Murder at the Mayan Temple (A Starling and Swift Cozy Mystery Book One)

by M. J. Mandrake

  “No, she’s just upset. She’s fine. She’s defending me.” He was backing away from the group, Callie behind him.

  “I said give it back! You don’t understand anything!” Ron was gesturing wildly.

  Leander held out his hand wordlessly, his gaze meeting hers. Kitty edged nearer, her heart pounding in her ears.

  In his palm lay a small triangle of white stone, about two inches long. It was intricately carved with Mayan symbols.

  “You don’t understand,” Ron signed. He breathed heavily, and Callie was whining and turning repeatedly behind him. “He broke it.”

  “Who broke it? What are you talking about?” Liliana grabbed Leander’s hand and let out a gasp of horror when she saw the stone shining brightly in the candlelight.

  “I decided to move the artifacts to a safer place yesterday after dinner, but he must have followed me. Later when I went to kitchen to check on them, I found him right in the act of stealing the knife. I demanded he put it back. It was priceless. He had no business even touching it.” Ron’s face was turning red, his eyes bulging. “He told me that history didn’t matter, that my work didn’t matter. That the only thing that mattered was money, and I was fool if I couldn’t see that. Then he threw the knife to the ground, breaking the tip.”

  “Oh, Ron,” Liliana whispered, her hands to her mouth.

  Penny and Elaine clutched each other, eyes wide.

  “But you didn’t kill him there,” Kitty said.

  “No, I wanted him to know he was wrong.” He smiled, pleased with his own clever, twisted plan. “I wrote that note pretending to be Ashley because I knew he couldn’t resist messing around with someone else’s wife. He was a terrible person, we all know that. You agree with me. Don’t you?” He looked from one face to the next.

  Blake and Tyler nodded, but it wasn’t sincere. They wore matching expressions of shock.

  “You took Callie with you?” Kitty asked.

  For the first time, he seemed remorseful. “I needed her. I wouldn’t be able to hear him coming. But I didn’t think about how she would react. She was only defending me, you know. She’s a good dog, and it wasn’t her fault he got bit.” Callie cowered behind him, ears back. She was clearly traumatized by what she’d seen in the ruins, and it was all coming back to her as she saw her owner facing down a group of horrified people.

  “But couldn’t you have fixed it?” Kitty asked.

  “No! Once it was broken, it was almost worthless.” Ron gestured wildly. “None of you understand. He ruined something irreplaceable and he had to pay. And it was perfect, wasn’t it? Being sacrificed right there in the middle of all of that history?” He grinned, as if they would all agree with him.

  “So, he understood all of that before… before…?” Liliana asked. Her face was streaked with tears.

  “No, of course not. He was too stupid to understand anything that important. But it still gave his pathetic life some meaning. The God of Wind was thankful for the sacrifice, I know he was. He will calm the storm very soon.” He looked around, realizing that none of them seemed very excited. “It doesn’t matter how smart the person is. They always chose the most beautiful, the most physically attractive. You see? Jace was the perfect sacrifice all along! There was a reason he broke the knife. It was all meant to be.”

  Kitty met Leander’s gaze. Ron wasn’t sane, that was very clear.

  Ron sighed, gazing at the little chip of stone. “It was true the handle wasn’t strong enough. It came off as soon as I stabbed him. But it wasn’t deep enough, so I took off his flipflop and used that to make sure it was all the way in.”

  She imagined Ron pounding the blade into Jace’s chest with the yellow rubber flipflop, and had a sudden, awful urge to laugh. Clearing her throat, she asked, “But you waited too long in the ruins. You had to jump down, and then walk out of the cove.”

  Ron shrugged. “I wanted to look around a little longer without being rushed by the tour guide.”

  Leander stepped toward him. “Ronald Brown, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of―”

  “No, I have to get back to Houston. You don’t understand,” Ron said, backing toward the door.

  Kitty sucked in a breath. This was what Leander had been afraid of. He wouldn’t be able to hold the murderer until the authorities came. She looked from Ron to Leander, judging the odds. Leander was younger, taller, heavier, clearly more fit. But Ron was crazy, and he’d managed to kill Jace without much difficulty. Kitty’s eyes went to Callie, still cowering beside Ron. She needed to get Callie away, or Leander would end up battling both of them.

