Death on the Wind

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  Death

  On the

  Wind

  All rights reserved. © 2019 by Mercer Lake Publishing House, LLC

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

  Murder at the Mayan Temple, Book One

  Death on the Wind, Book Two

  Danger at the Dive Shop, Book Three

  Chaos in Cuba, Book Four

  Sabotage on Solitude Bay, Book Five

  A Scandal in Spain, Book Six

  Nightmare Under the Northern Lights, Book Seven

  Terror at the Turtle Sanctuary, Book Eight

  Death in Dubrovnik, Book Nine

  Mystery in Mérida, Book Ten

  Chapter One

  “The meaning of life is that it stops.”

  ― Franz Kafka

  Kitty Swift looked up from the page of her book and sighed with happiness. Just another incredible day on the beach. Talk about a blessed life.

  She set aside her book and wiggled her toes in the soft white sands of Cancun, admiring her new pedicure. She was more of a manicure girl, since she used her hands so much as she worked. Being a tour guide and translator for the hearing impaired on luxury cruises had to be the best occupation in the world. The job was more like a vacation, and the best part was being able to bring Chica, her service dog, on every assignment. Sitting in the sand and watching the bright turquoise waters wouldn’t be the same without her best friend beside her. Her life was simple, happy, and wide open to whatever adventures came her way.

  Well, to be honest, there were a few adventures she’d like to avoid, like murder investigations.

  She’d been on over a dozen cruises and only one involved murder, so it wasn’t likely to happen again. The logical part of her brain acknowledged that the odds were against it, but she’d been battling to blot out the memories ever since. Hence the pedicure. A little pampering was sure to dispel the visions of a body stiff with rigor mortis. Or so she hoped.

  It hadn’t been all bad, of course. For the first time in years, she’d allowed herself to rely on someone other than Chica. That someone was Leander Estornell, an attaché to the American embassy, and although they’d gotten off to a rough start, she now thought of him as her friend.

  It was a funny little side note that his name meant ‘Starling’ in Catalan. Starling and Swift. If she were the superstitious type, she’d think it was an omen. But she wasn’t, and so she didn’t.

  Kitty closed her eyes and focused on the soft rush of the waves against the sand. Of course, she wouldn’t mind if God someone brought them back together. A month ago she would have fought the idea tooth and nail, but God worked in mysterious ways. A near death experience had opened her up to the possibility that there might be more for her.

  It was nearly the middle of the tour and nothing bad had gone wrong, unless she counted Ralph and Judy Barney’s complaints about hard stateroom beds, cold showers, and scratchy towels. A luxury cruise ship didn’t have scratchy towels, cold showers, or hard beds, but she took their comments straight to the concierge anyway. He offered the middle aged couple the choice of a new room from the few suites they left available for such moments. They’d declined all the offers, declaring that they would just suffer through it. If only they would suffer more quietly. Kitty had a feeling the Barneys considered complaining a main part of their vacations.

  Penny and Elaine wandered into her field of vision, brightly colored caftans flowing in the breeze. Their black lab, Toto, was wearing an outfit, complete with a little straw hat. Catching her eye, the two elderly women both waved and headed toward Kitty.

  “Get out from under that umbrella,” Penny signed. “You need the sun.”

  “I have to be careful, as much time as I spend on the beach.” Kitty reflexively touched her nose. It was perpetually sunburned even though she was vigilant about using sunscreen. “Plus, Chica gets too hot without some shade.”

  “Toto loves the sun.” Elaine pointed at Toto, who was panting heavily.

  “Would she like a drink?” Kitty was already pouring some of her chilled water into a collapsible bowl that she carried with her for Chica.

  “Thank you, dear.” Penny lowered herself to the beach blanket and wiped her forehead. Toto rushed forward and lapped at the water, splashing Kitty’s toes with ice cold drops. “Have you heard from your man friend?”

  Man friend. Yikes.

