Murdered in Argentina: A Jack Trout Cozy Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

without.”
    “Now let’s talk about the itinerary,” Jack said. “We’ll fish for the next three days. Although I’ve fished every one of these streams and lakes in the area many times, the Argentinian guides are the ones in charge. They know where the best places are to fish each day, and we’ll follow their lead. Usually we start by fishing the river that runs through the ranch property. Unless they haven’t been hooking any fish there, I imagine that’s where we’ll start tomorrow. After that, it’s pretty much up to the guides. I will say this, I’ve come to this lodge well over a dozen times, and there has never been a trip when the fishing hasn’t been excellent.”
    “That’s music to my ears,” Ray said.
    Jack drove through the town and pointed out the main park, the government building, and many restaurants and shops which lined the streets.
     “Actually,” he said, “the town kind of reminds me of a Colorado ski resort. There are several very high end hotels such as that one, La Cheminèe. We often reserve rooms there for clients when there aren’t enough rooms at the lodge.”
    He turned off the main highway, and about twenty minutes later said, “There’s the lodge up ahead. You can see the lake in front of it. The lodge’s SUVs are here, so that means your guests must have arrived from Buenos Aires. I believe that’s where you told me they were going to spend last night, and then fly over here on the small commuter airline that serves the town.”
    Jack pulled up in front of the lodge and turned off the engine. As they were getting out of the van, several men walked out of the lodge and for a few moments the only sounds were questions asked and responses given. “How was your flight?” “Long.” “This place looks fabulous.” “Did you enjoy Chile?” “Loved it.” “Ready to fish?” and so on.
    Two young men dressed in traditional gaucho clothing took the luggage out of Jack’s SUV. Carola carefully took Cayo’s carrier from the trunk. The four of them followed the men up the stairs to their assigned rooms.
    “Jack,” Carola said as they walked down the hallway, “I don’t remember all of this gaucho gear being displayed on the walls the last time we were here, but I will say it’s both colorful and interesting.”
    “Yeah, it’s kind of like a tribute to the gauchos. Actually, it’s pretty fitting since there are a number of them still working here on the ranch. I would imagine the guests who come here and never have a chance to get out on the ranch like seeing what the gauchos carry and wear. From their ponchos and trousers to their knives and whips, it’s all quite interesting, plus it’s also very colorful, and I think it adds something to this long white hallway which used to be kind of barren and sterile looking.”
    Jack paused in front of a large leather whip hanging from a peg and said, “Gauchos always carry a big whip, similar to what we Americans call a bullwhip, which they use to help them herd their cattle. This whip hanging on the peg is a classic example of the type of whip the gauchos use.”
    When they got to their rooms, Jack turned to Ray and said, “When you’ve had a chance to get acclimated, we can go down by the lake and do a little practice casting. We have about two hours before the cocktail hour and dinner. I can’t wait to see that split bamboo rod and your antique flies.”
    After Jack closed the door to their room, Carola knelt down, opened Cayo’s carrier, and said, “What a sweet boy you are. You were so good on the drive here. I’ll take you any time over that nasty woman, Lisa.” The calico cat seemed to understand what Carola was saying and jumped up on the bed, licking his paws and looking at Carola as if to ask, “Okay, now that we’re here when do I get to eat?”
    Carola laughed while she pulled the pop top off of a can of his cat food and put it in the dish she’d brought with her. Cayo jumped off the bed, circled