Murder at the Mayan Temple (A Starling and Swift Cozy Mystery Book One) Read online

  Kitty could have sworn he winked. She hoped she was wrong.

  “Mrs. Van Horn is looking everywhere for you,” Elaine signed, rushing up before Jace could leave.

  Kitty quickly asked Elaine whether it was the younger or the older Mrs. Van Horn, and then translated, adding your wife.

  “Ok, thanks,” he said and sauntered away, not even bothering to ask where the two older women had seen his new bride.

  “He’s too young for you,” Penny signed settling into Jace’s empty chair.

  “And too stupid,” Elaine added, dropping into the spot on the other side of Kitty.

  “And too married,” Kitty said. She started to add that she had no intention of becoming involved with anyone, and if she did, Jace was the last man she would ever look to for romantic companionship, but Penny interrupted her.

  “I knew a man like Jace, once. My sister’s nephew-in-law, Bobby. You remember, Elaine?”

  Elaine nodded. “Sure do. Not a man I could forget.”

  Kitty wasn’t sure whether Elaine and Penny were related, or companions, or a couple, but their history seemed to go back decades.

  “Started out real nice-looking. But ugly on the inside catches up to a person.”

  Elaine nodded again. “He aged like home-made guacamole.”

  “He’s not even that old yet. Not even half as old as us.”

  Their age was another thing Kitty wasn’t exactly sure about. Maybe sixties. Maybe seventies. Possibly eighties. It was hard to tell under the heavy eye shadow and bright lipstick. They talked like middle aged women who’d run out of energy to care who they offended, but old enough to know that kindness was more valuable than wit.

  “Sure looks it, though. Last reunion, he looked two thumbs of rum away from liver failure,” Elaine said.

  “I don’t think it’s the drink. It’s soul rot leaking out through his pores.”

  “Soul rot? That’s harsh,” Kitty said.

  “He deserves it. Not a nice man,” Elaine said. “Usually I mind my business, but that Bobby has done bad things and… Well, let’s just say evil catches up to a person. Jace had better watch out, or he’s gonna look like ten miles of bad road before he turns thirty.”

  “Or worse. People won’t take kindly to the things he’s doing,” Penny said. “I’m surprised Bobby’s lived this long, myself. And I’m not talking about his liver. You go around romancing married women and eventually some jealous husband will make sure you keep your hands to yourself―permanently. ”

  Kitty turned and looked toward where Jace had gone. He was leaning close to a tall, thin man in a red polo shirt. They were both laughing loudly. A moment later, they turned and walked away together.

  She didn’t know if it was better for Mrs. Van Horn to know what Jace was up to, or if living in ignorance was better. All she knew was that whatever was simmering under the surface of the tour group could just stay there until they made it back to Miami. She’d had enough drama to last her a lifetime. Once upon a time, she’d been a fan of ‘As the World Turns’ and ‘Days of Our Lives’, often crying hysterically over―while simultaneously reveling in―the heartbreak and betrayal of her favorite characters. And then it had happened to her. Heartbreak and betrayal weren’t as much fun when it involved your beloved fiancé and your best friend.

  She’d run far, far away from everything that reminded her of them, and now she was happy. Mostly. Content was probably a more accurate word. She spent her days basking in the Caribbean sun, playing Bingo whenever she had the chance, and surviving off a steady diet of virgin margaritas and liquid chocolate. She had Chica, a steady job she loved, and her bookstore. When she was away, a graduate student named Nancy watched over the place, making sure the pipes in the old colonial didn’t spring a leak. Her two black cats preferred her to stay home with them and spend her evenings reading by the fire, but a girl had to make a living. They only spent a few hours giving her the cold shoulder when she returned from a cruise. So, all in all, her life was pretty much perfect, really.

  The breeze turned chilly and Kitty frowned out at the view. A green strip of land was just barely visible to the east. The bank of clouds had turned from fluffy white to steel gray, and were fraying at the edges. Wisps slowly lifted off in tendrils like smoke from burning paper. She’d forgotten to pack her raincoat and was going to have to borrow one.

