To Stewart's utter dismay, one hour later Dudley’s photograph was being taken with first a tarpon, then with a bonefish, and finally with a permit. Dudley Samms would be the first Englishman to qualify for the Grand Slam Club. When they returned to the marina at 5:15, Stewart watched the other fishermen congratulate Dudley on making English fishing history. All he could think about was how it could have been him if it wasn’t for Dudley's voiced and unvoiced criticism of his casting ability. He seethed with anger, knowing his blood pressure was far higher than it should be. He made a mental note to take a couple of blood pressure pills as soon as he got back to his room at the hotel.
CHAPTER 9
The van ride back to the hotel was even worse. Philip, Mike, and Jack congratulated Dudley on his achievement, and although none of them particularly liked Dudley, they felt duty bound to honor his fishing prowess.
“Thanks,” Dudley said. He looked at Jack and Philip and said, “Guess you two can say goodbye to your hopes of becoming the official representative for any United States fly fishermen that want to come to Cuba. When the people at Bartolo hear what I've done today, they're definitely going to want me to be their exclusive representative for booking trips for American fly fishermen. I need to start making plans to open a couple of offices in the United States. Don't want to step on either one of your toes, but the Pacific Northwest and Florida are the natural places for them. The bulk of American fly fishermen come from those areas. I'm thinking maybe I'll pay you a small referral fee for any clients you send me. We'll work out the details once I get the go-ahead from Bartolo.”
Mike looked at Jack and couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jack simply smiled and nodded. Out of the corner of his eye Mike noticed that Philip looked really angry. Although his face was red, and his fists were clenched, he didn't say anything.
“I didn't know when I came here it would be so easy to do,” Dudley bragged in a loud voice, “I don't know why some other Englishman hasn't become the first member of the Grand Slam Club. I guess I really am the best fly fisherman in England. Too bad Stewart Bond wasn't first, but if you're not any good at casting, you can't catch fish. Simple as that, right, Stewart?” Stewart stoically stared out the window of the van and refused to answer him.
After the short trip from the marina the van pulled up in front of the resort, and the men carried their equipment into the reception area. Mike had just started to head for his room when he heard Kelly's voice calling to him. “Mike, I'm meeting Carola in the bar. Why don’t you join us for a beer before you go to the room? I want to hear all about the day’s fishing.”
Carola walked up at that moment and said, “So do I. Mike, do you know if Jack already went to our room?”
“Yes. He said he wanted to take a shower and then go for a swim in the ocean before it got dark. He said he'd meet us at the restaurant at eight. Although I could use a shower, a cold beer sounds better at the moment. This heat and humidity is really something.”
They walked over to the open-air bar and sat at a table at the back of the room. They chatted casually, filling each other in on the events of the day as they sipped their cold beer. Forty-five minutes later they heard a siren. Mike cocked his ear and said, “If we were in the States, I'd say that was an ambulance, and it seems to be getting closer. I wonder what's going on. Stay here. I'll be back in a minute. I know it's a sheriff thing, but I can't hear a siren without having it arouse my curiosity.”
“I wonder what’s going on,” Kelly said fifteen minutes later. “Mike's been gone for a long time. Stay here, Carola, and hold our seats. I'll see if I can find out what’s happening.”
She walked down the path that led to the reception area and saw some flashing blue and red lights coming from an ambulance. Mike was standing in front of it talking to the ambulance personnel and a man who looked like he was a policeman. Several hotel employees were there as well. She made her way through the gathering crowd and stood next to Mike as the ambulance attendants put a body covered with a white sheet in the ambulance.
He looked down at her as she asked, “What's happened?”
“It looks like Dudley went for a swim in the ocean and drowned. A couple was taking a twilight walk along the beach and found his body. It must be an incoming tide because his body washed up on shore almost immediately after he died.”
“Is there anyone on the island who can determine the cause of his death?”
