Deep Sea Dead Page 7

  “Let me,” Claude said.

  Soon I was settled into Betty’s cabin. As the senior crew nurse, she’d been bunking alone. I hated to impose, but Claude had said there was no problem with Betty, and I wouldn’t be here that long anyway. He also had said to forgive Topaz, but she just had this “thing” about being alone.

  Interesting.

  The room was mostly done in white, but Betty had added some homey touches. A few frilly throw pillows, a tea service set on the dresser, and lacy off-white curtains over the portholes. It kind of had a British comfort, even though it still looked like a crew cabin.

  Once unpacked, I flopped onto a bed and shut my eyes. I trusted this was the correct bed since the other had a hand-stitched yellow-and-red quilt neatly folded at the foot. Right now I couldn’t care less if Betty bounded in and shoved me to the floor. Mentally I was wiped out, even though I had to get up soon and do more snooping.

  I rolled to the side and picked up the phone. I left messages for Goldie, Miles, my uncle and parents, telling them of my new room. Apparently they were all out having a grand time. Good for them.

  I got up and went to the bathroom to wash up and get my blood flowing. After a cool facial splashing, I felt invigorated. I would see what I could find out. Soon it would be lunchtime and maybe I’d learn more about the crew.

  Remy would be first on my list now that Jackie was gone.

  As much as I wanted to forget her, Topaz warranted looking into also. The woman was not very nice!

  Of course that didn’t make her a killer or someone who had committed fraud-but why didn’t she want me in her room? What exactly was her “thing” about being alone?

  I had a feeling it wasn’t because she worried I might snore. Nope. Topaz Rivera seemed as if she were used to being alone. And how’d she manage that?

  Her conversation with the captain did sound as if they were rather familiar. More fodder for my case. I took out the little pencil that I had gotten from Uncle Walt. He used it when he played golf so he could write down his scores. Then I took out my little spiral pad and jotted down all the notes I could about Topaz and Remy, and whatever else I thought was pertinent.

  I stopped for a minute and tried to remember if Jackie still had on that woven friendship ankle bracelet (like the one Remy had worn) when I saw her body. Damn. I couldn’t picture it. Had someone taken it off? And if so, why?

  I went by the infirmary on my way out for lunch. Betty and Rico were sitting and playing Texas Hold ’em, a poker game I’d seen my nephews play before. “Hey, how’s it going?”

  Betty gave me a smile. I relaxed a little and started to believe what Purser Bernard had said, about her already knowing we were rooming together and that I’d enjoy it.

  “He’s royally kicking my arse,” Betty said. She laughed. “I’m glad we’ll be rooming together, Pauline. You’ve had a terrible welcome onboard.”

  I nodded and smiled. “Thanks. I was starting to feel very unwelcome indeed.” We all chuckled and then I excused myself to go eat, feeling way better than I had a few minutes ago.

  I intended to eat with the crew today but as I stepped on the elevator, I heard my mother’s voice. “Well, it’s about time you decided to join us, Pauline.”

  Mother was dressed in a yellow-and-green floral muumuu. She looked very Hawaiian despite her Polish features of a not so tiny nose and grayish eyes like mine.

  Daddy had on white Bermuda shorts and a shirt that almost matched mother’s outfit, except it had hibiscus on it where hers had bird of paradise.

  They looked eerie and adorable all at the same time.

  I swallowed back an explanation of my prior plans and decided to join them. “Where are you off to?”

  “Not the buffet, Pauline,” Mother said and stabbed at the main lobby button.

  “Of course not. By the way, I just called you. I changed cabins.” Suddenly I wondered if they knew about Jackie yet. Damn. They would be so worried. Of course I had no intention of bringing it up and wondered if the FBI really was going to question all the passengers. I figured they would, but it would take some time. I imagined they’d start with anyone who might be involved or knew Jackie.

  “What was wrong with your cabin?” Daddy asked.

  They didn’t know. “Oh, something to do with the crew. I’m bunking with this adorable British woman, Betty.”

  Thank goodness the elevator opened to the lobby and we stepped out.

