Deep Sea Dead Page 14

  I bit my tongue from any further discussion so the captain would not clarify his statement.

  Before I could open the door, I heard mumbling from the security officer and the blond. I’d bet the guy was talking about me. He was probably going to continue to interfere in my case. So I “accidentally” dropped my lipstick and with help from my toe, it rolled closer to them.

  “Damn. The guy’s got to be onboard somewhere. First the body shit, now this,” Harwinton said.

  I paused and ran my hand along the carpet as if looking for my lipstick, which was clearly right in front of his shoe.

  I had to find out about the body.

  The security officer said, “If Girard is onboard, we’ll find him.”

  “Yeah, but who the hell got to the body while it was secured by your people? It’s probably goddamn shark food right now.”

  I jumped up and covered my mouth with my hand.

  Jackie’s body was missing!

  After I’d pulled out of my stupor, managed a few polite goodbyes and gotten my lipstick, I was now safely back in my room snuggled in bed while Betty snored away-and so wound up I knew I’d never sleep tonight.

  I only wished I could share my find about Remy’s room and subsequent loss of it with Jagger.

  That thought kept me more awake than before. Soon I noticed the sun peeking through the porthole and felt the slight motion of the ship. I pressed on my anti-nausea bracelet, which had been working splendidly, and realized we were headed off to Bermuda.

  And poor Jackie’s body had probably been thrown overboard.

  The next day passed without incident in both my nursing job and in my investigation. I had “wandered” down to Remy’s hideout only to find it padlocked and sealed off with yellow tape. I blamed it on the FBI.

  Maybe I could have found something more in the room that would help my case, since I had to wait to get my pictures developed in Bermuda-like another picture or note or something that might have been left behind by Remy. I couldn’t take a chance on having my pictures developed on board.

  Every time I thought of Jackie, my body shivered.

  Personally, I would have left the place untouched to use as bait to catch Remy, who might be dumb enough to move back there, even though the room was at the end of a hallway, with no way to set up a stakeout. Guess they had their reasons for doing whatever they did, or maybe they’d found him already. I was assuming the blond wouldn’t have shared that info with me.

  Damn G-men.

  By evening I was off duty and had changed into comfortable ivory slacks and a matching sleeveless top with a pastel rose painted on the front. I stuck my hair up, which always made me look older and more sophisticated or, actually, as if I were going back to work as a nurse. To change that image, I doused myself with my Estee Lauder Beautiful perfume. Feeling kind of lonely now that Jagger was gone, I decided I needed to see Goldie and Miles and check up on my folks.

  I made my way up to my parents’ stateroom only to find it empty. On the door was a yellow piece of stationery that read, IF YOU ARE PAULINE SOKOL, WE HAVE GONE TO THE BOTTLENOSE LOUNGE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME. IF YOU ARE NOT PAULINE SOKOL, WE STILL HAVE GONE TO THE BOTTLENOSE LOUNGE. IF YOU ARE PAULINE SOKOL, YOU BETTER COME, AND MAKE SURE YOU ARE WITH PEOPLE TO BE SAFE. TONIGHT IS A SADIE HAWKINS DANCE, WHICH MEANS WOMEN CAN ASK A MAN TO DANCE. YOU SHOULD JOIN US. YOU WORK TOO HARD. EVEN YOU COULD ASK SOMEONE TO DANCE. DO NOT MISS THIS OPPORTUNITY.

  I turned the note over and even though the printing got smaller and smaller (obviously so my mother could fit more in it to nag me), I was able to read, DADDY BOWLED A 200 TODAY, AND WE WENT SWIMMING ON THE DECK WHERE THOSE DARLING DOLPHINS LIVE. STOP WORKING SO HARD, PAULINE, AND COME MEET SOME NICE, YOUNG…

  She’d run out of room before she could fix me up with some swinging single. My urge to go party had fizzled with the paper-and yes, with the knowledge that my parents would be in the same lounge. But I did want to see Goldie and Miles, since I knew my parents were okay and obviously still having a good time.

