Mystery by the Sea Read online

  “What’s happening, Lorenzo?” were Doris’ last words before leaving the house and heading toward the detectives’ car. That was the same question that Lorenzo asked himself over and over again while the waves smacked against the beach, swallowing the night silence like thunder.

  Chapter 2

  The atmosphere at the police station was a far cry from the swarm of activity and movement usually seen there during the day. The space was quiet and empty while Lorenzo waited. Aside from the guard, there was only one other man there, seated in silence on the opposite side of the room. Lorenzo wondered how that man could remain motionless while he himself could not stop changing positions because of the pain produced by the uncomfortable bench. He tried to get comfortable, changing positions again. The wooden bench in the waiting room seemed to get harder with each passing minute. He had tried shifting and repositioning himself over and over during the two hours that he had spent waiting without finding the desired relief.

  It was two thirty in the morning and his attorney, Alexis Mojica, still had not come out to give him more information. Lorenzo did not want to be demanding, but he needed something, some small breadcrumb to calm his appetite to understand what was happening.

  Alexis, 31 years old, was an old school friend of both Lorenzo and Doris. He was not a criminal attorney, however, which did not instill a lot of confidence in Lorenzo. His specialty was in civil litigation, property, and contracts. His father was the owner of an important supermarket chain and was considered one of the most successful businessmen in the area. His two older brothers followed in their father’s footsteps, amassing individual fortunes. One was a medical surgeon and the other was the owner of a firm specializing in security.

  Only Alexis did not carry the family title of millionaire. Nevertheless, Lorenzo had observed that Alexis was a family man and that the fame and fortune that ran in his family did not seem to interest him. For that reason, Lorenzo could not think of anyone else when looking for an attorney. Alexis knew both Lorenzo and Doris from childhood; he would surely do everything possible to help them. Although his experience in criminal cases was limited, his passion would compensate for anything he lacked. In any case, Lorenzo could not afford the luxury of anything better. His economic situation was not going well and this new problem was not helping to improve it.

  In spite of it all, Lorenzo was hoping that everything was a bad misunderstanding. A goof-up that might cause him a headache and one night without sleep, nothing more. At least it would be a good story for Doris’ boring office parties that he sometimes had to attend. Murder? Impossible! Nothing was making any sense, so there must be a reasonable explanation.

  Lorenzo rested his gaze on the man on the other side of the room. Scruffy and dirty, the man had been staring at him for a while but with no clear expression on his face. Lorenzo tried to smile at him before finally turning away from his disturbing gaze. This is the type of person that you would expect to see here, not us, he reasoned to himself. But there they were.

  The clock read three o’clock in the morning when Alexis came through the waiting room door. Lorenzo jumped up from the bench and followed the attorney, who signaled with his hand for Lorenzo to accompany him toward the exit. Outside, he stopped in front of the beverage vending machine. He asked Lorenzo if he would like one, which Lorenzo turned down, and then Alexis inserted his bill into the slot. To his displeasure, the machine returned it to him.

  “At this time of night, there’s probably nothing left,” sighed Alexis, disappointed.

  “What do you think about all this?” Lorenzo eagerly asked.

  “It’s still too early to say. It’s best that you go home and sleep. There’s nothing else you can do here,” recommended Alexis.

  “But what’s going to happen to Doris? Is she under arrest? Do they think she was involved? Tell me something.”

  “She is under arrest, but they have not brought formal charges against her. They’ve put her in a cell for the night. You can rest easy, though, because they’re treating her well,” he assured him. “Go home and sleep because you’re going to need it. Tomorrow we can talk more calmly because we’ll know what all of our options are. The district attorney is a friend of mine, and I’m hoping that he’ll offer us something reasonable,” explained Alexis with calm and certainty.

  Lorenzo nodded his head in silence. He understood that at this time of night he could not ask much of his attorney. At least Alexis had shown up, given the hour, and he seemed to have control of the situation. Besides, Lorenzo’s body indicated that he needed to rest. Unfortunately, the lack of information did not help calm him down, much less help him sleep. They said goodbye and each one drove off in his car down the empty street.

  Fifteen minutes later, Lorenzo was at his house on the beach. As was his habit, he parked his car next to Doris’, an elegant champagne-colored four-door Japanese sedan. It felt very strange to him that Doris’ car was at home, but she was not. It was a reminder of the abnormal circumstances they were trapped in. He slowly climbed the stairs, dragging his feet along each step, with no strength or desire to fully lift them up. He opened the door and instinctively looked at the balcony. The sea was extremely quiet right now, as if it had been sleeping, like the rest of the world at that time of night, which was especially uncharacteristic for that particular beach.

  Doris and Lorenzo had not lived there too long. In fact, Doris did not really like the idea of moving to the beach. During the first few months, she had claimed that the noise from the waves kept her up at night. But Lorenzo needed it and the doctor recommended it. Nevertheless, he felt somewhat guilty because there was no notable improvement in his mood in the months following the move. He continued without work and did not make any real effort to find any. If the move had had any positive effects, they were still on the inside, undetected. Moving to the beach should have helped him, not only by changing his surroundings but also by living somewhere that was comforting to him.