  “Suga!”

  I swung around to see Goldie and Miles hurrying toward us. All of a sudden, I felt as if I’d inhaled my mother’s pine-scented Renuzit. A warm feeling, a feeling of family, friends and comfort, settled inside me. Obviously I needed to be with the gang for a few hours.

  “Hey, guys!” I ran forward and hugged them.

  Miles held me a second too long. “What’s wrong?” he said.

  I whispered, “I’ll tell you later,” and said much louder, “I really missed you two characters!”

  Soon we were seated in the main dining room and ordering from the menu. I looked up to see Goldie staring at me, concern in his big green eyes. If mother knew why I had switched rooms, her look would be similar-with an added order to get off the ship immediately.

  I winked at him and watched him stab a forkful of his Caesar salad. Goldie had on navy slacks with a white nautical-print sweater. Gold braids dangled to his designer epaulets, and a navy knot hung against his chest. Tiny blue earrings, like little waves, swayed from his earlobes. The added touch was a navy-and-gold headband which held up auburn and golden curls around his head. Looked very “I Love Lucy,” with a twenty-first-century chic.

  I wondered who had more wigs, him or Dolly Parton.

  My parents told us all about their “adventures,” from bowling to swimming (which meant standing in the three-foot section of the pool) to dancing to an old band that they said sounded like Les Brown and His Orchestra. We all smiled at how they went on and on until mother yelled, “Yoo-hoo!” and waved at someone frantically.

  I turned to look where she was waving.

  Jagger stood in the doorway. A blonde was on his left, a brunette on his right, and trying to get into the scene was a redhead who could give Goldie a run for his money.

  My Caesar salad rose in my throat.

  Mother made small talk with Jagger about his being here and wasn’t that nice, and I kept interrupting every time she started to say his real name. She scolded me and he excused himself. Probably more to get away from her and then to prevent her from blowing his cover.

  “You really were rude, Pauline.” She summoned the waiter. “Is everyone ready to order their lunch?”

  “My salad is my lunch, Mother.” I took another forkful and chewed.

  “Nonsense. You need some protein.”

  If she started to get into my lack of calcium, I would politely get up and leave. We’d been through that in the past. Before I knew it, my mother was ordering a steak, medium rare, for me and one for herself. Goldie and Miles went with the pan-seared tuna, while Daddy ordered kielbasa and sauerkraut. It would never compare to my mother’s though.

  My mother fixed the same meal on each day of every week. Monday was meatloaf. Saturday was kielbasa and sauerkraut. How sweet that Daddy kept up the tradition when he could have had anything from prime rib to lobster.

  “Could I speak to you a minute, Pauline?”

  I turned to see Jagger standing above me.

  Mother’s eyes gleamed. “Why don’t you join us, Mr. Jagger?”

  Thank goodness he was alone and politely managed to get out of the invitation with the excuse that he was working. I got up and followed him toward the bar. Near the corner, he turned and stopped. “Why did they move you?”

  “Which time?” I laughed, but Jagger didn’t.

  I told him about playing “musical rooms,” adding how I was so glad to be bunking with Betty instead of Topaz.

  “Topaz…interesting,” he said.

  I tried to read his facial
expression as to whether that meant she was a weirdo, as I thought, or that he was interested in her.

  I went with the former, hoping to influence fate.

  “Meet me after lunch on the deck where we were last night.”

  I started to ask for directions, but thought I’d sound stupid, so I just nodded. I had noticed the waiter passing out dishes at our table. “Fine. I better get back before my meal gets cold.” Soon mother would be “yoo-hooing” me to come back. Before she made a scene, Jagger walked me over.

  He held my arm very gently-only as if to guide me. Not any really good physical contact. When we got closer to the table, his grip tightened.

  “Ouch!” I tried to swallow it back, but wasn’t fast enough.

  Everyone at the table stared at me. I was ready to turn to Jagger and ask what the hell he was doing, and then I looked down at my plate.

  There sat a two-inch-thick rib eye steak smothered in sautéed mushrooms and onions. And standing at attention directly in the middle was a gold-handled dolphin knife.

