PART 4 – THE WOMAN IN THE RED SUNGLASSES
“I know what Paulina gave your husband.”
Esteban Cruz stood outside my cabin.
“And your son was never supposed to survive this either,” he continued. “Neither were you—not on this cruise.”
I did not touch the lock.
Teresa stood beside me, gripping the back of a chair.
Her red sunglasses were no longer on her face.
For the first time since meeting her, she looked afraid.
“How did you find me?” I asked through the door.
“Rodrigo knew about the cruise.”
“That’s impossible.”
“He knew before you boarded.”
My stomach tightened.
I remembered his frightened voice that morning.
A year?
You left the country without telling your family?
Had it all been an act?
“Prove who you are,” I said.
Something slid beneath the door.
A business card.
ESTEBAN CRUZ
CRUZ MEDIA PRODUCTIONS
The name matched the witness on the forged documents.
On the back, someone had written a series of numbers in blue ink.
Armando’s life insurance policy number.
Only a small number of people knew it.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“To stay alive.”
“That is not my problem.”
“It will be when Paulina’s man reaches this cabin.”
Teresa moved toward the telephone.
“I’m calling security.”
“No!” Esteban shouted.
Her hand froze.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because one of the security officers is working for her.”
I looked at Teresa.
She shook her head slightly.
Do not open the door.
For once, I agreed with her.
“You expect me to trust you?” I asked. “Your signature appears on every document my son forged.”
“I signed them.”
The confession came without hesitation.
“I witnessed signatures that never happened. I created false dates. I helped Rodrigo move money through my company.”
“Then you belong in prison.”
“Yes.”
There was something unsettling about how calmly he said it.
No excuses.
No outrage.
Just acceptance.
“Why are you here?” I asked again.
A heavy sound struck the door.
At first, I thought Esteban had hit it.
Then he groaned.
“Mr. Cruz?” Teresa called.
“I need to come inside.”
“Are you injured?”
“Open the door and find out.”
I picked up my phone and called Lucía.
She answered immediately.
“Esteban Cruz is outside my cabin.”
“What?”
“He says someone on the ship is working for Paulina.”
“Do not open the door.”
“He claims he knows what she gave Armando.”
“I’m contacting the captain.”
Esteban knocked again, weaker this time.
“Mrs. Márquez,” he said, “look through the peephole.”
I approached cautiously.
Esteban stood with one hand pressed against his side.
Blood had soaked through his pale shirt.
He looked over his shoulder repeatedly.
The corridor behind him was empty.
“He’s bleeding,” I told Lucía.
“That does not mean he is safe.”
“I know.”
I left the phone connected and fastened the door chain.
Then I opened the door three inches.
Esteban’s face appeared in the narrow space.
He was in his late forties, with gray beginning at his temples and panic shining in his eyes.
“Show me your hands,” I ordered.
He lifted them.
One was covered in blood.
“What happened?”
“Someone followed me from the elevator.”
“Who?”
“A security officer.”
“Name?”
“I don’t know his real name.”
“Why would Paulina have someone on this ship?”
“Because you were supposed to have an accident tonight.”
Teresa inhaled sharply.
I felt the floor shift beneath me, although the ship was moving smoothly.
“What kind of accident?”
Esteban looked toward the end of the corridor.
“The kind that happens when an elderly widow drinks too much, becomes confused, and falls over a railing.”
My body turned cold.
“I barely drink.”
“The report had already been written.”
I stared at him.
“What report?”
“A witness statement saying you were depressed after your husband’s death. That you had been behaving irrationally. That you talked about joining Armando.”
“I never said any of that.”
“Truth was never important to them.”
My fingers tightened around the door.
“Who was supposed to witness this behavior?”
Esteban looked past me.
For one second, his eyes rested on Teresa.
Then he looked back at me.
“I don’t know.”
Teresa stepped closer.
“Close the door, Elena.”
Esteban’s knees weakened.
He caught himself against the wall.
“If you leave me outside, I will not survive long enough to tell you anything.”
Lucía’s voice came through my phone.
“Elena, the captain’s office is sending a senior security team. They should reach you shortly.”
“How shortly?”
