She stared at me, lips sealed tight, for several seconds before turning and sitting down on the steel framed bed.
“You’re really trying to help?”
I nodded. I didn’t feel the need to explain it was only really Vince I was trying to help, and that if Meredith gave me any indication of her guilt, I would be passing it on just as fast as I could.
“May I sit?”
She jerked her head in the direction of the room’s only chair, which was next to the desk attached to the wall opposite her bed. I pulled it out and sat down, trying to look as inoffensive and friendly as possible. As if I had nothing to do with her current situation, just someone trying to help.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions, find out about this whole situation from your point of view. I need a bit more background before I start writing.” She gave me a cold look. “For Vince.”
There was another long pause, then her gaze softened. “Go ahead then, I guess.”
“Could you tell me anything about the phone message you supposedly sent?”
“It was nothing like what that awful woman said.”
“Beverly?” I confirmed.
“Yes. Her.”
Meredith clasped her fingers together and placed them on her lap. “It was true I contacted Hannah—I had to. I had to protect Vince. I just sent her a message telling her to stay away from him. I didn’t say I was going to kill her like Beverly said though. That’s exaggerated garbage.”
I nodded sympathetically. “So you didn’t threaten to kill her?”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I just told her to stay away, or else. I didn’t mean ‘kill her’ when I said that. I just wanted to scare the silly twerp away.”
Meredith sat back thoughtfully, leaning against the cabin wall like I often did on my own bed, an amused smile on her face.
“If I was going to kill anyone over Vince, I would’ve done it years ago.” A soft laugh tinkled from between her lips. “Not because some fangirl on a boat wanted to get an autograph or whatever it was.” She shook her head as if the very notion was ridiculous.
“Years ago? Did something happen?”
Meredith’s smile melted like ice in hot coffee, and she looked up toward the ceiling for a moment in thought.
“Oh, that was years ago.” She shook her head at me. “It doesn’t matter.”
“No?”
I raised one eyebrow slightly, trying to keep my expression as open, but disinterested as possible.
It worked. After a brief sigh, Meredith relaxed a little and seemed to open up again.
“Years ago, years and years ago, there was another woman. Vince and I had just gotten together, but this harpy got her talons into him and hypnotized him.”
“Hypnotized him?”
She nodded. “Yes. That’s the only explanation I can think of. Vince actually—I know this will seem ludicrous now—but he, very briefly, broke things off with me. That woman brainwashed him, and dragged him away from me.”
I tried not to laugh at Meredith’s assertion that hypnotism was the only possible explanation for a man leaving her. Having seen her recent antics, I could think of a lot of reasons to leave her.
“But luckily Vince was too strong. He realized what she was, and that I was his one and only true love. We were reunited, and we’ve been happily together ever since.”
“I see. Most relationships can be rocky early on, can’t they?” I had no idea whether that fact was true. It felt true. “But real love conquers all, right?”
“That’s right,” said Meredith with a firm nod. “So, you see? I never harmed that woman, and she was a million times worse than this silly fangirl who got herself killed.”
I nodded in understanding, but from the bitterness in her voice, I wasn’t entirely sure that I believed her. Just because she hadn’t killed this other woman years ago didn’t mean she didn’t murder Hannah. Her temper certainly hadn’t mellowed over the years.
“So what are you going to do?” Meredith stared at me intently, as if searching my face for clues.
“I think we need to get Vince’s story out there before any of the gossipmongers start talking about you two. We want to be ahead of the story, right?”
“Yes. You need to write about how I was framed, and how me and Vince are fighting to prove my innocence.”
I nodded uncertainly. I wasn’t sure I was going to write it exactly like that.
“The news hasn’t broken yet, has it?”
I shook my head. As far as I knew, it hadn’t. While plenty of guests had seen her taken away, they had no idea what it was actually about. So far, I hadn’t come across any rumors of her being a murderer on social media. Yet.
“Then I don’t want you to publish anything yet. Hopefully within the next day or two, they’ll find the real killer. Then you can do a wonderful piece about how they tried to take me down, but Vince and I fought through it, to emerge victorious, not only as the biggest couple in food, but as warriors who fought for justice, and won.”
By the time she had finished speaking, she was leaning forward, her hands resting on her knees, her eyes locked on to mine in an intense stare. The look in her eyes was almost manic.
I nodded nervously. “That would be quite the story, wouldn’t it?” If only it were true.
“You should get started on it. Write about me being wrongfully locked up, and how Vince is spending every moment trying to get me released.”
While indicating my agreement with another nod, I was thinking about Vince and Greg happily cooking away without a care in the world.
“Has he been raising a big fuss?” Meredith asked.
“Oh, he’s very worried about you.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a half lie or a complete whopper. I suspected that Vince might be worried about her—worried that she would be released and back to controlling him again before long. “Very worried indeed.”
“He’ll fight for me. And after we win, we’ll get that awful first officer locked up for false imprisonment.”
I wasn’t even going to pretend to agree with that one.
She carried on. “And I’m going to sue Swan. We’ll take them to the cleaners. They’ll be bankrupt, and you’ll be glad you’re working for me! Everyone else here will be out of a job,” she said, leaning back and laughing viciously at the thought of it.
