Hector smiled broadly when Glenda demanded he back up her story about being alone the previous night. After she told him what happened his demeanor changed. Another murder. This time the woman he had been spying on. He would need his own alibi if anyone saw him near the Ordman suite that morning.

He listened carefully as she told him what had happened at the interview and to say they had met in her room because he needed to check the front door lock. That he had been around several times checking the suite afterwards and that he had spoken to her a few times and was positive she was in residence and alone. It was a plausible plan and they would be telling the same story but he couldn't resist testing the waters.

"But you weren't, Senorita Weiss." He blew a stream of smoke from the side of his mouth.

"Neither of us want me to say you were in my bed all night so don't screw with me, Hector, or you'll be right alongside me on the carpet."

"Now that sounds like a sensible offer for my cooperation."

"What?"

"Being alongside you on the carpet." He smiled again and undid his belt.

"In your dreams." She started across the room to the door. "I'll call you when I need you again- and it won't be tonight."

"Do not think you can order me about so casually, senorita. My fate is in more hands than you even know about so we should perhaps reconsider exactly what our future relationship will be." He stubbed out his cigarillo angrily in the ashtray, carelessly knocking it onto the carpet and made a move toward her.

"You better think that one through yourself, Hector. I'm your only alibi for the other night too and I can box you in so tightly you won't know what hit you. You might consider my current relationship with Senor Ordman." She opened the door and waited, tight-lipped.

********

Gary waited in the shadows outside the kitchen and when he recognized the young maid who came out, singing a pleasant goodnight to her friends, he grabbed her arm, covered her mouth and pulled her into a dark corner behind the building.

"Shhh, I'm not going to hurt you. It's me, Gary."

"Senor Ordman you scared the life from me."

"Listen- I need your name and your help. I'll pay you for your help."

She calmed down and wound her fingers in his shirtfront. "I have never asked to be paid, senor."

"No, no . . . you don't understand. It's not that. I need your name and I need you to say you spent last night with me . . . all night."

"Why do you need this favour, senor?"

"I just need it, okay? All you have to do is say you spent the whole night with me."

"Where were you, senor?"

"In my apartment- it doesn't matter, just do this for me."

"You were not alone." It was a shrewd statement not a question.

Gary swallowed hard and looked about furtively. "I was with someone else, you're right but I can't say who she- who it was."

"I am thinking it was the very attractive Senorita Burrows." Again a statement not a question.

Gary coughed and went pale. "You can't say that . . . to anybody. Please do this for me and I will pay you well."

Her hand slid down to his waist. "How much are you offering me?" The other hand joined the first and Gary grunted as he tried to hold her still while he explained.

"I'll give you one hundred dollars. Now I need your name, what's your name?"

"You can call me Astrid and for one hundred dollars I will even marry you, senor." She pushed her hands toward him and pushed him back against the wall

********

Miller lay with his arms behind his head watching Billy go about the room gathering her laundry, dressing and generally preparing for the day.

"You look very domestic doing that stuff."

"And you look like a lazy slob. I'm heading for breakfast and then to see Warez so if you don't want to be left out you'd better get that tattooed bottom hustling."

"You promised not to mention that, remember?"

"I know, but how many men do I know with a rose on their bum?"

"I told you, it was a dare." He tossed the sheet back and reached for his shorts.

"And daring it is, Miller. I would never have guessed it of you." She teased. She tossed him his shirt and came around to straighten the bed.

"Don't you get maid service?"

"I do, it's just a gossip diversion. I don't need any policing by my father right now."

"Oh ho! It's okay to be an escort to wealthy investors but heaven forbid a lowly, tattooed nobody find his way under your sheets." He stood, buttoning his shirt and kicking into his sandals.

Her expression flattened and she left the room without responding. Miller mentally booted himself and hurried after her.

"I was kidding, Billy," he said, catching up. "I didn't mean to sound mean."

"Forget it. Better think about what we say to Warez." They wound their way through the walkways around the pool court to the dining room and went inside, greeting a scowling Anita.

"Fear not, Senorita, I will not be using a chit today. Today I will fill your purse with pesos."

She raised her chin and assumed a haughty demeanor. "We prefer US dollars, senor."

"Perhaps, but I prefer pesos, the official coin of the government of the country." He walked past and selected a roomy table for four without asking and waited patiently for his menu. Anita shot a glance at Billy, expecting support from the manager's daughter but received none. Rather than cause a scene she gave them menus and departed quickly.

"She can be very nice if you treat her the same way."

"She's a shrew and I'm not wasting my time." He studied the menu and set it aside.

"No second chances with Miller Hunt, eh?"

