"What was that?" she asked, as Rollie heard people shouting below their bungalow. He swung his feet over to the side of the bed and was getting reading to stand and put on his watch when he saw the note by the lamp on the bedstand.
"What's this?" he said aloud as Angie moved over, sitting beside him, "It's addressed to me and you, it's from…" and Rollie flipped the letter over and read, "Michael Sanchez."
"What does it say?" Angie asked, raising her eyebrow up, mystified.
"Rollie and Angie- I have ended our rather torturous relationship with what I hope will be a final solution for all. Below this note, you will see my wedding band. Please give this to Mira and tell her that I never stopped being married to her in my mind and in my heart. I am sorry for the untidy mess that awaits you. Rollie, keep the faith…Michael," Rollie finished reading and looked up at Angie, shaking his head.
"It ends with that?" Angie asked, standing up and pulling on her jeans, grabbing a T-shirt and trying to get it on without creating more pain.
Rollie stood up and helped her with her shirt, trying to keep his face from revealing his inner thoughts; "Yes, nothing else, Angie."
There was a rapid, impatient knock on the door and the voice on the other side was nervous and upset; "Oh hurry!" called the voice of Lucinda from the other side.
Rollie opened the door, seeing a teary Lucinda at the door. She came in, rushing over to Angie, and hugged her, forgetting about her ribs.
"Oh my God! That Michael Sanchez! He went and shot himself in the head with a 12-gauge shotgun! This is all my fault!" Lucinda was crying and Angie realized that she was still in love with the man who had pretended to be Ricardo Conte.
"What?" Rollie asked, incredulously, "No way!"
Angie was shocked as well. She had never thought of Michael Sanchez as the type that would kill himself. He had a great sense of self-preservation and ego.
"I don't believe it. I'm going down there right now!" Rollie said, pulling his shirt on as Angie and Lucinda followed. They took the path down to the lower bungalow, people standing outside, murmuring among themselves as the sound of sirens in the distance could be heard. The police were on their way. The Lodge personnel were holding people away but Rollie quickly had Lucinda and Angie cause a diversion with dropping Lucinda's handbag in front of the two of them and he crept inside.
The man sitting in the chair was dressed in the same clothes that Michael had worn when Rollie had last seen him. He could also see the fresh indentation left on the left index finger, the ring that he had worn and had never taken off, unlike Mira. His watch, the holster, and his revolver were all in place. The shotgun lay on the floor, drenched in blood and human remains. What Rollie couldn't make out, was the face. He had literally blown his face off. Rollie gagged and stepped back, putting his wrist up over his mouth as he walked back outside, the Lodge personnel seeing him and angrily motioning him to get out. Rollie stepped on the porch and came over to Angie and Lucinda with an expression of repulsion as well as shock.
"It looks like him, the clothes, the personal effects. It is grotesque so don't look in there, okay?" Rollie told them as the police arrived and fanned out, pushing the crowd back further. Syd Waterstreet had come up to the three of them and was frowning, scratching his head.
"Another one killed! This place is giving me the creeps, National Geographical Society or not! I have a meeting with production in little under two hours and this happens again. In the same room and all! At least it wasn't one of my actors this time," he added, pulling his hat off and then readjusting it back on his head.
Rollie looked down at his feet as Lucinda buried her head in his chest and he held her close as well as Angie. Angie was clear-eyed, confused, and suspicious. Rollie had a feeling as well but he had seen with his own two eyes- the body, and the items belonging to Michael.
The wallet and passport were brought out and Rollie was asked about Michael Sanchez and his relationship with him. When the simple explanation was given, that Michael was the ex-husband of Mira Sanchez, a New York Detective and had been down in Costa Rica, posing as Ricardo Conte, the police threw up their hands and bantered among themselves. They showed Rollie and Lucinda 3 passports, one for Sanchez, Lopez, and Conte. Rollie just shrugged and put out his hands in confusion. He truly didn't know what to think anymore. The nagging part of his brain was telling him that Michael had staged this, but with the note and the ring in their room, he wondered again.
They made Lucinda go in and identify the body as Ricardo Conte which she did, then promptly threw up, the terrible sight of the body's condition sickening her. No acting was required as she was gently questioned and then released.
With the investigation wrapped up, again rather quickly for Rollie's tastes, they brought the body out, a blanket over the stretcher. Technicians had gathered baggies filled with the rest of the remains and stuffed them under the blanket, but not completely. As the stretcher passed the crowd, Angie and Rollie stood quietly together. Lucinda stood apart from them now and stopped the stretcher for a moment as it passed her, suddenly reaching in and taking the stiffening hand and holding it, closing her eyes. The investigators went crazy, yelling at her in Spanish and mixed English. She looked startled and dropped the hand, and the stretcher went by her, the hand outstretched now from the blanket in uncovered view.
