Chaos in Cuba

by M. J. Mandrake

  Kitty stepped forward to give him a hug. He did smell very nice but she made sure not to inhale too deeply. What was charming in the elderly ladies was probably creepy at Kitty’s age.

  “Where are you staying?” Kitty asked.

  “I was thinking of staying here, if they have an opening.”

  “Wonderful idea,” Penny said.

  “You can stay in our room,” Elaine said. “Penny and I can share a bed. We don’t snore, either. Well, I don’t snore. She―”

  “Let me ask.” Kitty hurried to the counter. She’d been forced to share a restless night with Leander during their second investigation, but she didn’t think he wanted to repeat the experience with Penny and Elaine.

  As Kitty waited at the counter, she glanced back at the trio. Leander had grown up with deaf parents but kept his fluency in ALS from the two older women during a previous investigation. They’d caught on eventually, of course, since they had powers of observation that rivaled Chica’s.

  Leya was her usually efficient self, and within minutes she’d arranged for Leander to take the last available room on their floor.

  “You go ahead and show him up,” Elaine said, giving Kitty a wink.

  Ignoring her, Kitty nodded and waved him toward the stairs.

  “What a beautiful old building,” he said, shouldering his carry on. “I’ve always wanted to visit Havana.” He turned to her, a smile spreading over his face. The light from the window at the end of the hallway caught the bright blue in his eye, and made the other look even greener. “Maybe we can take a walk around the old square, or even visit the St. Francis of Assisi monastery. It’s a museum now and has a beautiful 19th century Tiffany clock…”

  He paused, looking down at Chica. “I’m getting way ahead of myself. I came here because of Chica’s suspicions but all I can think of is exploring the city with you.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Kitty said. Dropping her voice she said, “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe we’ll just have a nice day or so in Old Havana, and nothing bad will happen at all.”

  “That would be wonderful,” he said. Leaning forward, he kissed her softly.

  Kitty felt every millisecond of the kiss with a pure joy, but also fought the impulse to jump away. First kisses were always memorable, but first kisses after you’ve had your heart broken were in a category altogether: part hope, part terror.

  Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered, “Trouble, trouble, go away. Come again some other day.”

  Kitty started to laugh. He was always a surprise.

  “So, I have to ask,” he said, leaning back and gazing into her eyes.

  She felt the closeness of the moment evaporate. Would he ask about her romantic history? Maybe why she had never married? Or whether she wanted children? A dozen questions flashed through her mind and she steeled herself. She’d try to answer him honestly, of course, but she hated the emotions it brought to the surface. He was poking a sore spot. She’d been perfectly happy by herself, with no expectations and no complications. She never had to worry about fitting into someone else’s schedule for her life.

  “Yes?” she asked. Involving another person in her simple existence suddenly seemed impossible. How could she still leave for weeks at a time if someone was left at home? She loved her job. She wasn’t ready to give everything up to make a home with someone else. Besides, how could she ever spend another long evening with Chica dozing by the fire? How could another person ever think happiness was fighting her kitties for the most comfortable chair and losing herself in a book she’d read a dozen times before?

  Leander said, “Which book did you bring on the trip? I’m going to guess ‘To Have and To Have Not’ by Hemingway. Graham Greene’s ‘Our Man in Havana’ is a classic but maybe it’s too new for your tastes.”

  It took Kitty several seconds to switch gears. “Treasure Island,” she said. “I’m not really a Hemingway fan, but I do love a little Graham Greene every now and then.”

  He grinned. “Many’s the night I’ve dreamed of cheese― toasted, mostly.”

  Kitty threw her arms around his neck, startling both him and Chica, who let out a soft whoooooffff, the sound she made when she knew she wasn’t allowed to bark. Kitty didn’t know if Chica was expressing surprise or warning Leander that Kitty had apparently lost her mind.

  He wrapped his arms around her and she could feel him laughing. “Well,” he said into her hair, “if I’d known a good quote would get me this kind of reaction, I’d have done it a lot more often.”

