by Hanson, Lee
“Lottie. You aren’t giving your daughter enough credit. She’s a mature woman, an experienced doctor. She will understand that a fourteen year-old orphan couldn’t have taken care of her. She will understand what you gave up out of love for her. And she will know full well what kind of a hard bargain Cecile made, how she forced you out of her life. The fact that you are here is a testament to your love for her. She will forgive you, Lottie.”
“But what about Marcel? How can I tell her that?”
“There’s no need to tell her. You could say it was a young boy who moved away; that it was puppy love, a one-time thing. Who could contradict you? No one’s alive, Lottie.”
“Today’s the last day of the cruise, Julie! How would I do it?”
“Come with me…”
* * * * *
CHAPTER 41
When Julie slipped her card key into the lock of suite 1272, she was crying like a teenage girl at a three-handkerchief movie. Joe rushed over and put his arms around her. Naturally enough, he thought the ship’s pronounced rolling was getting to her again.
“What’s the matter? Are you sick?”
“No, I’m fine. It’s Lottie Pelletier; it’s been so hard on her, Joe,” she cried. “All those years wasted!” She grabbed a handful of tissues from the bathroom dispenser and went to the couch, blowing her nose. “But they’re finally together; that’s what really matters.”
“So I take it, it was her…but it wasn’t her.”
“No,” she said, grinning through her tears. “Lottie’s a good woman, just like her daughter. Oh, it was so wonderful, Joe.” Julie couldn’t help herself and started to sniffle again. “I took her to the Medical Center and introduced her to Michelle, and then I left the two of them. It was such a good feeling.”
Oddly, Julie suddenly thought that Adrienne would want Michelle to be happy, too. What am I, crazy? Adrienne did nothing but give Michelle grief. Julie shook off the weird thought.
“I’ll never understand why women cry when they’re happy. Want a coke?”
“Yes…please.”
“So we’re back to Gill and Cathy and Dale,” he said, handing her one.
They were slumped in frustration when they heard a soft knock on the door. Julie looked at her watch; it was four o’clock. “It’s Val,” she said, brightening and going to the door.
“Hi, Julie,” Val said. Paul was behind her, a picture of resigned reluctance.
“Hi! Come on in.”
Julie introduced the men to each other and they shook hands.
“Good to meet you, Joe.”
“Same here. Can I get you guys something? We’re just having a coke.”
“No thanks, we’re good,” Val said, obviously nervous. “We can’t stay too long.”
Uh-oh. We better get down to business before she chickens out. “Please, sit down,” Julie said, directing them to the couch. She took the chair opposite them, while Joe sat on the edge of the bed.
“Have you had any luck with your investigation?” Val asked.
Joe answered, “Well, progress of a sort. We know who didn’t murder Adrienne.”
“We were hoping you might have a lead for us,” Julie added.
Val looked at Paul. He nodded, and she began. “We do suspect someone, someone who is about to be fired and put off the ship in Port Canaveral.”
“How do you know that?” Julie asked.
“Because Paul’s going to fire him,” Val said. “It’s Gabe Rossi. Gabe was tending bar in the Top Hat the night that Adrienne Paradis went missing.”
Paul leaned forward, clearly uncomfortable.
“Look, let’s get this straight. I don’t think Gabe had anything to do with this Adrienne Paradis business. I caught him kissing a passenger, not Adrienne, on the outside deck of the Top Hat club after we’d closed. That was a couple weeks ago. He’s always been a ladies’ man, but passengers are off limits, so I reported him to the hotman.”
Paul saw Joe’s puzzled expression. “That’s Bob Sanchez, the Hotel Manager. He left it up to me if I wanted to give Gabe another shot or not. I was inclined to forget about it because Gabe has been with me for over a year and he’s a damn good bartender. But then this happened, and Val told me about Malaya …”
Val jumped in. “Listen, here’s the problem. We can’t prove anything we’re saying here. Malaya is a server. She’s this tiny girl from the Philippines.”