"Not for her. Will you order, my Spanish sucks?" Billy complied and he sat back surveying the room. He noticed the same couple they'd seen arguing at the bar the day before occupying a table across the room and they didn't seem any happier today. "Check it out." He lifted his chin in their direction.

Billy turned then faced back. "Our lovebirds from the bar."

"The ones you said mentioned something about Graves, remember?"

"You really think they're connected somehow." She took another look.

"It's not impossible. But you said something about some bitch getting the same as Graves."

"Hold on, Miller. I told you what I thought I heard and none of it was as complete a sentence as that. You're embellishing."

"Okay but it might be worth looking into."

"What? We're not the police, Miller. Let Warez do the investigating. We'll tell him what we know and keep out of it."

"Fine for you, you've got daddy looking out for you. I'm his prime suspect for some reason." The food arrived and they devoted their attention to the crisp bacon, juice and fresh, hot bread.

******

Captain Warez ran slim fingers over his trace of a moustache and frowned at the couple in front of his desk. The news that the second body was not only a guest but also a business partner with the first victim had not improved his manner, particularly since the pair across from him was already suspect. He listened to Miller's attempt to change that perception with strained patience.

"This alleged conversation you say you heard, are you suggesting the couple you saw are responsible for the death of Senor Graves and possibly Senorita Burrows because of a few scattered words?"

"It's as good a possibility as picking on me," Miller stated.

"Senor Hunt, I do not pick on people. I ascertain facts, analyze them and make conclusions. And for your information these people, among many others, have been interviewed a second time and are scheduled for additional interviews as we speak so if you would permit me to conduct this investigation in my own manner . . ." He stood and went to the door, holding it open for them.

"See if they know anything about the second-"

"Día bueno, Senor Hunt!" Warez ran a hand through his hair and cursed to the empty room. "Amateurs! And they arrive at plausible conclusions while I struggle in circles!"

********

The patio was alive once again with busy staff setting out tables and chairs and readying the stage for the evening's entertainment. It was for the Festival el Toro, a gathering of all the resort staff and the guests for a huge barbeque on the pool court. Singers and dancers would be coming from the surrounding villages to perform and there would be a huge draw for a two-week vacation, all expenses paid at the resort for two lucky couples.

Miller meanly hoped they would find it was in the uniquely exclusive accommodation with private entrance and a magnificent view of the ocean and surrounding landscape

The annual event had grown in proportion to a point where it even received national media coverage. Carlos worried about the fact that some reporters might just decide to cover the festival and uncover the tightly secured murder investigation taking place.

Once again, Helen Ramirez exercised her calm judgement and assured him that she would personally deflect any attempts by the media to attend what was essentially a private celebration exclusive to Windy Palms. Now she was deploying her small army of staff efficiently; her smart looks made her a standout among the uniformed staff and the casually dressed guests loitering about the patio.

A special section had been set aside for owners and interested new investors, which was supposed to be hosted by Shelia Burrows but now would be changed to a designated hospitality area where Carlos and senior staff members would perform that duty. The difference was there would be no subtle sales pitches.

The pair left the resort offices and headed toward the beach. Miller paused, considering going back and giving Warez a piece of his mind but Billy took his arm and dragged him away. "You really know how to endear yourself to people don't you?" They headed down to the pool court in single file.

"I've learned since I've been down here that the squeaky wheel gets the grease." He said, watching the steps in front of him. Miller didn't realize she'd stopped and he bumped into her from behind. "Oomph!"

"Shhhh, look over there." Billy moved next to a large palm type shrub and peered through the fronds. "It's the woman from the bar again and in the restaurant this morning." Miller followed her pointing finger and watched the woman speak into her cell phone and then snap it shut and jam it in her purse. She shook her hair and then crossed the patio and sat down in lounge next to one that was occupied by a middle-aged man with milky white legs and deeply tanned arms from the biceps down and a matching vee at the neck.

They watched an animated conversation between them that ended with the man holding his hand up and chopping abruptly down, twice. The woman turned away stared out at the ocean.

"Suddenly you're Nancy Drew?" He said.

"No, because that man is Hector Prince, the resort security chief's second in command." They took a wide berth of the couple and came around the other side of the pool near the area used for the musicians during parties, selecting a table protected by plantings and a large umbrella. Busy staff members trotted back and forth in front of them with tables and ornaments, all chattering and laughing as they followed Helen's directions.

"Nice job." Miller remarked, referring to the security guard.

"Yes. He really isn't supposed to be mingling with the guests like that."

"He doesn't seem to concerned."

"Charles is in town today attending a police seminar. He's been back and forth to meetings all week. Hector is in charge while he's gone."

"Doesn't your dad-"

"No, he doesn't. Just watch and be quiet."