Carola stepped up to the reception desk and started checking in for them. A few minutes later she asked the others for their passports and gave them to the reception clerk. She spoke with the clerk, and Kelly and Mike noticed that Jack was grimacing.
“What's wrong?” Mike asked.
“Hate to tell you this, but the van is coming to the hotel tomorrow morning to pick us up at 4:00 a.m. Sorry, but there are very few planes that fly to Cayo Largo. We'll sleep when we get there. Here's your room information. Go on up and get settled. Let's meet at the rooftop restaurant in an hour, have one of their special rum drinks called a mojito, get something to eat, and then call it a night. The receptionist said the view from the rooftop at sunset is spectacular. As long as we're here we might as well try it. By the way, since this is my first trip to Cuba, and its sort of an exploratory trip, my feeling is if someone really recommends something, we need to try it. That way I can decide if it's important enough to do for future clients. I’m going to write several articles for fishing magazines, and I can use the information I gather plus any photographs I take in them.”
CHAPTER 2
Mike inserted the keycard for room 440 in the lock and stepped inside the room. Kelly followed him and exclaimed, “Mike, I have no idea what this cost, but it’s incredible. I mean, look at the mahogany furniture in the living room. I can't believe we have a living room with a half-bath off of it, and look, here's another room with a big screen TV, a table for doing business...” Kelly stopped mid-sentence as she walked into the bedroom. “I have never stayed in a room this elegant, and look at this master bathroom. It has everything you'd ever need if you forgot to bring something.”
“I wonder what the nightly rate is on something like this, and Kelly, this is not a room, this is a suite. The company who's looking at becoming partners with Jack arranged for everything. I just paid a flat amount for the two of us to come on the trip, but I agree, this is beyond any hotel room I've ever seen. I really feel like I've stepped back a century or more. And did you see that sweeping staircase when we walked into the lobby? I felt like I was Rhett Butler and you were Scarlett O'Hara. Let's do a little unpacking and then go meet Jack and Carola at the restaurant up on the rooftop.
“By the way, from now on I'd feel better if you wore your money belt. I'm putting mine on. It’s one thing to hold the carry-ons we had when we were on the plane and last night, but there's no reason to carry all that stuff around with us. What with the cameras, the iPads, the iPhones, and all the other paraphernalia we have in our bags, they're way too heavy. Just put your passport, your credit cards, and your money in your money belt, and we’ll leave everything else here.”
“Mike, this is only the second time I've been out of the United States, but I've got to tell you how safe I feel with you,” she said to the big burly greying middle-aged man. “I mean, I know I'm fairly tall for a woman, and certainly not a lightweight, but one look at you and with the air of authority you carry, no one is going to try and mess with either of us.”
“Appreciate your confidence, sweetheart, but don't think that has much to do with it. I'm always concerned in large urban cities. They tend to attract people who would love to charm a beautiful dark-haired woman like you, and as trusting as you are, you'd probably believe what they said only to find out later the person had taken your passport, money or whatever. I heard a horror story once about a guy whose wife was in a wheelchair. He was maneuvering his wife in her wheelchair down a steel ramp in an airport when a man walked by, reached into his pocket, took his wallet, and then said thanks as he walked away. The guy couldn’t let go of the wheelchair because his wife would have been injured.”
“That's horrible! I did take your advice, and I left my jewelry at home. I’m not even wearing my wedding ring. For all anyone knows, we're just two people who met and decided to spend the night together.”
“Well, it might make the next few days very interesting if we pretend were like two strangers meeting in the night,” Mike said with a grin. “I kind of like the idea. Well, beautiful lady I've just met, would you join me on the rooftop for the drink your daughter said we had to try in Cuba, a mojito? And don’t forget she wants us to text her a picture of it.”
“It would be a pleasure and who knows, I might even get to like you enough that you just might get lucky tonight.”
“Yeah, as tired as both of us are, in my dreams,” he said, holding the door open for her.
