“Why didn’t any of you say something?” Leander asked. “Why keep it a secret that you were out there in the night?”
“Because we found a gold coin,” Andrew said. “We didn’t want anyone to know.” He swallowed. “Does that make us accomplices?”
“Obstructing an official investigation sounds about right to me,” Leander said.
“You can’t prove any of this.” Jenny’s eyes were wild. “It’s all circumstantial evidence.”
“Until they get a look at the cuts on your arms. I bet Coleman fought hard. As big as he was, you would have had to take him by surprise.”
Jenny lifted her chin and for a moment, Kitty thought she wouldn’t say anything more. “Isn’t that just like him, though? He never thought anybody would fight back. He was a big bully who always got his own way. Well, guess what. He’s dead and my son will inherit everything he had. So I still win.”
Leander moved forward, pulling a pair of handcuffs from the back of his belt. “I’m arresting you for the murder of Coleman Larson. You have the right to remain―”
The sound of distant screams and shouts came from the dock. They all swiveled to look and Toto took off at a dead run.
Kitty chased after her, calling her name. Something was very wrong.
Please, Lord, not Penny. Not Elaine.
She hadn’t known until that moment how much she had come to see them as friends. Wise, witty, and kind in their own way, Penny and Elaine had lifted her spirits and brought her comfort on the very worst days.
Chica flew past Kitty and raced up the dock, leaping over scuba gear and dodging tourists. Kitty could see the little orange boat that Penny and Elaine had hired to take them out to the reefs. The owner was shouting and waving his arms. People were crowding in, craning their necks.
“El tesoro! El tesoro!” His face was shining with joy and excitement.
Kitty stopped in her tracks. No way. Of all the lucky ducks, they would be the ones to find the treasure.
And then they appeared in front of her, signing like they were across a canyon from her.
“We found it! We knew we would,” Penny said. Her pink cap was askew and her gray hair stuck out from under it on one side.
“Treasure! Sunken treasure!” Elaine hopped on one foot, then the other. “We’re going to donate it all to programs that help disabled children in the public school system. Take that, Senator Larson!”
“Kitty, why are you crying?” Penny reached up and wiped a tear from Kitty’s face.
“Am I?” She started to laugh. “It’s just… I thought. Never mind what I thought. But I should tell you something,” she said, glancing back down the beach where Leander stood next to Jenny and Andrew. Ren was still on his knees, motionless. “You found the treasure, but we caught the killer.”
“Of course you did,” Penny said, patting her arm. “We never doubted you two for a moment.”
Epilogue
Kitty stared down at her favorite reading chair and contemplated the two large, black cats curled around each other. She could move one, and hope the other followed. Or she could try to scoop them both up fast enough to scoot underneath. Or perhaps she could just pull a different chair into the sunny corner where she spent her afternoons reading.
Sighing, she tugged an armchair across the flagstone floor of her old colonial home. Her brother had declared, after visiting once years ago, that she couldn’t have paid him to live in such an ancient place. He said the exposed beams and eight-foot oak interior doors gave him the shivers, like he’d been locked in a medieval castle. Kitty didn’t bother to point out it was seventeenth century colonial, not medieval. Her brother preferred glass and steel architecture. That was fine. She simply had a love for homes that had stood the test of time. It was comforting somehow.
Just as she settled into the red armchair, she realized she’d forgotten her book. Spotting it on the mantelpiece, Kitty snapped it up and headed back to her chair just in time to see Rook and Raven take up residence in it. She smiled. That had worked nicely.
Kitty relaxed into the cushions of the first chair, tucking her feet up underneath her. Chica was snoozing by the fire and had barely twitched an ear as she’d moved the furniture around. She’d earned her rest, and Kitty was loath to disturb her.
She’d barely read half a page when her phone buzzed. Leander had sent her a photo. Kitty snorted with laughter, and then grimaced. It was painfully funny how bad she looked in the selfie they’d taken on the beach.