  Leander shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. You’ll have to come in for questioning.”

  “Come in?” Ron rolled his eyes. “Have you forgotten what’s happening outside? The Mexican government moves like cold molasses at the best of times. In a hurricane, it’ll be weeks before they get to me.”

  Kitty edged closer to Callie’s side. If she could pull her to safety, then Leander could tackle Ron. Her heart was pounding in her throat. As sweet and loving as service dogs were, they were still animals who were fiercely loyal. Just minutes before she’d tried to bite Liliana, and she was part of her family.

  “I’ll just go back to Houston and teach for a while. When they want me, they can come ask me questions. I’m sure they’ll understand, actually. That chief looks mostly Mayan. I bet he’d be glad I made a sacrifice to the gods.” He started to smile. “They might give me a medal.”

  Kitty tried to keep a placid expression on her face, but her skin was crawling as she moved closer to Ron. How had she not seen the insanity in his eyes?

  Chica had been quiet for several minutes as Ron talked. She watched Kitty move closer and also shifted her feet, as if getting ready to pounce.

  “Dude, you are nuts,” Tyler signed.

  “Yeah, nobody is going to give you a medal.” Blake shook his head. “You need to just give yourself up.”

  “Please, Ron.” Liliana’s eyes were red. “Don’t hurt anybody else.”

  He glared at her. “Hurt anybody? I didn’t hurt anybody. I was teaching him.”

  Kitty was close enough to put her hand on Callie’s collar and she gently started to tug her away from Ron. Instead of fighting her, Callie came willingly, looking almost relieved to be out from behind Ron’s body.

  Leander watched them for a few moments, and then made his move. Grabbing one of Ron’s hands and twisting it upward, he flipped him around, pressing his face into the door. “I’m arresting you for murder. Anything you say can and will be―”

  “He can’t hear you,” Liliana called out. “It won’t stick if he can’t understand you.”

  They all stopped to look at Liliana. She shrugged. “I watch a lot of cop shows and I don’t want him released on a technicality. He needs help.”

  Leander nodded, and started to turn Ron around so Kitty could translate for him as he read him his Miranda rights. For a moment, it seemed as if Ron would accept that his time was over. The next second, he’d swung out of Leander’s reach and thrown open the door, bolting out into the darkness.

  Chica shot out after him, barking wildly.

  “No!” Kitty cried and let go of Callie’s collar to chase Chica. The wind buffeted against her and the rain stung her eyes as she ran blindly. “Chica! Come back!”

  She could hear her barking up ahead, somewhere in the pitch blackness.

  “She’s over there,” Leander said, sprinting up beside her.

  “We need light!” Kitty stopped, fumbling with her penlight. She was soaked and the pen slipped from her grasp, landing with a soft splash. She crouched down, her breath coming in soft gasps, sweeping her hands in small arcs.

  “I got it,” Leander called, holding it up and fumbling to turn it back on. Grabbing her hand and they half-ran, half-stumbled into the dense jungle.

  Chica’s barks grew deeper and louder. She’d cornered Ron. She had no doubt Chica could take down Ron
and keep him there. But what would happen if Chica wounded him severely, or bit him where he might bleed to death? Then Chica would be the murderer and the authorities would punish her as a wild animal, out of control, and a danger to the public.

  “Chica!” she screamed, sobs tearing from her throat. Her one and only friend, her partner, her family. She couldn’t lose her.

  And then Chica’s barks changed. Instead of a dog in pursuit of a killer, she sounded like the one in danger. They were higher pitched, ending on a whine. The fear and pain in her bark had Kitty stumbling blindly into the jungle, too terrified to call out.

  Chica, as fierce and as strong as she was, was not going to win this fight.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I was always holding onto people, and they were always leaving.”

  ― Lili St. Crow

  Chica’s bark sounded near them, higher and more desperate than before. Again and again, she cried out, and then suddenly was silent. The wind and Chica’s barking had masked Ron’s voice until that moment, but now they could hear inarticulate, full-throated yells of pain.

