Savasana at Sea

by Ava Dunne

  Was he offering? I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “I’m not sure I want that right now. I’m not sure what I want right now.”

  “But you’re keeping your options open?”

  “Now that I have more options than planned?” My laugh sounded bitter, even to me. “Yeah, I’m keeping them open.”

  “There you are!” Roz dropped down on the chair behind me. “I’ve been eavesdropping.”

  “Sebastian’s good company, but I’m afraid our conversation isn’t that interesting,” I said.

  “Not on you,“ said Roz. “I trust you’ll tell me anything interesting you get up to. It has to do with Geri.”

  “She’s being treated like an inconvenience, not a dead human being,” I stated. “There’s something callous about it. Like the ship doesn’t want to deal with it.”

  “They don’t,” said Roz.

  “There have been so many problems on cruise lines in the past few months that they’re oversensitive to bad publicity,” said Sebastian.

  “But none of the problems were on this line,” I argued. “Or are they just better at keeping it out of the press than other companies?”

  “We haven’t had power outages or lacked water or lost people overboard or had noro-virus outbreaks,” Sebastian assured.

  “Besides,” said Roz, “Geri was a bitch. She didn’t inspire loyalty or the warm fuzzies, if you know what I mean.”

  “Did she fight with everybody?” I asked.

  “She had her posse, although they were mostly guests who only had to tolerate her for a week at a time. She could turn it on and play up to someone if it was worth her while. She was friendly with Matt and Wendy, who lead the dancing in the Supper Club, a couple of guys in the steakhouse. She was friends with Lorna, in the show, but Lorna could be best pals with Jack the Ripper and find the good in him. And she was friends with Nicolette, my least favorite person and biggest competition for feature spots in the shows. But yeah, Geri fought with people. Hans, mostly. They were always butting heads. She and Wendy were really tight for a long time, but Wendy was crying in the ladies’ room at two in the afternoon, coupla days back. She pretended some drunk passenger who’d hit on her the night before was causing trouble, but I know better. Geri upset her. She did that, y’know. Pretend to be your friend, and then turn.”

  “Drunk passengers at two in the afternoon aren’t all that rare,” said Sebastian. “Some of them get grabby.”

  “She was indiscreet to publicly fight with Viktor,” Roz smiled.

  “That could have gotten her fired,” said Sebastian.

  “Get rid of any romantic notions about cruise ship officers,” Roz advised. “You won’t see much of them anyway, and some of them will exploit you, given the chance. If you want to hook up with one, keep it on the down-low.”

  “Kind of hard if there’s no privacy,” I said. “Besides, I’m not here to bag one of the ship’s officers. I’m here to teach yoga.”

  “Exactly,” Roz nodded. “Geri was having a totally illegal affair with Viktor while also having a little something-something on the side with one of the ship’s electricians.”

  “She had Gary wrapped around her little finger,” Sebastian agreed. “Unfortunately. Gary deserves better.”

  “Why didn’t she get in trouble?” I asked.

  “She must have known something about someone that kept her safe,” Roz said.

  “What did you find out and how did you find it out?” Sebastian asked.

  “Just happened to have a lot to do in the area where Amy and Dhruv and that good-looking detective were having a chat.”

  “You think they didn’t notice?” Sebastian was amused. “Amy’s sharp, Dhruv catches details most would miss, and Cooke, well, he is a detective.”

  Roz tossed her hair. “I wouldn’t mind being questioned by him. I’d like to take him out for a spin.”

  “What do you know?” Sebastian’s patience wore thin.

  Roz paused, for the dramatic effect, and smiled. “That cop thinks Geri was murdered.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Do we pay you now?”

  “What?” I spun around, dropping my key card. I was shaken by Roz’s revelation that Detective Cooke believed Geri was murdered. I didn’t recognize the woman in front of me, her hair bobbed and waved, wearing a twenties-style flapper dress.

  “Are you the person who gets the money?”

  “What money?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me!” The woman hissed. “I need this job!”

  “I don’t have anything to do with whether or not you keep your job.”