  After a few moments, Kitty let go of him. Her face was warm. “I’m just happy you asked about my book.”

  “Oh,” he said, looking bemused. “Were you expecting something else? A passport check? Or perhaps a request to ferry back a crate of banned Cuban cigars?”

  “Of course not,” she said, laughing. “It’s just…” Banned cigars. The laughter died in her throat. Maybe that was what Sabrina and the man in the light blue suit were up to. Instead of stealing the luxury goods the tour members had bought, they were sneaking in something else.

  Leander was waiting for her to finish her sentence. Looking around, she thought of how thin the walls were and wondered if any of the servants were nearby. Unlocking her door, she gestured for him to follow her. Chica padded after them, and settled on the floor at the foot of the bed.

  Once inside, Kitty took a deep breath and quietly filled him in on Sabrina’s odd behavior, the fight in the square, and the money she’d thrown out the car window. She described Sabrina’s fear when she’d spotted the balding man at the restaurant, and how the younger man helped her transport the group’s bags despite their argument earlier in the day. “I’m not sure where this fits in, or if it’s related to what Chica’s been sensing. But something really fishy is going on.”

  “Maybe drugs. I’ll definitely have someone check it out before it goes on the ship.” All his playful laughter was gone. “Kitty, if Sabrina is involved in transporting narcotics, you’re all in danger. These people don’t care who gets in their way. They’re ruthless.”

  She nodded. If they were anything like the Mexican cartels, they were worse than ruthless. They were sadistic, and enjoyed sending cruel messages to the victim’s family.

  Running a hand through his hair, he said, “Listen to me explaining how drug dealers are bad people. My sister says I have a terrible habit of mansplaining. Just give me a punch in the arm when I do that, okay?”

  “Oh, it wasn’t as bad as all that,” Kitty said, smiling. She was sure she said just as many obvious things to him. “But your sister sounds pretty smart. Everybody needs someone to keep them from getting too comfortable.”

  “She tries. I think my parents tried to shelter us a little too much, so we had some hard lessons to learn when we went out into the world. Like how we don’t know everything, and we’re not ‘all that’ compared to the rest of the planet.” He was smiling but his tone was serious.

  Kitty nodded, but she thought Leander was kind of ‘all that’ compared to the general population. He certainly wasn’t in the realm of average by any scale. He didn’t seem spoiled, either. Her ex was an only child and wore his privilege like a coat everywhere he went. If you were raised to be first, it was hard to break the habit. At the time, Kitty had liked his assertiveness. Now she realized that she had always been second best and had just accepted it without question.

  Her own parents considered their children almost as an afterthought, and Kitty had navigated most of life’s important steps on her own. Maybe that was better. Maybe it was easier to face heartbreak that way. She wasn’t sure, but she did wish she’d had those years knowing someone was behind her, ready to help her if she’d faltered.

  “Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. Kitty pulled herself back to the conversation. There was something about being with Leander that made her contemplate her past in ways she hadn’t for years.

  “Maybe this isn’t a good time to ask but I’ve been meaning to see if… Maybe i
t’s too soon, but I was wondering if you’d like to meet them.” He looked nervous.

  “Them?”

  “My family.”

  This wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Her fears included Leander losing interest, or prying into her past. She’d even worried about him giving her the ‘just friends” speech after she’d told him she would eventually lose her hearing. She was unprepared for the offer of a face-to-face meeting with blood relatives.

  “We always spend Christmas on a little lake called Solitude Bay. My parents were engaged at the historic inn, and we’ve gone there as a family every holiday since. I’d love it if you could join us.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed hard and tried to gather her thoughts.

  “I mean, it doesn’t even have to be for Christmas. We’re there about a week. You could just… pop in if you’d like.”

  Kitty realized she didn’t know much about his family. He’d mentioned a sister and a mother. Were his grandparents in America? How many siblings did he have? Did he have nieces and nephews? A big crowd might be easier for her to blend into, but it would also mean more people to meet. It had been years since she’d spent Christmas with anyone other than the cruise ship crew or Chica.