  But it did not comfort Lorenzo that night. After lying down, he spent the night staring at the ceiling and if, for a few moments, he was able to find sleep, it lasted only briefly.

  The clock struck five when his phone rang, making him jump and his pulse race. The police station was calling him. They needed him to show up immediately. Lorenzo dressed as fast as he could and left the house. But something made him stop. His house was not his house. Nor was his car his car. At first, he could not believe the images his eyes sent to his brain, but then he knew the only reasonable explanation: he was dreaming.

  He was awake but within a dream. He tried to wake up, jumping up and down and slapping his face, but it did not work. He was worried about the type of dream he was having. Was it a good dream or a terrifying nightmare? He decided to let it run its course, getting into his car and taking off. As soon as he started down the road, a heavy downpour fell, blurring his visibility. It seemed like the sky was breaking open, sending down a torrent of water rather than just drops. Lightning flashed, accompanied by deafening thunder and sparks of purple. Why was he not waking up with all that noise?

  It was no surprise to him that the road did not look at all like the one actually leading from his house. This one was much narrower with hillsides of thick vegetation on both sides. Although he did not push the pedal, the car accelerated sharply, as did his heart. He thought that that moment would be a good time to wake up. He slammed on the brakes, but there was no change in speed. Then what appeared to be a huge, white lump struck the windshield, rolled over the top of the car, and fell onto the pavement.

  An animal? he wondered. The car stopped. No inertia, it just stopped. It was then that Lorenzo realized what type of dream he was having, which is why he could not find a way to open the door to see what hit the car. He did not have to, however, because he was already standing outside under the dense downpour. He walked around to the back of the car. About 30 feet away, something was sprawled on the ground wrapped in a white cloth. Perhaps a sheet or a blanket. He
moved closer and instantly knew that it was a person. He could not see the face, though, because the person was facedown. He bent down, grabbed ahold of one arm and moved it, turning the person faceup. The face was still covered, so he slowly pulled away the cloth to discover Doris’ face. She opened her eyes and in a sudden movement, grabbed Lorenzo, screaming louder than the thunder.

  “Help meeeeeeeeeeee!” she cried out, shaking Lorenzo to the bones.

  Then Lorenzo opened his eyes and woke up. That is what disturbed him the most; he did not wake up suddenly, upset and sweaty, like you usually do after a nightmare. The second thing was that he was not on the bed anymore; he was lying on the floor. He could not believe that the sun’s rays were already coming through the bedroom blinds. It felt like he had just fallen asleep. He felt terribly exhausted and apathetic, but he attempted to stand up anyway and head to the bathroom to brush his teeth as usual. Just then, a voice called his name and made him jump. It was Doris’ voice, but she was not there. No one was there. His tired, worried, and stressed out mind was playing another dirty trick on him.

  He decided to try to eat something. He could get a call from Alexis at any moment and would possibly have little opportunity to eat during the day. He walked into the kitchen and poured a little cereal for himself into a yellow plastic bowl. He added a splash of milk and tried to take a bite, but he really was not hungry. Worry had stolen his appetite, but he had to eat something.

  Just then, a vibration coming from the top of the kitchen cabinet caught his attention. His cell phone moved closer to the edge with each vibration. Lorenzo saved it just before it took a fatal fall. When he grabbed it he saw that the screen displayed a new text message. As he opened it, he read: “Please call 444-5665.” Since he did not recognize the number, he proceeded to ignore it. He was fed up with the constant calls from both financial institutions and persistent insurance salesmen. Besides, marketing inquiries and surveys had robbed him of more time than he was willing to waste. If he was going to waste his time, he preferred to do so sleeping or swimming on the beach rather than answering one of those phone calls.

  He deleted the message and resumed his attempt to force-feed himself the sugary corn cereal while analyzing the situation he was in. Nothing made sense, of course. He did not have enough information. Then again, more information would not necessarily put him at ease. When his work accident happened two years ago, he knew all the details, but it had not helped him one bit.

  His mind was suddenly flooded with an abundance of details about his time working on construction projects as an operator of heavy machinery. He started out as a mason’s aide on a residential development. Then, after some time, he had learned enough to become the lead mason on smaller projects. It was hard work, but it helped him put food on the table while Doris finished her university degree.

  One time, working on a construction project for an industrial complex, Lorenzo decided to stick his nose in and offer to help. Since the excavator operator was absent due to a family emergency and given that it was a quick and easy job, the foreman agreed. Lorenzo liked it. He continued learning and taking training courses until he earned his operator’s license. At that time, there were good employment opportunities in the field. The employment opportunities in Puerto Rico were especially good because there was a rise in the number of infrastructure projects, such as restoring roads and sanitation systems, due to the aging of these vital systems in the island’s cities and towns.

