Dotty did mention that Carl still had trouble staying out of casinos and gambling halls, which may also have spurred her to send Sally to eastern Europe for the holidays. Alone, he might have faltered and gone gambling. From what Lana had read, casinos were abundant in the cities they were visiting.
Lana hoped Sally would be able to keep him under control so she didn’t have to. From what she recalled, Carl was a big man, and not one she wanted to have to try to rein in.
Regardless of his bad habits, Lana was glad Carl was here. There was no way she could lead this group of strangers around a foreign city without some help.
6 Welcome to Budapest
Lana rechecked her makeup and hair for the fifth time, uncertain as to how formal this dinner was going to be. Her ex-husband’s idea of fancy was shrimp and steak on the same plate. She hoped her dress was appropriate for the evening. She didn’t have much in her closet that qualified as formal wear, except for the dresses she’d worn as a magician’s assistant. Seeing how The Great Ronaldo’s show had a Roaring Twenties theme, her costumes were primarily flapper dresses and chunky, strapped heels. She had brought the dress with the least amount of sequins, hoping it wouldn’t be too conspicuous.
Lana had spent the past hour studying the group’s travel itinerary. Tomorrow looked to be a busy day. She hoped that she’d be able to recall all the details during her welcome speech. Ten minutes before the dinner officially began, Lana smoothed down her dress and made her way upstairs.
When the elevator doors opened, Lana was treated to a panoramic view of Pest. The neo-Gothic Parliament Building, with its multitude of white spires surrounding a massive red dome, dominated the waterfront. The many towers and decorative pinnacles reminded Lana of icicles. The restaurant was a large neoclassical space with arched doorways and delicate flowers molded onto the ceiling. The chandeliers were made of hundreds of crystals, glistening and twinkling as the air moved. Lana’s group had a private dining room reserved towards the back. On the ceiling of their private dining hall were cherubs playing lutes, flutes, and harps for a woman in flowing robes, resting on a fluffy cloud.
Five older ladies already occupied a large circular table in the center of her group’s private hall. These were the widowers – and the reason Lana had to add gray highlights to her hair. She sucked up her courage and headed over to their table, a smile already planted firmly on her lips.
As she approached, Lana noticed that they all had the same short and extensively layered haircut, colored the same rusty-brown hue. They must all use the same hairstylist, she thought, wishing they did not. It was so much harder to tell them apart this way. And she was so bad with names, as it was. Upon closer examination, Lana realized they all were wearing comfortable pants, no-nonsense blouses, and walking shoes. Lana was certain they had all brought sturdy and practical jackets with them, as well.
“Hello, ladies, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Lana Hansen. I’ll be replacing Gerta, the guide who was hospitalized.”
“Well, bless me. Dotty did send an older replacement. I told you girls she would. Dotty is always looking out for us.” The speaker was a touch plumper than the rest and wearing the brightest shade of red lipstick Lana had ever seen. From her boisterous tone, she was clearly the leader of the group.
The woman’s words stopped Lana in her tracks. How old do I look? she wondered. I didn’t put that much gray in my hair.
The speaker must have noticed the astonishment on Lana’s face. “Time ages us all differently, dear.” She patted Lana’s hand. “You’ve still got a great figure.”
Lana’s eyes widened in humiliation as she gulped down a snarky comeback. “Ah, thanks. I just wanted to introduce myself and see whether you needed anything before dinner is served.” Lana started backing away automatically, praying more guests would arrive so she didn’t have to entertain this bunch. Her ego couldn’t handle many more potshots.
“Don’t pay any attention to Frieda. She doesn’t realize how blunt she can be. She doesn’t mean any harm,” the frailest-looking of the bunch responded in a gently teasing tone. A wooden walking stick leaned against her chair.
Frieda glared at her companion yet said nothing.
“It is nice to meet you, Lana. We are all glad you were able to interrupt your holiday to help us enjoy Budapest. I’m Sara. I might need your arm now and again. The streets are pretty icy, and my hip replacement surgery was only three months ago. I don’t want to mess it up again.”
