Dying for a Vacation: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 4)

by Sarah Kelly

  The India Kirby Witch Mystery: Book 4

  DYING FOR A VACATION

  All rights reserved. Without limited the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission for the publication / use of these trademarks.

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  The India Kirby Witch Mystery Series

  Dying to be a Star

  Dying to be Married

  Dying to Break Free

  Dying for a Vacation

  CHAPTER 1

  “Please, please, please tell me,” India Kirby begged, bouncing her knees up and down in the back of the cab. She just couldn’t keep still.

  Xavier had been grinning the whole way from Benton Point to the airport. “Nope,” he said, watching as the driver swung into the departures drop off area. “Not yet.”

  “Not one teeny tiny clue?” India asked, clasping her hands together. “Not even a peek in my suitcase?”

  “Over my dead body.” Xavier had insisted he pack her bags, so she wouldn’t get a clue about where they were going.

  “Well, it’s gotta be either somewhere really hot, or really cold,” India said. It was a warm October, and she was sure if it was anywhere temperate he would have let her pack for herself. As it was, the clothing had to give something away. She wondered if he was taking her back to Wisconsin to visit her family. But she’d already guessed that, and a thousand other places, along the way. Desperate to know, she continued, as the driver lugged their cases out the back and set them on the sidewalk. “Italy?” she asked. “Japan?”

  “I said I’m not telling you,” Xavier said. He pretended to be irritated but he couldn’t keep the excited sparkle out of his eye.

  “Oh man,” India said, hopping about on the kerb.

  “All set?” the driver said, grinning at them both. “Have a great time.”

  “Thanks a bunch,” Xavier said, slapping a note into his palm as they shook hands. “You’ll come pick us up afterward?”

  “Sure.”

  Xavier and India got their luggage onto a cart and pushed it into the airport. It was actually the first time India had ever been to one. She’d never been out of the U.S. before.

  “Okay, okay, okay,” Xavier said to himself, scanning the departures board. “Where do we check in? Aha. Area C.”

  “You’re killing me here,” India said, a dance in her step as she walked beside him.

  He pushed the cart with a sly smile. “I can’t keep it hidden much longer.” When they reached area C, he nodded at three different lines where people waited to load their bags. “It’s one of those three.”

  “Eeek!” India said, clapping her hands. “So it’s either Houston… Mexico… or Grenada. That’s in the Caribbean, right?”

  Xavier couldn’t stop smiling for the life of him. “That’s right.”

  “No,” India said, her eyes bulging. “Get out of here. That’s where we’re going, isn’t it?”

  Xavier looked to his left, raising his eyebrows and trying to look nonchalant. “No. Whoever said that?”

  “You’re the best!” India launched herself at him in a hug and squeezed. “Ahh. I can’t believe it.”

  Xavier’s face fell. “Babe, we’re going to Houston.”

  “Huh?”

  Then he broke out in a huge smile that lit up her world. “Just kidding. Let’s get in line and haul our butts off to the Caribbean.”

  “Wow. Wow. Wow. Uh! I can’t believe it.”

  ***

  After the usual airport rigmarole and terrible in-flight food, the plane began to descend for landing. India chewed on gum as hard as she could to keep her ears from popping and looked out of the window. The Caribbean Sea glowed turquoise and azure, and land was coming into sight. Soon they were soaring over majestic emerald peaks. The landscape was dense and lush and vivid green, and a smile crept over India’s face. She’d never seen a place so beautiful in her life. All her life she’d imagined the islands to be like an extension of Florida, but this was something else entirely.

  “Look, rainforest!” she said to Xavier, pointing down.

  He smiled. “Incredible, huh? You know they do rainforest excursions from the hotel. We can actually go all the way in. And there’s a famous Grenada monkey you can try and spot.”

  India loved the enthusiasm in his voice. “You’ve been dying to tell me this, haven’t you?”

  “It was torture,” he said. “I just hate keeping secrets from you.”

  He reached out for her hand. They interlaced their fingers and squeezed. She hated keeping secrets from him, too, but she had to. Despite the perks of being a witch, like being able to conjure things out of thin air and gain special powers to solve mysteries, the pain was just as intense. She ached for Xavier to know everything about her, but she was not allowed to tell a single soul about her powers. She would always have to hold a part of herself back, never confiding in the man who had become her best friend. Whether she could ever make peace with that, she wasn’t sure.

  “We are about to make our descent into Grenada,” an announcer said over the intercom. “Please make sure your seatbelts are fasted and trays are stowed in the upright position.”

  “Wahey!” a voice came from a few rows behind.

  Xavier rolled his eyes with mock exasperation. The group of English women had been laughing and clinking champagne glasses and singing throughout the flight. From snippets of conversation India had gleaned here and there, it was clear one of them was soon to be married, and this was a bachelorette vacation. Or ‘hen holiday’, as they said in their British accents.

  “Hey, they’re just having fun,” India said with a giggle. “Let’s not let a single moment to spoil our vacation.” Suddenly feeling a warmth rise inside, she leant over and kissed Xavier on the cheek. “This is the best surprise ever. Thank you.”