  “That’s really nice of you.” She knew he was waiting for some kind of answer and it felt like her brain had melted into a puddle. She really didn’t know what to say. Looking past Leander, she could see the little café from her bedroom window. Couples enjoyed espressos in the sunshine while a flower seller wheeled a cart full of bouquets through the cobblestone square. An old green Ford idled at the corner. She looked closer and saw the balding man at the wheel.

  “Hey, no pressure,” Leander said. “Just think about it and―”

  “Quick! Over there, across the square.” She pointed out the Ford. “I don’t know if he was the driver this morning or not, but that’s definitely the man from the restaurant.”

  “I can see some of the plate,” he said, pulling a notepad and a pen from his suit pocket.

  As they watched, an old woman hobbled down the sidewalk toward the corner. Just as she drew level with the driver’s side window, she pulled a small envelope from her shawl and dropped it into the balding man’s lap. A second later, the car pulled away and was gone.

  “Well, that’s not at all suspicious,” Leander said drily.

  “It gets better,” Kitty said. “That was Señora Delores, the head housekeeper here at La Casa Rosa.”

  Leander said nothing for a few moments. “If they’d simply greeted each other and she’d handed him something, it wouldn’t have been odd at all.”

  “So, either they’re amateurs, or whatever is going on is so dangerous that it’s worth the risk.” Kitty rubbed her temples. A headache was forming. “But why not meet somewhere less populated? If I were going to exchange stolen goods or money or whatever, I’d meet at midnight far away from people who might know me.”

  “Maybe they’re just not very smart?” Leander suggested, smiling.

  “Maybe so.” Kitty hoped that was true. It would be much easier to find out what was going on.

  A knock at the door made Chica stand up and nudge Kitty’s leg.

  “Thanks,” she murmured and went to answer it.

  “We’re so sorry to interrupt,” Penny signed, clearly not sorry. “But Sabrina said she’s going to St. Francis of Assisi church. She says she knows the curator and can get us a private tour. She says we can go all the way up into the bell tower, too. It’s not on the itinerary but we still want to go.”

  “Yes, we were hoping you’d both come along.” Elaine peered through the doorway at Leander.

  “Sabrina suggested it? Or did you ask her to take you?”

  “She knocked on our door and told us she was heading over. And here we thought she didn’t like us.”

  Kitty glanced back at Leander. Sabrina endeavored to do the least amount of work required, but now she was offering impromptu tours? They had to tag along.

  “We were just talking about going there,” he signed, clearly catching Kitty’s look.

  “It’s true. We definitely want to see it.” Kitty looked down at her outfit. It looked a little worse for wear after a full day in the Havana heat. “Give me a few minutes to change, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Perfect.” Elaine beamed. “We can be your chaperones.”

  As Kitty closed the door behind them, she forced back a laugh. Chaperones. Kitty had lived alone for over a decade and answered to no one. She was sure that Leander was just as independent. But there was something charming about the idea of the two elderly ladies keeping an eye on them, eager to stop the hint of any impropriety.

  “Is it wrong to feel touched by their concern for my safety?” Leander asked.

  “I think they’re worried about me, actually.” Kitty knew Penny and Elaine thought the world of Leander, but she couldn’t resist teasing him. “Or maybe they’re hoping to shield Chica from any public displays of affection.”

  “Too late,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist and giving her a kiss.

  Kitty suddenly wished that they hadn’t said yes to the museum tour. If only Sabrina didn’t seem like she was involved in something bad, and Chica was her usual relaxed self. But then Leander wouldn’t be in Havana, anyway.

  Sighing, she said, “I’d better change. These sandals might not be the best choice for the bell tower stairs.”

  “I’ll go drop my bag in the room. Just knock when you’re ready,” he said, and a moment later he was gone.