  She met Leander’s gaze over the wavering light and whispered, “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

  “Chica,” he bellowed and renewed his pace, pushing aside bushes and crawling over logs. Suddenly he was waist deep in water and scrambling to get out. Kitty nearly followed him in, but caught herself at the last moment.

  “Go around,” he yelled, gesturing to the left.

  She ran as best she could through the darkness, hearing Leander’s thrashing in the water to her right, and Chica’s panicked barks from up ahead. She’d always figured she would lose Chica to old age, maybe even cancer. She never, ever thought she’d be killed by a madman in the dark of the jungle. Her last moments would be filled with terror, wondering why Kitty hadn’t come to help her.

  Forcing herself to stop sobbing, Kitty listened again. Chica had gone quiet.

  “Leander,” she called.

  For a moment, he didn’t answer and Kitty imagined the very worst. Ron had killed Chica, and then Leander. She was next.

  “Here,” he called, and a few moments later he was beside her.

  “I can’t hear her…” Kitty tried to say, but her tears swallowed the rest of her sentence.

  Wrapping his arms around her, Leander whispered into her hair. “It’s not over yet. We’ll find her.”

  Kitty knew that was probably a lie, but she didn’t let go. “How could I have let her die?” she cried.

  “Wait,” Leander said. “Listen.”

  Kitty couldn’t bear the false hope, but she lifted her head, trying to calm herself enough to hear. They were sheltered somewhat now that they were under the jungle canopy. Something was moving toward them. She still had the penlight clutched in her hand and she shone it toward the sound.

  Chica crashed through the bushes, dripping wet, eyes wild with fear.

  Kitty threw herself on her, crying into her fur, alternating hugs with searching for wounds. Chica seemed unhurt, only very, very frightened. Her body trembled and she looked back toward the jungle as if watching for Ron to chase after her.

  “We won’t be able to find him tonight,” Leander said. “Let’s go back.”

  The jungle was a dark like she had never seen. The sky was overcast, but even on a clear night, no one could have seen the moon because of the thick overhanging vines. “If we’d come much farther, I think we would have had to wait for daylight,” she said, her voice shaking.

  Leander gripped her hand. “Then we’d have made a shelter under a palm tree and waited out the storm.”

  She almost laughed at his optimism. “Sounds cozy.”

  “Why not? It’s not so bad in here. Probably safer than in the house with all the glass windows.” She could barely see him, but knew he was smiling. “Downright cozy, I bet.”

  She was quiet for a moment as they pushed through the last wall of leaves and arrived on the road. The puddles reflected her penlight weakly. The wind seemed less forceful but the rain was still pouring down on them in sheets. Chica plodded along, her head bent low. The first thing Kitty planned to do was to rub her down and check for wounds. Something terrible had happened out there. She just wasn’t sure what.

  She glanced at Leander as they reached the road. He had run out without a coat, just as she had. He looked battered, muddy, and exhausted. Maybe they wouldn’t see each other again after the police arrived. Maybe their statements would be taken, evidence collected, and all the guests returned to Miami. It was very possible that this would be the last moment of privacy they had. She had questions, but she didn’t know if they’d be answered.

  “Let’s run,” he said, and gripped her hand.

  Nodding, Kitty gave her last bit of energy to jog through the mud, wind and pouring rain to the front of the embassy house. The moment had passed.

  It was all for the best, really. She didn’t need any more drama in her life. After this, she would go right back to her cozy, comfortable life. She would never see him, or a dead body, again.

  Penny swung open the door and Elaine peered out. “Goodness,” she signed. “You two look like a walking smite from God.”

  “Thanks, Elaine.” Kitty managed a smile as they were welcomed back inside. It was still illuminated spookily with candles, but was warm and dry, which was more than she could say for the three of them.

  Ron’s fate weighed heavily on her thoughts all night, and through the next morning. The storm receded and the police made their way, finally, to the embassy home. Kitty, Leander and the others gave their statements, and the police sent a search party out into the thick jungle.

