Chapter Eleven
“When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other.”
― Rob Sheffield
Kitty stretched out her legs and rested Treasure Island on her chest. The sun was warm, but the ocean breeze kept the stifling humidity at bay. It was good to be back aboard the ship, where she belonged. Chica was sleeping in the shade a few feet away. Every now and then she would lift her head as if to check for danger, then return to her nap. Poor girl needed a vacation more than Kitty did.
Glancing over, Kitty smiled to see Leander’s hat pulled down over his eyes. He’d been reading just a few minutes before, but now the book rested open on his lap. The man was exhausted. He’d spent most of the night completing paperwork so that he could make the boat and return to Miami with her. She reminded him that he was going to the wrong country, that he was supposed to be headed back to the Yucatan, but he just smiled.
She let herself memorize the line of his jaw and the way his fingers tapered gracefully. His chest moved slowly as he breathed deeply. She wasn’t the type of person who could fall asleep in public and she wondered whether he was the trusting type, or simply too tired to care.
Betty and Eldrick walked into view, holding hands as usual. Thor trotted behind them. He looked as happy as his owners to be heading back home.
“I want to thank you again for everything you did for us,” Betty signed as they came near.
“You’re very welcome, but I didn’t do anything.” Kitty inclined her head toward Leander’s sleeping form. “You can thank him at dinner tonight.”
“We will,” Eldrick said. “We would have been in a real pickle without him.”
Kitty thought that prison time in Cuba was probably more than ‘a pickle’ but she just nodded. “Were you able to bring any of your other purchases back?”
“Oh, yes. We have loads. They had to track them down after that whole smuggling thing, but they’re with us,” he said happily.
Again, Kitty thought Eldrick was understating the serious nature of the events that transpired, but she couldn’t dredge up the energy to correct him. A murder, human trafficking, nearly being killed along with Chica, and exposing the crime boss of the century wasn’t exactly small potatoes.
“I’m just sad you didn’t get a chance to shop,” Betty said. “You should go back by yourself so you can really get a good look around.”
“Me, too.” Despite what had happened, Kitty would like very much to visit Havana again. She would miss the sounds of music in the air, the brightly painted buildings and the classic cars. Maybe someday she’d spend a week there and just explore the historical buildings and the Old Town.
“But don’t worry about me,” she said. “I did find a few Christmas gifts.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Betty said, looking like her guilt had been assuaged. “Well, we’re almost done with our tour of the top deck. We’ll see you at Bingo.”
Kitty waved goodbye and as they walked away, she thought about her purchases. After breakfast, she’d popped into a small shop across the plaza and discovered a lovely little book about Hemingway’s life in Havana. It was cloth-bound, full of old photos, and was in excellent condition. Kitty had turned it over and over in her hands, battling with herself, unsure of whether exchanging Christmas gifts with Leander was a good idea. He’d invited her home for Christmas, but did his family give presents? Or were they the type that just enjoyed being together?
Finally, she’d decided she was overthinking it, as usual. It would be a present from Chica, which solved the dilemma quite neatly. The little mint green book was wrapped in tissue paper and nestled in the bottom of her carry on. She tried not to think of the cocaine that had been there just hours before. A change of luggage was probably in order.
Jorge stepped into view and smiled hugely as he walked in her direction. Kitty waved. He had taken Leander’s presence very well, welcoming him warmly and thanking him for watching over Kitty while she was in Havana. Leander had corrected him, letting him know that Kitty had taken care of herself without his help, but Jorge ignored that part.
“Look at you two,” Jorge said. “Love birds in the sunshine. You even have matching books.”
Leander tipped up the brim of his hat at the sound of Jorge’s voice and blinked sleepily. “Hello,” he said.
“Hola,” Jorge responded, lifting one hand and wiggling his fingers. He seemed to find Leander very amusing. “Are you coming to dinner with us tonight? Then maybe a little dancing?”
“Dinner, yes. But I think Bingo is on the schedule.”