Adrienne was tiny, thought Julie, alarm bells sounding in her head.
“Malaya won’t talk to you or anyone else about this, Julie, but she told me she thinks Gabe raped her. She had a couple drinks with him at the Crew Bar. She said she thought he was ‘nice and funny’. They left when she felt dizzy.”
“Dizzy?” Joe asked. “Like drugged?”
“Yes. She doesn’t remember exactly what happened. She thinks they went to his cabin, but she’s not sure. She woke up in the crew’s snack bar and there was blood on her skirt, and she’d lost her silver crucifix. When her cabin-mate noticed the blood, Malaya told her she had her period.”
“Why didn’t she go to the Medical Center?” Julie asked.
“She said it wasn’t open, Julie, but the truth is she didn’t want to lose her job.”
“You mean they would fire her for being a rape victim?”
That was it for Paul; he wasn’t going to say anymore. Valerie had persuaded him to come against his better judgment. He grabbed her hand and stood up, determined to end this thing. “The fact is they’d probably put both of them off the ship.”
Paul opened the cabin door, ushering his wife out in front of him. Then he turned and said, “Look, things aren’t done the same way here. If security catches somebody red-handed committing a crime, that’s one thing. But if they just suspect someone, or someone’s causing a problem, it’s easier to put them ashore. That’s what I’m doing with Gabe. End of problem.”
Julie wanted to say “for you”, but she held her tongue.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 42
Gill Byrne watched his wife getting dressed for dinner. It wasn’t a formal night, this last night on the ship, but Cathy had tried on three outfits and still wasn’t satisfied with the way she looked. This time she had paired a coral sweater with cream-colored linen pants.
“What do you think, honey? Do you like this? Do you think the lighter pants make me look fat?” She turned so he could see her derriere. She was barefoot and her pant legs, lengthened to accommodate platform heels, pooled around her bare ankles, accentuating her small, slim stature.
“Not at all. That’s my favorite. You look beautiful.”
Gill wasn’t lying. He did think she looked beautiful, in a terribly sad way. Since Adrienne’s death, he’d suddenly become aware of how emotionally and physically fragile Cathy was. Why didn’t I see it before? His brain immediately provided the answer. Because you were too busy thinking about yourself, you fool.
I don’t want another wife, he thought. She’s the best wife a man could have. I say “sign here,” and she does. I say “I want to go there,” and she goes. She does everything she can to help me, to please me.
As Gill donned his sport jacket, he faced the fact that Cathy had always known about his cheating. But I went too far, getting a separate cabin for Adrienne and me. There I was, waiting for my wife’s best friend, like a stupid, horny teenager.
Cathy must have left right after me.
Gill was so sorry. He loved his wife and he would stand by her.
Even if she killed Adrienne.
***
Cathy Byrne was bent-over in the bathroom, her long blond hair hanging down. She was spraying the roots with hairspray to give her smooth style more body. She straightened up, flipped her hair a couple of times with her left hand and gave it a final spray with her right. Being at sea, coupled with the stormy weather, made hairstyling a challenge.
That ought to hold it, she thought.
Looking in the mirror, she was reminded of her mother.
She looked a lot older than me when she was my age. She should have colored her hair. Just doing that would have made her look younger. And she smoked; that breaks down collagen and causes wrinkles. Of course, they didn’t wear sunscreen every day back then, and they didn’t have laser resurfacing, either.
Not that her mother could have afforded that last one. Cathy’s parents had divorced when she was twelve. Her father had moved to Texas, where he had remarried and had a second family…completely ignoring the existence of his first wife and child. Her mother had struggled financially for a few years and died of lung cancer before she hit fifty.
Cathy had promised herself on her wedding day that nothing would ever separate her from Gill. She knew from the outset that he wouldn’t be faithful. It was part of the bargain, marrying such an attractive, wealthy man. Women threw themselves at men like Gill; expecting him to “just say no” was naïve.