I winced. I couldn’t even pretend to delight in the idea of Sam, Cece, Ethan, and all the rest of them losing their jobs.
But at the same time, it seemed like this was Meredith’s fantasy rather than something that was likely to happen. She was delusional. And the fact that she seemed to be at least partially out of her mind did not bode well for her claim of innocence.
There was a knock at the door and almost immediately it swung slowly, apologetically, open. “Is everything all right?” asked the young security officer, peering in. Perhaps Meredith’s cackling had sounded like someone being strangled.
“Everything’s fine. I think we’re done for now.”
Meredith shot to her feet. “Warriors for justice. Me and Vince. You write that in your piece, and you’ll win a Pulitzer.”
The blond-haired security guard gave me a curious state, surprised to hear I was in the running for the most prestigious award in journalism.
“Wouldn’t that be something,” I said, edging toward the door.
She really was delusional now.
Chapter 22
After our rather emotional conversation, I was fairly certain that Meredith was crazy. But was she crazy enough to kill?
I had an answer:
Maybe.
So it wasn’t a very good one. I needed more.
To get a better idea of what Meredith was like, I wanted to talk to someone else who knew her and Vince. Who would be better than a fangirl who herself had been accused of being a crazy stalker?
Olivia Porter knew more about Vince than anyone else aboard the ship, barring Meredith, and although she was likely to have some
considerable bias, I thought she might be able to shine some light on the Meredith situation.
It took a considerable amount of time to find Olivia, but that wasn’t a problem I still had to work on my day job as well.
I did a kind of personal tour of the ship, showing myself various areas I hadn’t really spent much time around, taking pictures to put out on the ship’s social media feeds later in the day. I figured I’d run into Olivia eventually, and if I didn’t, then I’d just call her up.
First, I visited a nail salon. Here, I got a photo of a woman having the most amazing sunshine yellow nails done. It wasn’t a color that had ever appealed to me, but perhaps it was because of the nature of us being on a cruise ship, I thought they looked wonderful.
Next door was the hairdressers, and beyond that the massage salon. None of them contained Olivia, but I got some pretty decent snaps in each one. Idly, I considered whether I could somehow snag a free massage. If I got someone to take pictures of me while I was being worked upon, that would absolutely count as work, right?
Perhaps next cruise, if I was still there.
Eventually, I found Olivia lying on a sunbed under an umbrella, in a secluded plaza with a view overlooking the Lagoon Pool, which was a level below. I had already noticed her hanging around that area several times this trip, and I realized it was one of her favorite spots to while away the time when she wasn’t at one of Vince’s various events.
There were about fifteen sun loungers scattered around the area, but only half a dozen or so guests had discovered this particular spot that day. The ground was covered in plastic grass that crackled underfoot as I approached.
“Good afternoon, Olivia,” I said with a friendly smile when I arrived. I wanted her on my side. It was easy to smile though, because she had coated herself in a liberal layer of coconut-scented lotion, which I adored.
She opened her eyes and turned her head at the sound of my voice, a look of slight annoyance on her lightly-tanned face.
But as soon as she saw it was me, her face lit up. I just have that effect on people.
Not really.
“Is Vince with you?” she pushed herself up into a sitting position, pulled her shoulders back, sucked her stomach in, and eagerly peered around behind me.
“Not right at this moment.” I wanted to leave the vague impression that he might turn up later, to keep her interested.
Her face fell, and she let her body slouch again. She was no longer quite so delighted to see me again.
“So?”
“What’s that?” I said indicating a large hardbound book that was next to her. It wasn’t a published book, but rather an empty book that you would buy at a craft store and use as a journal, or sketchbook, or—
“It’s my scrapbook,” said Olivia, perking up again, a smug look of pride on her lips.
“A scrapbook?”
I walked a little closer and sat down on the sunbed next to Olivia’s.
She picked up the book and held it up for me so that I could clearly see the cover. The blank brown front cover of the book had been decorated with a large picture of Vince, a giant grin on his face, that I recognized from the cover of his own cookbook. Above it, three words in wildly different fonts that had clearly been cut out from magazines were stuck to the front. It said Vince DeLuca Scrapbook.
“It looks fascinating,” I said, smiling politely. Actually, it looked like a ransom note.
“Oh, it is. I like to collect anything and everything I can about him. I print out blog posts. I cut out photos from magazines. I found a strand of his hair the other day,” she said her eyes wide and her teeth flashing at me.
I really didn’t want to hear any more about Vince’s hair.
“I guess you know a lot about him.”
“Oh yes. I know more than anyone. I have a straw he used, too!”
“Wow. I bet you know more than Vince himself!” I joked, trying not to wonder what other body parts or used items she collected.
“Probably,” she said thoughtfully nodding her head. The woman really was obsessed.
“Did you see what happened the other day?”
“Yes. Now Meredith’s gone.” She couldn’t have looked happier. “Vince is free of her. Maybe forever!”
“Yes, maybe, unless it’s a misunderstanding.”