  Liliana Brown wasn’t as upset as Kitty had feared she would be when they all testified to Ron’s confession. Apparently, Ron’s mind had been slipping for quite some time, and she was relieved to be safe from his spiraling madness.

  She was also saddened, as they all were, when the search party found his body later that same day. The work of a jaguar, from the looks of it.

  Apparently, the God of Wind hadn’t considered Jace a perfect sacrifice after all.

  ***

  Kitty rolled the coconut ice cream around on her tongue and squinted up at the luxury cruise liner. Ten minutes before the gate opened for boarding passengers and life returned to normal. Or as normal as life could be after surviving a near-drowning, living through a hurricane, and catching a murderer.

  The passengers streamed down the gangplank, outfitted with fanny packs and clutching their wide-brimmed hats. Tavish had arranged from her to hitch a ride on another cruise ship that was sailing around the peninsula, which was a very thoughtful gesture and a chore far below his pay grade. A three hour bus ride across the Yucatan wasn’t an impossible task, but spending a day being pampered sounded much better. Also, she was itching for a few games of Bingo.

  Chica shifted restlessly at her feet. Kitty wasn’t sure if it was the residual stress from the last couple of days, or if she was just anxious to leave Tulum behind, but her dog seemed unhappy. She hadn’t suffered any injuries from her encounter with the jungle jaguar except for a long scratch on one of her ears. You look like a real pirate now, Kitty had told her.

  Leaning against the railing, Kitty scanned the deck of the luxury liner. All the guests looked the same. Sunglasses, hats, colorful shirts, cargo shorts, sensible shoes. So happy, so bland. Maybe there was another murderer among them. She shivered at the thought.

  “Kitty.”

  She jumped, throwing her little pink cup of ice cream over the railing. She watched it splash into the sea far below, and sighed.

  “I’m so sorry. I―” Leander said.

  “No, really. It’s clearly me.” Kitty glared at Chica. She was starting to think her dog was failing to warn her on purpose.

  “Is this your ride?” he asked.

  “Yes. Are you headed―” She realized she still didn’t know where he lived. “―back home?”

  Before he answered, he stooped to rub Chica beh
ind the ears and murmur something to her. Her heart swelled at the fact he treated her dog like a person, but she reminded herself of her new motto. No drama, no romance. Quiet life. Well, it had been her old motto, and now it would be her new motto. Again.

  “Right. I’m headed to the airport in a few minutes. I didn’t get to say goodbye this morning. I hope you don’t mind that I tracked you down.” His bruises and scrapes contrasted sharply with his professional attire. The black suit was back in place, tie perfectly knotted, white shirt nicely pressed, and dress shoes polished. Everything else was the same: the shock of white hair, the bright blue eyes, the smile…

  Kitty cleared her throat. “I’d offer you some ice cream, but I just threw it over the side.”

  “What flavor?”

  “Coconut.”

  He grimaced. “I hate coconut.”

  “How can you live in Mexico and hate coconut?” she asked.

  “Easily. I eat everything else.”

  “Everything?”

  “Almost everything.” The conversation ground to a halt and he looked at his shoes. “So, you’re headed back to Mérida?”

  “Yes. I have a graduate history student who watches my bookstore while I’m away, so being a few days late hasn’t been an issue. Except for the cats. They might be plotting my demise as I speak.” She knew she was talking too much but didn’t know what else to do. It was now or never. She decided she had to know. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”

  “When?”

  “At the embassy house. Your door was cracked and…” She felt her face go warm. She was admitting that she’d listened in on his conversation.

  “Oh. That was my cousin, Melanie. She lives in Chicago and heard about the hurricane. She worries. Just like my mom.”

  “Where are you from?” Kitty asked.

  “Tallahassee, Florida.”

  She snorted. “No, really.”

  “Really.” He glanced at her in surprise. “Why?”

  “You were so cagey about your family, I just imagined something… different.”

  “My family is from Catalonia. My parents immigrated from Spain and my first language is Catalan,” he said. “Melanie’s dad is American and she was raised speaking English, but she can understand quite a bit…”