. This is the one who made the call,” he added, indicating Dee.

“OK, I’ll handle it from here,” Tony said. “You keep a lid on the bar.”

“Roger.”

The cop jogged away again. Tony turned to me with an incredulous look.

“I did not find this body,” I blurted. Stupid, defensive remark.

Tony’s gaze shifted to Mick. “Your girlfriend?”

“My sister.”

“It’s Dee,” I added. “She’s freezing. Could we get her inside?”

Tony glanced toward the bistro and shook his head. “Not in there.”

“What about the
zaguan
?” I said, indicating the entrance I had come through. “At least it’s out of the wind.”

“Yeah, OK, but we might have to get out of the way.” He shot a glance toward the balcony. “It’s going to get busy here.”

We moved into the passage, which was dark but slightly warmer. I could see Tony’s bike double-parked a little way down the street, lights flashing. Mick leaned against the wall, hugging Dee to him.

“Mind taking off the hood?” Tony said to her.

She glanced at me, then carefully peeled back her veil and the hood, revealing her skull makeup. Tony blinked, then took out his pocket notebook. He made a note and frowned, turning to me with a somber look.

“Do I need to take myself off this case?”

“What? No! Well...I don’t know. I don’t think so. I wasn’t here.”

He sighed. “Better start at the beginning.”

I gathered myself, trying to find the nerve to tell Tony about the glints of light I’d seen earlier in the plaza. I couldn’t do it. He would think I’d gone nuts.