My favorite, it read.
Kitty zoomed in on her face, and sent it back. Can you see my eye twitching?
Admittedly, it was silly and rather immature. To think she’d been afraid to text him only a few weeks ago, and now they talked all the time.
Did you get my package? It should have arrived today.
She wondered what it could be. Probably a book.
I haven’t checked the mail. Just a second.
She slipped on shoes and headed to the front of the building. There was a mail slot to the side of the door that opened with a key from the outside and the inside. Most of her book deliveries fit neatly into the box. She could see a small shadow through the glass on her side. The mailman had left her a present.
Kitty was already smiling as she unlocked the box and found a small package wrapped in brown paper. Square, like a book. She did love books. Probably Hawthorne. He wasn’t her favorite, but Leander seemed to know him well enough. Actually, he was familiar with most of the classics. It could be anything.
She ripped open the paper and for a moment she thought the pretty wooden frame held a copy of the photo he had just sent by text. It really was a funny picture and looked nothing like her at all. But it wasn’t the same photo. Similar, but not the same. There was Chica, Toto, Leander and Kitty on the beach, and in the background was the Punta Molas lighthouse. But this time it was Leander who looked ridiculous. Kitty started to laugh as she saw how one eye was half closed, his hair blew straight up, and his mouth was open at an odd angle. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor and Kitty stooped to pick it up.
Happiness in this world, when it comes, comes incidentally.
Make it the object of pursuit, and it leads us a wild-goose chase, and is never attained. ―N.H.
Here’s to happiness, my friend.
―Starling
Kitty fairly floated back to a chair by the fireplace. Raven and Rook had repossessed the one she preferred but she didn’t care. Happiness, indeed. She picked up her phone to send a thank you text when she saw there was already a message.
Will you have dinner with me this week? I’ll be near Mérida and would like to see you without any dead bodies involved.
Kitty felt the smile slide from her face. She wanted to say she wouldn’t miss it for the world and that she’d walk there if she had to, but she hesitated. Happiness couldn’t be chased. The more you looked for it, the harder it was to find.
But neither could grief be avoided.
Yes, of course. Chica would be delighted to see you again.
She placed the framed photo on the antique side table. Chica wandered over to give it a good sniff while Kitty flipped open The Scarlet Letter and tried to find her place. Turning the pages of the familiar tale of betrayal, woe, shame, revenge, and eternal judgement, Kitty saw her own life in sharp contrast.
Of all the possible twists in her own story, this was the most surprising: a second chance at happiness.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading the third installment in the Starling and Swift Cozy Mystery Series!
This book was a challenge for me to write because I’ve never had any desire to go scuba diving and don’t spend much time underwater. I’ve gone snorkeling a few times and that was many years ago. So, do you know what that means? Research, and lots of it! Goodness, there were days and days of research. It didn’t always make it into the book (most of it, actually) but I had a wonderful time watching documentaries, reading about the Cozumel re
efs, and visiting treasure hunting sites. I can honestly say that after writing Kitty’s scuba diving adventure, I’d love to go on a scuba trip. Minus the dead bodies, of course!
If you liked this book, be sure to leave a review.
You can find me on facebook at Mary Jane Hathaway. Come on by and chat! I’ve got a new website where I’ll be posting delicious recipes for fall and winter.
Blessings,
Mary Jane Hathaway
Curious how Starling and Swift came to be? Start with the first book, Murder at the Mayan Temple, free!
Have you read the second book, Death on the Wind? You can find it here.
Book Three, Danger at the Dive Shop is a deep sea game of cat and mouse.
If you’re like Kitty and have always wanted to explore Old Town Havana, don’t miss the Fourth Book, Chaos in Cuba.
Book Five, Sabotage on Solitude Bay, is a special edition Christmas mystery set at Leander’s family home in the Florida Keys.
Book Six takes you on a Catalan adventure that ends in a shocking twist: A Scandal in Spain.
