Yes, everything was on track. One more night in La Casa Rosa and they would be back on board the cruise ship and headed to Miami. Even if old Señora Delores and her mop bucket made another appearance, they would all survive.
This is what Kitty repeated to herself as she stood with her tour group in the bright Havana sunshine. And yet, she knew, deep down in the place where she was most honest, that Chica was never wrong. Death was on the way, and it did not care about Kitty Swift’s schedule. It was coming to call on one of them and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Chapter Three
“The connections we make in the course of a life--maybe that's what heaven is.”
― Fred Rogers
“Goodness. I thought I was a power shopper, but I’m pooped.” Elaine sank onto a bench outside the shopping center. Penny settled in beside her, a hand on Toto’s harness.
“We couldn’t keep up with you,” Kitty said, nodding at Chica. Even with a double shot of espresso after lunch, Kitty felt herself dragging. Chica still had plenty of energy, of course, evidenced by her laser-like focus on the pedestrians passing by.
“I didn’t really need any of this, but I felt an obligation to visit every shop and buy something small,” Elaine said.
“Why is that?” Betty asked, sitting on the next bench and sliding off her sandals. She was surrounded by bags, but Kitty didn’t know how many were hers, and how many were related to the lists of items requested by her friends back in Iowa. The early start to the day was clearly catching up with Eldrick and Thor who yawned in unison.
“It would take a lifetime for most Cubans to buy any of those items,” Elaine said. “Did you notice how nobody was buying anything except the tourists? I heard most of the salespeople survive on commissions and I can’t imagine that they make very much at all.”
“It’s true,” Victor said. He looked irritated, but that might have been simply because he’d recently escaped an hours-long shopping expedition. Twinkle blinked her brown eyes up at him, sensing the aggravation in his signing. “Most Cubans make thirty to fifty dollars a month. I saw polo shirts in there that cost a hundred and fifty dollars. No one here is spending three months’ wages on a shirt, forget about the luxury watches.”
“Yes, amor, but at least they have the option. It’s a very large step for a Communist company to be so open to capitalism.” Lola tucked a hand through her husband’s arm.
Kitty silently agreed with all of them. Although the cruise ships docked along the Mexican coast, she’d never seen such a startling contrast between local poverty and the tourist areas. She gazed up at the building that housed the brand new shopping center, La Manzana de Gómez. The white stone facade looked like something straight out of a large European capital city and it was certainly a jewel in Old Havana, but whether any Cubans had the funds to buy a single item from the mall was doubtful.
“Well, I had a wonderful time,” Brooke signed cheerily after setting her bags on the sidewalk next to her sister Katie’s haul. Their service dog, Jackie, sat at her feet, looking ready for a nap. “I know I can go to a Macy’s right in Miami, but I found a lace dress that was definitely hand made. So, at least they’re supporting local craftsmen here.”
Kitty hoped that was true. Cuba had a tradition of not hiring outside workers, but she wasn’t sure that was still the case. The dress could have come from any number of places and then relabeled for the tourists. It was hard to know for sure.
“What about you, Kitty?” Elaine asked. “I’m afraid we kept you too busy translating. You didn’t buy a single thing.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I will always find a way to shop if I want to.” She’d rather read, honestly. She’d even brought along Treasure Island, but there hadn’t been a calm moment during the mad dash through the luxury stores.
Shopping wasn’t one of her passions. Now, if Bingo had been offered, Kitty suspected her tour group would have had to manage on their own. She couldn’t resist a game of chance, and it was a very good thing that their luxury cruise ship only offered it during certain hours.
They were all still watching her, as if waiting for more, so Kitty added, “I’m on the move so much, I try to not to have too many possessions.”
“Except a whole bookstore,” Penny corrected.
