Slay Bells Ringing

by Emily James

  My lungs and thighs burned before I was halfway there, and I tripped going up the flights of stairs between her deck and mine. I didn’t dare look at my toes. From the warm, throbbing feeling, I was certain at least one of them was bleeding. If I looked down, there was a good chance I might pass out.

  I burst out the stairwell door. The slow-close mechanism was the only thing that kept it from hitting the wall and bouncing back at me hard enough to knock me down the stairs.

  The hallway was as bright as it was in the daytime. Much like a hotel, the cruise ship never turned down the corridor lights, probably for security reasons.

  I jog-limped for Carrie’s cabin.

  Her cabin door swung open, and a man backed out. Not just a man. Hart.

  I froze.

  He hauled a woman along with him, one arm looped around her waist. It had to be Carrie, but she leaned on him awkwardly, as if she couldn’t support her own weight. Her steps were a clumsy imitation of her usual movement.

  Dear Lord, he’d drugged her somehow. She was so trusting that she would have let him into her room without wondering why a security officer needed to visit her in the middle of the night. It would have been easy enough for him to come up with some story about Garth to get her to let him in even if she had questioned it.

  She must have tried to text me when she realized he’d given her something to drug her. The state of her room would tell whether or not there’d been a struggle over her cell phone once he figured out what she was trying to do. My guess was that whatever he’d spiked her drink with hadn’t kicked in enough for her to hand over the phone easily. She may have even gotten it back at some point and tried to send me a second text.

  Since Hart was ship’s security, I would have been the only one she felt she could trust. She’d probably tried to text me without him seeing it.

  Mark would have help on the way soon, but I couldn’t let them leave this floor. As soon as they did, the cavalry wouldn’t know where to find us. Hart could drag her off into the bowels of the ship or throw her overboard or whatever he planned to do before anyone could stop him.

  “Hart.” I’d intended to call his name loudly and forcefully, but my voice came out a little cracked around the edges. Not unlike my sanity. Maybe McTavish was right. Something was very wrong with me that I kept ending up in situations like this—and on my honeymoon no less. “Stop.”

  Surprisingly, he did. No doubt he hadn’t planned for someone who knew him and Carrie to find them. If a random passenger had spotted them, he could have made up some story about her being sick or drunk and he was taking her to the infirmary.

  He turned them around.

  Carrie blinked rapidly, like she was trying to focus, and reached a hand halfway in my direction. “Dizzy.”

  Her voice was so soft I might have thought I’d imagined it had I not seen her lips move.

  “I know you are.” I forced myself to walk down the hall toward them as if I wasn’t afraid of Hart at all. At least he couldn’t see the way my insides felt like they were sloshing around in a paint shaker. “You need to turn her over to me, Rick.”

  I sent up a quick prayer that I’d remembered his first name correctly. I’d only heard it the one time when he was on the phone with Nat. But I needed to forge some sort of bridge to stall him at worst and at best get him to give up on whatever plan he had and turn himself in once someone official came.

  “I can’t do that.” His expression reminded me of concrete hardening in the sun. “I also can’t let her get off this ship. She leaves the ship, and we’ll never get my mom’s money back.”

  What the…? I don’t know what I expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. He was here because I’d told him about the note instructing Carrie to leave the ship. Which meant he hadn’t sent the note. He didn’t want her to leave the ship, either.

  I moved another step closer. Hopefully Carrie would understand that, whatever I said, I didn’t plan to let him leave this floor with her in tow. “I want everyone to get what they need here. How will taking her anywhere get your mom’s money back?”

  Hart dragged Carrie a step toward the elevator. “When her husband shows back up, he’ll have to pay to get her back.”

  I edged along with him. Hart couldn’t have been the one to take Garth if he expected Garth to be returned and pay a ransom for Carrie. The note must have given him an idea for a new way he could get his mom’s life savings back. “And if her husband doesn’t come back? Then what?”

