of beat-up athletic shoes. He put them on the desk in front of us. I felt Tinkie tense, but I kept a poker face.
“Do you recognize those shoes?” he asked.
I could hear Jitty in a corner of my mind, calling me a stool pigeon and worse, but I had to answer. “Those belong to Federico Marquez.” I’d seen them numerous times. He wore them for walks on the beach with Jovan. “Where did you find them?”
“Hidden in the garden beside the house. They’d been buried beneath some mulch and leaves. Daniel Martinez was very upset over Estelle’s attack, and as a special favor to him I brought in the tracking dogs. They found the shoes.”
I didn’t look at Tinkie. She really adored Federico, and I knew she was crushed. I wasn’t feeling so great, either. Aside from the larger issue that Federico was a monster, I didn’t think he could get a pass from jail to finish his movie. My bright and shining career was suddenly in shambles.
“Why would Senor Marquez want to harm his daughter?” Sergeant Calla asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered.
“I’m not certain he did this,” Tinkie said. “Someone could have planted those shoes. He wore them on the beach and left them at the back door. Everyone and his brother had access to them.”
“She has a good point,” I said.
“We have calls in for Senor Marquez to contact us, but he hasn’t done so.” Calla looked at me as if I could explain it.
I shrugged. “I’ve been calling him most of the day. He’s disappeared from the set. No one can find him.” I realized after I said it how suspicious it made him look.
“We’re afraid someone has harmed Federico,” Tinkie said, taking the bull by the horns.
“What makes you think that?” Calla asked.
“He has a multimillion-dollar movie three-quarters of the way made and he disappears? The timing doesn’t make sense. None of it. Why do all of these things now, when he has a shot of really getting back on top as a director? Rumors around Hollywood for the past six months have been that this movie is going to make him the most sought-after director working today. Why would he jeopardize this when the movie is going great?”
Tinkie’s passion was unexpected, but her logic was impeccable. “Yeah, why?” I brilliantly echoed.
Calla was unimpressed. “I intend to find out. If you hear from Senor Marquez, explain to him that he should contact me immediately.”
“Will do,” I said.
“My advice is not to stay in that house. Daniel tells me that he’s had men on the gate since filming began and yet accidents continue to happen there.”
“We’re getting a room in a hotel,” I assured him. “We just have to go and gather our belongings.”
“I wouldn’t linger. Especially now that it’s night.”
His words touched me with an acute chill. Night, ghosts, spirits a’calling. “Let’s get our stuff,” I said to Tinkie as we left the police station.
“And then let’s check on Estelle. If she would only wake up, she could resolve this whole snarl.”
“Either that or put the nail in her father’s coffin, which she might do just for spite.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The old mansion was too quiet. I paced my room, knowing that this was my last chance to figure out what was really happening in the house. I’d placed a call to Tor and left a message, and Tinkie was in her room with the dogs, packing her four suitcases.
With my one bag ready to go, I paused for a moment and stared at the portrait of Carlita Gonzalez Marquez. Why in the world hadn’t she been happy with her beauty? I could look at her and see what she never could-she was stunning-and I was left with a sense of the total waste of it all. She’d never seen herself as she really was, and it was a shame.
From behind me an emotionally choked voice spoke. “You’re on your own, Cat. You’re better off being independent. You don’t need me or anyone else.”
I whirled to find Jitty, rain-sodden, wearing a tightly belted raincoat and sobbing. Instantly I recognized the scene from
“Jitty.” I stepped toward her. She was distraught. And dripping. Water had pooled around her on the floor.
She twirled, and in an instant the raincoat was gone and she was wearing a black Chanel dress, her hair swept up in a bun, a fringe of bangs emphasizing her gamine eyes. She was the glamorous Audrey Hepburn, albeit in a shade of mocha.
“Do you prefer this image?” she asked. “I’m certainly more comfortable. I never cared for the soppin’ wet look. Works for blondes much better, doncha think?”
“How did you do that?” Jitty was always dashing about in some new wardrobe, but I’d never seen a quick- change like that one.
“Exterior don’t count, Sarah Booth. Beauty’s not always a ticket to anything except heartbreak and disappointment. Your mama knew this. As beautiful as she was, she never traded on her looks. She taught you better, too.”
“I’ve never traded on my looks.” I was indignant.
“No, you never have. And you’ve never seen yourself clearly, either. You’re standin’ here wonderin’ how Carlita couldn’t see herself, and you’re floatin’ in the same boat.”
“That’s just not true. I’ve always been clearheaded about my talents… and my…” Jitty had hammered me. “When I was in New York, I never felt beautiful.” It was true.
“And now?” Jitty asked.
The realization that dawned on me was interesting. “And now, I don’t think about it.”
That was obviously the right answer, because she did another twirl, and the black dress was replaced by a beautiful white gown that made her look both vulnerable and elegant. She was still Audrey, but she was a happier version.
“This conversation is fascinating, but it doesn’t help me solve the case. Have you seen Carlita’s ghost?” I asked her.
“I can’t do nothin’ to help Carlita. You and your partner did what she needed. You found her daughter and got an ambulance.”
“Maybe too late.” I hated to think about what might be happening to Estelle. “Is Carlita gone now? Is she at peace?”
“I don’t know.” Jitty sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m here because you need me. I don’t know why Carlita’s in this house.” She shrugged. “I don’t know everything.”
The rules of the Great Beyond were not any clearer to me, either. The more that happened, the less I understood. “Tinkie and I have to go, and I don’t have a clue what really went on here. Was Carlita involved in the attacks on me and Tinkie and Jovan?”
Jitty put on a pair of round sunglasses that almost hid her face. “There’s really only one person who can answer that question.”
“The ghost doesn’t answer questions.” I gave her a sharp look. “She’s a lot like you in that regard. She does pretty damn much what she wants.” I put on a pout. “This will be our first unsolved case. A sterling record broken.”
Jitty crossed the room, her silver bracelets tinkling. “I doubt that.”
I was about to ask what she meant when my cell phone rang. I looked down to check the number, and when I looked up, there was no sign of Jitty. The hospital was calling, and I answered.
“This is Dr. Valdez. Estelle Marquez asked me to call. She wants to speak with you and Mrs. Richmond.”
“We’re on the way,” I said. “How is she?”
“She’s stabilized.”
