Death on the Wind

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  Chica only did that when she was worried about something. “I know. I feel nervous, too,” she said.

  Stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the spray of the hot water and tried not to think anymore. She set the shower head to a massage setting and stood there, forcing herself to let the anxiety go. It wasn’t her business what Heather and her minions did, or how they managed their friendship. Not her friends, not her problems. In a few days, they’d all be back in Miami and Kitty would be headed back to Mérida for a short break before her next cruise assignment. Rook and Raven would give her the cold shoulder for a few days, and then they’d fight for lap space while she read in her favorite overstuffed chair.

  She turned and the hot water beat against the tense muscles in her shoulders. Everything would be fine. A year from now, she wouldn’t even remember all the details. More than a dozen cruises under her belt and they all started to blend together.

  Except for the last one.

  She wished she could talk to Leander. As much as she liked Penny and Elaine, she needed a friend, someone who would tell her she was being ridiculous. He would say it was nothing to worry about, that it was harmless tension. She tried her best to imagine his eyes, one bright blue and one green. What she really remembered was his smile. He wasn’t the smiling type, but when he did, she couldn’t help smiling back. He always seemed as if he was offering a secret, something amusing just for the two of them.

  Leander would tell her that everyone just needed time apart and that vacationing with strangers was stressful. But tomorrow’s parasailing would throw them all back together in a small group. They’d be crammed into a tour bus and then waiting together on the beach with the parasailing company. Three could take the trip at a time, but that still left everyone else sitting around in the shade, sipping drinks and getting on each other’s nerves.

  A quarter of an hour later, Kitty stepped out of the shower. She was scrubbed clean and smelled like her favorite body wash, but there was still a hard stone of dread in the pit of her stomach. She opened the bathroom door and found Chica sitting in front of it.

  Odd. Did she think Kitty was going to drown in the shower?

  Sitting on the bed, Kitty watched Chica pad over and set her chin on Kitty’s knees. “Did you hear I’m going out? Are you sad to be left behind?”

  Kitty had left Chica in the cabin many times before. She was perfectly content to hang out on her doggy bed and take a nap. Now, it seemed as if Chica was scared that something was going to happen to Kitty.

  A shiver went down her spine. Chica’s uncanny abilities were undisputed. Whether it was instinct or small changes that Kitty didn’t pick up on, Chica sensed what Kitty couldn’t, and would try to alert her. She was doing it now, in the only way she knew.

  Swallowing back her fear, Kitty sat up straight. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go dancing with Jorge.”

  Chica didn’t lift her head, but she looked up at Kitty, a low noise sounding in her throat. Her expression was clear.

  Be careful. Danger is in the air.

  Chapter Four

  “Live or die, but don't poison everything.”

  ― Anne Sexton

  “You don’t like the music?” Jorge asked. They were standing in the shade of a thatched roof, the bar behind them empty except for the servers waiting to greet customers.

  “I did. It’s definitely the kind of music to dance to when you don’t want to think about steps.”

  “Then why did you leave so early?” Jorge pushed out his bottom lip in an expression that made her want to laugh. She knew she should be taking him seriously, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was the age gap. He was fun, attentive, handsome… and made her want to bake him cookies. But the thought of kissing Jorge was like kissing her cousin. Just no.

  “I had to get up early to bring everyone over here.” She waved a hand toward the little shack where the tour group was watching a safety video. “I couldn’t be stumbling around bleary-eyed when they’re asking questions.”

  “Berry eyes?” he asked. Jorge’s English only went so far.

  Kitty rubbed her eyes in an exaggerated way. “Tired.”

  “Ah. You are too pretty. Don’t worry about your eyes.”

  She smiled. It was nice to hear the compliment, but she was sure that her eyes got dark circles and looked just as puffy as anyone else’s.

  “You should relax, too. Not just work, work, work.”

  “I agree. That’s why I read.” She smiled at him to take the sting out of the words. She never wanted to be one of those bookish people that looked down on non-readers. Everyone found entertainment in their own way. She didn’t really understand people who didn’t like to read, but that didn’t mean they weren’t as smart or interesting.

