Don't Taco 'Bout Murder (Mexican Mysteries Cozy Mystery Book 1) by Mona Marple

Author:Mona Marple [Marple, Mona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-27T16:00:00+00:00

He lead us through the winding streets of Janitzio Island with Miss Lulu trailing at his heel, until he indicated towards a small home. The dusty path was covered with marigolds, and we could hear the wailing inside before we even reached the door.

Jose rapped on the door and we heard shuffling from within. He was confident that Josefina would speak to us, as long as Maria wasn’t with us.

“What is it?” Josefina asked. She eyed Cornelius and I warily.

“Can we come in, madrecita?”

“No! Go away!”

“My friends here want to speak with you. They want to help you,” Jose explained.

Josefina looked up at us with a scowl. “What help can tourists be to me?”

“We think we can find out the truth of what happened to Francisco, if you’d let us try,” I said.

“I know the truth,” she called.

“I understand. And if you are right, then we will help you prove it. We just want Francisco to have justice,” I said, offering a gentle smile.

At her son’s name, Josefina began to wail again. She returned to the darkness of the house and left the door open. Jose shrugged and lead us inside.

We followed Josefina to a modest lounge, where she sat in a wicker chair.

But she wasn’t alone.

I recognised him by the Stetson, of course.

“Ah, you have more friends to visit. I’ll be on my way. Now remember what I said, Mrs Martinez. Your son’s death will not be in vain,” Bradley Hart said in his thick drawl as he rose from his chair. He tipped his hat at us on his way out.

“What did he want?” Jose asked.

“He came to pass on his condolences,” the old woman said. She reached for the side table and picked up a photograph, ran a finger across the glass and smiled a smile of longing.

“Of course. We’re very sorry for your loss,” Cornelius said as he shifted on his feet.

“You stay with the she-witch who did it! Have you seen sense now? Realised that she is evil?” Josefina asked.

“Mrs Martinez, we’re looking into all of the deaths. Francisco’s, and Miguel and Daniel too,” I explained.

“So you see that they weren’t accidents?”

I crossed the room in a few steps and sat on the floor in front of Josefina. “I don’t know yet. But I’d like to find out. Can you tell me about your son?”

Josefina turned the photograph around so that I could see. The man in the picture must have been in his 50s, meaning Josefina had been a young mum. She had spent most of her life with Francisco by her side. His death would be devastating for her.

He looked out from the image, forever frozen in time, standing aboard a boat. He hadn’t realised the image was being taken. He didn’t look at the camera and he didn’t smile. He was working, doing something with the butterfly net that had been his downfall, his bare arms tanned and muscular from days of hard work.

“He was a good son,” Josefina said with a shrug.

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