“Minutes.”
Esteban laughed weakly.
“Minutes are generous when someone is trying to kill you.”
I studied his face.
He had helped steal from us.
He had helped Rodrigo forge Armando’s signature.
But someone had opened his side with a blade.
Fear can be performed.
Blood is more difficult.
I released the chain.
Teresa grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
“He may have evidence.”
“He may be the trap.”
“Then stand near the phone.”
I opened the door.
Esteban stumbled inside.
I locked it immediately.
He collapsed onto the carpet.
The wound was not deep enough to expose anything horrifying, but it was long and bleeding heavily.
My nursing instincts returned before my anger could stop them.
I grabbed towels from the bathroom and pressed them against his side.
“Hold this.”
He obeyed.
“You were a nurse,” he said.
“I still know how to let a man bleed, so answer carefully.”
Despite the pain, he almost smiled.
Teresa closed the curtains.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
“So nobody can see inside.”
“We are eight decks above the ocean.”
“Other cabins have balconies.”
She was right.
Still, something about her quick answer bothered me.
I turned back to Esteban.
“What did Paulina inject into Armando?”
He removed a small memory card from inside his belt.
“Everything is here.”
“What is on it?”
“Emails. Bank transfers. Copies of the insurance documents. A photograph of the bottle she carried into the hospital.”
“What was inside it?”
“A concentrated cardiac medication.”
“What kind?”
“She called it potassium.”
My hands stopped moving.
Esteban noticed.
“She said a large amount through the IV could stop his heart and resemble a fatal complication.”
The cabin seemed to lose all its air.
Armando’s final morning returned to me.
The alarm from the monitor.
The nurses rushing inside.
The doctor moving me away from the bed.
His voice telling me they were doing everything possible.
I had stood in that room believing death had taken my husband naturally.
But death may have walked through the door wearing Paulina’s face.
“Where did she get it?” I asked.
“From a private clinic where she used to work.”
“Paulina was a nurse?”
“For four years.”
“She told us she studied hospital administration.”
“She did—after losing her nursing license.”
“Why did she lose it?”
“Medication disappeared during her shifts.”
Teresa covered her mouth.
I looked at her.
“You seem surprised.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“Yes.”
But I had begun to notice that Teresa always knew exactly when to look surprised.
I turned back to Esteban.
“Did Rodrigo know she planned to kill Armando?”
“He knew she was going to sedate him.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Esteban lowered his eyes.
“Rodrigo wanted the documents signed. Paulina told him Armando would wake up the next morning.”
“And when he didn’t?”
“Rodrigo panicked.”
“Yet he still filed the forged paperwork.”
“Paulina convinced him that turning back would make them both look guilty.”
“They were guilty.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you witness the documents?”
His jaw tightened.
“My company was failing. Rodrigo offered me money.”
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“You helped steal six hundred thousand dollars for fifty?”
“At first, I believed Armando had agreed to everything.”
“And later?”
“Later, Paulina showed me photographs of my daughter.”
The anger inside me paused.
“What kind of photographs?”
“Outside her school. At the park. Sleeping in her bedroom.”
Teresa whispered something under her breath.
Esteban looked at her.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“I heard you.”
“I said she is a monster.”
His eyes stayed on Teresa for a moment too long.
Then he continued.
“Paulina told me that if I stopped cooperating, my daughter would disappear.”
“So you came onto this ship.”
“I came because she ordered me to.”
“To kill me?”
“To make sure you followed a routine.”
“What routine?”
“Dinner alone. Two glasses of wine. A walk on the upper deck shortly before midnight.”
“I never agreed to that.”
“You were supposed to be encouraged.”
“By whom?”
He looked toward Teresa again.
This time, she noticed.
“Why do you keep looking at me?” she demanded.
“Because I was told another passenger would gain Elena’s trust.”
Teresa stepped backward.
“That could be anyone.”
“Yes,” Esteban said.
“It is a ship carrying thousands of people.”
“Yes.”
“You met me only today.”
Esteban said nothing.
Teresa’s voice sharpened.
“Tell her.”
“Tell me what?” I asked.
He lowered his gaze.
“I was never given the passenger’s name.”