Oh, yes, the affair with Adrienne hurt, especially when she saw how furious he’d gotten over Joe Garrett. Of course she didn’t believe him when he said he was “going for a walk”, but it was over now and her competition was out of the way. She would be the constant in Gill’s life. She would be his safe harbor.
She would always have his back, no matter what.
Even if he killed Adrienne.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 43
It was their last night at sea and everyone in the Main Dining Room was talking in fearful tones about Beryl, the monster tropical storm that was lashing the Mystral with seventy mile-per-hour headwinds as the ship slugged her way northwest toward Florida. With gusts up to a hundred miles-per-hour, Beryl was a hair’s breadth from a category one hurricane and was scaring even the most blasé cruisers, who were gamely doing their best to put on a good face for terrified tablemates.
“Better to be on a ship than oceanfront on a beach. It’s bad news when it slams into land. You can ride it out on a ship,” one authoritative voice said.
Julie recognized the speaker, partly because his wife was seated next to him; they were the experienced older cruisers she’d spoken with after braving the pool. Julie smiled as she noticed that Alice and Phil Kent were seated at the same table looking like they wished they’d taken a train.
They followed their hostess onto the elevator which took them to the first balcony, where a rail-side table for two was set with all the Mystral’s fancy tableware. Julie marveled at how nothing on the table seemed to be moving. Then the waiter came and filled their water glasses…just a little. Julie watched, fascinated, as the water level tipped slightly one way, then the other.
“So what are you in the mood for, Merlin?”
To hell with fish fear, she thought. “I’m going to have the pecan grouper.”
Joe was looking at the menu. “Um, I think I’ll have that, too. Are you going to have the onion soup?”
“Sure. It’s perfect; the cheese will hold it in the bowl.”
Joe was laughing when their waiter approached. He was a middle-aged fellow, mocha- colored with a cap of close-cut gray hair. “Well, I’m glad to see some happy faces tonight in spite of the weather,” he said in a carefree Caribbean patois. “I am Rene. Are you ready to order?”
Julie felt herself begin to relax. “Yes, please, Rene. I’ll have a Kendall Jackson Chardonnay, the pecan grouper and onion soup. ”
Joe ordered iced tea and the same meal. After a bit of discussion, they added a Caesar salad to share and Rene left, promising to return shortly.
Julie leaned forward to keep their conversation private. “I’ve been thinking about Cathy. She’s simply too small and frail to have hoisted Adrienne over a railing that high. Stoned or not, Adrienne would have been struggling, wouldn’t she?”
“Sure she would; it had to be a guy. Someone strong enough to do it quickly. I don’t like Gill for it, either. He had no reason to drug her. So, what do you think? Was it Dale or this guy, Gabe?”
“Well, Dale had opportunity and more motive than anyone. And do you realize I haven’t seen him since the night of the Captain’s dinner? It wouldn’t be the first time a guilty party avoided me.”
Julie stopped talking as she saw Rene approaching with their drinks and soup. When he left again, she resumed.
“From what I remember of that night, it could have been Rossi, Joe. I’ve been thinking about it. We were all seated together in the Top Hat and everyone ordered a drink at the same time except for you and Adrienne,” Julie said. “You two were dancing when the cocktail waitress came to our table. You returned and caught the waitress as she was leaving, Joe. I heard you order a drink for yourself…but Adrienne went to the bar and came back with a margarita.
“She had plenty of time to flirt with Gabe Rossi. She may have flirted with him on other trips, for all we know. The way I see it, it was obvious that Dale and Adrienne weren’t getting along; it probably was no surprise to Gabe when Dale left. And even if Adrienne was dancing up a storm with you, I’m the one you came in with. The odds were you would leave with me.
“So Gabe slips something in Adrienne’s margarita, just in case she still wants to party after everyone else goes. What has he got to lose? He’s closing up, alone. If he can get her to stay, he can have her right then and there. If not, so what? She goes home loopy.