  “Ah, sí. Tus libros grandes.” He mimed picking up a boulder.

  Kitty laughed. She didn’t have to ask what he meant. There was a reason she was in high demand, and it wasn’t because she was a hearing person who interpreted for the deaf community. Fluency in Spanish gave her a leg up when it came to her resume, and she’d always had more tour offers than she could take. “Not always. Some are quite small. Like ‘Pride and Prejudice’. It’s really not a very long work and yet…”

  His eyes went wide. “Sí, sí! Jane Austen!”

  Kitty felt a jolt of surprise. “You’re an Austen fan?”

  “Colin Firth! Matthew Macfadyen! Kiera Knightley!” He nodded emphatically.

  Kitty didn’t think it was the right time to debate whether the Kiera film should be put in the same sentence with the BBC masterpiece, or whether the films could be counted as good representations of Austen’s work. People were full of surprises.

  Chica sat up and looked to their left. The tour group was standing and stretching. Kitty could see the Heathers huddled in a small group. They seemed to be arguing about something. She wondered who was going to go first, and if Zoe was going to ever tell Heather she was afraid of heights. She couldn’t see how Zoe’s friendship with Heather could trump her phobia, unless she was more afraid of Heather than of heights.

  “Looks like they’re done,” she said.

  “I’ll check the signatures,” Jorge said, headed to the hut. Insurance waivers were part of any activity organized on the mainland, but Kitty didn’t want to think too deeply about it. If anything went wrong, it wouldn’t be medical bills that needed to be paid. It would be family members who would sue for emotional distress.

  She glanced out at the bright turquoise sea and shivered.

  It was warm in the water, and maybe if a person was dropped into the ocean from a few feet, they would be perfectly fine until they were rescued by one of the jet-ski-riding lifeguards. But she’d seen the parasailers high, high in the air and there was no surviving a drop from that height. It didn’t matter what temperature the water was, or even that it was water and not concrete. At that height, it might as well be.

  She shook off the disturbing thoughts and breathed in the salty ocean breeze. Lord, help us all get along. Keep everybody safe. It was a beautiful day, and everything was going to be just fine. This afternoon there would be Bingo, and then she’d catch a nap before dinner. It was going to be another perfect day in her dream job.

  Chica made a low sound in her throat. She was looking toward the parasailing crew. Five men were working to unroll the gear and perform last minute checks on the harnesses. Kitty recognized one as Señor Fernando, the head of the crew and the most experienced of the boaters. He and his brother-in-law had gone into business ten years ago with one small boat. The way Señor Fernando told the story, it seems they should all be grateful there weren’t any fatal accidents. They had made their own harnesses and tow lines, giving tourists cheap thrills with no insurance coverage required. The recent industry regulations would have put them out of business, but Señor Fernando had made it a priority to replace his do-it-yourself styled equipment with the best in safety gear as soon as he’d been able. Now they were one of the
most respected companies in Cancun.

  Kitty frowned.

  Five men.

  There should be six. Three to drive the boats, and three to act as tandem parasailers. She looked around, hoping one was late. If the group had to go two at a time, it would take a lot longer. Heather would be in high dudgeon and they would all take the brunt of her displeasure. But more importantly, she’d miss her afternoon Bingo game.

  A young man in a red T-shirt jogged toward the parasailing crew. He dodged the crowds of tourists and stopped, introducing himself. He pointed toward the tour group and handed Señor Fernando some papers. The older man looked the papers over and nodded, motioning to him to take a spot near the equipment.

  Kitty breathed a sigh of relief. “Back on track,” she whispered, rubbing Chica’s ears. Her dog didn’t move. She was watching the crew scuttle around, unrolling and rerolling lengths of woven, thick canvas webbing. The lifejackets were stacked beside three brightly colored parasailing bars that could hold two people at a time.

  She felt a touch on her shoulder. Kitty turned to see Juan Rubio, sunscreen already applied and a GoPro camera strapped to his head. “Hey there,” he signed.

  “Hi, Juan.” Kitty peered behind him. “Anne still has time to change her mind and have a ride.”

