Page 49 of Wild Escape

"Just curious.”

"I was at home with my family. Where else would I be?”

I motioned to his kids. "And those two?”

He nodded. "Yes, they both live at home with me.”

"Can you verify their whereabouts at the time?”

“At the time of what?”

“Were they with you all night last night?”

Martinez shrugged. "They were there when I went to sleep."

"Have you seen anything unusual around the Caldwell residence recently?”

"What do you mean by unusual?”

"There was a break in. Items of value were taken."

Martinez didn't like where this was going. "And you think I had something to do with that?"

"No. Of course not,” I said. “I'm speaking to everybody who works for the Caldwells. Anyone who's had access to the house."

"I just mow the lawn with my son and daughter. I don’t have access to the house. We don't go inside. I've never been inside the Caldwell residence.”

“I’ll need to speak with your children for a moment.”

Martinez didn't like it, but he called his kids. They cut the engines and approached with wary eyes. Mr. Martinez made introductions. "This is Antonio and Esmeralda," he said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," I replied.

I asked them the standard questions. Both told me they were at home with their father last night. They all lived together in a small apartment on the edge of Jamaica Village.

It wasn't the greatest part of town.

Neither of the kids recalled seeing anyone suspicious around the Caldwell property.

I gave them all cards and told them to get in touch if they remembered anything helpful.

“Mr. Caldwell has always been kind and generous to me. I would never think of doing anything to cause that family harm. Neither would my children. They've been assisting me since they were young. The Caldwell family has been a blessing to us. Introduced us to numerous clients.”

Martinez seemed genuine, and I didn't think he had any involvement. I couldn't say the same for his children. Physically, they matched the description. But neither seemed overly nervous or unsettled by my questions. Nobody likes getting grilled by the cops. Though some criminals have mastered the art of appearing calm.

"I'll call Mr. Caldwell and talk to him," Mr. Martinez said.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Caldwell is in the hospital. He was shot last night.”

They all looked at me with wide eyes and slack jaws.

Martinez made the sign of the cross. “Is he going to be okay?” Martinez asked.

“I don’t know.”

He had questions, and I gave him limited details.

I thanked him for his cooperation, shook hands, and we walked back to the Porsche.