“Of course. I’m happy to lend you a hand.”
“I’m Nicole,” said the shortest of the bunch as she leaned over to shake Lana’s hand.
“Julia,” said the woman sitting next to her, as if answering roll call.
“I’m Rebecca,” said the last, “but you can call us the Fabulous Five if it’s easier.”
Lana choked back her shock, snorting instead.
“Bless you, Lana,” Sara said.
“Though we might not be the Fabulous Five for long. Doris’s husband has been in and out of the hospital all winter. When Doris joins the club, we are changing our name to the ‘Sexy Six,’” Rebecca responded, her many bracelets jangling as she pounded her fist on the table.
“Nothing’s been decided, Rebecca,” Nicole snapped.
“All I know is that ‘Fabulous Five’ is far better than the ‘Fetching Four.’ I hated that name,” Julia grumbled.
“We are so glad you joined us last year, Sara,” Frieda said, patting her friend’s hand.
“I enjoy traveling with you, too. I only wish that my husband’s dying wasn’t a prerequisite for joining this group,” Sara groused.
Frieda shrugged. “Rules are rules.”
“Could you send a waiter over? We’d like to eat our dinner now,” Julia asked. “There’s no sense in waiting on the rest. They always show up late. I swear, all we’ve been doing this whole tour is waiting on the others.”
“No problem,” Lana said, her tone self-assured as she searched in vain for a waiter. “I’ll go ask one to come over and take your order. Give me a moment.” Lana strode away confidently, despite the fact that she had no idea where the massive restaurant’s kitchen was. She headed towards a tuxedoed man holding a tray of empty glasses.
“Could you send a waiter over to our section? My guests would like to order. I can help pour drinks, if it would speed things up.”
The waiter smiled easily. “Sure, go through those double doors over there. On the right you will find someone to take your group’s order.” He sped off before she could thank him.
Lana did as suggested, and sure enough, she was back with a waiter and water pitcher in no time.
Another table was now occupied. It was the middle-aged couple who didn’t want to be disturbed in the whirlpool. Now they were elegantly dressed, and based on the wife’s snooty expression, they obviously were accustomed to being waited on.
Lana began to fill the Fabulous Five’s water glasses while the waiter took their orders, when the woman from the whirlpool said, “Excuse me, we are waiting to order.”
Lana groaned internally. From the haughty angle of the wife’s chin, Lana knew the woman was going to be a pain in her backside on this trip. Remembering her promise to Dotty – happy clients equal five-star reviews – Lana walked over to the table with her brightest smile already in place.
“Hello and welcome to Budapest. I am Lana. I’ll be helping Carl with the rest of this tour. And you are?”
“Hungry. What’s taking the waiter so long?” the woman responded while flicking the folded napkin into her lap.
Her husband laughed heartily. “Don’t mind my wife. It’s the jet lag. We would love to see the menu.” Of course, thought Lana, this is Helen and Tom Roberts, Dotty’s last-minute additions. The ones who received such a significant discount.
“Great, I’ll bring one over,” Lana said, as she walked towards the kitchen. Helen called her back. “We want to order an aperitif first. That’s what it means – before food.” The
woman’s tone was the same an adult used with a small child. “You know what? It’s almost New Year’s Eve. Bring us a bottle of champagne.”
“Of course. I’ll let the waiter know. But I want to make sure you understand that only wine and beer are included in the tour price,” Lana said, keeping her tone deferential.
Tom went white as Lana spoke, then raised his finger as if to protest his wife’s order.
Helen clicked her tongue at her husband and locked eyes with Lana. “What are you waiting for?” she hissed.
Lana scurried off to the kitchen. She hadn’t thought every guest was going to be a sweetheart, but she sure hoped the others weren’t as conceited as that woman.
When the waiter brought a bottle of Budapest’s finest bubbly, he made a show of popping the cork and letting Helen sniff it before pouring them both glasses. Helen seemed at ease with an expensive drink in her hand. She threw back that first glass in one gulp and signaled for the waiter to refill it. Her husband looked as if he was going to be sick.
