Cake Tastings and Killers

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Cake Tastings and Killers Page 17

by A. R. Winters


  After the ceremony, I went back to the bridal sweet with Caroline and her bridesmaids. Her wedding party had seven people, large enough that there was always someone from her circle nearby to help her. Mostly, I kept my eye on my watch to make sure we didn't go over time.

  By the time I got back downstairs to reunite Caroline and Simon Lambert, I was beginning to drag. I stuck near the back of the group to try to cover it. Until the Lamberts started their first dance, I thought I was doing a pretty good job. But as the band struck up the first notes of a jazzy dance standard, Danielle came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.

  "We've got everything else from here," she said.

  "There's still another two hours at least," I said, waving her away. "I'm still on duty."

  "I just took you off," Danielle insisted. "Get some rest. You've earned it the last few weeks."

  The big sister part of my brain wanted to argue with Danielle. The rest of me was exhausted. So I hugged her, thanked her, and walked back toward the garden cottage.

  After my bath, I had a different problem: I was downright bored. I figured a nice walk would do the trick, especially if I followed it with a nap. Since there was a wedding reception being held literally yards from my grandmother's front door, I left through the back door and headed toward the boathouse.

  I saw a figure near the dock as I approached. At first, I figured one of the Lamberts' guests had wandered too far away from the main house. No problem, I was great with giving directions.

  But as I got closer, the poor posture and blaring red skin became more familiar. As did the man and his sullen expression. Nicholas Lloyd.

  Things were different this time. I marched over to him, forcing a sweet-as-pie smile to my face.

  "You're trespassing, Nicholas," I said. "Leave. Now."

  Lloyd's eyes slid to me casually, and a strange smile settled on his face. But he didn’t move.

  "You should be more polite to me, Laura," he said. "I'm gonna be your boss someday."

  "I already told you my sister isn’t selling," I said through gritted teeth. "And if she were? I wouldn't be part of the deal."

  "Oh, come on, you're too smart to be so naïve. You think a single wedding will save an outfit like this?" He gestured widely to the grounds.

  "I think this part of the grounds is for staff and guests only. Since you're neither, it’s time for you to go." It had been a long month and I didn't have the patience for Lloyd or his schemes.

  Nicholas folded his arms, tilted his head to the side, and glared at me. “I may be going now, but mark my words, Laura: I’m going to get this property. And I’m gonna get it for the price I want. If you love your sister, you should tell her to sell now. Something big’s coming this way.”

  Before I could ask the developer what he meant, Lloyd brushed past me and walked back toward the parking lot, sticking parallel to the bushes. Probably so he couldn't be seen from the reception.

  I kept my eyes focused on Nicholas Lloyd until he completely disappeared. As he went, I couldn't shake the feeling that our troubles were just beginning.

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  Sneak Peak: Killer Cruise

  Chapter One

  It was with pride and barely concealed excitement that I walked down one of the below-deck hallways of the Swan of the Seas after collecting the tools of my new trade: a smartphone and a notebook computer.

  Tucked under my arm were the two ugly blue blouses I’d been issued that made up the entirety of my uniform. Because of my unique role, which would see me scurrying back and forth across the entire ship, I was exempt from wearing dress pants or a skirt and was permitted to wear jeans.

  Having collected everything I needed for my new job, I was on my way to very my own cabin—well, mine and my mystery roommate’s.

  After an abortive attempt at being a journalist at a small town newspaper back home, I’d left Nebraska to sail the seven seas and, to quote another cliché, find myself. And I was going it alone. It was the bravest thing I’d done in my life, though sometimes I wondered if it was also the stupidest.

  I felt a tinge of pride when I got to my cabin, seeing the small plastic nameplate stuck to the wall outside filled with two printed names: A. James, who was me, and S. Williams, who was presumably my new roommate.

  “Gosh, I hope she’s nice,” I said to myself under my breath. I was feeling optimistic though; she had the same last name and first initial as my best friend. She had to be nice, right? The only worry I had was that I hadn’t yet met her; somehow, we’d missed each other during training.

  My hand hesitated. Should I knock on the door of my own room? Or should I just use the keycard and let myself in right away? I clutched the keycard in my hand as another thought occurred to me.

  What if S. Williams was a man?

  What if he was a handsome man? Wouldn’t that be an interesting way to start my new life? But I was pretty sure the cruise liner company had policies against cohabitation with members of the opposite sex. A rather outdated policy, in my opinion.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  “Come in! It’s open!”

  I cocked my head. That voice. It sounded like it came from a thousand miles away.

  Tentatively, I pushed down on the heavy metal door handle, which operated a heavy metal lever to unseal the door. Although the door was sturdy, it swung open easily—if a bit slowly—and I peered inside.

  “Adrienne! Addy! Addy! Addy!” The voice was from a thousand miles away. “Yay! I told them to put us in the same room, but I didn’t think they’d actually do it!”