“Well, yes, but books don’t count, do they? Especially if they’re all for sale.” Kitty felt herself blush. She wasn’t trying to sound spiritually superior because she didn’t have many personal possessions. She hadn’t always been that way. When she was preparing for a home and a family with the man she loved, Kitty had spent hundreds of hours tracking down just the right side table and comparing china patterns. She loved antiques, and he preferred modern designs. She loved bright colors, and he preferred white on white. Then one day he’d announced he was in love with her best friend, and Kitty had realized furnishings weren’t really important in the grand scheme of things.
For years afterward, she’d been perfectly happy with just her centuries’ old colonial with its flagstone floor, drafty rooms, and leather-bound books. Her life seemed more than full. She had Chica, two black cats, a graduate student who watched the store, and a wonderful job. Leander’s arrival in her life certainly changed her perspective, but so far, Kitty still wasn’t ready to purchase anything that she couldn’t carry with her.
Kitty looked up to see Penny watching her, a curious expression on her lined face. Forcing a smile, Kitty knew that the old woman had experienced enough life to recognize a person who was avoiding a situation that caused her pain.
A large white cargo van turned the corner and pulled up to the curb. The review mirror on the right side was cracked, and the bumper hung at an awkward angle. Sabrina slid from the passenger seat and Chica turned her full attention to the tour guide.
“Please put all of your bags in the back of the van. They will be taken to the hotel, then to the ship.” She looked more composed than she had at the restaurant, but her normally brusque tone had been replaced by a gentler, more patient demeanor. Maybe she’d had a change of heart and realized her tour group deserved a little more time and attention.
Kitty translated for the group and they started to gather their bags.
The driver walked around the van to open the back doors and Kitty swallowed a gasp. It was the man in the light blue suit from earlier that morning. There was no mark on his face where Sabrina had slapped him, so she must not have hit him as hard as it had appeared. He met Kitty’s eyes and flashed a smile.
So maybe it had been a lovers’ quarrel, like Victor had said. Kitty couldn’t imagine what scenario would prompt anyone to throw wads of cash at their significant other, but then again, there had been a time when she’d contemplated throwing plenty of items at her ex-fiancé.
“Shouldn’t we get some kind of receipt? Or maybe a collection tag?” Brooke asked, not letting go of her bags as Kitty translated her question.
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course,” Sabrina said, as if it had just occurred to her. “We’ll make sure everything is itemized and tagged at the hotel before it goes to the ship.”
Lola motioned for Victor to help her pass their bags into the back of the van. Victor took a long look at the young man as he handed them over. The rest of the group lined up to do the same and Kitty waited on the sidewalk until the last parcel was stowed away.
Something didn’t feel right, but Kitty wasn’t sure what she could do about it. Sabrina was their official government guide and they were supposed to trust her like a cruise ship employee. Refusing to let the man in the blue suit take their purchases back to the hotel would likely set off a chain reaction of awkward questions, offended parties, and at the worst, a minor international incident.
“Our transportation back to the hotel should be along at any moment,” Sabrina said. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and raised her chin. Kitty had the sudden feeling of watching someone playing a role. Perhaps she was putting on the air of a woman who had better clients wa
iting because it gave her the appearance of being in demand when in fact she was the least liked of all the guides.
Finally, all the packages were loaded into the back and the white cargo van pulled away from the curb. Sabrina watched it leave and Kitty saw her shoulders relax. Whatever was between them, Sabrina wasn’t comfortable around the man, but that probably had something to do with the face-slapping incident hours before.
As the others took up their previous spots on the benches, Sabrina glanced at Kitty and Chica. “No shopping for you?”
“Not really, no,” Kitty said with a smile. She wished she’d brought her hat. The afternoon sun was merciless.
“You travel a lot?”
“Yes, a few weeks out of the month, depending on what the director of the touring company has on the schedule.” Kitty wondered if Sabrina was considering a job with the cruise ships. She’d have a rude awakening when it came to adhering to a schedule. It was probably better for the young woman to stay where being a few hours late wasn’t going to get her fired.
“Oh, so you don’t own the business?”
