Death on Tour - Janice Hamrick [24]
The Peterson family encircled a separate table, the boys going through a bowl of nuts like a pair of rabid squirrels. Susan and Tom both looked tired, but Tom caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up.
A waiter with a silver tray appeared with fluted glasses filled with an orange and pink fruit drink and handed them to Kyla and me. Either a daiquiri or a smoothie, I thought, and took a suspicious taste, wondering if the ice was safe here. Smoothie. The Egyptians in general frowned on alcohol, although it was readily available in the tourist hotels. Just as well, I thought, resigned. As tired as I was, a cocktail would have me asleep on my feet. Kyla, however, took a single sip and gestured the waiter back.
“Could you bring me a gin and tonic?” she asked.
“Certainly, madam,” he said and glided off.
“You should have one too,” she said firmly. “Make it two!” she called after him.
I grimaced. “You know I don’t drink that crap.”
“You can pour it in your fruity thing. Give it a kick.”
Kyla drank the first gin and tonic like water and became extremely cheerful. Without asking, she confiscated mine, which had probably been her plan all along.
The other guests began trickling in. Alan Stratton arrived, saw Kyla and possibly me, and slid into the nearest chair. He looked a bit grim around the edges, I thought, suddenly curious.
“Hello,” said Kyla warmly.
She sat up in her chair a little, which showed her figure to full advantage. I wondered whether it was calculated or not, then felt a little ashamed for thinking catty thoughts. Kyla had always liked the boys, and they’d always returned the favor and why not? She made flirting effortless and fun, which was probably exactly what it was supposed to be. The presence of an unattached attractive male on a tour was an unexpected bonus as far as she was concerned.
“I heard some news,” he said in a low voice, watching both of us intently. “The police have learned that Millie Owens was murdered.”
We both froze. I felt my jaw drop a little and made an effort to close my mouth.
“What?” asked Kyla at last. “You can’t be serious.”
“I assure you I am. The police are already down in the lobby.”
“I thought she fell,” I said in a small voice.
“Apparently not.”
Had Millie been right about a smuggler after all? And the police were here? I suddenly remembered I still had her blue WorldPal bag inside my room and felt very guilty and a little afraid. What if the police searched my room and found it? The red notebook had Millie’s name on the front page. And they’d think I’d stolen it and all those other things as well. How would I possibly explain it? I felt a little panicky.
“How do you know all this?” Kyla was asking.
For some reason, Alan did not take his eyes from my face. “I stopped at the front desk on my way here and saw the police arriving, so I asked Mohammad.”
I pictured myself running back to my room and tossing the bag in the nearest garbage can. Going back to my room right now would be the most suspicious thing I could possibly do. I was just going to have to brave it and hope that they either didn’t notice it or didn’t search the rooms.
“I thought Millie broke her neck?” Kyla was nothing if not persistent.
“They think that she was stabbed in the back of the neck. She died so quickly there was no blood to speak of.”
I gave a little shiver, picturing again the way Millie sprawled in the sand.
Kyla shook her head in disbelief. “My God, it could have been any of us then. Anyone who got separated from the crowd for a few minutes. Did the bastards steal her purse?”
“No. Her purse was under her body. It didn’t appear to be touched, so it doesn’t look like it was a robbery.”
“But then why kill her?” I asked.
Alan shrugged. “That’s what the police are trying to learn.”
“Well, it’s very tragic and all, especially for Millie, but I don’t see what the police are