*****
They stepped out of the elevator and walked over to the table where Jack and Carola were sitting. Kelly pulled a chair out from the table and exclaimed, “I feel like I'm in a living painting, but I don't think any artist could capture the colors of this sky.”
“Don't sit down yet, Kelly, the waiter said this was the perfect time to see the view from the cupola. I waited for you. Come on, it's over this way,” Carola said.
They walked past the small band that was just beginning to play their nightly music and stepped up into the cupola. Large openings in the round room allowed a panoramic view of the city, the Caribbean Sea, the capitol, and the mass of humanity below them.
“Carola, thank you so much for everything you've done today. Mike and I would never have been able to do this without you, and if we'd tried, we probably would have had nervous breakdowns. And our room is spectacular.”
Kelly noticed that Carola had a funny look on her face and then she said, “I'm glad you like it. Jack was so grateful to Mike for coming with him on this trip that he wanted you to have the special suite, and I couldn't have agreed more.”
“Wait a minute,” Kelly said, “Are you saying you and Jack don't have the same type of room that we have?”
“No, we were supposed to stay in the suite because the company Jack’s working with books their clients at this hotel and evidently they arrange to have the person who is in charge of the group stay in the suite. We have a lovely room, and believe me, I'm not complaining. Now we need to get you a mojito, and I’ve already ordered lobster tails for all of us. I saw some at the table next to ours, and they looked spectacular.”
As they walked down the steps of the cupola Kelly said, “I'm embarrassed you did that for us, but thank you very much. I just wish we were staying longer. That suite definitely does not qualify as a crash pad.”
Carola laughed. “Maybe that will help you forget the unconscionable hour you're going to have to get up in the morning. The receptionist told me they'll have sweet rolls and coffee for us at 3:30 tomorrow morning.”
When they returned to the table Mike and Jack were deep in a conversation with an American man who appeared to be in his early forties. “Carola, Kelly, I'd like you to meet Philip Montgomery,” Jack said. “He's going to be staying at the resort where we’ll be for the coming week and fishing with the company we're fishing with, so we'll be seeing a lot of each other for the next week.”
Kelly and Carola shook hands with Philip as the bartender arrived with the hotel's signature drink which is also one of Cuba's most popular drinks, mojitos served in a tall glass with a stalk of spearmint muddled in it. Made with rum, they’re a staple in Cuba and have recently become very popular in the United States.
“I don't think that's an authentic mojito. It's been my experience that if it doesn't take the bartender at least fifteen minutes to make the drink, it’s not being prepared correctly,” Philip said arrogantly.
“I wouldn't know about that,” Kelly said, “but it sure tastes good. Philip, I detect an accent I can’t place. Where are you from?”
“I live in the Florida Keys. I recently moved there from Australia, and when I heard there was a remote Cuban island called Cayo Largo, which means Key Largo in English, I had to come and see what it was like. We have an island in the Florida Keys called Key Largo, and I wanted to see what the differences were between the two islands that share the same name. From everything I’ve learned about it, the fishing is supposed to be fantastic at Cayo Largo, and I live to fish.
&
nbsp; “I also wanted to meet Jack. When I talked to the company who sponsors these trips, I mentioned I’d just started a fishing guide business in Florida, and I told them I would be interested in guiding for them here in Cuba if they were looking for American guides. That's when they told me they had invited a man from Northern California by the name of Jack Trout to see if he’d be interested in working with them. They suggested I talk to Jack. I had a business in Australia, but my wife is from Connecticut, and when our son was born, she insisted we move back to be near her parents. I really didn't want to return to the States, but here I am. Actually, it's kind of nice to get some time away from my wife and at the same time have an opportunity to do some quality fly fishing at Cayo Largo,” he said.
Out of the corner of her eye Kelly noticed Carola giving Jack a look that more or less said, “If I have anything to say about it, and I do, this man will never work with or for you.”