“Don’t say that,” she said shaking her head quickly. “Vince deserves to be free of her.”
“Oh?”
I wanted to lead her on and see what she would tell me about Meredith.
I bet she knew more about Meredith’s past than anyone else on the ship, and she was more likely to know whether she was capable of killing than anyone else aboard. I’d have to be careful to filter out her prejudices though.
“I was hoping Vince was with you. You know, he’s going to be lonely, isn’t he?” She licked her lips when she finished speaking.
“I’m sure it’s a big shock for him.”
“He’s going to be lonely, looking for someone to fill the void. I wonder if I should—”
I didn’t want to go down that route. She’d be asking me to set her up with him before too long.
“About Meredith.” I tried to nudge her back on track. “Do you think she’s capable of—”
“Murdering someone?” asked Olivia, a happy smile still on her face.
“Yes.”
Olivia’s smile left her face. “She is an awful, awful woman. She’s bad for Vince. And I don’t think she makes him happy.”
I nodded, waiting for her to go on.
“What Vince really needs, is a younger woman, someone like me. If I—”
She was veering off-topic again. It was like trying to persuade a cat to go one way when it wanted to go another.
“Meredith,” I interrupted.
“Oh yes. Meredith. She’s an awful person.”
“But do you think she killed Hannah?”
Olivia blew out air from between her pursed lips in a long, slow stream, a mildly annoyed look on her face. “No,” she said quietly, disappointed.
“No?”
Olivia shook her head. “She’s a complete cow. A terrible person. Nasty, vindictive, controlling, but…”
“But what?”
Olivia sighed dramatically again. She clearly hated saying what she was about to say. “I don’t think she’s a killer.” She looked up at me. “There? Are you happy?”
I tilted my hit head at her. She had an odd idea of what would and wouldn’t make me happy.
“She’s not a violent woman?”
Olivia shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen. She’s threatened me a lot over the last couple of years, but it’s never been anything physical. All bark and no bite, that one.”
“I see. I have another question. About Vince.”
She perked up again. “Yes?” She picked up her scrapbook as if she was going to use it like an encyclopedia. Perhaps she would. I shuddered to think what kinds of details she had filled the book up with.
“I heard that a long time ago, he and Meredith split up briefly. Did you know about that?”
Olivia was already nodding her head up and down enthusiastically. “Oh yes. I’m sorry, I don’t have a picture or an article or anything.”
She tapped her fingers on the cover of her scrapbook in annoyance. “I didn’t really know Vince back then. Not like I do now.”
I nodded. It must be odd, I thought, to be someone like Vince—a celebrity who other people knew everything about, while he wouldn’t know about them. It would be a bizarre feeling to have a stranger, like Olivia, come up to you knowing every facet of your life, when you barely even knew they existed. I didn’t think I’d like it all. I’d have to be careful not to accidentally become a famous celebrity.
“Meredith said to me that if she was ever going to kill anyone, it would’ve been that woman.”
Olivia nodded. “Yes, I expect that’s right. I heard Vince left her for that woman. Sally. I think her name was Sally. Or maybe it
was Sandra. Or Susan. I’ll ask Vince when we get together.”
I raised my eyebrows at her.
She gave me a mischievous smile. “What? He’ll come around soon.”
“This Sandra, or Sally, or whoever it was…”
Olivia nodded. “Yes. So, Vince left Meredith for her, but then something happened, and he ended up returning to Meredith. It was very strange.”
“Why was it strange?”
“I think Vince liked that other woman. I think she was the real love of his what life. Back then, I mean.” She didn’t want to discount the possibility of the current love of his life being her—if only he’d get around to realizing it. “His first true love is cooking, and the second, apart from when he finally realizes it’s me, was her. But Meredith must’ve scared her off or something.”
This was interesting, but not particularly useful. It seemed Meredith could be intimidating, but not necessarily dangerous. But of course Olivia wouldn’t know everything. No one ever truly knows everything about anyone apart from themselves.
“Thank you, Olivia.” I stood back up. “I appreciate your time.”
“Are you meeting Vince soon?” she asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling.
I shook my head. “Sorry. No plans to see him again today. Not until the next event.”
“If you do see him, tell him I’m thinking about him. Okay?”
“Right, I’ll do that,” I said. I wasn’t planning on following through though. In fact, I thought Olivia would have a better chance with Vince if I didn’t pass on the message. I would actually be doing her a favor by ignoring her request. At least that’s what I told myself.
“Oh, and when you do see him, can you ask him how tan he likes his girls to be? I think he likes them with a light tan, right? But be subtle about it.”
I shook my head with a laugh “I think I’ll let you ask him that,” I said. “I don’t want him to think that I’m interested in him.”
Olivia’s eyebrows shot up in shock, as if she hadn’t even considered the possibility.
“You’re not, are you?” She was speaking quickly now. “I thought you and that housekeeper…”
I glared at her. “I’m not interested in Vince, no. Nor any housekeepers. Have a nice afternoon Olivia.”
Cooks, Crooks and Cruises: A Humorous Cruise Ship Cozy Mystery (Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Page 12