  “Samantha? What on earth are you doing here?” My mouth agape, I shook my head in disbelief.

  I’d left my best friend back home in Nebraska a month ago, when I left for my employee training and a few days of solo R&R before my first cruise.

  My best friend was sitting on the bottom bunk bed. Her hair had been trimmed to a cute little blonde bob and her chubby cheeks were, as almost always, locked in an indefatigable smile. Samantha bounced to her feet and grabbed me in a tight squeeze across the doorway.

  “I couldn’t let you go off and travel the world without me!” she squealed in my ear.

  “But… how?”

  Samantha let me go and I stepped inside our small room, to get a better look around.

  “It’s easy. A couple of days ago, I was browsing a job site, and there was a last-minute position here.”

  “But what about training?” I asked, blinking at her. Seeing something, even a person, in an unexpected place can leave you feeling a bit off-kilter.

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, you know. When you’ve been working on cruise ships for five years, you don’t actually need to attend the training.”

  “But you…” I shook my head and laughed. I knew for a fact she’d never even seen an ocean before—at least she hadn’t a month earlier when I last saw her. Five years cruising experience indeed. “You lied!”

  Sam flicked her short hair defensively and gave me a charming smile. “For a good cause! It’s your first time going off on
your own for so long, and God knows cruises can be dangerous. What if something happened to you? I’d never forgive myself!”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know I can take care of myself.”

  Sam eyed me warily. I knew she didn’t have much faith in my abilities, but she was trying to be polite. “Sure,” she said finally. “But it’s your first time on a big ship like this, and who knows what kinds of people are here? All kinds of crazies in close quarters—”

  “Like you!” I interrupted with a grin.

  Sam looked relieved. “Glad you’re not mad at me. I just—you know, the last time you went on a road trip alone, last summer? What happened then… well, I just can’t let that happen again. I needed to be with you, even if that meant fibbing a little on my resume.”

  Refusing to let that terrible memory cloud this important day, I smiled at Sam. “Unbelievable. It’s so exciting you’re here!”

  “I know!” said Sam, though her excitement had seemed to fade rapidly.

  “Are you okay?” I asked with a frown. “You look a little… green.”

  Samantha gave me a lopsided smile, held up a pill she produced from somewhere, and popped it into her mouth. “It’s because we’re still docked. Once the ship gets going, I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re seasick? And we haven’t even left yet!”

  She gave me a sad nod. “I’ll be fine. I read all about it. Apparently the body adapts.”

  “Does it? For everyone?”

  She shrugged. “It better. Speaking of everyone, what time is it? Don’t we have a meeting to get to?”

  “Hold on…” I whipped out my smartphone. “Smile!”

  Sam gave me a thumbs-up and a passably genuine smile, though I knew she was having to force it more than normal. She also looked a little green, but that would be fixed with the liberal use of photo filters.

  “I’m glad you thought to capture this moment,” said Sam, her smile now wan.

  “Ye-es. But actually, it’s work! #FirstDay #CrewLife … I’ll think of some more.”

  “What do you mean that’s work? Taking selfies?”

  I bobbed my head excitedly. “Yep! And that wasn’t a selfie because I wasn’t in it. I’m the social media manager, Sam, which means I spend all day taking pictures and Tweeting and Instagramming and Facebooking and posting things on the ship’s digital displays and customer information websites.”

  Sam was frowning now. “That’s not fair. I’m just a customer liaison. That means I have to listen to all their complaints and help them with all their problems.”

  I gave her a supportive shoulder squeeze. “That’s awesome! You’ll get to meet so many interesting people. I’m a little bit jealous!” This was a one hundred percent, total, absolute lie, but it was also sparkling white. I was pretty sure my job was going to be way more fun than hers, but I didn’t want to get her down.

  “Yeah, maybe. Come on. Let’s go.”

  Remembering she’d said something about a staff meeting, I pulled up my schedule using the staff app on the phone. She was right. Although my role was different, I was technically part of the Customer Liaison Team like Sam and we indeed had a meeting.

  We walked arm in arm down the hall and I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Of course, I was actually floating on water, but I guess they’re pretty similar feelings. I wanted to grill Sam more about how she faked her way into the job, but that conversation would have to wait until we were back in our room with the door sealed tight.

  “We must be going the right way. Can you hear all those people?”

  From ahead of us, we could hear the echoing chatter of a small group of people. Down below deck, it was all hard metal surfaces and sounds bounced around like in a cave. Up in the passenger areas, though, it was more like being inside a proper building: carpets and wallpapers and wood paneling absorbed sound normally rather than the utilitarian echo chamber of the ‘working’ levels.

  “Know where you’re going?” The voice had a rich, melodious tone and when I turned to look, I saw that the girl it was coming from had a smile just as friendly as Sam’s. In fact, given Sam’s current state, it was even friendlier. She must have heard us as she’d been walking down a corridor that intersected the one we were on.