I watched Teresa carefully.
Her fear seemed genuine.
But so had Rodrigo’s surprise when I told him about the cruise.
I had spent too many years believing performances.
“How did Rodrigo know about my ticket?” I asked.
“You let him set up your phone two years ago.”
I remembered.
My banking application had stopped working.
Rodrigo offered to fix everything.
He spent nearly an hour with my phone and laptop.
“He installed remote-access software,” Esteban said. “He could see your emails, purchases, and travel confirmations.”
My skin crawled.
“He watched me buy the ticket?”
“Yes.”
“Why did he act surprised when I told him?”
“Because the call was being recorded.”
“By whom?”
“Paulina.”
“For what purpose?”
“To prove you were unstable and had abandoned your responsibilities.”
“The animals.”
Esteban nodded.
“They were part of it.”
Rodrigo and Paulina had not left the animals because they believed I would obey.
They had left them to create evidence.
If I stayed, my cruise would be canceled.
If I left, they would claim I had abandoned helpless animals without warning.
Either choice served them.
“They expected the house to be empty,” Esteban continued. “Paulina planned to move several boxes into it while you were away.”
“What boxes?”
“Financial records from Rodrigo’s company. Medication bottles. Copies of your signature.”
“They were going to hide evidence in my home.”
“Not hide it.”
His expression changed.
“Plant it.”
I understood.
“If the police investigated Armando’s death…”
“They would discover stolen medication and forged paperwork inside your house.”
“And I had left the country immediately after his funeral.”
“You would look guilty.”
My mouth became dry.
“They planned to blame me for killing my own husband.”
“Yes.”
Teresa sat slowly on the edge of the bed.
“But why kill Elena on the cruise if they planned to frame her?”
Esteban looked at her.
“Because dead people cannot defend themselves.”
A knock sounded at the cabin door.
All four of us froze.
“Ship security,” a man announced.
It was the same voice I had heard earlier.
The officer who had come to confirm my safety.
Esteban moved backward until his shoulders struck the wall.
“That’s him.”
“Are you certain?” I whispered.
“He attacked me near the service stairs.”
The officer knocked again.
“Mrs. Márquez, please open the door.”
I picked up my phone.
Lucía was still connected.
“Is this the team the captain sent?”
“No,” she said. “They have not reached your deck.”
The door handle moved.
The officer had a master key.
“Elena,” Teresa whispered, “block the door.”
I pushed the small table against it.
The handle turned again.
“Mrs. Márquez,” the officer called. “We have received a report that you are holding an injured passenger against his will.”
Esteban laughed bitterly.
“He works quickly.”
The lock clicked.
The door opened one inch before striking the table.
“Move away from the door,” the officer ordered.
I did not.
“Senior security is coming,” I shouted. “You can speak to them.”
“I am senior security.”
“No. You are not.”
Silence followed.
Then the door slammed against the table.
Once.
Twice.
The legs scraped across the carpet.
Teresa grabbed a heavy lamp.
Esteban struggled to stand.
“Bathroom,” I told him.
“I’m not hiding.”
“You are bleeding.”
“He will kill all of us if he enters.”
The door struck the table again.
The gap widened.
I saw part of the officer’s face.
The calm expression was gone.
His teeth were clenched.
His uniform badge read MARTÍNEZ.
Esteban pointed.
“That’s not his name. His real name is Omar Salgado.”
The officer stopped pushing.
“You should have stayed quiet, Esteban,” he said through the gap.
“And you should have finished the job.”
“Move the table, Mrs. Márquez.”
“No.”
“Your son has reported that you are suffering a mental-health crisis.”
“My son is wanted by the police.”
“He is concerned about you.”
“My son is concerned about money.”
Omar’s hand appeared through the opening.
He held a small black device.
At first, I thought it was a weapon.
Then a sharp chemical smell entered the cabin.
Esteban’s eyes widened.
“Move back!”
White vapor sprayed through the gap.
Teresa began coughing.
My eyes burned.
Esteban grabbed the curtains and pulled them down, throwing the fabric over the opening.
I dragged Teresa toward the balcony.
“Open it!” he shouted.