  He tightened his hold on Carrie. She squeaked.

  “Then she’ll tell whatever banker controls their funds to pay up. Either way, my mom gets back what’s rightfully hers, and so does Nat. He shouldn’t have to suffer because he wanted to help me out.”

  It sounded like my guess had been right. Whatever Hart and Nat lost in the poker game with Garth, they’d overextended themselves to get it.

  Hart’s plan might have worked if Carrie hadn’t sent that text.

  He’d almost dragged her all the way back to the elevator now.

  “I’ve already told my husband what’s going on,” I said, “and security—other security—will be here any second. It’d be better for you if you’d already let Carrie go by the time they get here.”

  The elevator door dinged open. For a second, I thought Hart had managed to press the button when I wasn’t looking.

  Hart swung Carrie around, putting her between himself and the elevator almost like he planned to use her as a shield, his arm snaked around her neck.

  The young security guard with the high-and-tight military haircut stepped out of the elevator. “I heard what she said, Rick. She’s right. I can’t let you leave with her, but I’d like to be able to tell the captain that you let her go willingly.”

  Hart dropped his hold on Carrie. Her legs buckled, and I leaped forward. I wasn’t in time to catch her. It was more like I cushioned her as she fell. Her elbow connected with my ribs on the way down. That was going to leave yet another bruise.

  After asking me if I could get Carrie to the infirmary and then return to the security office, the other security officer led Hart off.

  “Make him give Garth back, too,” Carrie slurred. She fisted the edge of my long t-shirt in her hand. “Make him.”

  Tears dripped down her cheeks.

  I didn’t even have a tissue to help dab them away. “I don’t think he has Garth, sweetie.”

  She leaned against me. “I didn’t even want to go on a cruise for our honeymoon. Why wouldn’t Garth listen?”

  Taking a cruise for their honeymoon hadn’t actually caused what happened. Unfortunately, Carrie might not have been willing to acknowledge that even if she hadn’t been drugged. She needed someone or something to blame.

  Her reaction also made me think I’d still been looking in the wrong direction for who made Garth vanish. Hart clearly hadn’t done it. But Carrie was too drugged to be coherent enough to lie to me.

  Somewhere on this ship still hid the person behind all of this.

  Chapter 12

  By the time I passed Carrie into the care of a nurse and made it to the security office, both the captain and Mark were there. The captain had the distinct look of someone who’d been forced out of bed into looking professional when he wasn’t ready to be awake. He’d missed a button on his jacket.

  Mark wore shorts and a t-shirt, but also the look of a man who was used to being hauled out of bed in the middle of the night. His ability to be ready whenever a crisis hit made me want to kiss him. It let me know he’d always be there for me as long as it was within his power. He was probably the most awake of the three of us, even though I’d been the one to sprint down the corridors.

  Not only was he out of bed, but he also looked distinctly less pasty than the last time I saw him. “You look better.” I flinched. Maybe that wasn’t the nicest way to phrase it. “I mean, you look like you’re feeling better.”

  His lips tilted up at one side. “We might have been premature in assu
ming it wasn’t seasickness. I got turned around on my way to the security office—”

  I held up a hand, stopping him. “Wait.” I couldn’t keep the laugh out of my voice, despite the late hour and the circumstances. “You mean you got lost.”

  Mark gave me an I’m-not-amused eyebrow raise, but the other side of his mouth lifted as well, revealing his dimples and giving him away. “Unlike you, I’ve been in our cabin the whole time. But yes, I took a wrong turn.” He emphasized wrong turn rather than using the actual word lost. “No one answered at the security office when I called. I called the concierge desk, and the woman must have thought I was playing a prank because she told me to call back in the morning. I ended up wandering around above deck until I found a security officer on rounds.”

  Which explained why it took him so long to send help, but not why he was now sure he was seasick. Except… “You never went below deck on my parents’ boat.”

  “Nope.”