  Kitty didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. Elaine and Penny had been on the last tour. It had made headlines around the world when one of their group had been stabbed in the heart on a Mayan altar used for ritualistic killings. Leander Estornell had worked with Kitty to solve the murder, and although they’d nearly died together, there certainly hadn’t been anything like what Elaine was implying. Maybe a little wishful thinking on Kitty’s part, but definitely nothing concrete. And maybe that’s the way she’d like it to stay. She still couldn’t make up her heart. It didn’t matter anyway. They lived cities apart.

  Elaine settled on Kitty’s other side. “That’s not what they call them now. They’re hook ups.”

  Kitty choked. “I don’t think that’s quite the term you mean to use. And there was no hooking up. None at all.”

  “Not even a little? How disappointing. You’re going to be a dried up old maid soon.”

  “Soon? I already am,” Kitty said, smiling. Penny and Elaine both liked to stir the pot, as they said. Kitty found their acerbic wit entertaining and didn’t take it too seriously.

  “So you haven’t heard from him at all?” Elaine asked, frowning.

  Kitty hesitated. She had, actually. He had sent her a police form she’d forgotten to sign, and when she sent it back, she’d included a little note. And then he’d sent a few lines in return. She’d smiled at the simple, but elegant handwriting on the small note card slipped into a cream-colored envelope. Everything about Leander was interesting. Maybe it was his Catalan culture or being raised in an immigrant European household, but he somehow reminded her of the men in her favorite classic novels.

  So, emboldened by his little note, she’d selected a sheet of handmade paper, filled the front and back, and sent it along in one her nicest embossed envelopes. She hadn’t heard anything since. She cringed, thinking about it. It was so like her, really. Someone showed her an ounce of courtesy and she responded with a pound of attention. Her mother said she had a soft heart. She was just socially awkward.

  “I have. But it was just business.” It had been, until it was she wrote a tome in response.

  “Well, if God wants it to happen, I’m sure we’ll see him again,” Elaine said.

  “Yes. Maybe he’ll show up this trip. Our prayers to God’s ears.” Penny nodded as if she was spending every night praying for Leander to return.

  “Since he’s sent out to help Americans who are under suspicion or arrest, I’d rather not,” Kitty said. The few hours she’d spent in a Mexican prison was quite enough, thank you.

  She poured Toto some more water and searched the beach for another topic. In the distance, she could see the distinctive figures of four young women in bikinis jogging their way. She felt a niggle of dread at the sight. She thought of them as ‘the four Heathers’, but that wasn’t exactly accurate. Heather Jousmal was the de facto leader and it was her bachelorette trip, but they all had matching wardrobes that complemented their suspiciously perky breasts and thin thighs. Heather, Lacy, Zoe, and Reagan were four blonde women with button noses, high cheekbones and pointy chins. If they hadn’t all varied in height and eye color, Kitty would have sworn they were related. As
it was, they were simply cast from the same upper class Boston Irish mold ,with a glaze of Beacon Hill and a heavy finishing of plastic surgery.

  “That woman was out of line when she spoke to you at dinner, but you need to watch those frowns. You’ll get wrinkles.” Penny pointed to Kitty’s forehead.

  “What? I’m not frowning.” She hurriedly adjusted her expression. Heather was just plain mean, and it only took a few hours in her presence for Kitty to enter into a permanent state of dislike. Last night she had said Chica was too large to be a good dog, that she was all teeth and tail and no personality.

  Like yourself, Kitty had wanted to say. God forgive her, Heather brought out the worst in her.

  Heather had a little Pomeranian that didn’t do much except bark, and was clearly untrained. It would have been unprofessional to respond, but any criticism of her highly trained dog rankled. Especially since Chica was almost paranormally attuned to her surroundings. She sometimes barked before the phone rang, had an unerring ability to sniff out rotten personalities, and was her personal lie detector.

  “I’m sure she didn’t mean what she said. Life’s too short to hold grudges.”

  “No, you just have to organize your time better,” Elaine said. “I believe in grudges. They help you survive.”