  Sighing, she slipped on her sandals and said goodbye to Elaine and Penny. As much as she loved to listen to the ladies’ take on the world, she still had a day’s worth of work ahead, and unless she was very much mistaken, there was a storm on the horizon.

  Chapter Two

  “Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.”

  ― Isaac Asimov

  Kitty moved her tour group to one side and waited for the crowds of passengers streaming down the gangplank. Most would walk along the boardwalk and head into the main shopping districts unless they had prearranged tours of the jungle or to visit a cenote for a swim. Her little group was one of the few that would stay overnight in Tulum. Most people preferred to return to the safety of the ship, where showers were hot and the water was safe to drink.

  Kitty had always felt disembarking just to shop was a missed opportunity to really explore the city, but as she felt the wind picking up, she wondered if it would be safer to stay aboard the ship. She would call the captain later and ask his advice. Tavish Edwards had welcomed her from the first cruise, and she had come to think of the jovial Scottish-American man as a good friend.

  When it seemed most passengers had disembarked and the boardwalk was less chaotic, she waved to get the attention of her little group. Humans and dogs stood before her in assorted poses of excitement, curiosity― and in Jace’s case― boredom. Elaine and Penny had changed into matching green pant suits with black fanny packs, while Toto wore a matching green ribbon over her service vest. Ron and Liliana Brown seemed anxious to set off, both holding a large duffel bag. Their service dog, a golden retriever named Callie, waited between them. Poor Liliana was struggling with a bad head cold, but she didn’t seem to be letting it slow her down. Her wide-eyed enthusiasm was still very evident, even though she’d confided at breakfast that the Nyquil she was taking to help her sleep left her feeling groggy and fuzzy-headed.

  Mrs. Van Horn gripped her walker, her white wispy hair blowing around her head. She looked fragile and tired, but her bright blue eyes were full of excitement. Thor, her black lab, stood at attention by her side. Jace had carefully put enough room between himself and Thor. He shifted his feet, chewing a wad of bright green gum with resignation. Mrs. Van Horn’s son was on her other side, one hand on her elbow in case she fell. Daniel’s heavy brows were pulled down over blue eyes the same startling shade as his mother’s. Kitty wasn’t sure she’d seen the man smile since he boarded. And like some men who were sensitive about their lack of hair, he always wore a cap, which today was a traditional fisherman’s hat. She thought it was rather strange he even wore one at dinner, but she didn’t feel it was her place to tell him to take it off.

  June hovered a few feet behind her husband and mother-in-law, as if unsure whether she was part of the tour or not. Her blonde bob was perfectly coiffed and her make-up flawless, but her eyes held a perpetual shadow of worry. The Van Horn teenage boys slouched beside her, both focused on their cell phones. Kitty wondered if anyone had explained about roaming charges. They had interacted so little with her that she wasn’t even quite sure which was Blake and which was Tyler. They both had red hair and glasses, and were only a few years apart. Kitty hoped she never had to address them separately or she’d be sunk.

  The McEwens stood off to the side, their arms around each other. Ashley’s long brown hair was in a ponytail and Eric teasingly tugged on it like they were fifth graders. It was sweet and made Kitty feel a little sad at the same time. Shaking it off, she refocused on the group.

  “Your overnight bags should be placed in the storage area under the bus, b
ut keep your jackets with you in case of rain,” she said and signed.

  They moved forward to place their luggage in the open compartments. Daniel Van Horn didn’t make any move to lift the heavy bags. June had stepped forward, almost automatically. She struggled to get the handle of the wheeled bag folded down.

  “Mom, let me,” one of the teens said. He snapped the handle into place, and threw his own duffle bag on top.

  “We’ll just hold ours,” Ron said and started up the stairs.

  “There’s a lot of room down below. You’ll be much more comfortable if you put it in the cargo hold,” Kitty said.

  “We’re fine,” Liliana signed and disappeared into the bus, her black bag held tightly in front of her. Callie wagged her tail and headed into the bus.

  “Are you sure?”

  “We’re sure.” Ron followed Liliana and Callie up the stairs, his arms wrapped around his bag. Kitty’s curiosity jumped into overdrive. She was sure it wasn’t illegal contraband because they were all searched thoroughly before boarding, but it was clear that the Browns were in possession of something very important.

