Sweetheart Deal by Linda Joffe Hull Page A

I thought it was, Geo rushed over to us from the rented equipment van parked behind the SUV.
    â€œWho’s going to explain to me why neither of you bothered to fill me in on this fue asesinado business?”
    â€œHow did you …?” Frank asked, his smooth newscaster voice cracking and trailing off.
    Geo glanced in the direction of my stepdaughter, who stood a little too close to Ivan under a nearby tree. “The appearance of a mysterious lady with sobering information does tend to leave one’s children understandably concerned.”
    â€œEloise …” I heard myself say.
    â€œEloise doesn’t even speak Spanish,” Frank added.
    â€œApparently she remembered the word asesinado from a skit she did in high school,” Geo said.
    Of all the things for Eloise, who wasn’t necessarily known for her acute mind or elephant-like memory, to remember, the Spanish word for murdered had to stick with her?
    â€œSeriously.” Geo folded his arms across his chest. “Why didn’t one of you two tell me about this right away?”
    â€œI— we —thought we’d ask a few questions and see why someone would say such a thing before getting everyone else all up in arms,” I said quickly and making confirmatory eye contact with Frank. “Particularly the kids.”
    â€œHard to get much past your brood,” Geo said far too meaningfully for my taste.
    The rubbery feeling in my legs travelled throughout my body.
    â€œSo, what did you find out when you started asking questions?” Geo asked.
    â€œUh, I …” I stammered.
    â€œWe haven’t heard much of anything,” Frank interjected, not mentioning my recent interchange with Felipe.
    â€œWell, I’m sure the woman was trying to get on TV,” Geo said definitively. “They always are.”
    â€œExactly,” Frank agreed.
    â€œBut maybe you should look into things a little further,” Geo went on.
    â€œWhat?” Frank and I asked in unison.
    â€œMake a few inquiries,” he said, with what could only be described as a smirk.
    â€œBut—”
    â€œWhat will viewers think knowing Alejandro died and we simply packed up and left without looking into any unanswered questions? ”
    â€œThey’ll think it was an accident, since that’s what’s on the official report,” I said, still wondering if I was really hearing what I thought I was hearing.
    â€œMaddie …” Geo took my hand and held it in his slightly damp palms. “These days you’re almost as much a sleuth as you are a savvy shopper.”
    Desperate as I was to gauge his reaction, I didn’t dare glance over at Frank. “I doubt we’ll be able to find out much before we leave tomorrow,” I said. “Most of the people we’d probably want to talk to will still be at the wake.”
    â€œBut not all,” Geo said.
    As Felipe—who was just out of earshot but well within collusion range—flashed what should have been a comforting smile, I looked into the open back door of the van and spotted the camera.
    With its red light staring right at us.
    Geo handed us yet another revised schedule. “What do you say we kick things off with a visit to the timeshare sales office?”

thirteen
    The resort was, as I suspected (and for lack of a better word), dead. A skeleton crew was all that remained to attend to guests while most everyone on staff still seemed to be at Alejandro’s postfuneral wake. The notable exception was the resort sales office, which was not only very much open for business, but suddenly the site of our 2:00: Console grieving staff members and finalize timeshare paperwork shoot.
    â€œI don’t find it entirely surprising that Geo wants us to look into things,” Frank said as soon as the makeup artist finished touching us up, leaving us alone for the first moment since we’d been handed our afternoon schedule.