  I hoped my friends were still in their room, but figured I was wasting a trip as I knocked. Nothing. Damn. I’ll bet they were at the lounge too. Neither were big gamblers, so I figured the casino was off-limits for them, and I wasn’t sure if any shows were scheduled right now. Maybe Uncle Walt could be found in the casino, unless he had more ladies to dance with now that Jagger was gone.

  If I saw the Lee women anywhere near my uncle, I’d lodge a complaint with the captain-after my drink would accidentally spill on one of their heads.

  Oops.

  An evil chuckle snuck out as I pushed the elevator button. When I got in, there were three young women dressed to the nines, and I figured they were on their way to the lounge too. One kept talking about the “hunk” male host who was no longer on the ship. They giggled, and a skinny blonde even suggested that maybe he was thrown off for doing something devious.

  They all had evil grins on their faces. I couldn’t listen or look at them any longer, knowing they were way off base about my Jagger. So I turned toward the glass section and watched the floors zoom by. In the solarium below, decorated in the ever-present dolphins-gold ones and purple ones-I saw a man hurrying by.

  He was dressed in jeans and a salmon-colored tee shirt with a baseball cap hiding his face. But from here and what I’d seen in the pictures, he looked like Remy!

  “Shoot!” I shouted and banged on the glass wall.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, lady?” the redhead in the group asked.

  I swung back to see them all staring and all showing far too much cleavage. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I stood tall and glared at them until they all turned away like frightened kids.

  Good. At least I had some power over giggly twentysomethings. Suddenly though, that thought made me feel old, single and childless.

  “How about that good-looking dark-haired man over there, Pauline? You are not getting any younger you know. You just had another birthday in March,” my mother said, openly pointing to a man standing near the bar.

  I groaned. “I know when my birthday is, Mother. We just celebrated it last month. And that gentleman over there would come up to my chest. Besides, he has no hair. How could I run my fingers through…?”

  “Pauline Sokol! You don’t have to get obscene.”

  I laughed to myself. Sometimes it was fun to goad my mother along. At least I hadn’t lost my sense of humor yet. It was difficult to get over that I’d just seen Remy-a killer and body snatcher. Reluctantly, I’d called the security folks but sure as hell did not want the FBI to come. Harwinton did anyway-when there was no longer any sign of Remy or any man in a salmon tee shirt.

  I’ll never forget the look the blond gave me.

  Well! I’d have to solve my case soon to show him I was not some bumbling fool. I decided the guy probably was a male chauvinist who didn’t think women should be investigators or FBI agents for that matter.

  Not wanting to dwell on the case and murder, I looked around the room. The girls from the elevator were dancing with each other while couples lined the walls and bar. Edie had her hands full, pouring and serving until she looked exhausted.

  Several ladies walked up to men at the bar and asked them to dance. Only one looked as if he refused. When he turned around, I nearly fell off my chair.

  Harwinton.

  I shook my head and thought, How rude. The poor girl must have built up a lot of courage to go ask him. He was a nice-looking guy, but had zero personality as far as I was concerned. Besides, he made me feel guilty about nothing.

  I took a sip of my Coors and watched him sip what I guessed was a Scotch. My mother nudged my arm. “What, Mom?”

  “Go ask him.”

  I looked around. “Ask who what?”

  “That nice-looking man at the bar. He keeps looking at you. Go ask him to dance. It won’t kill you.”

  I shuttered at the words. “No, I’d rather die than ask-”

  Mother’s eyes
widened and she grabbed my arm. “What are you talking about? Michael,” she said to my father, who was dozing off from too much excitement. “Michael, she said she would rather die. Why would she say that?” She turned to me before my father could process her words. “Why would you say that, Pauline Sokol? Why on earth-”

  I raised my hands and jumped up. The way I saw it, I was far better off asking the Fed to dance than to listen to my mother and consequently have her pull the truth out of me as to why I’d rather die than dance with Harwinton.

  Because I knew what being interrogated by my mother was like-

  I approached the bar. Then I debated about running out the door and going back to my cabin, but when I looked over my shoulder, Stella Sokol had her radar set on me.

  Damn.

