Love, Art, and Murder – Mystery Romance - Page 70

I should’ve changed out of the robe, but I knew if I went back into that room with Elle, I would never leave. These murders needed my attention. Detective White followed me into my office. Knots formed in my stomach. “Why do you think Reece is connected to these murders?”

“In her extra room, she has a closet with the inside covered in clear plastic. Although she did a good job at cleaning, my men found traces of blood, skin, and hair. We were unable to link the blood samples to the two victims, but the hair was another story. My men discovered tiny hairs that belonged to both women, as well as others who came up as missing in the Miami-Dade county police database.”

I could barely make it to my chair. When I did, I collapsed into it. “Are you sure Reece would’ve known this was there? Perhaps she had nothing to do. . .”

I trailed off. Always a professional, Detective White had the good sense to let me come to the reasonable conclusion on my own. How could Reece not know that blood and skin was in her closet? Sure, it was the one in the extra room, but there would’ve been a smell. And no one else had the ability to enter the quarters but her, me, and a few servants. While a maid or servant could’ve placed the items in there, when, why, and how? There was always that possibility, but the probability of Reece being innocent sank down to slim.

I blew out a long breath. “What do we do?”

“Nothing. I’ve already notified forensics and have them handling it.”

“Will they need access to the property?”

“Yes. At least her room. They’ve already checked the grounds. However, Mr. Castillo, I believe your assistant did not act alone. If she ran out that night, as the video shows, and killed the first woman, then I’m left wondering how she ran into— ”

“Dayanara.” I rose from my seat. “Please don’t tell me you think she involved Dayanara in some way.”

“Dayanara did have traces of the first victim’s blood on her clothes, and with her involvement in the past murders ten years ago, I believe we should at least consider the possibility she is connected to this.”

“She wasn’t involved in those murders.” The words came out with the stubbornness of a child. All the evidence pointed to her involvement, but she’d been released on an insanity diagnosis. Once Hex sold his first painting, he demanded I get a legal team to release her from the hospital.

And now what? Did I release a murderer?

“What do you need from me in order to decide if Dayanara is connected or not?” I asked.

“I think we should search Dayanara’s living area now, while your assistant is still gone. Once we’ve done that, I think I can truly decide on my next steps.”

“Okay.” I made my way around the desk. “Let’s go.”

Minutes ago, I’d been on top of Elle tasting her skin and fondling her soft flesh. For a few seconds I’d sampled heaven, only to be dragged back into hell.

It took us barely fifteen minutes to get upstairs.

The new nurse greeted us at the door with a smile. “Mrs. Castillo has not gone to sleep yet. She is in her room playing with her dolls.”

“Thank you. This is Detective White. He’s with me today to make sure the room is taken care of. We’ll be looking around her bedroom and possibly the rest of this area.”

“Is something wrong, sir?”

“No. This is unrelated to you or your performance.” My answer seemed to please her. She went to the kitchen and stirred a pot with red bubbling liquid inside. “She’s been quiet all day and did not want to leave the room. Does she usually talk?”

Well, she had a busy night, with being covered in blood and dragged around the property.

“At times she will say a few things, but the majority of the time she will remain quiet.” I led Detective White to Dayanara’s bedroom door. I noticed that someone had tacked a cross to the wall above her doorway. It was made of cornhusks and a tiny doll no longer than an inch lay at the center of it. Grandma’s protection charm. I scanned the room and identified more spots where she’d nailed shimmering beads of different colors. Symbols covered their shiny surfaces. Smeared ash coated the window frames.

More of Grandma’s enchantments.

I opened the bathroom to check if she’d put something there, knowing deep down inside that she had. She did. Hundreds of chicken feet dangled from the ceiling. I recalled a memory of when I was nine years old and visiting Grandma in Cuba and how she’d said, “Chicken feet scare away the dirty souls that try to creep up through the toilet. Always look before you sit, Alvarez. You just never know.”

Tags: Kenya Wright Mystery
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