  Penny nodded, her wide brimmed straw hat bobbing. “Agreed. Our family holds grudges for generations. Helps us weed out the bad people. Someone said something to my grandma, and fifty years later I know to avoid the whole lot of them, all the way down to the great-grandchildren.”

  “Oh, not really,” Kitty said, laughing.

  “Really. You know, we put on the grudge glue so when we grab hold to the grudge, it bonds nice and tight,” Penny said.

  “Well, I don’t hold grudges. Jesus said to forgive.”

  Kitty tried her best not to think of the fiancé and best friend who had run away together the week of her wedding, but the images came anyway. The perfect wedding dress that would never be worn, the thousands of pictures taken with the woman who swore she would always have her back, and the bills.

  Oh, the bills.

  Flowers, photographer, reception site, caterer. It had taken her years to pay it all off by herself, and she didn’t even get to taste the baby rack of lamb barbequed over cedar wood chips and seasoned with fresh rosemary and roasted garlic.

  “Jesus was no fool,” Elaine said. “Plus, he’s up in heaven and we’re down here with these―”

  “Group members,” Kitty inserted hastily. “We’ve all get to get along. Focusing on the negative just sucks the joy out of life.”

  “I say focusing on the negative keeps your eyes open and your brain sharp.” Penny tapped her temple. “And I’m not saying we should be taking an eye for an eye―”

  “Or as Penny does, two eyes and an arm for an eye,” Elaine signed quickly.

  Penny gave her a withering look and Kitty couldn’t help snorting with laughter. She’d battled to forgive in her own life. Ten years later, she still felt cheated. Every year was easier, but she sometimes entertained the idea of ordering a catered meal with everything she’d picked out―and paid―for the reception dinner, just so she could have the satisfaction of finally having that delicious meal.

  “I forgive,” Penny said. “But I don’t forget. I’ll remember the kind of gum you were chewing when you did me wrong. And I’m telling you that those girls are the kind of people I keep at arm’s length. Nothing good can come from being around them.”

  “Well, it’s my job, so I’m going to think on the bright side of it all.” Kitty looked up nervously to see how close Heather and her friends were to them. One drawback to signing was that you couldn’t “whisper”. Even twenty feet away, deaf people could tell what you were saying, and turning your back to have a conversation looked awfully suspicious. “White sand, clear ocean water, virgin margarita, and good books.”

  “And Bingo,” Elaine said. “We know you have that little Bingo problem.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Kitty said. “I play a few games every day. Lots of people do.” Elaine was partly right. Heaven help her if Captain Tavish Edwards ever decided that unlimited Bingo was necessary for the ship to function correctly. If the ship had Bingo available twenty-four hours a day Kitty might be in trouble.

  “What are you reading?” Elaine asked, picking up the leather bound book from where Kitty had set it on the blanket. “Moby Dick? You said good books. This isn’t good. I’ll loan you something that will really hold your interest. I brought a whole carry-on of Jackie Collins.”

  “I haven’t finished it yet.” Kitty had read Moby Dick several times before, but she didn’t want to make waves by turning down Elaine’s bodice rippers. If she liked that kind of book, she’d have a store full of them, but as it was, her little shop in Mérida was lined with old, leather-bound classics. She missed it when she was working but it was safely in the hands of Nancy, her graduate student who also kept an eye on her two black cats, Rook and Raven.

  “And you won’t finish this anytime soon. It must be a thousand pages.” Penny pretended to heft it in one hand, “Nope. It’s a doorstop, not a book.”

  The jogging bikini-clad foursome were almost upon them and Kitty took the book from Penny, feeling suddenly protective. Maybe it was because Heather reminded her of a girl she’d known in middle school who once threw her homework in a puddle, but she tucked the book under her lounge chair.

  Heather slowed first, and the rest of her group followed suit, always just a few steps behind, like a royal entourage.

  “Hey,” she signed.

