Killing in the Caribbean

by Jennifer Fischetto

  Then the investigation had started, Mom had been threatened, and here I stood. Spying on another man I didn't know. Unfortunately, I apparently hadn't learned that much because I didn't move. What if Aiden was here with or waiting for another woman? Cady deserved to know that, and what kind of friend would I be to walk away now?

  Seconds dragged into minutes, and my stomach growled. I could still smell the food from this spot. I couldn't stand here all night. What was he doing?

  Finally he moved and walked away from me a few feet. Another man approached him, and they shook hands. Their grip lingered a little longer than normal, and then they went their separate ways. The man entered the club, and Aiden hopped into a cab.

  What the heck had that been about?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I couldn't sleep. I was physically exhausted, but my mind refused to rest. I tried watching some television, but that just kept me awake. I pulled out the latest mystery novel by my favorite author, but I didn't see the words. I kept thinking about Greer and Aiden, Barclay and the others. What were they doing now? Were they wide awake like I was?

  After I'd seen that man get axed, I hadn't been able to sleep through the night for two weeks. Every time I'd closed my eyes, I'd see his body falling to the ground, and I'd startled awake. This, of course, was different. Barclay had an allergic reaction or something. It wasn't a vicious attack like at Frankie's shop. But in another way, it may have been worse for his friends. I hadn't known the axed man, but Barclay and his friends were close.

  I decided to get up, throw on the clothes I'd worn earlier as well as a navy knee-length cardigan, and get some fresh air. I grabbed my key card and stepped into the corridor. It was eerily quiet. I passed Cady's room and considered knocking, but I didn't want to wake her. I pressed my ear to her door. I couldn't hear anything but the mechanical hum of the ship. She was probably passed out. Lucky her!

  I stepped out on the top deck and breathed in a deep lungful. It didn't matter that I'd spent the day outdoors. There was always something special and exhilarating about the first time I breathed in the salty air after being below deck for long. When the ship was sailing, the cast spent a great deal of time rehearsing, performing, eating, sleeping, and hanging out in enclosed rooms. On our breaks, the staff—not the crew—could mingle with the guests, or we could hang on the lower decks where the rest of the crew was allowed. But my favorite part of the ship was the top—deck sixteen, also called Solstice.

  I preferred a spot that gave me privacy during the day hours yet still allowed me the magnificent view of the horizon. Tonight, however, I got a view of Bridgetown. It was no longer lit up and alive with action—one of the things I missed about New York. The darkened buildings in various heights looked so quiet and serene. The town was asleep, all tucked in their beds. This was definitely what I needed right now.

  I settled onto a lounge chair at the far end, just before the solar panels, and tried to relax my mind. A deep breath in and a slow one out. I repeated this meditation technique several times. There was a crispness to the breeze, and I was grateful I'd thought enough to bring my sweater.

  Footsteps sounded, and I looked over to see Shawn approaching. He spotted me and smiled. He pointed to the chair beside me. "Is this seat taken?"

  I automatically grinned. My thoughts were still on this evening. "It's all yours."

  "So, you couldn't sleep either?" he asked while sitting down and stretching his long legs.

  "No, I can't stop thinking about Barclay and his friends. I can't imagine being in their shoes."

  "No one could. It's one of those unthinkable events that unfortunately you can't know what to do until you're there, and even then, I'm sure his friends are on autopilot right now."

  That was true and probably explained Greer tonight. After witnessing the axed man, I'd been in shock longer than I'd thought I would be.

  "Have you experienced death before? Perhaps a relative?" he asked.

  I knew I needed to lie because telling the truth would only lead to questions I couldn't answer, but I hated doing it. Especially to someone I liked and wished to know better. Warmth rose into my neck and face as I said, "No. This is my first."

  He stared at me hard. "Then you're dealing with it pretty great."

  If only he knew about my past.

  "Thanks."