I unlocked the glass door.
Ocean wind exploded into the cabin.
The vapor began drifting outside.
The officer pushed again.
The table moved several inches.
Through my tears, I saw a red emergency button beside the bed.
I struck it with my palm.
An alarm sounded.
The cabin telephone lit up.
A voice asked about the emergency.
“Someone is forcing entry into my room!” I shouted. “Deck eight, cabin 8142!”
The door burst open.
Omar stepped inside wearing a small mask over his nose and mouth.
Esteban charged at him.
The two men crashed into the wall.
Omar struck Esteban’s wound.
He collapsed with a cry.
Teresa swung the lamp.
It shattered against Omar’s shoulder.
He turned toward her.
The mask slipped from his face.
I picked up the metal ice bucket and hit him as hard as I could.
Forty years of frustration traveled through my arm.
The bucket connected with the side of his head.
He stumbled.
Teresa hit him again with the broken lamp base.
“Useless old women!” she shouted.
Under different circumstances, I would have laughed.
Omar recovered quickly.
He reached inside his jacket.
Before he could remove whatever was hidden there, several uniformed officers rushed through the doorway.
“Hands where we can see them!”
Omar froze.
The senior officer forced him onto the floor.
Another security guard kicked away a small knife that had fallen from his jacket.
Medical workers entered behind them.
The cabin filled with commands, questions, blood, broken glass, and ocean wind.
I stood near the balcony, unable to stop shaking.
A female officer approached me.
“Mrs. Márquez, are you injured?”
“No.”
“Did this man attack you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know him?”
“No.”
Omar turned his head toward me from the floor.
“Ask your friend,” he said.
The officer pushed his face back against the carpet.
“What did he mean?” I asked.
Omar laughed.
“The woman in red.”
Everyone looked at Teresa.
Her face became pale.
“He is trying to confuse you,” she said.
The female officer searched Omar’s jacket.
She removed two small bottles, a syringe, a folded copy of my cruise itinerary, and a photograph.
She handed the photograph to her superior.
He looked at it.
Then he looked at Teresa.
“What is it?” I demanded.
The superior officer turned the photograph toward me.
It showed Teresa sitting in a café.
Across from her sat Paulina.
The date printed in the corner was six days earlier.
Four days before Armando’s funeral.
Two days before I boarded the ship.
I looked at Teresa.
She shook her head.
“Elena, I can explain.”
“You told me you had never met my family.”
“I hadn’t met Rodrigo.”
“That is not what I said.”
“Elena—”
“Why were you with Paulina?”
The officers moved between us.
Teresa’s eyes filled with tears.
“She contacted me through a travel group.”
“That does not explain the photograph.”
“She said you were recently widowed. She wanted someone to watch over you.”
“Watch over me?”
“I thought she was worried.”
“You told me your daughters believed you were at a religious retreat.”
“They do.”
“You knew which studio was in Rodrigo’s video.”
“I recognized the sign.”
“You knew to close my curtains.”
“Because someone was hunting us!”
“You knew exactly when to appear beside me this morning.”
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Esteban was lifted onto a stretcher.
Before the medical team carried him away, he reached for my arm.
“She isn’t the one who was supposed to push you,” he whispered.
I looked at Teresa.
Relief almost entered her face.
Then Esteban finished.
“She was supposed to drug your drink.”
Teresa’s relief disappeared.
“No,” she said. “That is not true.”
The officers searched her handbag.
Inside, they found her passport, money, lipstick, and a small silver packet containing two white tablets.
“I have trouble sleeping,” Teresa said quickly.
The female officer sealed the tablets inside an evidence bag.
“They will be tested.”
“They are prescription medication.”
“Where is the container with your name?”
“I transferred them into the packet.”
I stared at the woman who had eaten lunch with me.
The woman who had made me laugh.
The woman who had stayed beside me while I discovered my husband may have been murdered.
“Were you supposed to put those in my wine?” I asked.
“No.”
“Look at me.”
She did.
Her eyes were wet.
“Were you supposed to drug me?”
“I was supposed to keep you calm.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Paulina told me you were confused. She said you had threatened to hurt yourself.”