  Kitty waved back and was prepared for them all to continue on their way, but they walked over to her umbrella. Heather looked good, as always. She was almost inhumanly pretty, and never seemed to mind the humid Yucatan climate. Lacy was red in the face and seemed to have sweated off her sunscreen. Reagan started to do some stretching, sweat beading her chest and back. Zoe was gasping for air, doubled over, eyes closed.

  “Have anything to drink?” Heather asked.

  “I have some ice water.” Kitty looked for her travel bottle that she filled with ice and filtered water. Mexico was notorious for its undrinkable water and although the touristy areas were usually safe, she’d heard too many stories. Poor Zoe. She really didn’t look well. She was the thinnest and smallest of the bunch, and even after a week in the Yucatan, she was pasty white. Chica sat up and pointed at Zoe with her nose. This one needs help, she was saying.

  Heather took the bottle from her and unscrewed the cap. She brought it to her face, and then grimaced. “Did you already drink from this?”

  “Well, I… maybe. I gave some to Toto. She drank it from a dish.”

  “Never mind,” Heather said, handing it back. “I’ll just wait until we get back.”

  “To the ship?” Penny asked, her expression incredulous. Toto lifted her head and gave a matching quizzical look.

  “No, silly. To the bar over there.” She pointed about a half a mile down the beach. “Come on, girls.”

  “Zoe, you should sit in the shade for a minute,” Kitty said.

  “Okay, I think―” Zoe started to say.

  “No,” Heather interrupted. Her signing was sharp and fast. “We’ve got to run off that chocolate mousse, remember? You’re going to get fat.”

  Zoe stood there, undecided for a moment. She still hadn’t caught her breath. “I’ll catch up.”

  Reagan rolled her eyes. “You never pull through for us.”

  “Yeah, never,” Lacy said.

  “Come on, girls.” Heather didn’t give Zoe another look as they began to jog again, the dry sand flying up behind them and sprinkling their beach blanket. Chica made a whooooffff in her throat and Kitty couldn’t tell whether she wanted to run along beside them, or chase them like they were criminals.

  “Here, dear.” Penny stood up and motioned to where she’d been sitting in the shade. “We’ve got to get over there and get ourselves signed up for tomorrow’s paras
ailing.”

  “We sure do,” Elaine said. “Are you going to go, too?”

  Kitty could have sworn Zoe shuddered, but she signed, “Yes, of course. Heather wants us all to go.”

  Kitty realized that Zoe was deathly afraid of heights. Two days ago, they’d been walking along the top deck and Ralph had pointed out something far below. Zoe had taken a look, then stumbled back.

  “You know, you don’t have to do everything she says,” Penny said, helping Elaine stand up.

  “It’s her bachelorette party,” Zoe said. “We’re here to have fun.” Her expression was the opposite of a person having fun.

  Kitty waved as Penny, Elaine, and Toto walked down toward the water.

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Zoe had her eyes closed and her breathing was slowing down to soft gasps.

  Heather had bullied Zoe every day since the tour had started. Actually, she bullied everybody around her, or tried to. Kitty had thought it was a case of bridezilla-to-be, but maybe her obnoxious behavior went farther back.

  “You’ve known Heather a long time.”

  “Since sixth grade.” Zoe accepted the ice water and took a long drink. “I was the nerdy kid who didn’t have any friends and she brought me into her circle.” Brushing back her long hair, she lifted her chin. “I’d lost my hearing and hated going to a deaf boarding school. I thought my life was over. I wore black, wouldn’t do my homework, and refused to speak at all.” She shook her head, laughing. “I was a brat to everybody.”

  Kitty nodded. Some friendships had a reason. Heather had rescued Zoe when she’d needed it, but now that time had passed. The friendship was unequal, maybe because Zoe had grown up, or maybe because Heather had never grown past the sixth grade girl who got to boss people around. There had been something good there once, but now it was gone.

  “It was more than my attitude, though. I was the scholarship girl, so I got picked on.”

  It seemed like Zoe wasn’t doing much better now. “Did she tell them to stop picking on you?”