“No. The island’s so small there’s no coroner, so they're flying one over from the mainland. The hotel’s house doctor did a quick examination of the body and from what the people around me said, he thought Dudley probably had of a heart attack and then drowned. The coroner’s coming here in the morning, and he’ll do an examination of the body. The hotel doesn't want the slightest hint of any possibility that there was foul play. Looks like my shower will have to wait because the constable wants to talk to the fishermen Dudley was with today to see if anyone can shed some light on the cause of his death. The doctor did say he thought it was very unusual for a man in his early forties to die of a heart attack.”
“I'm no expert, but I’d have to agree. That does seem very unusual,” Kelly responded.
“Kelly, I haven't had a chance to tell you about it, but Dudley was really belittling Stewart, the guy he fished with today. That's not all. He was acting like a first class jerk. He told Jack and Philip, the guy from Florida, that they could forget about being Bartolo’s exclusive representative in the United States, because he was bound to get the position since he was the first English fisherman to qualify for the Grand Slam Club. He even said he was going to open offices in the Pacific Northwest and Florida since that's where most of the Cuban fly fishing business comes from. At the time I thought it was a real insulting slap in the face for both Jack and Philip. Philip looked furious, but Jack, as is typical of him, simply smiled. If it turns out Dudley didn't die of natural causes, it might be worth taking a look at this guy Stewart. He was practically smoking he was so angry at Dudley.”
“Yeah, well I haven't had a chance to tell you about the conversation I overheard about the fight Dudley and his wife had last night as well as the conversation Carola had with her,” Kelly said. She related the two conversations to him.
He raised an eyebrow and said, “It will be very interesting what the coroner has to say about the cause of death. If it turns out it was foul play, it looks like there are already a couple of people I’d be inclined to think of as suspects. I suppose Jack would qualify to be one as well since he’s interested in getting the Bartolo contract, but I can’t believe he’d have anything to do with it. Why don’t you go on back in the bar and tell Carola what's happened? Looks like most of the people who were with Dudley today are here now, and the constable is motioning us into a room. I don’t see Jack, so I’ll give him a call. It shouldn't take too long, but then again I've never been questioned by Cuban authorities. See you in a little while.”
“You were sure gone a long time,” Carola said when Kelly walked back to the table where she was sitting. “What's happening?”
“This is really quite shocking, but evidently Dudley Samms’ body washed up on shore a little while ago. The resort doctor was called and thinks he probably had a heart attack while he was swimming, but he also said Dudley seemed too young to suffer cardiac arrest. Mike told me the coroner is flying to the island tomorrow morning from Havana, which is as soon as he can get here. He told me a few other things that may make it interesting if it's determined Dudley didn't die from natural causes.” Kelly went on to tell her what had happened in the van on the way back from the marina.
“Carola, I don't want to alarm you, but you know Mike is the Beaver County, Oregon Sheriff. He's been involved in several murder cases over the last couple of years, and I've helped him as well. I hate to tell you this, but if the coroner finds that Dudley was murdered, Jack could be a suspect, and here's why. Mike says the first place you look when trying to solve a murder case is to find out who ha
s the most to gain from the victim being murdered. “In Dudley's case, from what Mike told me, there could be several people. Certainly Philip and Jack, because now one of their competitors for the Bartolo contract is no longer around. Mike told me he would do whatever was necessary to clear Jack’s name if it does turn out to be a case of murder. I just want you to know ahead of time that it's a possibility.”
“You’ve got to be kidding! Jack is the kindest, gentlest person I've ever known. That's why he specializes in catch and release fishing. He can’t stand to guide clients he calls 'meat fishers.' You know, the type that want to kill every fish they catch and put it in an ice chest. No, there is absolutely no way my husband could have done something like that. He is simply incapable of it.”
“From what Mike’s told me about Jack, I would have to agree. Mike said Philip was really mad at Dudley, and he felt Dudley had unfairly embarrassed and demeaned Stewart. Those are two others who could be considered suspects, and then there's his wife.”