  “You’re so welcome,” Xavier said, beaming from ear to ear.

  “Oop, I think we’re going down. Yay!” India looked out the window again, and marveled at the beauty of the lush green landscape as they descended toward it, and among it. The wide, flat airport was sandwiched in between the ocean and a couple of rising emerald hills. Palm trees dotted the landscape, waving in the Caribbean breeze as if to welcome them.

  “Grenada is super famous for honeymoons, you know,” Xavier said.

  “It looks super romantic, I’ll give it that. I bet you can just go into the middle of nowhere and feel like you’re the only two people on earth.”

  Excitement buzzed through India, and she was one of the first to hurry out of the plane and step into the warmth, Xavier just behind her. The heat hit her face in a sudden wave, and she smiled, closing her eyes and turning her face to the sun.
“Yes,” she whispered.

  They were both so thrilled that the chores of waiting in line for immigration, finding their bags and going through customs felt more like a privilege than a burden. Besides, the Maurice Bishop International Airport was tiny compared to where they’d come from. Within twenty minutes they were strutting out, their bags on a trolley, shades covering blocking the unfamiliar glare of the sun, looking for their taxi driver.

  “He’ll either have a sign saying Bradford or one saying Angel’s Dune Resort.”

  “Angel’s Dune, is that where we’re going?” India asked, wonder in her voice.

  “You know it?”

  “No, it just sounds so magical.”

  Xavier smiled. “Let’s hope so.” The place milled with people and behind in the waiting area a whole bunch of taxi drivers held signs up.

  “Oh, look!” India said. “Angel’s Dune, there, that tall man. Do you see it?”

  “Aha.” Xavier pushed the cases up to the barrier that separated the arrivals from the waiting area. “Sir? Sir?” he said, calling over the chatter. “Sir, we’re headed to Angel’s Dune.”

  “Okay,” the man said and gestured back, then pushed through his fellow taxi drivers, indicating they come over to the side, where it was quieter. The airport’s fourth wall was open to the air, and behind a small car park, hill peaks stretched up into the intense blue of the sky. “I’ll go bring the shuttle around,” he said. “There’s another five people to come with us. The Somers party.”

  “Oh, all right,” Xavier said.

  “I’m Fitzgerald, by the way,” the driver said, shaking first Xavier’s hand, then India’s. They introduced themselves, and then Fitzgerald said, “If you just wait here, I’ll be back in two minutes.”

  “The Somers party, huh?” India said, a slow, wry grin spreading over her face. “Five people.” Just then, the bride to be and her bachelorettes burst out of the doors from the customs area in their bright sundresses and wide hats, screeching with laughter. India linked her arm into Xavier’s. “I’ll give you three guesses who that is.”

  “Oh, man,” Xavier said, but with some humor.

  “I guess we’ll be having a wild ride to the hotel.” India laughed. “As long as they aren’t in the room next to us, I don’t mind.”

  Xavier grinned. “I’d rather sleep in the sea.”

  India giggled, watching who they’d guessed were the Somers party. They all scanned the crowd for the right sign, then kept turning to each other, nonplussed. The bride to be got her iPhone out, saying, “I’ve got a good mind to complain to the hotel. I paid a good load of money for this, and if they ain’t gonna—”

  “Don’t you mean your soon to be husband paid for it,” another of the party joked, nudging her in the ribs. She put her hand on the bride’s arm. “Look, don’t go all bridezilla on us, right? This is supposed to be the best holiday of your life. Well, apart from your honeymoon.”

  The bride paused, then smiled and let out a deep sigh. “You’re right, Jazz. You’re so right.”

  “I can’t see any signs for Angel’s Dune Resort anywhere,” another of the party said.

  “Hey,” India said. “Are you guys the Somers party?”

  “Yes,” the bride said, looking a little startled. “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m India. This is my boyfriend Xavier. We’re heading there, too, and the taxi driver told us we’re in the same shuttle.”

  “Look, here he is now,” Xavier said, pointing to an approaching minivan. It was a metallic gray and the silver wheel detailing was ever so shiny, like Fitzgerald spent hours polishing it.

  “Oh, great,” Jazz said, in such a bouncy way India couldn’t help but warm to her. Her blonde hair was pulled into two short pigtails and she had such a cheery look about her.

  “Thanks.” The bride certainly didn’t have the same vibe. A pretty woman, to be sure, with curves in all the right places, but her smiles and laughter didn’t seem all that carefree. She seemed to India like a woman with a lot on her mind.

  As Xavier helped Fitzgerald load the cases into the back of the taxi, India watched the other women as they climbed in. After Jazz and the bride, the next was a brunette with a stylish asymmetric bob haircut and a slightly subdued air. A biracial woman with a maneful of springy curls and the prettiest pink and white blossom patterned sundress followed. The last woman had a short cut and wore black Bermuda shorts with a white shirt tucked in, an almost androgynous style.