  “We’ll take a private bus to the temple, take the hour long tour, and then head back to the hacienda for dinner, and then bed. If you need to stop at a drugstore or convenience store, let me know and we’ll make a stop. The hacienda is from the seventeenth century and is very old. Although the accommodations are comfortable and you’ll find every amenity you need, there are considerations with a dwelling of this age.”

  Kitty paused, glancing at the Van Horn teens.

  “I have a list of safety features to go over with you all that will make our visit go as smoothly as possible.” She handed out a sheet of paper with the usual warnings about water, leaving the group at night, and avoiding pickpockets.

  Chica nudged her hand and Kitty glanced at her watch. Chica had a much better sense of time than she did. Or maybe she sensed the restlessness of her group, waiting in the sun while she ran through the day’s schedule. As if on cue, a white minibus pulled up to the curb and the driver waved at Kitty. Manuel was a cheerful twenty-something man who took his job very seriously, even if he didn’t accord the same respect to the speed limit.

  “This is our ride,” Kitty called out, signing for them to file into the bus. She hung back with Chica, as one of the Van Horn teens made sure Mrs. Van Horn’s walker was folded neatly and stowed into the bottom compartment before helping her up the stairs. The radio played ranchera music and Kitty recognized a tune she’d heard the last visit to Tulum. It seemed as if she’d never left.

  As soon as they were all settled, Kitty took the last seat, directly across from the driver. Chica sat at her feet, ears up high. She’d been on this bus many times before. Kitty glanced around, wondering what Chica was sensing. Probably the weather. The clouds were covering the most of the sky now, and she could smell rain in the air.

  Chica wasn’t the type of dog to hesitate when she was given an order. That’s what made her a good service dog. But then again, Chica had a sixth sense that was stronger than any person or animal that Kitty had ever met, so she’d never punished her for taking her time. When Chica took time to assess the situation, Kitty listened.

  “Hola, Señorita Kitty,” Manuel said, grinning widely. “Como va?”

  Kitty wanted to say that she was currently leading the strangest group of tourists she’d ever encountered, but knew better than to assume no one could understand her. She settled for something reasonably pleasant and asked about his family. All were well, and he spent several minutes talking about all of his nieces and nephews in Mexico City and Cancun. There wasn’t a lot of opportunity in Tulum, so most young people left for larger cities where they could get an education and a well-paying job.

  “I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” Ashley said from the seat behind her.

  “Oh. Yes, I do. That’s part of my job.” Kitty couldn’t imagine a tour leader who didn’t speak the language of the country.

  “So that means you’re really translating twice.”

  Kitty nodded. “It seems more complicated than it is,” she said. She’d struggled in the beginning to translate from Spanish to English to ALS in seconds, but after a few tours, it had all become second nature. Now she dreamed in all three languages. Like that tired phrase, she could do it with her eyes closed. Except she needed to see. “Even Chica has picked up a lot of Spanish words. So, she’s trilingual as well,” she said half-seriously.

  Ashley leaned her chin against the back of the seat and smiled down at the German Shepherd. “Your dog, she always gives me the feeling she’s listening to what’s going on.”

  Kitty got that feeling, too. It wasn’t just how Chica took notice of a sharp tone or a tense silence. She also had the odd knack of nudging Kitty before her phone rang, or sitting up before someone knocked at the door. There was probably an explanation for all of it, but Kitty had long suspected Chica was more than the average service dog. She was eerily prescient.

  As the bus wound its way through the thick green jungle, bumping along on narrow streets, Kitty asked Manuel how he’d been since they’d seen each other last month.

  “Good. Lots of work,” he said. “As soon as I have enough, I’m going to buy my own bus and go into business for myself.”

  “Really? Wonderful to hear. I’ll be sure to keep using you as our driver, then. Make sure you let me know when you’ve changed numbers.”

  Manuel took his eyes off the road to give her a wide smile. “Muchas gracias,” he said. He turned back to the road, sitting a little taller in his seat.