  “Of course you do!” She checked a slim, bracelet-banded watch. “I have to run now. I’ll pay you in a few days.”

  “You don’t have—” I began, but it was too late. The woman fled down the corridor. I retrieved the key card from the carpet. Money? Payments? What was she talking about? I didn’t want to go into the room anymore; I needed to think.

  I walked back up to the passenger decks, keeping my stride motivated, but professional. As long as I moved with purpose, no one would question me, and I wouldn’t get in trouble. I passed Neil and his companion, headed for the Supper Club. Neil gave me a warm smile; the attractive blonde in her fifties beside him did not. I was puzzled, until I saw the proprietary clutch the woman had on Neil’s arm. Must be his, what? Wife? Mother? Not my business.

  I found the ship’s library, decorated to replicate that of an English manor house, and sank into one of the large, wingback chairs. I couldn’t be seen from the door, and could hide for a few minutes. Libraries offered sanctuary, and had since I was a child.

  What could Nicolette and that woman mean? I didn’t like the possibilities that swirled through my head. Payments. Worries about keeping a job. That sounded like blackmail.

  “There you are! Is this the new drop off point for the weeklies?” A young, blond man entered, wearing dark slacks, a white shirt with stripes on the epaulettes. I knew they were the officers’ ranking system, but I couldn’t interpret it without the cheat sheet from the employee handbook.

  “Um, do I know you?”

  “You’ve taken over for Geri, right?”

  “As a yoga teacher.” I enunciated each word.

  He stared at me, baffled. “Yes, she was that, I supposed, although she spent far more time in other people’s business than she did in the yoga studio.”

  “How long did she work here?”

  “Five, six months?” The man frowned. “Let’s see, I’m on my third contract here, and I came after The First One left. Then there was Jilly, and Mara, and Catharine and Obelisk — I get having an unusual name, but really, how far can you get called Obelisk? Then it was Geri. But only Geri had the side business. Making a pretty penny from it, I’m sure, so it’s not surprising you keep it up.” He withdrew an envelope from the pocket of his trousers and held it out to me. “It’s all here, but since it’s our first exchange, I’ll understand if you want to count it.” He had a faint undercurrent of an accent that I suspected was Scottish.

  “Count it?” I stood up, took the envelope from his hand, and opened it. The wad of green and white bills chilled me. “There’s money in here.”

  “Yes. The agreed-upon amount. Unless you’re upping the price?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  He shrugged. “Business.”

  I flung the envelope at him. He grabbed it before the bills could spill out. “Keep it.” I was in a cold fury. “I don’t want your money.”

  “You’re not changing the rules, are you?”

  “Why does everyone assume I’m picking up Geri’s blackmailing business?” I stomped my foot. The thick carpet muffled it, ruining the effect.

  “Why wouldn’t her shore contact step in and take over?”

  “I’m not her damn shore contact, I’m not taking over anything other than the yoga classes. I don’t get in other people’s business, I’m here to teach yoga!”

  “Okay, okay, let’s
just calm down.” He reached out to touch my arm, and I jerked away.

  A muscular, dark-haired man in uniform peered into the room. “Is everything all right in here?”

  “Yes, Murali, everything is fine,” the man reassured him.

  Murali turned to me. “Is that true, Miss Batchelder?” He had a deep, pleasant voice that matched his bulk.

  “Uh, yeah, everything’s fine, but how do you know my name?”

  “The Chief keeps his staff briefed.”

  “It’s fine. I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I like books and I needed to clear my head.”

  Murali smiled. “I do not tell tales on my colleagues unless they cause harm.” He withdrew.

  My companion turned back to me. “We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot and there seems to be a misunderstanding. I’m Ewan Drummond. I’m one of the Radio officers.”

  “Sophie Batchelder. Yoga instructor. Only yoga instructor. Well, sometimes, Pilates.”

  Ewan stuck out his hand. “I am pleased to meet ye, that I am, Sophie Batchelder, yoga instructor. I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you. We just heard that Geri’s shore partner was taking over for her, so those of us who had,” he hesitated, “business with Geri figured it was business as usual.”