Mike walked into the bar followed by Jack, just as Kelly finished telling Carola what Mike had told her. Carola stood up and hugged Jack. “Honey, I am so sorry about this. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I'm fine, but obviously Dudley isn't. I told the constable I’d gone for a swim about the time Dudley’s body was discovered, but I hadn't seen anything. I hope he believed me.”
“You're not the only one. Let's go up to the room. I imagine you could use a little quiet time right now.” She turned to Mike and Kelly. “It's 7:00 now. Let's meet in the restaurant at 8:00. Maybe someone will know more then.”
“Sounds good,” Kelly said. “Mike, I imagine you could use a little rest too after a long hot day in the sun.”
They met in the restaurant, but dinner was a somber affair given the recent turn of events. They called it a night as soon as they finished dinner and retired to their rooms.
CHAPTER 10
The next morning Kelly kissed Mike goodbye and wished him luck as he scurried around the room making sure he had everything he'd need for the day's fishing. She'd had no luck with the coffeepot or hot water pot that was in the room. The only thing she could find next to it was decaffeinated coffee, and she definitely needed something with a kick to begin her morning. After she finished dressing she decided to walk down to the buffet restaurant and get some coffee. It was already sunny and humid and the breeze almost blew the floppy sun hat she was wearing off of her head before she could make it down the steps of their building. When she got to the bottom she thought she heard something.
She looked down to see where the sound had come from and saw a very small cat. She bent down to pet it as it mewed and wrapped itself around her ankles. “Aren't you a little beauty?” she said to the amber and white colored cat. She gently stroked its soft fur and was rewarded with the cat purring. “Who do you belong to, and where do you live, little one?” Although she knew the cat couldn't answer, she couldn't help but ask the question as she looked around but didn't see anyone. “Do you belong to the resort? Are you in charge of making sure there aren't any mice or other things tourists might not like?”
Kelly stood up and said, “Little cat, I think I'll call you Cayo after the name of this island. I have to go now, but I hope to see you again.”
The calico cat looked up at her as if to say, “You're definitely going to see me again. Matter of fact I'm going with you. They know me in the restaurant. Let’s go.” Cayo took a few steps in front of Kelly and then looked back at her as if to say, “Well, are you coming or not?”
“This is something I didn't expect. Guess there's a lot that happens on this island I don't know about. If you want to come with me, you're more than welcome,” she said to the little cat. The two of them walked over to the open-air restaurant and entered it. There was no doubt Cayo was quite at home in the restaurant.
Kelly sat down and immediately a server came over to her table, reached down, and petted the small cat while at the same time asking Kelly if she would like some juice or coffee. The cat stretched out under the table as if it belonged there.
“Black coffee, please. It looks like you know this cat.”
“Ah, yes. Many people feed him, and he keeps the mice and other little critters in check. We like him very much, but he has never stayed with just one person. Usually he walks through the restaurant hoping to find someone who will give him food. You must own a cat, and he senses you are a friend.”
“No, I have two dogs. I've never owned a cat. I really don't know anything about them.”
“Animals always know about people. You might not have a cat now but you will. He can tell.”
Oh yeah, Kelly thought. With two dogs, and the last one pretty difficult to get Mike to accept, don't see that happening anytime soon.
She sipped her coffee and had the same thought that she'd had the morning before about the coffee tasting more like foamy hot chocolate than the black coffee she was used to at home. She’d decided yesterday that it wasn't bad, just different. Meanwhile Cayo snored softly beneath her feet. She pushed her chair back, being careful not to disturb him. She circled around all of the breakfast stations trying to decide what to have for breakfast.
Good grief. I have never seen such a breakfast display. Whatever country you're from, and whatever you’re used to eating for breakfast, it's here. I'd like to try everything, but not only would I be in a food coma for the rest of the day, Mike would have to hire a forklift to get me on the plane when it's time to go home. Probably not a good thing to do. She settled for a fresh shrimp omelet and some fruit.
