"Embarrassed for having a relationship? Even if it was against the policies of Rosa's job, they are both adults."
"What if Graciela was lying to you and he actually was seeing both of them. Or maybe more," Eric points out. "Airing your dirty laundry is one thing. Dumping out the whole hamper and stringing up all the panties is another."
"If you don't want to think of it that way, how about this angle. If he admits he was with her this morning or that he was supposed to be, the police might take more interest in that crack in her skull," Bellamy says.
I stop pacing and look at her, leaning with my hands clamped on the back of a chair.
"That's another thing. The head injury."
"What about it?" Eric asks, nibbling his way through what seems like his fifth croissant. "You've seen this exact thing before. Unfortunately, it's not all that uncommon. People don't pay attention when they are out by the pool. They run or don't notice water on the edge. They lean down to scoop things out of the water and lose their balance. It doesn't take much to slip and hit their head. If they end up rolling into the water after, it can turn bad fast."
"You're right. I have seen it before. Which is why it's standing out to me. The injury on Rosa's head didn't look right to me."
Something occurs to me. "B, did you delete those pictures you took after you sent them to the police?"
"No," she says. "Thanks for reminding me."
"Before you do, let me see them."
She pulls the images up on her phone and hands it to me. I scroll through until the one she took zooming in on the wound in the side of Rosa's head. Flipping the phone back around, I show it to them.
"Look where that wound is. That's what was bothering me. When people slip and fall at the edge of a pool, they hit the back of their heads. It starts bleeding instantly, and then the person slides or rolls into the water. Rosa's injury is too far up the side of her head. How would she hit that place on her head if she just accidentally fell?"
I scroll back through the images to a wider shot of the pool, then sweep my fingers across the screen to tighten the image in on the edge. "And there's no blood on the edge of the pool. Nothing that shows where she supposedly hit her head and fell into the water so helpless and out of it she drowned."
"So, what are you saying?" Bellamy asks.
"Something happened to Rosa. Obviously. I just don't believe it was an accident. I need to find out who is responsible," I answer.
"No," Bellamy frowns. "You can't turn this into an investigation. That girl's death is sad. It was horrible and brutal. But it was also an unfortunate accident."
"I don't think it was," I argue, handing her the phone.
“Look, Emma, I agree. This is a bit suspect. And you’re right about the blood,” Eric starts.
“Thank you.”
“But still. Even if there was foul play here— and I’m not saying there was— there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. As Bureau agents, we can’t just pop in on random cases outside U.S. jurisdiction. We have to let local law enforcement handle this.”
“So we just sit here and go back to our beach vacation, ignoring this poor woman? What about finding out the truth? What about justice?”
"I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that you're looking for a way to get involved," Eric says. "You're in a holding pattern, and you can't stand it."
"That's not what this is," I fire back angrily. "But you don't have to worry about compromising your career. I'm not asking you to be involved."
Storming past them out of the room, I stalk down the hallway toward mine.
Chapter Twenty
I throw open the door to my room and am surprised to see Graciela inside. She forces a smile as she brushes tears away from her cheeks.
"When you weren't here when I first got in, I thought maybe I was going to get a reprieve from being startled by you," she tries to joke.
"Are you alright?" I ask.
She finishes wiping the counter and heads over to the balcony door.
"Yes," she says firmly as she sprays the door with cleaner and watches the drips glide down the glass. "It's more shocking than anything, really."
"You didn't know Rosa?"
"I knew her," she says, pulling a cloth from the pocket of her apron to start buffing away the cleaner. "But not very well. We have opposite schedules, so we don't work together." She pauses. "Had. We only talked a couple of times. But it's still sad to have someone you knew die that way. I just don't understand how it could have happened."
"What do you think happened?" I ask.
Graciela glances at me over her shoulder.
"I heard it was an accident," she tells me. "That she fell beside the pool."
"Do you believe that?"
Her expression is confused and tight as she moves on to work on the vanity mirror.
"I'm not sure what you're asking me."
"Do you think it's possible she could really have accidentally fallen and drowned?"
Her mouth opens like she's going to answer, then closes again as she reconsiders her words.
"That's what the police say. They told me she was floating in the water and had a cut on her head. I can't imagine anything else that might result in what happened to her.”
I nod, not wanting to lead her in any way.
“Somebody mentioned that she swam a lot. Do you know anything about that?”
“She swam every morning,” Graciela says. “I usually saw her coming from the pool when I was heading into the building to start my early rounds.” Sudden emotion comes to her face, and she glances away. “I can't believe I won't ever see that again.”
“Does