  Seven

  Jagger caught me before I could run out, scream, or otherwise make a scene and scare my family, although his hold was anything but nonchalant. He leaned forward and whispered, “Take it easy, Sherlock.”

  My body relaxed-which turned out to be a mistake. Now I could feel his strong chest muscles and my mind flittered from a dead Jackie with a steak knife in her back to Jagger being the sexiest man onboard.

  I pulled my thoughts to the present and told myself to cut it out. I was a professional investigator. Slowly I eased away from said chest and took my seat. My appetite was gone. How could I eat this steak when the knife was such as a dreminder…?

  After several minutes, Goldie leaned over. “If you don’t want that, Miles and I’ll split it.” He said it softly, obviously so my mother couldn’t hear.

  I looked at the steak, the knife still in place. “Have at it.”

  “Is that Cary Grant over there?” Goldie shouted.

  Mother turned and said, “I sure hope not, since the man has been dead for years.”

  I rolled my eyes, but at least Goldie was able to grab my plate and replace it with his. With a swiftness that had me gasp, he removed the knife, sliced the steak in two and stuck half on Miles’s plate. Then he covered both with greens as camouflage.

  I wiped my lips. “Um. That was delicious.” Mother was so busy talking to Jagger now-God bless him for helping in the deception-she didn’t pay any attention to me.

  Soon we were all done and ready to head off in different directions.

  “Maybe you can join us for dinner tonight, Pączki?” Daddy asked.

  I kissed his cheek and hoped Jagger hadn’t heard the nickname. Not that he hadn’t before, but I wanted to be spared being called a fat donut in front of him yet again. “I may have to eat with the crew, Daddy. You enjoy yourselves though.”

  He winked at me. I smiled and thought it really was great that they were having such a good time away from Hope Valley. Mother was like a new woman. But her darn radar was still intact.

  “I hope you get more protein with dinner, Pauline. Shame on you for not eating your steak.”

  I stood speechless while they got into the elevator on their way to go for a swim. Of course, they had to wait a few hours before getting into the water because Mother said they’d get cramps. As much as I tried to convince her that the old wives’ tale wasn’t true, she just ignored me. It really didn’t pay to argue with Stella Sokol.

  Goldie and Miles were going for a stroll, so I kissed each one on the cheek and turned around. No Jagger. No great surprise. I walked down the long hallway to the other set of elevators and headed to the upper deck to find him.

  Jagger was never easy to find. Most times when we worked a case, the guy was incognito. But this trip, he had dressed like the male host he was hired to be. At lunch he’d worn white slacks and a striped short-sleeve shirt. Looked very yuppie/ cruise-like/yet macho. What a combo. I walked along the railing, ignoring the fact that if I slipped and fell through the rails, I would be a goner in the deep, dark ocean below. I’d be deep-sea dead for sure. Of course, even as a size four, I couldn’t fit through the rails.

  As I passed the tank that ran down to the Bottlenose Lounge, a little dolphin peeked its nose from the water, startling me.

  I heard a chuckle and turned around to see Hunter standing there. “Cute. Isn’t it?”

  I looked at the dolphin. “Is it real? Really a dolphin, that is? I mean, it’s so much smaller than I would have expected.”

  “Buffeo dolphins are the smallest species. They don’t get bigger than four feet. That’s why we can keep them in this tank. Passengers get a kick out of them.”

  “They are neat-looking, but are they happy?” I wanted to lean over and pet the creature, but realized that if I fell in, the tank went all the way down to the Bottlenose Lounge. Suddenly I backed up a few feet. Talk about feeling claustrophobic. Guess these little guys were perfect, although the lounge was named after the bigger bottlenose species. Most people probably never heard of the buffeo.

  Obviously Hunter noticed my unease, but had the good manners not to say anything. “They’re sometimes called river dolphins since they are found in areas of the Amazon River.”

  “Hmm. Fresh water.” I watched the three swimming around the pool while passengers stood and took pictures. A huge sign, DO NOT FEED THE DOLPHINS, was posted above the gold and purple decorated tank. “They are very graceful.”