The savory taste of the freshly caught shrimp in the omelet reminded her of what Carola had eaten for dinner the previous night. She’d opted for shrimp pasta with mushrooms, calamari, onions and garlic. It looked so good Kelly had already decided that's what she was going to have for dinner tonight. What fascinated her was Carola's description of how the chef had prepared it. Evidently he’d taken precooked pasta and put it in a cylindrical sieve type container which he plunged into simmering hot water. Carola told him what she wanted in her pasta, and he squeezed oil from a bottle into a pan which was sizzling hot, flash fried the ingredients, and asked Carola what kind of sauce she wanted on her pasta. The choices were bolognese, white, or a combination of the two. He'd taken a ladle of the sauce from a container, mixed it with the sizzling ingredients, drained the pasta, and put it in the sizzling pan. He mixed the ingredients together and plated it. Kelly had looked enviously at the pasta plate, and Carola confirmed it was every bit as good as it looked.
If it's half as good as it looked, I could easily serve that at the coffee shop. I could have a list of ingredients and customize a pasta plate for customers. With the pasta being precooked it wouldn't be any harder for Charlie to make than it is for him to cook an omelet or hamburger, and I don't know of any restaurants around us that do something like that.
Kelly felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Carola wearing a cover-up top over a bright pink bikini. With her jet black hair and dark skin, she was breathtaking. Her beauty and innate sexiness was not lost on the men in the room, many of whom took the opportunity when their wives or significant others were getting their breakfast to stare longingly at Carola who seemed to be completely oblivious of her charming and sexy appearance.
“I’m going down to the beach and sunbathe this morning. You're welcome to join me,” Carola said as she sat down across from Kelly. Sensing something near her feet she looked down. “What do we have here?” she asked, looking at the reclining cat who was purring next to Kelly's feet.
“This is my new friend. He discovered me on the walk here this morning and hasn't left me. I've named him Cayo.”
“Here kitty, here kitty,” Carola said. Cayo looked at her, but didn't move from his spot next to Kelly. “I thought you told me you were a dog person. I'm the one who has two cats at home. I’d think he’d sense that and come to me.”
“Me too. I can't explain this. I know absolutely nothing
about cats.”
“You might not know anything about them, but I can tell you they are uncanny when it comes to accepting people. If a cat purrs when someone is around, that's a person that can be trusted. If instead a cat hisses, you want to get as far away as you can from that person.”
“Thanks, but this might be the only time Cayo and I are together. I imagine he has a lot of friends here. Anyway, thanks for the beach invite, but I need to make sense of the notes I took when we met with the chef yesterday. Why don't we meet here for lunch, say at 1:30? That should give both of us plenty of time. I understand they sell a card which allows you to access the Internet in the lobby. I want to do that and let everyone know we arrived safe and sound. The day we left home there was a hurricane in Mexico that looked pretty bad, and I'm sure my staff and children are wondering if we've been affected by it. See you later.”
Kelly stood and started to walk towards the restaurant entrance. As soon as she stood up, Cayo stood up and walked with her step for step. “Kelly,” Carola said laughing, “I'll bet you anything you want to bet that this isn't going to be the only time you and Cayo are together. Hope Mike likes cats.”
When she got to her room Kelly slid the plastic key card into the slot and the light on the lock turned green. She opened the door and before she could close it, Cayo slipped into the room, jumped on the bed, and curled up on a pillow.
Oh, this is just swell. Our vacation is starting to have a life of its own. Yesterday the death of a fishing guide, and today I've been adopted by a cat. She looked at the calico cat that had fallen sound asleep. I don't have a clue how Mike is going to feel about this. Dogs we talk about. Cats we've never discussed.
CHAPTER 11
Kelly heard the salsa music as soon as she walked down the stairs from their ocean view room and headed for the restaurant. If the day before yesterday was any indication, I'll bet Carola will be dancing, and every man in the restaurant will be salivating. As it turned out, it was just as she had predicted. Carola was dancing with a Cuban man to the cheers and hoots of the crowd. Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time. When Carola saw Kelly she danced over to the table where she’d taken a seat and said, “Be with you in a minute.” She and the Cuban man finished the dance to a thunderous round of applause.
Cedar Bay Cozy Mysteries #3 Page 16