“But, say it didn’t turn out as planned because I left…and you stayed.”
Joe nodded. “And when we finally did leave, Adrienne planted a serious kiss on me. We were in the hallway, right in front of the club and the doors were open. Maybe that was the last straw. Gabe could have followed her out on the deck after we split up.”
A look of dead seriousness came across Julie’s face. “That plays, Joe. There’s a thin line between a man wanting to rape a woman and wanting to kill her.”
They halted their conversation when Rene arrived with their meal.
The moment the waiter left, Joe leaned over and took her hand in his. “Julie. I’d like to nail Adrienne’s killer as much as you. But there’s no body and no witnesses. You know we’re not going to solve this one, don’t you?”
“Yes. I know. I can’t stand it, but I know. We’re going to dock at Port Canaveral tomorrow morning at six. According to the weather report, the storm will be in the Carolinas by the time we disembark at eight-thirty. And by five o’clock, the Mystral will be cleaned up, restocked with supplies, and three thousand new passengers will sail away, enjoying the sunset over Florida. Who cares if a killer waltzes off this damn ship, free as a bird?”
“I care. There’s just nothing we can do about it.”
They ate in silence, neither of them happy with the inevitable end of their private investigation.
“Look who just came in,” said Joe.
Julie looked down over the railing. It was Michelle Sinclair and Lottie Pelletier.
“If not for your digging, those two might never have met,” Joe said smiling.
“I am happy about that.”
Suddenly, she thought of Gill and Cathy and their re-cemented relationship.
She felt an odd, warm happiness about that, too.
What the heck…?
* * * * *
CHAPTER 44
Adrienne saw Michelle Sinclair with her mother and was suffused with delight for the second time since she’d been in this strange, disembodied form.
It was an unexpected blessing that Lottie Pelletier was on the ship. Even if Adrienne had had the time to apologize to Michelle, it mightn’t have been enough to earn her forgiveness. But, with just a little urging, her surrogate had brought the two women together, and now the doctor’s happiness was sweeping away all ill feeling.
She had been delighted as she observed what was happening with Gill and Cathy Byrne, too. They were united as never before, standing together against the world. Adrienne knew that no apology from her could ever have accomplished that.
Still, her killer had yet to be identified.
Oh, he would pay the price when he came to th
e place where she was, the place where everyone’s account was balanced. It was the comfort of her Earth family and friends that most concerned Adrienne. They needed resolution; they needed his name.
And Adrienne SO wanted to be free of the Mystral.
Julie must not give up! The answer was right there in her stateroom…
How to bring it to her attention?
* * * * *
CHAPTER 45
It was seven-fifteen when Julie and Joe took the elevator down one level to Deck 4 and set off toward the front of the ship. They had decided to get their packing done, as all passengers had been notified in the Mystral Bulletin to leave their bags in the corridor before midnight.
They actually heard the bells and whistles and shouts before they reached the Casino. To their amazement, every slot machine was occupied, with eager onlookers quickly grabbing any available stool. While red velvet ropes kept spectators away from the busy poker tables, the roulette wheels and blackjack tables were surrounded by cheering would-be players who kept the cocktail servers busy while they waited for their turn to lose their money.
“Oh jeez, we’ll never get through that crowd,” Julie said, “it’s packed in there.”
Joe took her arm. “C’mon, let’s climb the stairs. We’ll walk through the Promenade.”
The activity was only slightly less frenetic on the ship’s main thoroughfare. Everything in the vast atrium was open and doing a bang-up business. The place looked like a Mall at Christmas, with shoppers’ bags a-bulge. They passed by Finnegan’s Café, where a trio of Irish singers were entertaining, while up ahead the usual bunch surrounded the upright piano at the cozier Barrister’s Pub.
At the end of the Promenade, they went down the stairs, crossed the Lobby and walked past the Odyssey Lounge, where a pianist-comedian regaled the crowd.