  “She’s happy playing with the kids while I go. They’re up the beach a ways with my relatives. They’re all set up with chairs and umbrellas in a good spot to watch me.”

  “I didn’t know you were from around here,” Kitty said.

  “Not far. And when I say relatives, I mean distant relatives. Most of my close family is in Florida, but I’ve got a lot of cousins here.” He made sure no one was looking at them and then signed. “Anne said she was going to kill someone if they made any more rude remarks about the kids, so she’s removed herself from temptation.”

  “Wise.” Not to be rude, but if Kitty could avoid the Heathers too, she would. She’d never felt so uncomfortable around any of her tour participants.

  “I think she’ll take a few pictures, too, because of course I won’t be able to see myself with this.” He tapped his camera.

  “Does it have a pretty good zoom?”

  “Oh, yeah. And you can edit later to cut out shaking or blurry shots.”

  “It would be fun to watch all together, if you don’t mind sharing. You could get some footage of whoever goes up at the same time”

  “I’d love to,” he signed. “I’m an insurance agent, but I’ve always wanted to be a camera man. I even took some classes in college.” He bounced on his toes, clearly excited to begin.

  Penny and Elaine wandered over and spread a little blanket on the ground for Toto before settling at the bar stools.

  “Oh, to be twenty years younger and have my original knees,” Penny said, staring at the crew.

  “But this way, you’ll die comfortably, in your own bed.” Elaine waved at the bartender and pointed toward the strawberry margarita mix.

  “I’d rather go out in a blaze of glory. God made me for an exciting life.”

  “I don’t think falling into the ocean, screaming all the way is really a ‘blaze of glory’, but you know I’m just the boring one,” Elaine said.

  “Nobody’s going to die,” Kitty said hastily. Juan was looking pale.

  He touched the GoPro attached to his head. “That would make a bad video.”

  “I agree,” Penny said. “But I can’t wait to see what you film up there. It’s going to be fabulous. Just gorgeous. So, I’ll live vicariously through you young people.”

  Juan seemed to take courage from Penny’s enthusiasm.

  “Right.” He swallowed hard and walked up to the bar. As soon as Elaine was served, he pointed at the tequila. Kitty didn’t translate for her group unless they asked. Some people found it awkward, some didn’t like being known as deaf unless they could help it. She watched him knock back the shot of tequila, shudder at the aftertaste, and stride off toward the crew.

  “You’re going to scare everyone off,” Kitty said.

  “Not a chance. Well, maybe just the weak ones. I’m sure Heather will still make her friends go.” Penny winked.

  Ralph trudged out of the small building, Judy following along behind. She had a worried expression on her face, but Ralph looked determined.

  “Is it a midlife crisis, do you think?” Elaine asked, not even bothering to hide her signing.

  “Maybe. More likely he has something to prove. He doesn’t look excited at all. Probably took a bet. Or maybe his kids put him up to it,” Penny said.

  Kitty tried to turn the conversation before Ralph and Judy arrived. “They had some tough breaks. I think it’s great. Taking charge.”

  “By parasailing?” Elaine asked.

  “Sure. It’s a little dangerous, not for the timid, definitely makes you rethink your priorities.” Kitty was perfectly content with her priorities, so she was going to avoid any dangerous activities. Heaven knew what she would discover as she floated eight hundred feet above the water. Last year Señor Fernando had told her that it was equivalent to thirty-eight stories. No, thank you. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but putting your existence at the mercy of some canvas straps and a bunch of silk fabric didn’t seem very smart. Maybe it was a physics thing, and if she understood it scientifically, it would all make sense. But as far as she knew, there was no magic explanation that would convince her it was a good idea.

  The Heathers walked out of the little building and marched toward them. Kitty had the sudden image of a slow-mo movie scene where the heroic band of soldiers advanced on enemy lines. They were all dressed in matching pink tank tops and black shorts, but each had a different slogan on the front of their shirt. Heather’s said ‘Fairest Bride of Them ALL’. Zoe, Reagan and Lacy’s shirts read ‘Moody’, ‘Drunky’ and ‘Spacey’ respectively. Kitty had little doubt that Heather had ordered the shirts as a surprise for her friends.