  Two people who helped solve crimes for a living, and we’d made an assumption without enough evidence. Mark could have been feeling better this whole time if we’d gotten a cabin with an ocean view, if he’d spent his days on the deck, or if he’d even gone to the infirmary for a seasickness shot. Well, at least we’d be able to enjoy the rest of our trip.

  Sort of. We still had the issue of Hart and a missing man to deal with.

  The captain cleared his throat, probably tired of waiting for us. Even though we hadn’t had a normal honeymoon so far, we couldn’t be blamed for having a moment of honeymoon euphoria where we were so wrapped up in each other that we almost forgot about everything else. We were newlyweds, after all.

  The captain ran a hand down the front of his shirt. He must have felt the undone button because his hand stopped over top of it. “We’re not equipped to handle serious crimes.”

  I wouldn’t have expected them to be. Cruise ships weren’t built with brigs. The way his hand stayed over his undone button made me think he might be more worried about appearances, though. “Your cruise line has a very positive rating online. We know this isn’t the norm.”

  His hand edged down slightly. “I’m going to have to account for all of this to corporate. Once this hits the news, they’re going to want to issue a press release saying that a two-time kidnapper was apprehended and handed over to authorities immediately.” His hand moved down into his lap as if he’d given up on trying to hide the rogue button. “I know Rick Hart. He manages his department well. I have a hard time believing he kidnapped one person and tried to kidnap another, and I certainly don’t want to hand him over to officials in a foreign country.”

  We were docked at a South American port. We weren’t at sea any longer. It was an area where the law got fuzzy and application got even fuzzier.

  Knowing what I knew of Hart’s motives, I didn’t want to see him handed over to foreign police, either. I didn’t know whether countries in South America even had due process. Maybe it made me an egocentric American for thinking it, but I happened to believe we had one of the best justice systems in the world and that Americans should be able to avail themselves of their right to a fair trial and innocence until proven guilty.

  “We’re docked now, but the crimes were committed while we were out at sea. Since this ship sails under an American flag, you can tell corporate that the United States has jurisdiction and that you can’t hand Hart over to anyone else.”

  “I’ll tell them that. Thank you.” The captain rose to his feet. “I’ll need you both to fill out incident reports in the morning for CYA purposes, but it doesn’t have to be first thing. I know it’s late, and you’ve been through a lot.”

  Mark stood and shook the man’s hand.

  I stayed seated. Hart was in custody, but I was close to certain that he wasn’t behind Garth’s disappearance. That created an additional problem. “There’s one more thing.”

  Both Mark and the captain turned to look at me. From the way Mark tensed slightly, I had a guess that he knew what was coming and was bracing for the captain’s reaction.

  “You need to cancel excursions for tomorrow,” I said, “and keep everyone on the ship.”

  The captain buttoned the button that had been undone. Forcefully. “There’s no need for us to be excessive about this. We have the person behind all the trouble under house arrest. He won’t be able to sneak off the ship tomorrow.”

  My brain calculated whether it was better for me to stay seated as a sign that we weren’t leaving until this was resolved or to stand to place myself on the level of his equal. Given that I was wearing my pajamas and no shoes, standing up probably wouldn’t have that much of an impact. It’d only draw more attention to my appearance.

  I did raise my gaze to meet his. “Rick Hart did try to kidnap Carrie Bodie, but I don’t believe he’s the one behind Mr. Bodie’s disappearance. He seemed to think he’d be able to ransom Carrie and that Mr. Bodie would willingly pay once he was found. To me, that doesn’t sound like a man who knows where Mr. Bodie is.”

  “You want me to believe there are two kidnappers on my ship?” The captain’s voice said he thought he might be being punished for something.

  It did sound ludicrous when he put it so bluntly. I hadn’t come this far and sacrificed so much of my honeymoon to back down, though—pajamas or no pajamas. “I believe that’s the way the facts point. If you allow excursions tomorrow, you’ll be giving the second kidnapper a chance to escape the ship.”

