“Oh, perfect,” I say. “Thank you.”
Tucking the card in my pocket, I start back to my room. Before I get all the way to the door, a figure steps out from around the side of the building and startles me.
“I'm sorry,” a deep voice says, and when I turn to look at him fully, I realize it's the man I saw both Graciela and Rosa speaking with.
“You,” I say.
“Is it true you're with the FBI?” he asks.
“I am a special agent, yes,” I tell him. “But for now, I am mainly a consultant more than an active agent.” I hold out my hand to his. "Emma Griffin."
Eric is right. The Bureau has no jurisdiction here, which means we have no real right to be involved in the investigation. We can’t perform any arrests and we have no legal standing. Distancing myself from my role as an agent will not only put people at ease so they are more likely to cooperate but might lessen the negative press that might happen if this all explodes.
For now, I’ll lean into being a consultant. It sounds official enough to earn trust, and distant enough to not make someone feel as if he is facing imminent arrest.
He doesn't take my hand but looks almost frantically from side to side and takes a step closer.
“Emmanuel Vargas,” he says quickly, more like an appeasement than an introduction. “I need to speak with you.”
"You were with Rosa before she died," I say. "And I saw you speaking with Graciela."
"I can't talk about it right now. I'll contact you tomorrow. It's extremely important."
I barely have a chance to nod my acknowledgement before he rushes away. As I head up to my room, I call Bellamy.
"Remember the mysterious man Graciela insists I didn't see her speaking to, and who hasn't made a statement or anything even though we saw him with Rosa, not a full day before she died?" I ask.
"Yeah," she replies.
"I just had a talk with the phantom."
Chapter Twenty-Four
The sun has already started to set, and the temperature has dropped enough that my shorts aren't enough anymore. I head up to my room and change into jeans, then call for room service for dinner. I don't want to go down to the staff village too early, but I also don't want it to be so late that everyone is asleep. Part of the reason for going down there is to see how much activity I can witness and if it will tell me anything.
When I finish eating, I call Bellamy to ask if she's ready to go. She says she'll meet me downstairs, and I grab a light jacket to put on over my tank top before heading downstairs to meet her.
Unsurprisingly, Bellamy is already outside the building when I step out.
“Have you spoken to Eric?” she asks.
“No,” I tell her. “Have you?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “I sent him a couple of texts, but he hasn't responded since he left the spa.”
“I'm sure he's fine. He probably got a deep tissue massage and ended up passing out when he got back to his room. You know how wound up he gets. He's like a rubber band. Really effective when it's tense, but as soon as you loosen it up, it's no good.”
She laughs.
“That's true. Alright, so what's the plan? How are we going to do this?”
“We're going to walk down the path to the staff village,” I tell her.
“That's it?” she asks. “We're just going to walk down there?”
“If we don't want to call a bunch of attention to ourselves, yes. If we have to come up with something else when we get there, that's what we'll do. But for the most part, the least complicated path is the best one to follow. And in this situation, the least complicated path is the brick one that leads right past the lobby and down to the village,” I tell her.
She looks a little disappointed, but she doesn't argue, and we make our way down the path. As we go, I pay attention to the people around us. Like I did the first night, I notice couples walking around together, and in some places, small groups gather and head off to different areas of the resort.
For the first time, I notice a few of the faces look familiar. I recognize two of the housekeepers standing with one of the men who carried our luggage and another man I don't recognize. They have their heads close together and are talking quietly, then another man approaches, and the conversation ends. The women smile at him, and they walk away with the attendant close behind.
“Did you find out anything from the housekeeper?” I ask.
“There wasn't a lot to find out, honestly,” Bellamy replies. “She told me she has always dreamed of traveling the world and seeing exciting new places. She grew up in some tiny little town in Texas and thought she was never going to get out of it, but when she heard about the opportunity to work here, it sounded incredible. They were offering good pay, benefits, and a ton of perks. They told her they would make sure her family was taken care of, offered her room and board, the whole thing.”
“Just like Graciela,” I reply. “That sounds exactly like what she told me.”
“I'm guessing if you spoke to everybody on staff here, you'd find that story being told quite a bit. Working on an island resort isn't exactly the type of job people take lightly. They live here on the island without their families or friends, so it takes a type of person who really wants an adventure to accept a position like this,” she says.
“Or someone who desperately needs the opportunity,” I muse. “Did