Jack changed the subject and said, “See the people at the table over there and the guy at the head of the table wearing glasses and a blue fishing shirt? His name is Dudley Samms, and he’s a fly fishing guide who caters to English and German fishermen. He's quite well known in Europe, and I've read about him in several fishing magazines. He's brought a fairly large group with him. Looks like about twenty people.” Jack laughed and said, "Matter of fact, I recently read he was interested in adding American clients to his list of those who want to fish at Cayo Largo. Seems like there are a lot of people interested in developing this type of business.”
He was interrupted by two waiters bringing them plates of lobster tails. The meat had been extracted from the shells and then attractively placed back in them for effect. No one spoke for several minutes while they ate. When Jack was finished, he stood up and said, “I'm going over and introduce myself to Dudley. Since he'll be on the flight to Cayo Largo with us tomorrow, I think I should meet him.”
A few minutes later he came back to the table. “Well, Jack, what do you think of him?” Carola asked.
“I feel like a gauntlet has been thrown down. His words to me after I introduced myself and put out my hand were, ‘It's always nice to meet my competition for the new business that will be coming from the United States, but from what I hear, I don't think you're going to be much competition. Thanks for coming over, and I'll be seeing you.’ He never shook my hand, and he turned back to his group, leaving me standing there like I wasn’t even there. I don't think I've ever had anyone be so rude to me. Wow! Wonder if he's that way with his clients?”
“How dare he?” Carola hissed, a caricature at the moment of a hot-blooded South American woman. “You're the best fly fishing guide in the United States. You take people to Chile, British Columbia, Argentina, and all over the United States. Your clients love you, they always catch lots of fish, and a large percentage of them are repeat clients. Sounds to me like he's really scared of you as well he should be.”
“Looks like there's going to be some healthy competition for the right to bring Americans to Cuba to go fly fishing at Cayo Largo,” Philip said, standing up. “I've enjoyed talking to you. It's going to be a short night and since there are bound to be some Cuban beauties on Cayo Largo, and my wife's not with me, I better get some sleep, so I’ll be rested and ready to party with them. See you in the morning. By the way, I was right. That was a lousy mojito.” He put some Cuban pesos on the table for his drink and the lobster and walked down the stairs at the far end of the outdoor dining area.
The four of them were quiet for a few minutes, digesting what had taken place. Mike was the first to speak, “Jack, watch your back while you’re down here in Cuba. Been my experience when there's money to be made a lot of people are willing to do anything to get it. Don't want you to become a statistic.”
Jack laughed. “Sheriff, leave your law enforcement experience at home. This is a fishing trip, not one of your whodunits. I'll be fine.”
Later, Jack wished he'd paid more attention to Mike's prophetic words.
CHAPTER 3
They met in the lobby at 3:30 the next morning. Philip and Dudley's group were already there, drinking coffee and eating sweet rolls. Philip walked over to each person in Dudley's group, introduced himself, and handed them a business card. One of the men looked at it and dropped it on the floor.
“What do you suppose Philip's doing? I can't imagine Dudley would be very happy with whatever it is. I'd love to know what's on his business card,” Jack said.
“I need some more coffee, let me see if I can find out,” Kelly said. She walked by the table where the man had dropped the card, stooped down, and picked it up. She turned towards the people sitting at the table and said, “Looks like someone dropped this card.”
She held it in her hand, but no one claimed it. She stuck it in her pocket and refilled her coffee. When she returned to the table where Jack, Carola, and Mike were sitting she handed it to Jack and said, “Here it is. I didn't have time to look at it. What does it say?”
Jack read it and looked up. “This is pretty amazing. It's got his name, telephone number, the name of his company, and then at the very bottom in bold type it reads ‘You Deserve the Best Cuban Fishing Guide. If You Book Any Other Guide, You're Getting One That's Second Rate!’ This guy must be on some kind of an ego trip considering the company that arranged this trip told me they want to deal exclusively with me. I don't think they're negotiating with anyone else at the moment.”
“I have a really bad feeling about that guy, Jack,” Carola said, “I don't want you to have anything to do with him. Over my dead body he'll ever work for you.”