“No, I’m just an employee.” Kitty herself had never been more glad to not be the owner of the tour company. Explaining to Sabrina why she wouldn’t consider her as an employee wouldn’t have been fun at all.
“But… even as a worker, you have a lot of freedom?” Sabrina checked her watch and peered around the square, watching for their ride.
“It depends on what you mean by freedom.” Kitty decided not to mince words. “Nobody tells me what to do, exactly, but I must be on time. Also, despite traveling to beautiful and exotic places, my first priority is always the tour members.”
Sabrina nodded, not looking at her. She didn’t seem phased by the idea of being on time. “But you make decisions for the group. Your boss isn’t watching you all the time.”
“Well, no.” Kitty took a chance and said, “Is your boss the driver of the van? Or the man at the restaurant today?”
Sabrina turned to her, eyes wide. “Who? No, no. My boss is Joachim Jimenez. He is very busy, of course, so he sends helpers.”
Chica nudged Kitty’s knee, eyes fixed on Sabrina. Kitty felt a rush of frustration. Yes, she knew something strange was going on, and Chica was doing her best to let her know that someone was in mortal danger. But who? And how? It would be a lot more helpful if Chica could simply explain what had her psychic feelers tingling.
A large blue passenger van pulled up to the curb and Sabrina rushed forward to open the sliding door. As the tour group found their seats, Penny and Elaine settled ahead of Kitty. After a few moments, Elaine tapped Kitty on the shoulder.
“By the pricking of my thumbs,” she signed.
Something wicked this way comes. Kitty wanted to smile at Elaine’s Macbeth quote but she couldn’t manage it. “Probably just cultural differences,” she said.
Penny shook her head. “I’ve been perfecting my side-eye this trip. Something is going to happen. I can feel it.”
“Maybe it’s the heat and the lack of sleep,” Kitty said.
“Could be. Someone might snap and murder that woman in a fit of insomnia-fueled rage.”
“Sabrina?”
“No, Penny meant Señora Delores. But I might be tempted to slip some pepper juice in Sabrina’s contact case if I was given the opportunity.” Elaine paused to hold the back of the seat in front of her as the van turned a sharp corner. “I don’t mind a little lateness. I’m no slave to the clock, but I get the impression she really doesn’t like us. I thought it was just a bad case of the Mondays, but we’re way past that now.”
“I’m sure she likes you,” Kitty said. “And even if she doesn’t, when have either of you cared whether someone likes you? Let’s not foist our insecurities on her.” She smiled to soften her words, but inwardly she knew they were right in their assessment.
“I disagree,” Penny said. “Insecurities are meant to be foisted.”
“Aye. Here’s foisting.” Elaine pretended to lift a drink toward Sabrina who sat in the front passenger seat. “She could at least pretend not to hate us. You always do such an excellent job of that.”
Kitty swallowed back a laugh, “I’ve never pretended to like anyone. Especially you two. You’re my favorite tour members, ever. Hands down.”
They both beamed at her. Even Toto raised her head and grinned at Kitty as if she understood what they’d been discussing.
“Only because that young man of yours was never a tour member,” Penny said.
Kitty knew she’d probably regret it, but she said, “He’s not mine. Also, he’s on his way, actually. There are some meetings at the embassy and he thought it would be nice to swing by while we’re here.” She waited for their expressions of gleeful surprise. Instead, they both looked alarmed.
“So, we’re right. You’ve called him to come assist in your investigation.”
“What investigation?” Kitty threw her hands up in frustration as the van slowed to a stop outside La Casa Rosa. “I think we all need to just get through the next day. When we’re safely back on the ship, we’ll have a good laugh about this.”
“Doubtful,” Penny said, her expression somber. “But I do feel much better knowing Starling is joining Swift. With you two on our side, the bad guys don’t have a chance. Maybe you can stop the murder from happening instead of just catching a killer.”
Kitty shook her head and started to protest, but they were already gathering up their purses. Toto looked as if she would like to apologize for their stubbornness.