  “I think so,” I said, offering the girl a smile.

  I had been worried about not knowing anyone aboard the ship, but then Sam showed up, and now this girl, even though we’d just met, had an air of friendliness about her that seemed infectious.

  “Cece Blake,” she said, sticking out a hand.

  Sam and I both exchanged quick, gentle handshakes with her.

  “Adrienne James.”

  “Samantha Williams.”

  She gave us a once-over, her eyes flicking over our uniforms. “Ooh, social media manager? That’s a new one, you lucky thing.”

  I beamed at her.

  “And customer liaison.” Cece’s smile grew notably tighter. “That can be real interesting.”

  “What do you do?” I asked her at the same time as I read her name badge. Idiot, I mentally kicked myself.

  “Housekeeping,” she said, tapping a short-nailed finger against a badge that said exactly that under her name.

  Our friendly meeting was interrupted by a thumping sound.

  “What was that?” asked Sam with a frown.

  I made a mental note to remind her to stop asking so many questions. If she was going to pretend she had five years of shipboard experience, then she really needed to pretend to know what was going on.

  “Sounded like a giant bag of meat smacking against a metal bulwark,” said Cece with a shrug.

  It kind of did. “Is that… a thing?”

  Cece snorted and used a hand to cover up a giggle.

  “Hell-ohhhh?” came a slurred voice.

  From the same direction Cece had come, a large man lumbered into view, ping-ponging his way off the metal bulwarks.

  “Great,” said Cece under her breath in a tone which indicated she was anything but delighted by the vision before us.

  “Ah! Wenches!” The man stopped his lumbering and leaned against a wall. “Is wenches right? Or is that taverns?” He had a worried frown, and he dropped his hands to his knees to steady himself. Sweat was beading on his forehead.

  “Sir, this area is restricted to staff and crew,” said Cece politely but firmly.

  “Crew! Ah!” The man beamed. “Which crew member would like to show me back to my quarters?” He raised a hand to his mouth to cover a yawn.

  “That’s my job,” said Sam glumly, her beaming smile now a distant memory.

  Cece winced. “Yeah, you better take him to his cabin. Just take that service elevator up to the VIP quarters and his room is right around the corner.” Cece pointed down toward the end of the hallway. “Goodness knows how he got down here though. You need your keycard to make it work.”

  Sam’s hand went up and reflexively touched her ID and access card, which hung from a lanyard around her neck like most staff members. “Wish me luck…”

  Cece took her by the shoulders. “Just don’t get too close to him. Understand?”

  Sam nodded, though she didn’t look happy about it. “See you in a bit…”

  We waved her off and watched as she led the man into the elevator. When the doors had closed, we resumed our journey to the meeting.

  “I guess she’s had plenty of experience with passengers like that,” said Cece, shaking her head to herself. “I’d hate to do her job.”

  “Plenty of experience?”

  “Samantha Williams, right? I was looking over the list of new members. She’s been doing this since I was in high school.”

  “Oh, yeah. Five years, all right.” While I was happy to have Sam here, I wasn’t overly pleased about having to play along with her little ruse. “But don’t you have to deal with customers like that too? You have to go into their rooms.”

  “Yep, but we do that when the passengers aren’t there. And anyway, if I don’t
want to talk to them, I just tell them I don’t hablo Ingles.”

  I giggled. “I guess me and her couldn’t get away with that in our jobs!”

  Cece shook her head. “Nope. You have to be nice to people like old Patrick Murphy back there.”

  “You know that guy?”

  “He’s famous. Infamous, rather. Takes about a hundred cruises a year and acts like an idiot on every one.”

  “Is he… violent?” I asked, worried for Sam.

  “He’s not punchy, but he is handsy. I guess your friend is used to dealing with people like that though.”

  I pondered that thought for a moment. Back in Nebraska, Sam had been able to handle herself, but I worried that out here at sea was a completely different kettle of fish.

  “She’s a tough cookie.”

  “Awesome. There’ll be plenty of people up on the VIP floor anyway. Lots of them like to get here early and settle in before the riff-raff arrive.” We reached a room with a wide-open door and a couple of people hanging out outside. “Come on, in here.”

  I followed Cece into the room labeled Staff Meeting Room Three. Like a lot of the non-passenger areas of the ship, the ceilings were low and everything felt cramped. The room had several dozen chairs in it, and a small elevated section at one end from which presentations could be given.

  There were already about twenty people in the room and the air bubbled with excitement. I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures. I probably wouldn’t use them, but I figured something good might turn up.

  “Sweet. The best seats are still free.” Cece sat down in the very back row, closest to the door we had entered through, and patted the seat next to her. I instinctively hesitated. At school, I always sat at the front of the class and still had the childish thought in the back of my mind that sitting at the back was for the ‘bad apples.’

 

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