  "Do you really think it was an allergic reaction?" I asked.

  Shawn shrugged. "It was just my first thought. You'd be amazed at how many people I've helped who didn't know they had an intolerance to a food until it's almost too late. Without examining the body properly, I can't know for sure. Allergies are common though. Why? Do you think it was something else?"

  I wasn't sure what I thought. Something nudged at me though, like a prick to my intuition. I'd bet that was what was keeping me awake.

  "I don't know. Unless it was one he didn't know he had, I find it unlikely he was careless and didn't tell Aiden what he couldn't eat. He seemed to be very careful with his insulin."

  "He was diabetic?" Shawn asked.

  "Yes, that was his joke about shooting up. Just before we ate, I walked in on him as he was testing his blood sugar, and I thought he was a drug user."

  I watched Shawn's expression, but it didn't change.

  "Could his insulin react with something he drank?" I asked.

  "That's very unlikely. Are you sure it was insulin and not some drug? Perhaps he said that only to not have you thinking ill of him."

  I shrugged. "I believe so. I saw the tester thing. Why have that if you were using drugs?"

  Shawn nodded. "True. Although both could be the correct answer. Diabetic and drug user."

  I hadn't thought of that.

  Shawn shifted in his seat and glanced at me. "He kept giving me glares, as if he didn't want me there."

  I started to ask why on earth he would do that, but Shawn continued talking.

  "I got the feeling he thought I was crowding his turf."

  "Turf?" Had Barbados suddenly become West Side Story?

  "He kept his gaze on you the entire time I was there," Shawn said.

  "That's crazy. He didn't know me," I said.

  "And?"

  "And…" I wasn't sure why I'd said that. I thought of Barclay's sexual proposal earlier and how I'd jumped up when Shawn arrived. Oh, I saw his point. Maybe Barclay had seen Shawn as a threat, which was ridiculous because a) I'd wanted nothing to do with Barclay on a romantic level, and b) Shawn wasn't interested in me.

  His eyebrows were arched, still waiting for me to finish my sentence. Thank goodness he wasn't able to read my thoughts.

  "Whatever his issue was, it's unfortunately over now." I wasn't comfortable talking to Shawn about my crush on him or Barclay's flirting. It was too embarrassing. Instead, I wanted to focus on the death itself.

  And that was when I realized I hadn't tripped over my words during our entire conversation. It was as if I was fine while we discussed death, but the nervousness returned when I was reminded that I liked him. Was I thirteen?

  "So let's say it wasn't insulin. Which other drugs would give him blue lips?" I asked, trying to ignore his warm brown eyes.

  Shawn ran a hand over his short, tight dark curls. The ship had rules about the staff and crew's appearance, and no long hair on men was one of them. Shawn kept his hair closely cropped. For a second I tried to imagine him with an afro. I'd bet he'd look good with any or no hair.

  "The blue lips is cyanosis. That means there was a lack of oxygen and he wasn't able to breathe."

  I'd assumed that was part of the problem.

  "An overdose of insulin should have included seizures, which is also a symptom of crystal meth. Heroin would have given the cyanosis. How did he seem when he returned to the table?"

  I thought back, and while I saw him come back, I wasn't focused on him. There wasn't anything that stood out. "I think he was fine, but I'm not one hundred percent sure."

  Shawn nodded and stared at the horizon.
r />   "So you're saying that this could have been an accidental overdose?"

  "It's possible. The police will figure it out."

  Yes, I was sure they would. I kinda wanted to know before we left port though.

  * * *

  The following morning, aka several hours later, I was properly caffeinated and on the lido deck with a group of dance students. We were catty-cornered by the pool and bar, in an open area. Harrison, my exuberant senior dance pupil, was front and center. His grin appeared very eager and he looked ready to learn, dressed in his navy shorts, blue and white striped sailor shirt, white socks that came up an inch above his thin ankles, and a pair of white canvas sneakers. When he wasn't smiling at me, he was watching an older woman to his left. She had dark auburn hair, all wild and free, and she wore a loose-fitting floral print dress. She appeared to be a good ten, if not twelve, years younger than him, and it hit me. She had been in my previous dance class as well. I wondered how much Harrison actually loved dance and how much he really wanted to get to know her.