As they filed through the archway into the lobby of the hotel, Kitty was thankful they had a few hours before meeting up for dinner. She planned to kick off her shoes, flop onto the too-firm mattress, and try to recoup some of the sleep lost by Señora Delores’ unwelcome visitations. Soon, Leander would be there and maybe they would both realize that Chica’s behavior had nothing to do with murder or death at all. They would have a wonderful time exploring Old Havana and everyone would be okay.
This was what Kitty told herself as she and Chica took a head count to make sure the happy tour members were safe at the end of their shopping expedition. But somewhere under her hopeful mantra, there was a line from Treasure Island that echoed in her head. She’d read it earlier that morning and even as the words had sifted through her tired brain, the passage seemed to attached itself to the knot of tension she’d been carrying around.
Laugh, by thunder. Laugh! Before an hour's out, ye'll laugh upon the other side. Them that die'll be the lucky ones.
Kitty never wanted to be one of those pessimistic people who always prepared for the worst, but she was fairly sure her lovely Cuban vacation was going to be turned into a murder investigation all too soon, and the living were going to bear the brunt of the ugliness.
Chapter Four
“We are born in one day. We die in one day. We can change in one day. And we can fall in love in one day. Anything can happen in just one day.”
― Gayle Forman
As Kitty finished counting the returning tour members, Sabrina rushed to the front desk. She spoke to Leya, the clerk, in hushed tones. After a tense conversation, Sabrina turned without a word and left the lobby. Kitty watched her stride down the bright blue hallway toward the kitchens and hoped that whatever drama was brewing would stay suppressed until they were back on the ship.
Leya glared at Sabrina’s retreating figure, and after forcing a smile back on her face, came forward to greet them. In her mid-twenties, she seemed to be the polar opposite of Sabrina. Always dressed conservatively, with a pressed white shirt, knee length red skirt and red flats, she oozed professionalism. Calm, punctual, and warmly welcoming, Leya always made Kitty rethink the negatives of La Casa Rosa. She illustrated the truism that good staff was as important as location and price. Maybe more so.
“Miss Swift, there is a message for you,” she said, and handed Kitty a slip of pink paper.
Penny and Elaine perked up, watching eagerly. Kitty wonder
ed if there was any way she could meet Leander alone, rather than in front of a curious crowd. She loved the older ladies, but they’d probably been scoping out wedding venues and arguing over who got to name the children.
Kitty barely had time to scan the words before she looked up to see Leander walking toward them.
“Penny? Elaine?” Leander signed. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Of course. You can’t keep us prodigals in the piggy pen forever,” Elaine responded, not bothering to ask before giving him a big hug. “Oh, you smell delicious.”
Penny followed, taking the time to inhale deeply against the front of his shirt. “Indeed you do. Women can’t resist a handsome man in a nice suit. Smelling good is overkill, you know.”
Leander didn’t seem embarrassed at all by their comments. He smiled at Kitty, but she stood frozen to the spot, suddenly feeling all the awkwardness of the moment rushing in at once. Texting was so much simpler. She could flirt, make jokes, and ask him to fly to another country without so much as a twinge of discomfort. But now that he was standing in front of her, she was paralyzed.
As if sensing her discomfort, he bent down and held out his hands for Chica. Service dogs weren’t allowed to socialize with strangers while on duty, but he wasn’t really a stranger, and Chica wasn’t exactly on duty. She rushed forward to greet him, tail wagging wildly and her tongue lolling out. After licking him thoroughly, she returned to Kitty’s side and regained her usually dignified air.
“I missed you,” Leander signed to her.
“Oh. Good,” Kitty responded. “I mean, I’m sorry.”
“But you’re smiling,” he pointed out. Turning to Penny and Elaine, he said, “She looks happy to hear that, doesn’t she?”
Kitty started to laugh. How strange it all was. She missed him so much sometimes that it felt like a sharp pain in her ribs, but she was overjoyed that he might miss her at all. It was all a little confusing.
Chaos in Cuba Page 3