  I nodded to Edie and sat on the dolphin stool next to Harwinton. I really didn’t want to dance and hoped my mother wouldn’t come over and push the issue. “Hi, Edie. Busy night, huh?”

  Harwinton stared straight ahead. I realized I didn’t know his first name, just as I didn’t know Jagger’s. Or maybe it was his last name that I didn’t know. Anyway, that coincidence was the only thing that was remotely like my relationship with Jagger.

  Edie handed me a bottle of Coors without a glass. “Chicks are not good tippers,” she said and then cursed.

  I smiled and gave her a generous tip.

  Harwinton looked at me. “So, tough investigators take their beer straight, eh, Sherlock Holmes?”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. I shifted and half my butt got involved with gravity, so I started to fall.

  He grabbed my arm, saving me from the complete embarrassment that I would have faced.

  Sherlock!

  How could he have known? Naw. He didn’t know. It was just a shot in the dark. A lucky guess. An insult to me. A…reminder of Jagger.

  Harwinton was more like Jagger than I’d thought, only his hair color came from the lightest end of the spectrum while Jagger’s came from the darkest-and their faces were admittedly different, although both…not bad.

  I heard a fake cough from behind me and straightened enough to see my mother in the mirror. She was getting up!

  I looked at the Fed. “Thanks for the help. Yes, I like my beer in the bottle, not from a can, and get up and dance with me. Now!”

  She was approaching like a tugboat at full speed.

  Mr. Macho Fed didn’t have time to think, to argue or to decline. Forget the fact that I was tugging on him. He got up, placed his hand on the small of my back and followed me to the dance floor.

  As we passed my mother on the way, I heard, “Please, God, let this one work out for a change, and don’t have him like boys.”

  Fifteen

  I looked to see my parents getting up and walking toward the door, so I pulled away from my “dance” partner. “Thanks.”

  “Hold on. You got me out here. Now you have to finish.”

  Speechless, I stood there getting bumped by the passengers while I thought of an excuse. Nothing. Nada. I couldn’t get away. So, I moved closer, Harwinton took me into his arms and led me around the floor.

  We should be talking, I thought, feeling so awkward that I now wished I were being interrogated by Stella Sokol instead of where I was. Speaking of interrogation, I really could turn this opportunity in my favor, so I said, “I don’t suppose you’d like to share any info with me that you think might be pertinent to my case?”

  He started to speak, but I waved my hand in the air and interrupted with, “I mean only what is related to the medical-insurance fraud. I’m not interested in the murder. Well-” My face started to heat up and I knew my pale complexion probably looked as if I’d spent the day in the sun. I looked at the water tank and saw Gilbert swim by.

  I think he shook his head at me.

  “What I meant to say was, of course I am interested in the murder. I mean Jackie was my roommate, even if for a very short time. She was human and no one should have his or her life taken away like that. Or in any way for that matter.”

  “The music stopped,” he said.

  I looked around the room. Oops. We were the only ones left out there. Not only had the music stopped, the band was on a break. “Why didn’t you stop me?” Now I was pissed.

  He looked down at me. “I tried. Several times. You kept going on and on. And I think you know that I can’t share anything with you.”

  Put in my place by a Fed. Yikes!

  I yanked free of his hold. “Okay, Harwinton. Don’t think I’ll be sharing anything I find with you.”

  He didn’t have to say anything. The look said it all: You couldn’t legally get away with withholding information from the FBI. Damn.

  “Thanks for the dance,” I said and turned to go toward the bar. I really needed a nice cold Coors about now.

  “Tim.”

  I swung around. “What? Tim? Is he some suspect or have anything to do with my case?”

  He moved closer, nodded to Edie to get us each the usual drink and said, “Tim Harwinton.”

  If I thought my face was red before, now it was crimson.

  Damn, I thought as I made my way through the crowd, mostly to get away from Tim. He looked like a plain old Harwinton. Black suit. Short, neat hair. And when outside, I knew he always wore sunglasses. There was something about the guy that did, in fact, remind me of my Jagger.

  My Jagger?

  How on earth had I started thinking of him like that? I know he didn’t think of me as his Sherlock. Before I knew it, I found myself facing the table of giggly females who sounded as if they were still talking about Jagger. I shook my head and started to turn.

