Tourists Go Home: Part Three

“Good. Come with me. Don’t touch anything. Is this where your apartment is?” Mariana gestured to the building behind them: a two-story, white concrete split-level, each level streaked by a row of tall, casement windows.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” asked Kristi.

Mariana shot her a level look. “Mariana Bench. I told you that.”

“No, I mean like, how are you … Why are you striding in here and acting like you’re a detective … on a detective show?”

Mariana sighed and looked past Kristi, past the rows of white concrete houses that stretched down to the lagoon; past the rainforest-covered hills in the distance, bluish green in the misty air; past the shy morning sun, gentle against the azure sky. Why was she here? She’d only moved to Floripa because of Tiago, but that was over now. Obviously, Brazil was incredible, but she had only followed this potential case because there was nothing, absolutely nothing, calling to her at the moment. Was this Timothy guy even worth her time? Or was she just stalling as she figured out her next move?

“I am a detective,” explained Mariana. “A freelance detective. I overheard y’all at that café down the street loudly saying that Timothy was missing and that you were worried. In English.”

“We didn’t think anyone there would understand,” said Kristi.

“You think Americans are the only people in the world who speak English?”

Kristi pursed her lips and prepared an indignant retort, but Mariana swiftly cut her off. “Anyway,” Mariana spat, “I figured I’d follow you and see if I should take on this case. I’m seeing Eras in Rio and I need some extra cash for pão de queijo. But before we talk payment” — she didn’t appear to notice that they hadn’t hired her — “I’m going to take Levi to Timothy’s room to look for clues while the rest of you stay outside.” She glared at Kristi. “Keep all living souls from entering this building. I don’t know how many people already saw your Live.” Suddenly, she smirked. “Also, you couldn’t think of one ‘detective show’ to illustrate your point? Law & Order? The Residence? Poker Face? Or even a movie? Knives Out? Murder on the Orient Express? All you could think of was ‘detective … on a detective show?’”

She turned and trotted toward Timothy’s apartment building without another word, leaving Kristi to wonder what The Residence was.

This is part of a larger, ongoing project, and I’m unable to publicly share the rest of the story. However, if I reach 100 paid subscribers by May 2027, then I promise that I will release the rest of the story. I mean, I highly doubt that will happen … but if it does, well, I’ve made a promise and have to stick to it, I guess!