Kitty shot him a look. She hadn’t said anything about Bingo although she’d really wanted to go. She thought about her celebratory dance and for the first time, wondered if it would be better to play and not win. A second later, she dismissed the thought. With Bingo she was all in, embarrassing rituals or not. Leander would simply have to deal with it.
“So, no dancing?” Jorge stuck out his bottom lip. “I could teach you to salsa.” He put a hand on his chest and stepped back and forth, his hips moving in a way Kitty knew hers never would.
Leander smiled. “Sorry, no. But maybe some other time.”
“Perhaps at Christmas? A nice Christmas cruise would be lovely. There are trees on every level.”
“We’re going to be visiting my family, actually.” Leander didn’t catch Kitty’s panicked expression.
“Oh, really?” Jorge’s eyes went wide.
Penny and Elaine turned the corner and walked toward them. Kitty sat up, searching for another topic. Perhaps the only thing worse than being teased about dating Leander would be the questions she’d have to answer about his family. There would be no end to it. “Will you be at Bingo tonight?”
Jorge ignored her completely and said, “What a good boy you are, bringing her home to meet your mama.”
Penny and Elaine were now standing beside him, looking at Kitty to translate. She tried again to think of a way to direct the conversation but the last few days were clearly taking their toll because her mind had gone blank.
“Don’t you think that’s nice?” he asked Penny.
Kitty reluctantly translated, quickly adding the part about visiting Leander’s family. He was giving her a strange look, sensing her hesitation. Kitty sighed. The man had no idea what was coming.
“How wonderful!” Elaine looked beside herself. “And where is this resort?”
“I’m not sure,” Kitty said. Oh, where was a fire drill when she needed one?
“Solitude Bay is in the Florida Everglades,” Leander said. “It’s a wonderful place. Magical, really. If you’ve never been, you should go.”
Penny looked at Elaine, and Elaine looked at Jorge.
“Let’s go,” Penny and Elaine signed at the same time Jorge said the words.
“Christmas in Florida,” Elaine said. “It’ll be wonderful.”
“Perhaps I can see an alligator,” Jorge said. “I’ve seen whales and sharks and dolphins. No alligators.”
Kitty looked at Leander, afraid to see his expression. She’d tried to warn him, but no, he was too innocent to understand what would happen around these three. Now he’d be forced to introduce his family to the two crazy old ladies and one flamboyant cruise ship employee.
To her surprise, he said, “You’ll definitely see some alligators. Maybe even some big snakes.”
After a few minutes, Elaine and Penny said they had to finish organizing their bags. Jorge checked his watch and realized he was nearly late for introducing a belly dancing instructor. As soon as they were alone, Kitty looked at Leander and shook her head.
“What?” he said.
“You’re always a surprise,” Kitty said, laughing.
He leaned over and kissed her. “In a good way, I hope.”
“Oh, yes. Always in a good way.”
As he went back to his nap and she returned to her book, Kitty read lines that made her close the page and look out at the sea.
We got together in a few days a company of the toughest old salts imaginable― not pretty to look at, but fellows, by their faces, of the most indomitable spirit.
Her life had taken an unexpected turn. She’d thought it would just be her and Chica, traveling the world, never settling down, like the swifts who made their home in the air. They would be free, doing what they wanted, when they wanted. But somehow life had had other plans. Somehow she’d been given the gift of friends―and of love―despite it all.
For the first time in a long time, she was looking forward to Christmas.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading the fourth installment in the Starling and Swift Cozy Mystery Series! I had so much fun writing this book since it’s been a lifelong dream of mine to visit Old Havana. I’m not a cigar smoker, but I did travel to high school in a 1956 mint green Ford and I have wonderful memories of that old car. It would be amazing to see all those old cars in good working order, traveling down the cobblestone streets.
Thank you, my readers, for supporting this new series. All my love to you!
If you liked this book, be sure to leave a review here.