“You don't need to worry, Carola. I don't think any of Dudley's group will be interested in him either. If he was any good I think he would have developed a following in Australia, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I’ve never seen his name advertised in any of the fishing magazines or newspapers. I'll bet he bombed out down there, and now he's trying to tap into the American market. I don't think we're going to have much, if any, Internet service when we get to Cayo Largo, but if we do, Carola, would you see if you can find out anything about him?”
“Sure. Look, a bus just drove up, and everybody's heading toward the front door, pulling their suitcases. Jack, want me to help carry the fly rods? We've done well getting everything here so far, and I'd hate for something to happen on the last leg of our flights to Cayo Largo.”
“No. I'm fine. Take your luggage out to where they're loading it on the bus, and I'll make sure it gets on. Go get us a comfortable seat. See you in a few minutes.”
*****
They drove through the dark streets of Havana at 4:00 that morning with the streetlights being their only frames of reference. “Mike, I've never seen anything like this. Look at all these people out at this time of night, or should I say early morning? Wonder what's going on,” she said as they drove by what looked like a large park.
“Hate to shatter any illusions you have, sweetheart, but I think you may be looking at proof that the oldest profession in the world is alive and well here in Havana. Too many attractive young women in skirts too short to be making their way to jobs in the downtown business district.”
"Do you really think that's what's happening?”
“It's not something you see in Cedar Bay, but yes, I definitely think that's what’s happening. And from the lack of any law enforcement personnel around, I’d say it is simply a case of willing buyer meets willing seller.”
“Well, this is a first for me. I haven’t seen anything like that before.”
“Look at it this way. We're really in unchartered territory. We've never seen a city like Havana or its airport, and we’ve never been on a flight at this ungodly hour. Everything is new to us.”
After stopping at numerous hotels in Havana and picking up more passengers who were bound for Cayo Largo, the bus pulled into the parking lot of a small regional airport. It was still pitch dark, and once again they had to go through Immigration and security. The security guard ma
de Kelly take her curling iron out of her large carry-on and said something Kelly couldn't understand. Fortunately Carola was directly behind her and told Kelly she'd have to go through the door marked "Private" and put the curling iron in her checked suitcase. After a long wait in the hot and stuffy waiting area, they boarded the plane to Cayo Largo and took off just as dawn was breaking. The gold and light blue colors of the morning sky shined on the scattered puffy white clouds below them. Kelly looked out the window at the blue-green ocean beneath the plane and saw numerous tiny uninhabited islands scattered like little mounds of chocolate in the vast blue sea. She'd read that over 350 small islands comprised the archipelago of which Cayo Largo was a part.
After a short forty minute flight, the plane began its descent, and Kelly saw several large oceanfront hotels facing the bright blue Caribbean. A few minutes later they stepped off the plane and instantly became wet with perspiration caused by the high heat and humidity. As they walked across the tarmac to the small airport building, Kelly thought she heard the sounds of salsa music coming from the building.
I've only been here a few minutes, and already I must be hallucinating. Maybe it's the heat and the humidity. There is no way anyone could be playing salsa music at this hour of the morning. I mean, who would have the energy?
She followed the other passengers into the building and realized the music hadn’t been her imagination. At the far end of the building a Cuban couple was dancing to the salsa music accompanied by three musicians.
“Mike, can you believe it? They’re really good. I've always wished I could dance like that.”
“Tell you what,” Carola said. “I'll do it for you. I grew up with this kind of music, and every time I go back home to Chile, we salsa dance.” She put down her carry-on luggage and walked over to the couple. Every eye in the airport was riveted on the beautiful small Chilean woman wearing a bright turquoise tube top and short white skirt, sandals tossed off, and looking like a local resident as she started dancing with the Cuban man. The Cuban woman stopped dancing and walked over to the musicians, allowing Carola to take her place. Carola and the man danced until the sounds of luggage being placed on the baggage carousel were heard.
Cedar Bay Cozy Mysteries #3 Page 13