  “Who told you that?” I demanded.

  Ewan thought about it. “I’m not sure.”

  “Would you think about it? Try to trace it back? Let me know?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

  “I want to know who’s starting rumors about me without even meeting me.” I sighed. “I’m sorry Geri was such a, a, not nice person, and that she took advantage of people’s pain. That’s not why I’m here. I’ll only be here for the rest of this cruise.”

  “It’s hard to keep a yoga instructor on the boat,” said Ewan. “If you want to stay, I’ll bet they’ll let you stay.”

  “Why can’t they keep an instructor?” I wondered if his answer would be different than Sebastian’s.

  “Pay’s not that great, and Jacques, the little weasel running the spa, works them to death. Hans tries to protect them best he can, but Jacques is a slimy little bastard.” He grinned and pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “What say we have a drink in the crew bar? That’ll get those rumor-mongers gossiping!”

  “No, thanks, I’ve had my limit tonight, and the cigarette smoke gives me a headache.” Taking a second look, I realized how attractive he was. He might have information I needed. I might enjoy trying to pry it out of him. “Maybe another time?”

  “Course. I’m usually on days, so my evenings are free.” He smiled at me.

  “Do you know who else Geri got payments from?” I had trouble saying the word “blackmail.”

  “Not really, no.” Ewan shook his head. “She made a good bit of cash, though, and wasn’t shy about boasting about it. I guess you’ll have to tell people it’s off as they seek you out with payments.”

  “She collected once a week?”

  “That she did.”

  I shook my head. “How awful.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask me what she had on me?”

  “No. It’s not my business. It’s yours. Geri made it hers, but she’s gone now, so it’s back to being just yours.”

  A strange expression flitted over Ewan’s face. “You’re an odd duck, Sophie Batchelder.”

  “So I’ve been told.” I shrugged. “It’s disturbing that she was murdered. Even if she was blackmailing people, she should have legal justice, not vigilante justice. No one seems to care. No matter how nasty a human being she was, that seems wrong, somehow.”

  “Yes, because it means one of us did it.”

  I looked up. “One of us?”

  “Someone on the ship killed her,” said Ewan. “It’s not like someone parachuted in, offed her, and swam away.”

  “Any idea who?”

  Ewan shook his head. “Haven’t dwelt on it, to tell the truth. There was that moment of shock you have, when someone you know’s suddenly dead. Then the relief. She’s gone, the threat’s gone, see? Then the frustration that the cycle was starting again with the shore contact. Only you’re telling me it’s not.”

  “It’s not,” I assured him. “But don’t you want to know who killed Geri? Who on this ship is capable of murder?”

  “Don’t you think anyone’s capable of murder, if pushed hard enough? Besides, wouldn’t it make sense that the only person in danger once Geri was gone is the one that took her place?”

  “That sounds like a threat.” My mouth went dry.

  “Sorry.” Ewan’s face flushed with embarrassment. “But it goes to figure. Geri pushed someone too far and wound up at the bottom of a staircase with a broken neck. If whoever did it feels what I felt, it would make sense that you’d be the next target. I’m suggesting caution, that’s all.”

  “Maybe I should take out an ad in the morning bulletin that I’m not continuing Geri’s business.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

  “They’d never print it,” Ewan said. “Geri’s goings-ons weren’t a secret, except maybe from top management. They were simply ignored.”

  “Why?”

  “If her other marks were like me, they were too embarrassed or too scared to lodge a formal complaint.”

  “How can I convince people I’m not a blackmailer?”

  “Wish I had an easy answer,” said Ewan. “I’ll spread whatever word I can. Roz likes you. Roz has her detractors, but she’s pretty loud with her opinions. And she’s loyal. Having Roz in your corner will help, especially since she and Geri spat at each other like sparring cats.”

  “It seems hopeless.” A wave of weariness washed over me.

  “Be careful. Don’t spook anyone. I’ll see you again. Can’t keep away from each other on a ship this size. Which means whoever murdered Geri is in too close a proximity to you.” He indicated I should precede him out of the library.