You can find me on facebook at M. J. Mandrake. Come on by and chat! I’ve got a new website where I’ll be posting delicious recipes for fall and winter.
Until next time,
M. J. Mandrake
How did Kitty and Leander first meet? You can find out here in the first book of the series, Murder At the Mayan Temple.
Need more Starling and Swift?
Don’t miss Book Two, Death on the Wind!
Book Three, Danger at the Dive Shop can be found here!
Recipes
Medianoche, or Meet Me in the Kitchen At Midnight
This sandwich is literally called “middle of the night” and although you’ll probably make it for a Sunday brunch, you’ll see why it’s the perfect sandwich for Kitty and Leander’s late night cravings!
A very distant cousin to the Croques Monsieur and the Ruben, the Medianoche is a sandwich lover’s dream of pulled pork, ham, Swiss cheese, and pickles. It’s best when toasted, but it can also be fried in butter for extra deliciousness.
The bread is traditionally a sweet, thick bread similar to challah, or Hawaiian bread, but you can use potato bread, too. Spread a light layer of mayonnaise and hot mustard on each slice, layer with pork, ham, and Swiss cheese. Add chopped pickles. Toast in the oven with a heavy pan on top so the sandwich melts together instead of melting out the sides.
Enjoy!!
Pescao en Escabeche, or Kitty’s Lost Lunch
This very simple but unique dish is fish marinated in a strong mixture of garlic, bay leaves, sliced bell peppers, orange juice and onions. It’s cooked, then chilled and served cold. Side note: there are hundreds of varieties of escabeche. This recipe was provided by my Cuban friend and if your grandmother has a different version, you’ll have to take it up with him. (Thank you, Carlito!)
A pound of fish fillets, preferably cod or halibut, poached and salted to taste.
Mix one cup vinegar, ½ cup oil, four crushed cloves garlic, one sliced bell pepper, half a medium onion, red pepper flakes, and pimentan for color if desired.
Lay the fish in a shallow dish and pour marinade over the fillets. Let sit overnight. Serve chilled with peppers, sliced pork, rice and beans. Enjoy!
BIOGRAPHY
M. J. Mandrake lives in the snowy Rocky mountains of Colorado with her husband and two sleepy Scottish Terriers. This is her first cozy mystery series. 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 Murder at the Mayan Temple
Chapter One
“Nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death.”
― William S. Burroughs
“Do you always play Bingo with such pasión?”
Kitty Swift briefly debated whether to pretend to be asleep. She’d given up reading her leather-bound copy of ‘Great Expectations’ long before, and it rested lightly on her chest. If she hadn’t been raised to be polite, she might have waved him away with a flick of the wrist. She sighed inwardly. It was better to get these kinds of conversations over with when speaking with Jorge, the handsome-but-much-too-suave-for-her activities assistant.
She cracked an eye. Chica didn’t lift her head from where she slept at her feet, but she fixed Jorge with the same expression. Kitty probably looked groggy, but Chica looked lethal. It was a German Shepherd thing.
“It’s my understanding that you’re supposed to yell when you get a Bingo,” she said.
“Sí, but the way you play is…” He scanned the sky for inspiration.
Kitty knew she should help the poor boy out, but she was momentarily sidetracked by the recurring question of why he was there, sitting next to her, when there was a whole ship full of pretty girls. She wasn’t ugly, but she didn’t look any different than a whole lot of other blue-eyed women with tousled brown hair and a slightly sunburned nose. She was a familiar face after a dozen trips from Miami to Cozumel on the luxury ocean liner, but surely Jorge would prefer someone a little closer to his own age. Not that she was old. Not even middle aged. But Jorge had that sort of blinding exuberance that young people had before they’d really had their hearts broken, either by the cruelty of life in general, or because someone had truly and deliberately screwed them over.