  I nodded to Kim to turn on the music that was piped into the sound system and spoke into the microphone I had clipped around my ear. It was part of our stage equipment, and with all of the people on deck who weren't dancing, I needed to be heard above the voices, sounds, and music. This was a great spot for this type of class. If I was teaching ballroom dance, we'd go to the plaza deck, where the atrium, also known as the grand foyer, was located. It was exactly how it sounded. An open, airy space in the middle of the ship with chandeliers and an enormous double-wide staircase that ran up three decks. Live music was played there, and it boasted comfy seating for people to relax in and listen. It had a large area that was perfect for that kind of movement, but for line dances and smaller groups, this was ideal.

  Harrison gave me a thumbs-up and a huge grin, and I instantly loved this man and his enthusiasm.

  "Okay, everyone. I've a special request from one of our guests to teach all of you the Cha-Cha Slide. I hope everyone is as excited as we are."

  A soft round of applause and cheers broke out. Some of the other members had also been in my previous class, including the little girl who'd given me the Lifesaver.

  I waved to her, and she giggled and waved back. I spotted her mother seated in one of the deck chairs nearby, keeping an eye on the child. Good. I'd had parents drop off their elementary school aged and sometimes younger children and expect me to babysit when the child got tired or couldn't keep up.

  I didn't intend on going too fast or making it too intense today.

  "Let's get started," I said.

  The initial instruction to most dances went rough and awkward the first time around, but Harrison picked it up quickly. Perhaps he was already familiar with it and that was why he okayed the suggestion. With his frequent staring at the auburn-haired beauty, it dawned on me that he'd initially wanted to learn Salsa so he'd have to pick a partner.

  She glanced at him several times, so I hoped he was making a positive impression.

  My life may have been on hold, but everyone else deserved love on a boat.

  I spotted Cady in the crowd and nodded. She gave a slight wave, and I went on to teach the steps again.

  "So, it's one, two, three cha-cha."

  By the time they were ready to put all of the steps together and dance the whole routine, most of them looked like naturals.

  When the hour was up, I needed a shower and a pitcher of water.

  I waved bye to the little girl as she ran off to her mom.

  Harrison stepped up and thanked me. "I appreciate it. I promised my grandkids I'd have the time of my life, and I am."

  "I'm so glad," I said and took off my mic. It wasn't uncommon for senior citizens to cruise alone.

  He glanced to the redhead, who was speaking with another woman at the side of our dance area.

  I stepped closer to Harrison and lowered my voice. "You should say hi to her. Maybe ask her to sit with you for lunch."

  "You think?"

  "Absolutely. Time of your life, right?"

  He gave a wobbly grin. It was obvious his nerves were in control, but he patted my hand and walked to the woman. Her friend excused herself, and Harrison said something. I wished I could hear them, but I wanted to give him his privacy, so I didn't move closer to eavesdrop.

  She nodded, and he looked at me with the cheesiest grin on his cute, wrinkled face.

  Way to go, Harrison.

  If only I had been that lucky in the romance department.

  Last night after Shawn and I had talked, he'd walked me back to my room. It had been sweet and a little odd. I wasn't sure if I should have invited him in or what, but as I'd awkwardly said good night outside my room, I'd realized that if I'd invited him in, he'd assume it was for sex, because it wasn't like I could have offered him coffee or a drink. We lived on a boat. And while I'd be more than thrilled to tousle in my small, bunk style bed, I didn't want to only have sex and then be stuck seeing him every day after. It would've been easy. No commitment. It wasn't like I could offer more with all of the lies and uncertainty anyway. But I didn't want it to be awkward after, and truth be told, I wanted something more than casual with someone. I wanted dates and watching movies together, holding hands and moonlight kisses. I wasn't sure if he was the right candidate yet. I'd only learned last night that his sister lived in Illinois. Had he grown up there too? Did he have other siblings? The conversations you had when you got to know someone and the questions you asked, I couldn't answer. It wouldn't be fair to date someone I had to lie to.

