Side Trip to Kathmandu (A Sidney Marsh Murder Mystery Book 3) Read Free

speculation as to where that relationship might be headed as I helped Jay bring the steaming, fragrant dishes to the table.
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    “That was excellent,” Jay said, when his plate was empty. “Thank you. I’m glad you thought of it. I haven’t had Indian in ages.”
    “Well, I’m glad you like it, because you’ll be eating quite a lot of it soon. Guess what? The two of us are out on a deluxe trip to Delhi next Friday. That’s the surprise.”
    “Are you kidding me? Really? Why? What group?” He thought a minute, “No. Not the High Steppers! Their trips are value savers.”
    The High Steppers are a group of senior citizens that Jay and I often escort on trips. Our last journey with them was a disastrous Scandinavian cruise.
    “No, Jay, I don’t think the High Steppers are quite ready for India.”
    He laughed, and draining the last of his tea, took his plate to the sink. “Maybe India is not ready for the High Steppers.”
    I smiled, picturing some of the quirky individuals in the group, as I followed him with my plate. Most of them would not enjoy India. High Steppers generally prefer more predictable excursions, with less spicy food and fewer surprises. India with the High Steppers would be one long complaint after another.
    “Actually, from looking at the booking list, I think this new group is pretty much a mixed bag, Jay. I brought the info with me so you can take a look at it. It’s small, only eight in all counting us, plus some assistants and the inbound Indian tour company reps.” I rummaged in my bag, pulled the list out of his folder, and handed it all to him.
    “See?” I said, as he began to scan the names, “Some are old, some young, some in-between. The only thing they really seem to have in common is that they are all extremely rich. This is a high-end trip.”
    “Even worse than High Steppers,” he said, as he replaced the list in the folder and flipped it onto the glass top of his massive coffee table. “They’ll be so spoiled. Nothing will suit them and we’ll spend all our time trying to make things right. That’s not good news, Sidney.”
    He poured himself a new glass of wine. “Another sip?”
    I shook my head. “No thanks, I’m good. I think the trip will be fairly easy, Jay, because most, if not all, of these people are friends, or maybe friends of friends, of Brooke Shyler. She planned the tour. And she is why we get to go. Brooke demanded that Silverstein assign us to this trip. She said she would not book it without us, so he caved. Couldn’t resist the cash, no matter how unhappy he might be with us. I’m unclear as to exactly what our responsibilities will be, though. Like I said, we’re to be working in cooperation with an inbound Indian tour company.”
    “That’s not unusual. We often associate a local company.”
    “True, but this time it seems as if the company may play a larger role than normal. It seems to be driving this bus, and at least one of their agents will be coming on tour with us.”
    Jay smiled. “Fine by me, babe. That can only mean less work for us! Let me take a closer look at this.”
    He set his glass down on the table and stretched his long legs out on the sofa, piling silk pillows behind his stylishly-cut red head. Then he opened the tour packet again and began thumbing through it. I curled up in a chair between the table and the window, enjoying the view of the trees along the row of brownstones. It was late August, and the leaves would soon be changing color.
    Jay was smiling as he looked over the itinerary and the hotel list.
    “Love the accommodations. Palaces. And Tiger Tops on the extension! Real queens, the crowned kind, stay there. Did we book all this? This is a lot more deluxe than even the most high-end Silverstein tour.”
    “No. The Indian agency handled all the bookings. After Brooke called him, Silverstein worked out some sort of deal with them.”
    “Silverstein personally told you all this?” Jay asked, returning the