“She lied.”
“I know that now.”
“When did you realize?”
Teresa looked toward Esteban.
“When he told us about the planted evidence.”
“Not when Paulina asked you to follow a grieving widow onto a ship?”
“I needed the money.”
The words cut deeper than I expected.
Everyone needed money.
Rodrigo needed money.
Esteban needed money.
Teresa needed money.
Apparently, money was the cleanest excuse for destroying me.
“How much?” I asked.
“Ten thousand dollars.”
I laughed.
It sounded broken.
“Esteban helped steal six hundred thousand for fifty. You sold me for ten.”
“I did not know they planned to kill you.”
“But you knew they wanted you to deceive me.”
“Yes.”
“You knew they wanted access to my cabin.”
Her silence answered.
The officers placed Teresa’s belongings into evidence bags.
She did not resist when they escorted her toward the door.
“Elena,” she said, “I really did begin to care about you.”
“That is the worst part.”
She stopped.
“You were not supposed to leave the restaurant this afternoon,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“I was told to keep you there until someone entered your cabin.”
“To do what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop lying.”
“I swear.”
“What were they looking for?”
Her gaze moved toward my handbag.
“The second blue envelope.”
I touched the bag instinctively.
The envelope was still inside.
I had carried it from the house but had never opened it.
Rodrigo knew about the first blue envelope on my pillow.
He knew about the cruise letter.
But this envelope was different.
Armando had hidden it beneath his ties with my passport and ticket.
I had assumed it contained old banking papers.
In all the chaos, I had forgotten about it.
Omar raised his head from the floor.
His eyes fixed on my handbag.
“The envelope belongs to Paulina,” he said.
“No,” I replied. “It was hidden in my husband’s drawer.”
“Exactly.”
The officers took him away.
The cabin slowly emptied.
Broken glass covered the carpet.
The table lay on its side.
The curtains hung from one hook.
My chocolate dessert from lunch felt as though it belonged to another life.
The senior officer remained with me while I called Lucía.
I told her everything.
“Do not open the envelope,” she said.
“Everyone keeps telling me not to open things.”
“It may contain evidence.”
“It may contain the reason someone tried to enter my cabin.”
“Let security document it first.”
The officer photographed the envelope from every angle.
Then he placed it on the table.
It was thick.
My name appeared on the front in Armando’s handwriting.
ELENA—ONLY OPEN THIS WHEN YOU ARE FAR FROM HOME.
I stared at the words.
Armando had known about the cruise.
The realization struck me slowly.
I had told nobody.
But my husband had known.
“How?” I whispered.
Lucía heard me.
“How what?”
“How did Armando know I would be far from home?”
The officer put on gloves and carefully opened the envelope.
Inside was a small brass key, a bank deposit receipt, and a letter.
He unfolded the letter and placed it before me.
My hands trembled as I read.
Elena,
If you are reading this, then you escaped before Rodrigo could stop you.
Forgive me for allowing you to believe I did not know about your cruise.
I found the ticket while searching for documents Rodrigo had hidden on your computer.
I was not angry.
I was proud of you.
For once, you had chosen yourself.
I began to cry.
Not quietly.
Not politely.
I cried the way I had not allowed myself to cry at the funeral.
Armando had known.
He had seen me planning a life without him.
And he had not punished me for it.
He had protected it.
I continued reading.
The key opens a private box at Banco del Pacífico in Cartagena.
Inside, you will find the original insurance policy, copies of Rodrigo’s transfers, and proof of what Paulina did before she entered our family.
Do not trust anyone who approaches you on the ship.
Not even Lucía.
My tears stopped.
I read the final line again.
Not even Lucía.
My attorney’s voice came through the phone.
“Elena?”
I looked at the screen.
Lucía was still connected.
“Elena, what does the letter say?”
I could not answer.
The senior officer noticed my expression.
“What is wrong?”
I turned the page over.
There was one final sentence written on the back.
Lucía Herrera is not your attorney.
She is Paulina’s older sister.
Through the phone, Lucía spoke again.
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Elena, please read the letter aloud.”
Then the cabin lights went out……………..
TO BE CONTINUED IN LAST PART…