  She stood motionless for a moment, realizing that she had never answered Leander’s invitation, but also knowing she didn’t have an answer. She liked him. But was she ready to be introduced to his family? From what she knew about them, they were very close. Families like that tended to be protective, and sometimes overprotective. Kitty felt a wave of dread. Even if they were welcoming, her emotional response wasn’t really about them. It was facing the possibility of loving someone again, and getting hurt. It had been ten years, and she was afraid she still wasn’t ready to really start over.

  She couldn’t think about it now. Shrugging off her doubts, she hurried to the little wardrobe where she’d hung her clothes. As Kitty stripped off her clothes and contemplated the outfits available, she wondered what Sabrina might be doing at the museum. If she really was a smuggler, it would be a good place to pick up expensive artifacts.

  Picking out a pink sleeveless dress with a pattern of tiny daisies, Kitty slipped it over her head. Thankful the matching pink flats were her most comfortable shoes, she ran a quick brush through her hair and put it up in a ponytail. As usual, her curls didn’t like the humidity and there wasn’t much more she could do beyond keeping her hair out of her face. A swipe of mascara and lip gloss, and she was ready.

  She turned to see Chica watching her. “Don’t judge. You always look great.”

  Cocking her head, Chica followed Kitty to the door. Just before she opened it, Chica nudged her knee again. It was her “pay attention” movement, the one she used when someone was coming close to her, someone knocked, or there was an interaction Kitty needed to watch. But they were alone.

  Chills ran down her spine. I’m watching, Kitty signed. What she was watching for, she didn’t know, but between herself, Chica, and Leander, she was sure they would be more than equal to whatever was coming.

  Chapter Five

  “We'd stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first.

  You'd think that would make us feel brave and invincible. It didn't.”

  ― Rick Yancey

  “We have to rub his beard for good luck,” Penny insisted, moving toward the statue of El Caballero de Paris. Giving the bronze beard a thorough polish, she moved aside for Elaine to take a turn. The beard had been shined to a bright copper color by superstitious tourists and locals. Toto watched them with the usual bemused expression on her black lab face.

  Kitty glanced at Sabrina to see if she was going to offer an
y information on the statue of José María López Lledín, but the young woman was frowning at the square, then up at the monastery windows as if waiting for someone.

  Kitty took out her guidebook and quickly flipped to the appendix, but before she could share the details, Penny surprised her by signing, “He’s buried in the basilica, you know. Hundreds of years ago, people thought the mentally ill were possessed by demons. If they were gentle enough, sometimes they were revered as blessed fools. I think it’s interesting that in this day and age, he didn’t inspire fear. He only died in the eighties, so maybe things really are changing.”

  Elaine looked less impressed with the local story. “Instead of treating him like a rock star, it would have been better to help him get treatment. Now he’s famous for being the only time a mentally ill homeless man is embraced by wealthy tourists.”

  “Aren’t you going to rub his beard?” Leander asked Kitty.

  “I’m not really the superstitious type,” she said, smiling. That wasn’t exactly true. As a rule, she walked on the side of logic, but there were times she couldn’t help her more superstitious half. When she played Bingo she had several little rituals that she was sure had brought her good luck, and recently, she’d started to think that there was a reason she and Leander had been thrown together. That just maybe, perhaps, it wasn’t just dead bodies.

  Chica was psychic, but that was a fact, not a theory. Believing in her abilities seemed a lot more reasonable than carrying a lucky rabbit’s foot or avoiding cracks in the sidewalk.

  Sabrina checked her phone again and looked around. “A few more minutes,” she murmured.

  Adjusting the brim of her hat, Kitty was thankful she’d remembered it after their time out shopping. Her nose looked a little sunburned, but that was par for the course. There were a few drawbacks to working as a tour guide in the world’s sunniest places, and a perpetually pink nose was one of them. Her lotion had sunscreen in it so her legs managed a nice tan even after all the sun she got walking around. She wiggled her toes in her flats, feeling the heat through the leather soles as the flagstone courtyard radiated the sun’s rays.