  That is how his career operating that type of equipment started. He eventually developed the specialty of using hydraulic excavators to dig trenches, thus increasing his demand. There were not many operators trained in this area and Lorenzo had spent more than a year perfecting his technique, practicing scooping movements daily, even on jobs that did not require it. As a result of his hard work, he was able to establish a career that spanned many towns and many different types of projects. He was so skilled that he began to consider the machinery an extension of his hands. He did not have to think about which lever to pull or what pedal to push; everything flowed naturally.

  Even though operating the machinery became second nature to Lorenzo, safety was still of utmost importance. He was very aware of the added risk that heavy machinery poses in any workplace where it is used, which is why he always took the necessary safety precautions. At the start of each workday, he ensured that the horns, backup motion alarms, mirrors, lights, and all other safety mechanisms were in order and that everything was in good working condition. He even knew the blind spots for all the machines that he normally operated. Yet one summer morning, about two years ago, the unthinkable happened.

  Lorenzo was working on a housing project in the first stages of construction, using a hydraulic excavator to dig a trench, as usual. On that occasion, he was performing a scoop where he had to put the machine in a tight position at an upward angle. This afforded him less freedom of movement and less visibility. To counterbalance that, Lorenzo had a co-worker help guide the movements in his blind spots. After many hours of work, Lorenzo prepared to turn the shovel to unload material, but his colleague-guide was tending to a call on his cell phone. Lorenzo was positive the man had given him the sign to proceed, which the man later denied, and when Lorenzo turned the shovel, one of the inspectors watching the job was struck in the back as he was leaving the area.

  The runaround started and accusations flew from one side to the other. The injured man was brought to the hospital, where he was hospitalized for several months. Although he did not die, he suffered injuries that would prevent him from walking again. Lorenzo was suspended and shortly afterward he voluntarily resigned.

  Who was at fault? That was the question that Lorenzo heard most, both from others and in his own head for many months. From his superiors, the attorneys, his family members, etc. Some assured him that he was not responsible while others said that he was. To this day, he still was not sure. Could he have taken additional precautions? The incident was eventually classified as an unfortunate accident that could have been avoided if everyone, including the injured man, had taken the necessary safety measures. In any case, the situation weighed on Lorenzo to the point of his being mentally and emotionally unable to work.

  Returning to the present, Lorenzo put the last bite of cereal in his mouth as his cell phone started to vibrate yet again, this time on the kitchen table. When he checked it, he realized it was another text message. The number was showing as unknown. He opened it and read: “Please call 444-5665 Doris case info.” It was the same number as the previous text message. Maybe it was a joke made in poor taste, Lorenzo thought to himself. People could be very cruel when scandalous things came into the public eye. But who would know what was happening at that moment aside from those who were directly involved? As far as he knew, the press had simply reported Pedroza’s death and had not published the name of any person of interest.

  Curiosity won over reason and Lorenzo decided to dial the number. The call connected, but no one answered. Yet, Lorenzo could sense that there was someone on the other line, so he took the initiative.

  “Hi. I received a message with this number,” Lorenzo greeted the speaker.

  “Yes, it was from me,” said a man’s voice. “Thank you for calling.”

  Lorenzo was immediately able to infer that the man was attempting to change his natural tone of voice.

  “Who is this?” he asked with caution.

  “I can’t tell you. At least not for now. Not over the phone. Meet me at the Saltwater Lighthouse in one hour, please. Come alone. Otherwise, our meeting will be canceled,” he warned threateningly.

  “Why should I come? I don’t even know your name,” said Lorenzo.

  “I can only tell you one thing: Doris is innocent,” responded the man, ending the call. Now Lorenzo had more questions and was more confused than before, but he also had something that he considered even more valuable at the moment…a thread of hope.

  Chapter 3

  The Saltwater Li
ghthouse had been built at the end of the 19th century on rocky terrain in front of an imposing cliff. Through the years, the waves had smacked against the enormous rocks with such force that they had eroded and fallen along the shore. The striking view had transformed the lighthouse and its surroundings into a very busy tourist attraction. In fact, Costa Linda’s economy depended on this industry. There were several beaches for swimming and others that were ideal for surfing. A good number of hotels, large and small, had been built along the coast as well as summer homes, restaurants, and souvenir shops. Definitely a town that depended on tourism.

  Lorenzo felt exactly like a tourist when he climbed up to the lighthouse along one of the paths that crossed the surrounding wild terrain. Part of the site’s charm was its inaccessibility by car, which was appealing to the multitudes of tourists that frequented the site in search of adventure. Lorenzo did not find it especially appealing, but being surrounded by tourists reminded him of his past travels and vacations. For a few seconds he once again felt carefree, suspended in time, as he had during those unforgettable moments.

  When he had been on vacation, especially traveling, the days seemed longer. He got up very early and surrounded himself with so many activities that, by the end of the day, he felt that he had really lived. In contrast, the normal, routine days that filled the calendar now seemed to fly by at an ever-faster speed. Watching the tourists that morning, he was briefly infected with their enthusiasm for seeing new sites and experiencing new adventures.

  Lorenzo ended his walk in front of the building that housed the lighthouse. There was no interior access, but the lighthouse was functional. Clearly, the site’s attraction was the astonishing view of the cliff and the rock formations at its base.