Soon two more guests arrived, an older couple both dressed impeccably in muted greens and browns. They must be the Hendersons, Lana thought, veering off to shake their hands.
“Welcome to Budapest. I hope you’re doing well. I’m Lana Hansen, I’ll be taking Gerta’s place on the tour. Can I get you anything? A drink or bread basket?”
Mrs. Henderson looked to her husband, a puzzled look on her face.
Her husband leaned into her ear and yelled, “She’s the new guide. Lana.”
Harold turned to Lana. “Hello, it’s good to meet you. I’m Harold, and this is Margret. You’ll have to excuse my wife. Her hearing aids got crushed in transit to Vienna, and we haven’t been able to get them fixed. I’m afraid she can’t hear well without them. You’ll have to speak up when you want her to answer.”
“Oh, okay, no problem, Mr. Henderson,” Lana said, knowing she would never be able to address them by their first names. “Can I get you a drink, Mrs. Henderson?”
“Yes, please. Two martinis.”
“Coming up,” Lana said loudly while nodding and giving her two thumbs up.
“Thank you, young lady. Say, Dotty said you were able to come over and fill in at the last minute. That was sure nice of you. But doesn’t your husband mind you being here, instead of with him on New Year’s Eve?”
Mr. Henderson’s question was innocent enough, but it felt like another gut punch. “I’m not married, so that’s not an issue,” she responded and started to walk away.
“It’s never too late to tie the knot. We’ve had our share of ups and downs. But in your twilight years, you realize how important it is to have someone to love,” Mr. Henderson said, then yelled into his wife’s ear, “Life is better together.”
Mrs. Henderson planted a wet kiss on her husband’s cheek. “Darn tootin’!”
When the doors opened again, Lana hoped it was Carl coming to help. She still hadn’t seen him and wasn’t certain what she was supposed to say to the group. Instead, it was another guest, the skinny-dipper with long black hair.
The new guest glanced around the room, then made a beeline for the last empty table. Lana wasn’t sure what to do. She assumed Carl and Sally would want to share that one. According to the seating arrangements, the woman was technically part of the old ladies’ group. Yet judging from her age and clothes, the twenty-something probably wouldn’t enjoy dining with them. Lana thought of asking Helen and Tom whether the latest addition could join them, but one look at the wife and Lana decided to leave them be.
Instead she walked up to the young woman. “Hi, I’m Lana. I’ll be escorting the Wanderlust group for the rest of this tour. You are welcome to sit here, but there will be another couple joining you shortly. There is also a place set for you at that table,” Lana said as she gestured towards the older ladies. They all waved back. “Dinner will be out shortly. Would you like a drink first? Perhaps a beer or wine?”
The young woman looked annoyed. “Is Carl here?”
“Yes,” Lana said, caught off-guard. “He is still part of the tour. I’m taking Gerta’s place, the guide who was hospitalized. I imagine Carl will be here shortly.” At least Lana hoped he would be here soon. Where was he?
Lana had assumed he would have arrived early to dinner, as she had, to help get the guests settled. But maybe that had been Gerta’s task. Dotty had made clear that Carl’s primary responsibility was the logistics – getting the guests and their luggage from one location to the next – but not escorting the daily tours. That was Lana’s job. The meals were a gray area they had yet to discuss.
How she wished that she and Carl could have chatted before dinner started. She had knocked on his door several times, but hadn’t gotten a response. And she didn’t dare knock on Sally’s door. If Carl was in there, she did not want to disturb the lovebirds. Sally had arrived a few hours before Lana did, and she could imagine they would want some time alone before joining the group.
Truth be told, Lana really didn’t need Carl’s help right now, other than for moral support. Still, it would have been nice to chat first, as colleagues, before Lana sprung into the deep end. Dotty had given her a thick dossier containing the schedule for each day, with names and telephone numbers of the local guides and operators. She had used the same companies for the past five years running, so Lana didn’t expect any hiccups. But she still wanted to confirm their tour itinerary with Carl at some point this evening.
The young woman smiled broadly. “Well, then I’ll have a daiquiri.”