  A set of hands covered my eyes!

  My first reflex was to elbow whomever, but before I could, I heard a voice.

  “Guess who?”

  “Gold, I about clobbered you one.”

  He let out a little squeak. “Oh, my. Oh, my. Why would you?”

  I motioned for him to follow me. On the way out of the lounge I noticed Tim watching me. Great. The guy really did have a knack for making me feel like a bug under a microscope.

  Outside the lounge, I took Goldie’s arm and walked him toward the elevator. “Where’s Miles?”

  “Migraine.”

  “Oh dear. I hope he’s all right.” I stabbed at the elevator button.

  “He’ll sleep it off. That Doc Peter gave him something for it.”

  I looked at my friend and realized he wasn’t in drag. Made me smile to myself. I’d always looked past Goldie’s appearance, often flamboyant as it were, and often after envying his wonderful taste. Now I hadn’t even noticed he was doing “male” today.

  Gold had on beige leather slacks, a light celery silken top and light brown leather loafers. He looked adorable, and I wondered how many women had hit on him at the Sadie Hawkins dance. I know I would have if he wasn’t my roommate back home. The only one he told me about was Topaz. Actually they would make a wonderful couple.

  “How was the charge for the medical service, Gold?” Before he could answer, the elevator arrived and we stepped inside with no particular direction in mind. “Where to?”

  He shrugged. “How about up?”

  We both turned toward the glass and watched the passengers get smaller and smaller below us. I scanned the crowds for another glimpse of Remy, but no such luck.

  The door opened on the top deck. I looked at Goldie, “Sure. Why not?”

  “Okay. We can stroll in the…oh…my…God.”

  Goldie shrieked and grabbed me by the arm. The elevator door closed with a thud.

  The empty deck lay surrounded by a fog. A circular fog like a donut. As the ship moved forward, rather slowly now, I realized, the donut moved along with it.

  We looked at each other. “The Bermuda Triangle,” we both whispered.

  Then we walked toward the bow, looking around as much as we could. I grabbed onto the railing, “Maybe it’s just a low-pressure system. Don’t they cause all the bad weather?�
� I looked up toward the gigantic things on top of the ship-not moving. I didn’t know squat about radar, but I could have sworn I’d seen them moving before.

  “We’re winging it, Gold.”

  He glared at me and swallowed so loudly I could hear. I patted him on the arm. “I’m sure the captain has everything in order. This probably happens all the time. Fog. Smog. As my mother would say.” I forced a laugh and said a silent prayer that my folks hadn’t noticed the odd scene outside.

  “Your lying is getting better, Suga.”

  I smiled. “Want to go inside?”

  He looked around. “No. If we are going under, I want to be the first to know.”

  I slapped his arm this time. “Stop that! We are not going under in this day and age.” I turned my head and mouthed another prayer to Saint Theresa. “Come on. Let’s sit.”

  We walked to the deck chairs and got comfortable. Goldie had pulled them closer to each other so we could hold hands as we spoke. I’m not sure who it made feel better, him or me. Other than us, the place was empty. Eeks. “So, about the cost of the medical care, Gold.”

  “I was meaning to tell you. Outrageous. If Miles didn’t feel like crap, he would have argued with that Amazon of a woman that kept putting the moves on me at the lounge.”

  “Topaz. Her name is Topaz.” I laughed. “Did anyone at the infirmary seem suspicious to you, Gold?”

  He looked out into the fog and touched his finger to his lips. Goldie had on coral-colored nail polish. On him it looked good, whether in drag or not. “Let me think about that one. I was so worried about Miles that I…I wasn’t myself.”

  I could imagine. I ran my hand along his arm. “Don’t stress about it.”

  “I’m all right now. Let’s see. The Amazon lady seemed very confident. No suspicious behavior from her. Actually she was rather rude.”

  “You’re on target with that one. How about the nurse? Who was on duty?”

  “Some hunk of a guy.”

  I watched Goldie perk up a bit and chuckled. “Rico. Italian. Straight.”