  I went back to my room, showered and changed, and then returned to lido deck. The first person I saw was Shawn. Of course.

  He finished talking to a man a little older than him, spotted me, and smiled in my direction. "How are you feeling today? Did you get any sleep?"

  "Some. You?" My stomach jumped and butterflies swarmed it. My palms started to itch, and I could feel the nervousness of being close to him take over.

  What the heck? This hadn't happened last night while we'd been talking about Barclay.

  "I got a few hours, but my shift started early this morning. Are you going back into port today?" he asked.

  I tried to think of something clever to say, which then immediately sounded dumb in my head, and I soon realized I was just standing there staring at him. I thought of Harrison and how he braved speaking with the woman he admired. "Every day. I want to make the most out of each one."

  "That's a great attitude." A single dimple appeared in Shawn's left cheek. I hadn't noticed it before, and it made him even more adorable.

  "Hey, guys," Cady said as she stepped to my side.

  I nearly sighed out loud. Having her there meant she could help me if I said something stupid.

  "I don't want to pull you away, but I'm eager to get into port and see Aiden," Cady said.

  When I was in the shower, I'd thought of what I'd tell her about last night's excursion. I still thought it was all odd, but I rationalized that I may not have reacted to it normally too. I wasn't grieving over Barclay's death, but it certainly had to have affected me.

  "Yeah, I'm ready. I was just about to thank Shawn for our conversation last night."

  Cady's eyes widened, and a smile danced on her mouth. "You guys were together last night."

  The way she said together made me want to hide—as if I'd said our conversation had taken place in his bed. It was fine having those thoughts alone, but standing right in front of him, they made my face heat up.

  "A little chat about death," Shawn said to Cady.

  "Oh, how…interesting." She frowned at me and shook her head in that tsk, tsk way.

  I knew she was thinking that I should've discussed anything but that. Maybe she was right, but I was simply curious about what could've caused Barclay's death, and Shawn was the best person to ask, considering he had a medical degree. Everything wasn't always about romance and lust.

  "Well, we have to go," she said and looped her arm through
mine.

  To Shawn I said, "Are you coming into port today?"

  I was so proud of myself for not goofing that question up, I nearly squealed. I deserved a medal.

  "It depends on my schedule. Let me know if you want to chat about any other ailments or conditions. I'm happy to discuss it with you," Shawn said.

  "I bet he is," Cady whispered in my ear.

  It took all I had not to laugh and redden at the same time. "Yes, thank you, Dr. Bish— Shawn."

  Darn, there I went.

  I looked away quickly, waved, and allowed Cady to pull me off.

  As we stepped off the ship, she glanced at me. "Bish Shawn? That's new."

  "Shut up."

  She chuckled. "You don't mind going back to Aiden's?"

  "Not at all. Also…"

  I filled her in on what had happened last night.

  "That's interesting. Greer too?" she asked.

  "Yes, but I don't think they were together."

  She tugged at the side of her lower lip with her teeth. "Did you see Aiden with anyone?"

  "No, he just talked to the cab driver and another man and left." Of course, I had no idea when he'd arrived or what he was doing prior to that, but I didn't see the sense in shoving those possibilities in her face.

  "It was probably nothing," I said.

  She flashed a smile and said, "Right." But worry lines covered her forehead.

  "Will he be at the bar? Have the police allowed him back in yet?" I asked.

  She shrugged. "I don't know anything."

  This didn't sound like a promising morning.

  CHAPTER EIGHT