  We stepped into the hall, coming face-to-face with a small man, hopping around like an angry grasshopper. “No assignations in the library!” He insisted.

  “We were talking,” I protested.

  “Besides,” said Ewan, “the restaurant is your kingdom, Ajeet, not here.”

  “I tell them,” Ajeet insisted. “I tell them all about it.”

  Ewan shrugged. “Tell whoever you want. Not your business.”

  “You get fired.”

  Ewan stared at him, a cold, dead expression on his features. “I’m a lot harder to replace than you are.” He turned to me and made an exaggerated bow. “A pleasure to meet you.” He spun on his heel, stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked down the hall, whistling.

  “Stay out of trouble,” Ajeet warned me.

  “I intend to,” I retorted.

  …

  I headed for the Sun Deck to scope out the territory for the Moonlight Yoga class. I wanted to talk to Detective Cooke, but I doubted he’d be in the cabin he used as his office, and it was too late to show up at the door of his personal cabin for anything innocent. Roz would be back at the bar by now, after the second show, but I wasn’t up to gossip or banter, and if I had to meet one more person tonight, I would scream.

  Looking down to the Lido deck, I saw Detective Cooke sitting at a table with a beautiful blonde woman who wore a white dress that left little to the imagination. Think of the devil and he appears, I thought. Cooke and the woman leaned in towards each other. The woman talked. I wasn’t sure if the detective was listening, or looking down the woman’s dress and calculating his odds. In any case, I wasn’t about to interrupt them.

  I walked the Sun Deck, determined to get a sense of the space, so I could create my yoga sequences for the Moonlight class. The Sun Deck circled around the pool with high-railed balconies overlooking said pool on the Lido Deck. I could see Detective Cooke and the blonde, and stepped back, not wanting to spy. The rock-climbing wall took up part of this deck, and a bar curved around it. The only decks above the Sun Deck held the VIP suites, so
the view was spectacular, even at night. A waxing moon, a clear, starry sky reflected in the dark waters, and a soft breeze. A cliché of a romantic night.

  A few people lingered by the inner rail, watching moonlight swimmers. Couples drifted along the outer rail, overlooking the water, talking, flirting, kissing. I closed my eyes for a moment, imaging myself with Jack on the ship, as passengers. A romantic cruise. A honeymoon cruise.

  Unfortunately, the image of my co-worker Alyssa leaning down to kiss Jack in the restaurant after he dumped me intruded.

  Who was I kidding? I imagined the Jack I wanted, not the Jack who was real.

  I inhaled, long and deep. The smell of salt air and engine oil greeted me, along with something deeper and fragrant. I tried to place it. Rosemary?

  An arm hooked around my throat, yanking me backwards, into darkness, against a strong, male form. The scent of rosemary was stronger. He pinned me against him with one arm, pushing against my throat with the other. I struggled, trying to remember the details from the Model Mugging class I’d taken in college.

  “I don’t pay,” a deep voice growled.

  I tried to speak, tried to fight, but he had me immobilized. I gasped, struggling for air, getting dizzy.

  “I take revenge. Remember that.”

  “What the devil do you think you’re doing to that woman?” Another voice, male, cut in.

  “Remember me,” he growled into my ear and flung me forward.

  The other man caught me. The scent of gardenia replaced the scent of rosemary, and the woman beside him asked, “Sophie?”

  “Stella?” I croaked.

  “What was that all about?” The man asked. “Do you want me to go after him?”

  Detective Cooke was only one deck down. He could come to my rescue like a knight in shining armor, if I let him.

  “No,” I gasped. “Thank you. I need a minute.”

  “Sit down,” said Stella. She wore an apricot-colored tea-length gown, with her platinum hair in a chignon. The dark-haired man beside her was in a bespoke navy blue suit. They looked like something out of a classic Hollywood movie. He helped me to one of the deck chairs. My knees gave way, and I sank into it. These were padded, and so much more comfortable than the ones we had beside the crew pool. “Get her a brandy, darling.”