Of all the things Kitty disliked in a person, it was that unquenchable glow of optimism. It made her feel slightly bitter and washed up. Perhaps she was, but she never noticed until she was faced with some young person dying to drag her into the cruise ship’s dance club, or a handsome young man determined to liven up her life. She was perfectly content with the amount of excitement in her life, and an evening of jiggling around to a thumping techno beat would not change that.
Plus, Jorge never looked at her dog. People who didn’t at least glance Chica’s way weren’t worthy of real friendship. Really, what kind of person doesn’t acknowledge the large German Shepherd inches from them? You weren’t supposed to pet a service dog, but making eye contact wasn’t forbidden. Kitty wasn’t asking for Jorge to carry dog treats in his pockets. A glance of recognition would do. Too many people simply acted like Chica didn’t exist. She’d like to think it was a sign of a sociopath, but the idea of so many unhinged people walking around was rather unsettling to consider.
The sun made her limbs feel leaden and she took a long sip of the virgin strawberry margarita beside her. Leaning back on her teak deck chair, she turned her face to the tropical Yucatan breeze. Although there were clouds on the horizon, it hadn’t interfered with the glorious weather. She’d learned the different ocean scents and she knew they would see land within the hour.
“You just notice me yelling because everybody else signs the word,” she said.
That wasn’t exactly true. Some of her hearing impaired group signed and yelled. It’s just that she really liked Bingo. She’d never played it before she went on her first cruise as an interpreter. Now she wished she hadn’t spent so many years going to the movies and playing tennis. Bingo had been there all along, just waiting for her to discover the suspense of the chase and the rush of the win. If they had Bingo every hour on the hour, Kitty wondered if she’d have to join some kind of support group, like Alcoholics Anonymous. Lucky for her, the luxury ship’s twice-a-day schedule kept her addiction in check.
Chica made a noise that had Kitty cracking an eye again. Chica didn’t bark unless she had to, but she did make a sort of fffroofff in her throat when she wanted to bark and knew she shouldn’t.
Jorge pulled back the hand that had been about to touch Kitty’s arm.
“You will sit with us tonight at dinner?”
“Tha
nk you, but no. I’ll be on duty.”
“Then after. Come dancing with us. You never get to have fun.”
“They might have something planned,” she said. It was possible. But more likely, she’d be reading, somewhere cozy with Chica asleep at her feet. That was fun. Just not Jorge’s definition of fun.
He smiled, bright white teeth gleaming against his tan skin. He really was very handsome, in an overly gelled kind of way. Not that she held being well-groomed against him. There was plenty of time on board the ship to be pampered and his job depended on looking professional. Kitty got the impression he was trying too hard, was too eager to show his best side to the world. More of that youthful exuberance. She remembered how it was to spend hours getting ready for parties, worrying about her hair or make up, picking out the perfect outfit, choosing a perfume that might drive a man wild. Those days were long past.
Chica sat up and turned. The dog took notice when she saw anyone signing, but Chica had an almost otherworldly sense of what was happening―or going to happen―around them. Kitty had learned long ago to pay attention to what Chica found interesting, so she straightened up and rubbed her eyes. A young couple and a golden lab approached them. Mr. and Mrs. McEwen spent much of their time in their large suite, as newlyweds often did. When they emerged, they were always happy.
That wasn’t the case at the moment. Ashley signed excitedly and her husband, Eric, didn’t respond. His frown was clear even from where Kitty sat. Ashley seemed intent on getting through to Eric, and although he was watching her hands, he was heading in Kitty’s direction with purpose.
She was officially on break, but unofficially she was always available. She didn’t mind. If she had to spend her day in court, interpreting the details of a bankruptcy or a libel suit, she’d probably be more diligent about drawing boundaries around her free time. As it was, her job didn’t really feel like a job. It was an extended series of vacations, broken up by long weeks at home in Mérida, organizing the stacks of leather volumes in her rare bookstore. A little boring, but there were worse things in the world, as she knew well.
Chaos in Cuba (A Starling and Swift Cozy Mystery Book 4) Page 10