  Not a one of them was smiling, not even the dog. Lacy had gotten stuck holding Tink, and the little dog looked angry even from where Kitty stood.

  Zoe had her hand on Duke’s collar and her face was set with grim determination. Kitty wondered if she was one of those people who would volunteer to go first, just to get it out of the way, or whether she would put it off as long as possible.

  Her question was answered in the next moment when Heather said, “I’m going first. Then Reagan, Lacy, and Zoe. But I have to go first so they can watch me without being distracted.”

  “Sure, we can arrange that,” Kitty said. She glanced at Juan. “He’s got a GoPro and has offered to record some of the sailing, if he can.”

  “Great. Just don’t waste a lot of time on the water. It all looks the same.”

  Juan managed a smile. “I’ll try to remember that.” He waved at the bartender for another shot of tequila. Kitty wondered if the movie was going to be better or worse with a few shots in him.

  “Wouldn’t it be great if you could take Tink?” Zoe said.

  Heather’s eyes lit up. “I should!”

  “No, I don’t think―” Kitty started to say.

  “Don’t be stupid.” Lacy clutched Tink to her chest. “They can’t allow dogs.”

  “They have to. It’s the law,” Heather said, reaching for Tink.

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Reagan chimed in, rolling her eyes. “Tink would bite your hand off if you took her up there. She doesn’t even like you when you’re on the ground.”

  There was a shocked moment where nobody moved. Kitty inwardly cringed. She’d known this was coming. The big blow-up. The rest of the week loomed ahead in her imagination, filled with futile efforts at keeping friends-now-enemies away from each other.

  “Like you know her better than I do?” Heather’s eyes had narrowed. “Sometimes you think you know someone close to you, and you really don’t. Sometimes they aren’t what you thought they were at all.”

  Kitty looked from Heather to Zoe to Lacy. She hadn’
t just made a reference to the boyfriend that she’d stolen from Reagan, had she?

  “You’re right.” Reagan smiled suddenly. “Of course you’re right.”

  Lacy stroked Tink’s little head, then jerked her hand back when she bared her tiny teeth.

  “I’ll go up with them,” Ralph said, stepping up to their group.

  Kitty waved at Señor Fernando as he approached them from where the crew was working. “How are we doing?” she asked in Spanish. She felt like she hadn’t spoken with many locals much this tour and wished she could have a little more time. If she didn’t use it, she’d lose it.

  “All ready.” He nodded at the group. “You’ve already decided who is going first?”

  “Yes,” Kitty said. She waved Heather, Ralph, and Juan forward. “These three.”

  “Bueno. Vamanos.” Señor Fernando was a man of few words, which Kitty appreciated at the moment. Standing around with Heather and her frenemies was going to give her an ulcer.

  As Heather, Juan, and Ralph walked away toward the dock where the boats were moored, she glanced at Reagan. Maybe she had finally had enough. Maybe those ridiculous shirts were the final straw. It seemed like Reagan had been honest with Heather for the first time. It hadn’t gone well, but maybe it was only the start.

  “I’m going to find a place to sit,” Kitty said, pointing at the rows of lounge chairs with bright blue umbrellas. She half expected Reagan, Zoe and Lacy to follow her over, and was relieved when they all settled a few feet away. A twinge of guilt went through her but she squashed it down. It would have been awful for Chica to deal with Duke and Tink together. At least this way they could all keep their drama at a distance.

  “Sit,” she said, motioning for Chica to lay in the shade.

  Instead, Chica sat up tall, ears high, gaze unblinking. She watched Ralph, Juan, and Heather meet up with the parasailing crew and walk together toward the pier.

  “Relax. Everything is going to be fine,” Kitty said, again telling her to lie down.

  Chica slowly lowered herself to the blanket but didn’t take her eyes off the group. Kitty squinted, trying to see what Chica found so interesting. The beach was dotted with tourists, but not as many as would be there in a few hours.