Rollie walked over to her and held her by the shoulders, "Come on, Luce. I am so sorry that this has happened to you, really! I know Michael did something terrible to you and that playing Ricardo Conte was a big blow to you and somehow- you are still in love with that part of him…"
"What? Are you kidding me?" she said, looking up at him, her face streaked with running mascara, "would you look at this? She put out her hand, palm side up and showed him her hand in the afternoon's fading sun.
"What am I looking at?" he asked, seeing that, other than her hand appearing like she had some ink across the upper portion of the palm, there was nothing.
"That body was not Michael Sanchez's," she said, firmly as Angie looked at her hand curiously, "That body had blue ink in between the thumb and index finger like they use for tattoo designs for ceremonies- like that Indian guy- Juan. He was covered from head to toe in the stuff last night."
"You're saying that that faceless body is Juan, the Indian with the MBA from Harvard? The guy that dumped the dirt on Angie?" Rollie asked, excitedly.
"I'd bet my Oscar on it," Lucinda replied, gritting her teeth and then, smiling at Rollie, added; "That is, when I get it."
"So he did it, the slick bastard. He killed that guy, switched the clothes and personal items and just walked out of here," Rollie said, clenching his jaw tightly.
"Sounds like a very Michael thing to do," Angie remarked, shrugging her shoulders.
"So, what about Mira. Wonder if the police are contacting her yet?" Lucinda brought up, thinking about how this might affect the detective.
"Guess I will give her a call," Rollie said, as they all walked back, waving at Syd who was getting ready to have his meeting with production.
Lucinda left them to go back to her bungalow. Angie and Rollie both wondered how she was really taking all of this, but she smiled bravely and walked back alone, not wanting to stay with them at this point.
After getting back inside the room, Rollie sat down and rubbed his eyes, looking over at Angie, "Hey, come here…"
She smiled and sat on the bed next to him as he kissed her softly, then lingered, his kiss telling her something else- resolution.
"My last official call to Mira with anything to do with police business and Tyler F/X. I made a promise and I am planning on keeping it."
"A man of his word, I don't know what to say," she said, kissing him back and holding his face with her hands, "except- I will probably regret this promise that you have undertaken."
Their eyes met, drawn to each other and suddenly Angie shut her eyes; "Better get that call in, Mira has already been notified, I fear."
"Hey, how do you do that?" he asked, grinning as he picked up the phone.
"Do what?" she asked, not knowing what he meant.
"Never mind, it's ringing…" he said and suddenly, he was on the phone talking to a very distraught Mira.
He told her everything. She was angry at him, and then angry at Michael. But in all of the ranting and excitement in her voice and the pure anguish when she had answered, Rollie knew that she still loved Michael deeply. He told her that he was bringing the ring back and she told him to keep it. By the end of the conversation, she was back to the old Mira. She told him that there would be no new life for Michael, that she would never believe that he would free himself of what he had gotten into in the past five years.
Rollie finished the conversation with a "I don't know…" and hung up.
"What don't you know?" Angie asked, after hearing the conversation through Rollie's responses.
"When we are coming back, we do have a movie to finish- right?" he asked her.
"Right!" Angie said, perking up and liking his new resolve. He wasn't going to jump back on a plane and hold Mira's hand!
*************************************************************
Lucinda had gone back to her room and began washing her hands compulsively. Having touched the dead man's hand, she felt nervous and strangely affected. She turned on the lights in the bungalow as the sun had now set and started to turn on the shower. She would be meeting Syd after his meeting and going over the plans for the picture afterwards. She wanted to make a good impression for him, that she was still ready to go on and be his star, even with Roddy gone. She was already trying to guess who they would be getting to replace him. Hopefully, they wouldn't shut down production until an actor was found.
As she stepped into her shower, she smiled and let the water run over her head as her long hair draped her body. She began to shampoo and wash everything away- Ricardo Conte, the craziness at the Tomb, and Juan Tocha. No more Balsaque curse either! She finished her shower and reached for her towel.
She couldn't find it where she had left it, opened her eyes, smoothing back her hair from her eyes, and looked right into the smoldering, brown eyes of Michael Sanchez.
"Hello, my dear wife. I was wondering, actually- I must insist that you hand over the Avatar that you took from Juan Tocha."