Prepare for an ice cold killer in Book Seven, Nightmare Under the Northern Lights.
Big changes―and mortal danger―are in store for Starling and Swift in Book Eight, Terror at the Turtle Sanctuary.
Recipes
Angelina’s Famous Fish Tacos With Cilantro Lime Sauce
(Please hold the poisonous puffer fish.)
Poor Kitty didn’t get to enjoy any of Angelina’s famous fish tacos with cilantro lime sauce. If a killer hadn’t been at the table, she would have discovered it was the most delicious fish taco recipe she’d ever tasted, and would have jotted down the recipe to make at home. Maybe she and Leander will come back some day for a mini-getaway at the dive shop. J
Ingredients:
1 lb breaded and fried fish
6 oz cooked black beans
6 oz fresh cooked corn
four avocados, sliced
two tomatoes, chopped
one small onion, chopped
flour or corn tortillas, soft or fried
Veggie sauce:
2 tsp olive oil
3 tsp honey
4 tsp lime juice
dash of cumin
dash of cayenne pepper
Cream sauce:
2 tsp minced garlic
2 tsp fresh cilantro fresh cilantro
4 tsp lime juice
1 cup mayo
1/4 tsp cayenne
4 oz canned green chiles, mild
salt to taste
Mix corn, avocados, tomatoes and veggies sauce in a bowl. Let marinate for ten minutes.
Whisk sauce together.
Assemble taco with black beans, veggie mixture, a piece of battered fried fish, and top with special sauce!
Leander’s Specialty Dish: Camarones Rancheros or “Bacon Makes Everything Better”
Ingredients:
1 lb shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 lb bacon
2 bell peppers
1 onion
2 tomatoes
2 jalapeno peppers
½ lb mushrooms
red pepper flakes
This is a very easy dish that relies on fresh ingredients for the best flavor. Most of the work comes in the form of chopping, and dealing with raw shrimp. If you don’t like to get your hands dirty, be sure to pass that job off on someone else.
Wrap raw shrimp in bacon slices and secure with a toothpick. (If you’re out of toothpicks or are stuck in a dive shop on Cozumel, all is not lost. Wrap as usual.)
Heat oil in a large skillet, and combine bell pepper, onion, jalapeños, and mushrooms. Sauté until all the vegetables are tender and onions are translucent in color.
Add the raw shrimp wrapped in bacon. (If no toothpicks were to be found, simply place the shrimp carefully in the pan.) After turning once, add tomatoes. Cook until shrimp is pink and serve over rice with a generous serving of your favorite salsa!
Don’t miss the second book, Death on the Wind! Who needs enemies when you’ve got friends like these?
Book Three, Danger at the Dive Shop is a deep sea game of cat and mouse.
If you’re like Kitty and have always wanted to explore Old Town Havana, don’t miss the Fourth Book, Chaos in Cuba.
Book Five, Sabotage on Solitude Bay, is a special edition Christmas mystery set at Leander’s family home in the Florida Keys.
Book Six takes you on a Catalan adventure that ends in a shocking twist: A Scandal in Spain.
Prepare for an ice cold killer in Book Seven, Nightmare Under the Northern Lights.
Big changes―and mortal danger―are in store for Starling and Swift in Book Eight, Terror at the Turtle Sanctuary.
BIOGRAPHY
M. J. Mandrake is the pen name of an award-nominated writer of over thirty novels. Contrary to popular belief, the best part of writing a mystery is not thinking up gruesome ways to murder people― but if you irritate an author, don’t be surprised if you find yourself with a ceremonial knife in your literary heart. You can avoid this fate by delivering copious amounts of coffee, chocolate, and raspberry sorbet.
Excerpt from Book Four, Chaos in Cuba
Chapter One
“If you die in an elevator, be sure to push the up button.”