“Okay, I’ll ask the waiter to bring one over. Do you mind if I ask your name?” Lana asked.
“Jess.”
“Great, I’ll be right back.” Lana walked to the kitchen, a puzzled frown on her face. Why the heck was this pretty young thing alone during the holidays and on a trip meant for older, rich Seattleites? When she had read that the girl’s mother booked this trip as a Christmas present, she had envisioned a dowdy young thing, too shy to have found a partner to spend the holidays with. This girl looked ready to go clubbing in her skin-tight pencil skirt, spiky heels, and silver glitter top. Her sequins sparkled in the light, outshining those on Lana’s dress. The girl’s hair was a mass of curls and hairspray. She was a gorgeous young woman; it was only too bad about her arrogant attitude. But then, a girl who looked like that was probably used to getting what she wanted.
When Lana returned from the kitchen, daiquiri in hand, she was relieved to see Carl entering the restaurant, with Sally on his arm. Sally looked radiant in her high-collared black dress, her curly blond hair extending over her shoulders.
As they approached, Lana noticed that Carl’s normally neatly pressed clothes were rumpled, as if he had slept in them or gotten dressed in a hurry. The skin under his left eye was a deep blue, as if he had been recently punched, though he had clearly tried to cover it up with foundation that had smeared. When she looked closer, she realized Sally’s curly blonde hair was frizzier than normal and her dress’s many buttons weren’t done up correctly.
“Sorry we were late,” Sally announced to the group with a giggle. “Carl and I had some catching up to do.” Carl looked towards the ceiling.
Sally broke free from his arm and enveloped Lana in a bear hug. “Hi Lana, it’s great to see you. Dotty told me you were her saving angel. I am so glad you didn’t have any other plans. Otherwise poor Carl would have to do everything, and we wouldn’t be able to spend so much time together!”
Lana reddened, again reminded of her status as recently single in a painful way. Sally didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she released Lana and announced, “We will take a bottle of their best champagne. Carl and I have something to celebrate.”
Sally thrust her left hand into Lana’s face. Around her plump ring finger rested a large diamond surrounded by a plethora of tiny sparkly ones.
“Carl just proposed.”
The Fabulous Five and Hendersons clapped heartily. Carl looked sheepishly around the room, nodding in respo
nse to the congratulations.
Jess threw her napkin onto her plate and stormed out of the room.
“I guess she wasn’t hungry,” Sally quipped, seeming to be completely unaware that her fiancé followed Jess with his eyes, a desperate, pleading look in them.
To Lana, it seemed as if Carl wanted to be anywhere but here. This was not the charismatic man she remembered from Dotty’s parties. What was going on? Lana wondered. When she and her now ex-husband announced their engagement, they were giddy to the point of irritating others. Lana couldn’t help but be curious. Investigative journalism had trained her to read people’s body language and read between the lines of what they were saying. She hoped for Sally’s sake it was just cold feet that Carl was experiencing.
“Congratulations, Carl.” Tom raised a glass of champagne, in his honor.
Carl turned to face him, apparently noticing Tom for the first time. “What are you doing here?” Carl whispered as his face drained of color.
Helen’s brow furrowed as she looked at Carl, then her husband.
“Thank you,” Sally gushed, clasping her hands together. “Carl is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s the love of my life. I feel like a princess.”
“He’s a real prince, alright,” Tom responded with a laugh.
Helen looked at her husband as if he was crazy. “Do you know him?” she asked. Tom ignored her and polished off his champagne.
Lana showed Sally and Carl to their seats. “Thanks for coming over at such short notice, Lana,” Carl said.
“No problem at all. I’m happy to help Dotty out and see Budapest. Hey, are you alright? Did you go skibobbing, too?” Lana asked, pointing at his blackened eye.
“Oh, we got a little rambunctious, and he ran into a door,” Sally tittered, making Lana blush. Moments later, the waiter brought over a log-shaped pastry and set it between Sally and Carl. “For the happy couple,” he said demurely.
Death on the Danube Page 4