  The way he narrowed his lips and tilted backward onto his heels let me know he thought I was unreasonable rather than logical. He might not have phrased it that way. I was still a paying passenger, after all.

  Paying passenger or not, he wasn’t going to acquiesce to my request. I could see it in his body language.

  My dad would say I shouldn’t be making a request.

  I glanced at Mark. He wasn’t stopping me. I was going to take that as support, if not agreement.

  “The kidnappings have already been brought to the attention of a chief of police and an FBI agent. They agree with my assessment of the situation.” Or I was sure they would once I had a chance to update McTavish. My sleep-groggy brain couldn’t actually remember if McTavish had already talked to his contact or not, but it sounded good. “I’m certain ‘corporate’ would rather you closed down the ship and they had to refund everyone their money than the PR nightmare they’ll have on their hands when it comes out that you didn’t lock the ship down after you were informed that there were concerns that Rick Hart hadn’t taken part in the first disappearance.”

  The captain’s nod looked like someone had tugged on his hair, but at least it was agreement. “I’ll talk to head office tonight to try to secure their approval.”

  It wasn’t a promise, but it was as close as we were going to get.

  Chapter 13

  During breakfast, the captain himself made the announcement that, due to circumstances beyond the ship’s control, shore excursions were canceled and they’d be turning around for the U.S. immediately.

  “Where the FBI will probably meet the ship and need to clear everyone before they disembark,” Mark whispered.

  I had no doubt of it. Turning the ship around meant they’d also be providing all the passengers with vouchers for a future trip to reimburse them for this one. The people in charge must have consulted with their media and legal departments and realized that would be a smaller loss than the press crapstorm they’d face if they didn’t approach this seriously enough, possibly because they’d looked up my name and my parents’ law firm popped up. They may have even thought we’d be defending Hart and that we’d cast a negative light on the cruise line if they left any opportunities for us to do so in defense of a client.

  I leaned closer to Mark. “I’m sorry we won’t be able to finish the trip now that you’re feeling better. I feel responsible.”

  Mark shoveled another huge forkful of eggs into his mouth. “You didn’t kidnap or kill anyone. You didn’t cause this.”<
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  I hadn’t. True. It wasn’t that so much as the part I’d played in the whole scenario and what it’d meant for our honeymoon. Mark and I had spent a lot of time apart.

  I dropped my gaze to my plate. A part of me was still afraid that Mark would someday decide he’d made a mistake in marrying me. I couldn’t stand to watch his expression when I told him why I suspected I felt guilty about the whole situation in case it made him start down that path. But I had to admit to it. I had to keep my vow to be honest with him. “Maybe it’s because I feel like I put my work above my life.”

  Mark took my hand and tugged it gently toward him. It drew my gaze along with it.

  He kissed my palm. “Our work is part of our lives. We’re both in careers where we’ll sometimes have to make choices about priorities that other people won’t understand. The important thing is that we make those choices together whenever possible.”

  The way Mark said it left me unsure if he thought I’d done that or I hadn’t. Or maybe that was my own insecurity showing through again because I wasn’t sure. “Was that the case this time?”

  “For the most part.” Mark grinned. “Maybe not when you went running off in the middle of the night after two sentences of explanation.”

  I scooted my chair closer and leaned into him. “I think it was more than two.”

  “Fine.” The smile in his voice let me know that he understood I was teasing rather than arguing. “Four, then.”

  That commitment to partnership was probably why my parents’ marriage worked even though they spent long hours at work and didn’t do a lot of the things that marriage experts would say people needed to do to have a great marriage. Everything they did was based on a choice they made together.

  I felt bad for Carrie on more than one level. She’d likely married Garth in part because she wanted to be taken care of, but that also seemed to mean—if the authorities found him alive—she wouldn’t have much of a say in their future. She wouldn’t be an equal partner. I mean, what kind of man didn’t even take his wife’s preferences into account when choosing their honeymoon?