  “Yeah. Hey, Pauline. Sorry about last night. How about a rain check?”

  Suddenly the dolphins were not foremost on my mind. “Oh, sure.”

  “I’ll give you a call later today, once I see how my schedule is going.”

  I nodded, and before I could say anything else, Hunter’s cell phone rang and he excused himself. I gave one last look at the dolphins, smiled at the little clowns and turned around.

  At the far end of the deck, near the bar and a pool shaped like-you guessed it-a dolphin, sat a gaggle of singles. All women. All scantily clad in colorful bikinis. I blew out a breath and looked past them for Jagger. At any second, I expected him to pop up behind me.

  Nearing the gaggle, I heard a laugh-a Jagger laugh. The most buxom of the blondes bent down to brush her hand across her ankle, and then I saw my coworker.

  Damn. Talk about a diamond in the rough.

  He sat there talking and laughing with the group, but I knew that inside, he was aching to get away from the attention. I leaned against the nearest lounge chair and waited. Maybe I wouldn’t rescue him for a few minutes.

  How perfectly evil I felt.

  Then he looked up and caught my eye. Oops. No way could I waste any more time with a look like that one. He and my mother were two pips when it came to conversing with their eyes. I hurried over and said, “I need to speak to you a moment.”

  He nodded. “Well, ladies, I’ll be at the dance tonight.”

  Collectively they let out a big, pathetic, “Oooooooh.” I shook my head and walked away from them, figuring Jagger would follow. I didn’t want to see any more of swooning or who knew what else these chicks would do for attention. In my day, women didn’t…oh…my…God.

  I froze on the spot.

  I’d become my mother.

  I swallowed hard as if that would erase my thought and moved to a spot farther down the bar. “Anything you have on tap. Anything. And fast.”

  “Make that two,” Jagger said from behind.

  We got our beers and walked toward the bow of the ship. The wind made it difficult to maneuver, and occasionally I’d feel Jagger’s hand on my back as if trying to keep me from getting blown overboard.

  White puffy clouds dotted the sky and seemed to follow along as the ship moved. I could see the horizon a gazillion miles away and thought there was no way that the Bermuda Triangle was going to affect this ship.

  A salty sea breeze made the beer taste all the better as we sat on two steps of the stairs that
led up to a deck where passengers were not allowed. Occasionally I could hear the squeak of the dolphins and would smile to myself.

  I took another sip and said, “Oh. Did you happen to notice if Jackie had on a rope ankle bracelet when we saw her…? Her-”

  “She didn’t.” He took a sip of his beer, looked out over the railings and said, “Why?”

  It wasn’t an accusatory tone. Thank goodness. My chest puffed up like a peacock’s when I said, “Well, I remembered she had one on when she was painting her toes. And, in a photo she had under her pillow, Remy had one on his wrist. It looked the same.”

  Jagger sat silently for what seemed like hours. Slowly he turned to me and said, “Atta girl, Sherlock.”

  The wind could have blown me overboard, and I’d die happy.

  At least Jagger and I had something that had to be relevant to the case. A rope bracelet or an anklet. He was going to share what we knew with the FBI agents, and I jotted down a note for myself. Not sure what would become of the information, I put a star next to it and decided we needed to get into the infirmary again.

  Jagger had to go for an “appointment” with one of the female passengers, who apparently had requested him for a bowling game. Yeah, right, I thought to myself. Bowling, shmowling. I made my way back to my cabin to freshen up and then head off to the infirmary.

  When I walked through the door of my room, Betty let out a gasp. She swung around and then relaxed. “Oh, my. I’m not used to having someone walk in on me.”

  She had been sitting in the chair reading. Not like she was doing something illegal. But I understood. She was used to her privacy.

  “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll knock first.”

  “No need. You live here now. How’s your day going?” She set her copy of what looked like some kind of cookbook down on the bed.

  Betty would make a perfect homemaker, I thought. I sat on my bed. “Good. I’m doing well. Had a nice lunch with my family and friends.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Oh. You didn’t lunch with the crew?”