  India slipped in the front seat, and presently Xavier joined her. Fitzgerald climbed up into the driver’s seat, which was on the right hand side of the van. He was a tall man, and his head nearly reached the soft beige roof covering.

  “Ready, everyone?”

  “Yep!” came joyous exclamations from the bachelorette party.

  “You bet,” Xavier said.

  “All right, let’s get this thing moving.” Fitzgerald thrust the taxi into gear and took a slow exit out of the airport.

  India was warming to him immediately. He glowed with a natural friendliness, not forced or put on for tourists, she could tell. His tan slacks and stripe polo shirt made him look professional and approachable, both at once. He looked like someone’s favorite uncle, and she could imagine him being popular with just about everyone.

  “I hope you’ll all love Grenada,” he said. “I can take you on any tours or anything you want to do. I’ll show you all the best places to eat, good things to do. Whatever you need, just give me a call.”

  The bachelorette party were doing a lot of pointing out the window and squealing, so weren’t paying much attention.

  “That sounds great,” India said. “Right now I’m just admiring the scenery. You’re so lucky to live here. It’s beautiful.”

  Fitzgerald smiled in such a gentle, affectionate way, like he was truly proud of his country. “Well, it’s a small island, but it’s home. First time to the West Indies?”

  “My grandfather’s from Jamaica,” Xavier said, looking up out of the window at a huge mountain covered in lush green vegetation, “but I’ve never yet visited. I didn’t know what I was missing.”

  “We must go there,” India said, already falling in love with their surroundings.

  Fitzgerald turned on some lilting reggae music and laughed. “Well, here’s a bit of Jamaican flavor for you.”

  India felt the soothing rhythm of the music wash over, and felt like she was in heaven. Now she knew why people called it paradise. The sky was the brightest blue she’d ever seen, and perfectly puffy white clouds drifted across, unthreatening. They zoomed past brightly painted houses, some up on pillars. The occasional old fashioned wooden house was nestled in bougainvillea bushes, between coconut trees jutting up into the sky.

  “Oh, look there, that’s a banana farm,” Fitzgerald said, pointing to a field where tall thin trees pushed huge deep green leaves out into clusters. He slowed the car, and pointed to an enormous bunch of green bananas, upside down.

  “Wow, is that how they grow?” India said, amazed.

  “You got it,” Fitzgerald said. “About thirty, forty, fifty bananas like that. You can cut them when they’re green and cook them up like that. Especially with saltfish. Or wait till they ripen and then they’re the fruit, of course.”

  “Wow,” Xavier said. “I never knew that.”

  Fitzgerald kicked on the gas and they sped away again. “If you’re interested in how things grow, there’s a tour to a big cocoa farm. I can take you on that one time, if you want. Plus, it’s near the volcanic craters. We could do it all one time.”

  “Yes please!” India said, turning to Xavier with wide, excited eyes. “Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The bride to be had obviously started listening. “We’d all love to go on that. Wouldn’t we, girls?”

  “What?” a couple of them asked.

  The bride to be sighed dramatically. “I know we’re all here together, but remember who this holiday i
s for, all right? The least you could all do is listen when I talk.”

  “Hey, don’t worry, Sam,” the lady with the stylish haircut said. “We’re all gonna have a fantastic time, babe. Especially you.”

  “Oh, for god’s sake, Charlie.” India could see it was the woman with the androgynous style who had spoken, and she did not sound at all in good humor. “I thought the number one agreement for me coming on this trip was that you wouldn’t act like a spoiled princess, Sam.”

  “Oh. My. God.” That was Sam, the bride to be, who began to fan herself. “Don’t even start, Freya. You’re going to ruin this holiday for me, aren’t you?”

  “Hey,” Charlie said softly, putting her arm around Sam. “Don’t worry, babe. It’ll be great.”

  But Sam was not to be placated. “Aren’t you?” she hurled at Freya. By then mascara was running down her cheeks.

  Fitzgerald cast a worried glance in the rearview mirror, then said in a bright voice, “Look, you must all try this,” saving the day. He nodded to a roadside bar and began to slow the taxi. “Look, we have freshly baked bread. It’s baked in a stone oven. Then you get a grapefruit leaf tea or cocoa tea. Trust me, once you try that, you’ll forget all your problems. Sit by the roadside bar, feel the breeze in your face, listen to the music, talk. Nothing better than that.”

  “Sounds like heaven,” India hurried to say, eager to defuse the argument.

  Apart from a few grudging mumbles, the disagreement seemed to die down. When Fitzgerald pulled the taxi up at the side of the road, where a cute roadside bar was perching on a hillside, overlooking the sea, everyone got out without too much drama.

  Soon they were all on stools, tucking into the Creole bread, which truly was delicious. India had opted for a cocoa tea, being a lover of all things chocolate, while Xavier had gone for the grapefruit tea. Of course they took sips of each others to taste.

  “This really is as good as you said it was, Fitzgerald,” India said, kicking her legs and rocking slightly to the relaxing music coming from the speakers. “I feel like I’m in another world.”