  Minutes later they pulled out of the jungle and onto the long road that wound around the side of the temple. It was crowded with cars and tourists. As they disembarked and started toward the gray, stone structure, Kitty pulled on the jacket she’d borrowed from Alicia, a crew member who had a coat to spare. It smelled faintly of smoke and stale perfume, but it was waterproof and the pockets zipped securely so her cell phone would stay dry. Although bright sunlight sparkled on the ocean beside them, the sun seemed to have lost its warmth.

  Kitty walked ahead a little ways, then turned around so they could see her signing. Chica walked beside her, watching for people in her way. Kitty wondered sometimes if Chica felt like a tour guide, rather than a guide dog.

  “I’ll leave the heavy lifting to the real tour guide tomorrow when we see the sacrificial temple area, but as we visit the main fortress today, I’ll share some facts about the construction and past inhabitants. Tulum means ‘wall’ in Maya, but the town’s original name, Zamá is ‘place of the dawning sun.’ Appropriate for a place with walls on three sides and open to the Caribbean on the other,” Kitty said, pausing so they could get a look at the temple, sitting right at the edge of the cliff above the sea, dark clouds growing ominously behind it.

  “The temple has three major areas: El Castillo, the Temple of the Frescoes, and the Temple of the Descending God. El Castillo is twenty-five feet tall and was constructed between the 13th and 15th centuries.” She pointed toward the small hole near the bottom of the tall structure.

  “We’ll begin our tour on the Eastern side of the temple, directly below the God of the Winds Temple.”

  Eerily, a gust of wind flipped the hood of her jacket over her head and she struggled to push it back again. Elaine lost her hat and Eric McEwen ran to catch it as it skipped over the sandy trail. Penny clutched her own hat and put a hand on Toto’s.

  When Eric returned, triumphantly clutching the dusty hat, she continued, “This site was the center of far-reaching trade probably because of its central location and easy access to the ocean. There’s a small opening in the wall facing the sea where canoes and other small vessels would enter, floating right into the main chamber during high tide. The boats travel down the sluice cut into the rock, and then are tied at the entrance to the stairs.”

  “How did they get back out?” Ashley asked.

  “Well, most visitors would stay at least a day,
since it took a lot of strength to row out again without being dashed against the rocks. They could either wait for another high tide, or leave through El Castillo.” She pointed toward tower. “At low tide, the little cove can be reached on foot. You’re welcome to walk down there after our tour tomorrow. The stairs from here down to the beach are slipper and there is no handrail, so I don’t advise making the trip unless you’re a confident hiker and have sturdy shoes.”

  “Did they board up the hole?” Penny asked. “You’d think people would just be climbing in down there instead of paying for the ticket up top.”

  “The opening in the wall is too high for a person to enter without a tall ladder, so they’re not too worried about the security issues, I suppose.” Kitty had once asked the same question of a tour guide, and he had replied that most people were too afraid of the curses that would be brought down upon them and all of their family if they dared steal from the ruins.

  Chica turned her head to watch Jace wandering toward the fence near the cliff. It was a beautiful view, even with the dark clouds and chilly wind.

  She went on, “Tulum was a religious and ceremonial center, and because it was a gateway to the rest of the peninsula and the Gulf of Mexico, artifacts found here come from around Central and South America. We’ll tour the Temple of the Frescoes today, where you can see some of these artifacts on display, and then tour the other major areas tomorrow.”

  She motioned to the Browns, who were insisting on carrying their bags into the temple area instead of leaving them on the bus. “And please, feel free to jump in and correct me if I get anything wrong, or if you have something to add. I’m very happy we have some Mayan history scholars with us on the trip.”

  Ron and Liliana nodded, looking pleased.

  She led the group up the stairs toward the entrance to the ruins. A museum attendant was waiting at the base of the steps with a wheelchair for Mrs. Van Horn. June and one of her boys had each taken Mrs. Van Horn’s elbow to guide her down the long steps. The other teen was working through a bag of seasoned sunflower seeds, leaving a trail of shells behind him as he went. She wasn’t sure if it was littering, technically, since the shells were biodegradable, and decided to err on the side of being a good tour guide.