― Sam Levenson
Kitty Swift lifted the hot Cuban espresso to her lips and took a sip. Minutes later, she was uncomfortably aware of the moment the caffeine made its way from her mouth to her brain. Chatter from the locals seated around her at the little street café sounded louder and faster. The candy-colored buildings that lined the streets of Old Havana took on a technicolor hue, and the early morning December sun burned brighter than before.
Chica, her German Shepherd service dog, nudged Kitty’s knee as if to ask whether she was enjoying her heart palpitations, or if Chica needed to call for help.
“I’m not quite sure,” Kitty murmured. “But heaven knows, I’m awake now.”
Fatigue wasn’t a common experience for Kitty. Translating for the deaf community on luxury cruise ships usually included Bingo, a chocolate fountain, and all the virgin strawberry margaritas she could handle. Now she was on the sixth day of a seven day tour to Cuba and she wondered if there was enough espresso on the island to keep her awake.
Her tour group was enjoying a closer look at Havana during the Christmas season and had reserved three nights on land while the cruise ship was moored offshore. Permission to visit Cuba always hinged on the itinerary being full of educational activities, like visiting museums and listening to political speeches, but they still managed to sneak in quite a few opportunities to act like regular tourists. The large, four-story home was a few blocks from the main square, La Plaza Vieja. The first night had gone well despite the mattress being a little firmer than Kitty liked and the traffic a little louder than she’d anticipated. Around five in the morning, the head housekeeper had begun her daily chores, which included stomping into bedrooms and rattling her tin mop bucket like the Ghost of Christmas Past. Perhaps she’d thought since it was a hearing impaired tour group, nobody would notice, but in reality every service dog in the building had immediately alerted its owner.
Kitty had approached the household staff with a request not to disturb the guests until at least seven, but despite being fluent in Spanish, she’d been blatantly ignored. She’d then asked Sabrina, their official government provided tour guide to intervene. Sabrina had assured her that the housekeeping staff had been apologetic and understanding, but the sight of old Señora Delores and her mop bucket in the early morning half-light told Kitty that the issue was not at all settled.
All of which now brought her to the little street café at an hour when she was usually just beginning to contemplate rolling out of bed.
She reopened the little leather book that she’d let fall closed. Treasure Island was one of her favorite adventure novels, but she hadn’t made much progress on it during the cruise. As busy as she’d been, she was start
ing to fear that poor Jim Hawkins was going to be stuck on the island forever.
An older couple and a black lab turned the corner and headed into the wide open square. As they walked toward her, Eldrick and Betty Hereford waved in unison and both signed greetings. Chica sat up straight, nudged Kitty, and pointed with her nose as she was trained to alert her to anyone signing in the vicinity.
The Herefords were the last people Kitty would have imagined yearning for a trip to Cuba, but here they were. Retirees from Iowa, they’d been to Europe several times to tour the French Alps and taste the fine chocolates of Belgium, but had never ventured closer to the equator. Betty was about fifty pounds heavier than Eldrick, and seemed to have twice his energy, most likely from imbibing in the Cuban espresso. She kept her gray hair cut short and her conservative outfits were a nod to her decades as a church secretary.
Eldrick was balding, tall and thin, with a penchant for striped polo shirts that made Kitty think of the Where’s Waldo books. As chatty as Betty was, he signed at a ponderous pace, as if his speech were full of semi colons.
Kitty smiled. “Good morning.”
“Morning. What are you reading?” Eldrick peered at her book. “Ah, I see. Getting in the mood with a little ‘Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum’?”
“More like a gallon of espresso,” Kitty said.
“Courtesy of Señora Delores and her mop bucket?” Eldrick asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. I think I was first on her list. Probably because I complained so loudly yesterday. And you?”
“About thirty minutes ago. I never knew a room needed so much cleaning, especially when we’re hardly in it. Bless her heart.” Betty sank into the seat across from Kitty and covered a yawn with her hand.
Danger at the Dive Shop Page 11