Savasana at Sea

by Ava Dunne

  “I was on the Lido Deck last night. One deck down.”

  “I saw you.”

  “You could have screamed. I would have come up. Maybe not as fast as I’d like.” He gestured to the cane, leaning against the desk. “Or you could have come to Topaz Deck later.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be alone.”

  Cooke looked away. “Probably wise.”

  I made a decision. “Chief Bakshi asked me to come to him first with any new information. Protocol.”

  Cooke looked back at me, interested. “But?”

  “What if Geri had something on him?”

  “Do you think it’s likely?”

  “I don’t want to think that. From what I’ve heard, he has a good reputation. But I don’t know who was in Geri’s power, or why. If she had something on Chief Bakshi, it would make sense that she was still getting away with it. Wouldn’t he shut her down otherwise?”

  “If he had evidence.”

  “I have to tell him I was attacked last night. Will you act surprised when he shares that information?”

  “I’ll do my best.” He gave me a small smile.

  “But I don’t want to tell him about the blackmail.”

  Cooke considered it. “I have to tell him, but I don’t have to tell him how I found out.”

  “He’ll ask.”

  “I’ll think of something.” He watched me. “I wish I had the manpower so someone could stay close to you.”

  “It might scare off Geri’s killer.”

  “That’s the point. You’re now a target.”

  I shivered. “I know.”

  …

  I pushed the eleven o’clock class with longer, flowing sequences, and more intense breath. I caught myself holding my own breath a few times, and pushed myself. No one complained. Everyone rose to the challenge. Neil gave me a thumbs-up on his way out as I chugged down a large bottle of water before my next mat-cleansing session.

  I used the cleaning time to figure out what I was going to tell Chief Bakshi.

  …

  “You were grabbed on the Sun Deck?” Chief Bakshi leaned back in his chair and frowned at me. “And he smelled like rosemary?”

  I swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Why were you up there?”

  “I’m teaching a Moonlight Yoga class. I needed to get a sense of the space.”

  “You didn’t see anyone?”

  “I saw lots of people, but most of them were caught up in the romance of the night.”

  He flashed me a brief smile, then sobered. “Another voice you couldn’t recognize?”

  “That’s right.” It sounded silly, even to me.

  He frowned. “What do you think ‘I don’t pay, I take revenge’ refers to?”

  I swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It doesn’t sound good,” I admitted. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  He watched me for a minute. “Thanks for letting me know,” the Chief said. “Be careful, okay?”

  “I’m just trying to keep my head down and get through the rest of the cruise.”

  He didn’t look like he believed me as I left his office.

  …

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were working.” I backed out of the cabin I shared with Angie when I found a petite, dark-haired woman cleaning. There wasn’t room for both of us to skirt around each other.

  “I am so sorry,” The woman stepped into the hallway, eyes firmly on the floor. “I wait.”

  “I’ll just be a second,” I said. “I’m just on my way to lunch. I apologize.”

  “It is I who am sorry.”

  “I’m interfering with your work, not the other way around. I’m Sophie.” I waited, but the woman said nothing. “What’s your name?”

  “Kulap.”

  “That’s a pretty name.”

  The woman did not look up, but gave the ghost of a smile. “Thank you.”

  “What does it mean?”

  She hesitated, then said, “Rose.”

  “It suits you,” I said. When, again, Kulap did not respond, I added, “Where are you from?”

  “Thailand.”

  “Oh! You’re far from home.”

  “Yes.”

  It was clear that Kulap wouldn’t add anything. I grabbed another shirt and stepped back out of the room, so Kulap could re-enter. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Thank you for everything you do.” Kulap merely nodded, so I scampered back up to the crew dining room.

  …

  “You look tired.” I slid into the seat beside Roz.

  “We were called in to work new choreography around Arabella and Ray, the two featured dancers who joined us from the reality show Dance-aholics.” Roz shot daggers at the handsome couple seated opposite us before placing her head on the table. “They signed a ten month contract, God knows why. Dance like angels and drink like sailors.”

  “Let me guess, you drank with them last night, after the second show,” I giggled. “I sort of recognize them. Of course, everyone is starting to look vaguely familiar.”

  “You’re not drinking enough,” said Roz. “Soon, we’ll all be your best friends.” She straightened up.

  “You’ve got mustard on your forehead.” I dabbed at Roz with my napkin.

  “Thank you. You’re a true friend.” She glanced over my shoulder and raised her voice. “Hey, Kiki! Heard you had a little one-on-one with that cute detective and his limp.”

  The attractive, curvy young woman with a cascade of light brown hair shook her head at Roz. “We worked on his leg.”

  “Which leg?” Roz snorted. “The third leg?”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, girl. I don’t do happy endings.” She grabbed two oranges and a banana and raised an eyebrow in Roz’s direction. “On duty.”

  Roz burst into laughter. “Bet his scar is sexy!”

  Kiki didn’t respond; just sashayed past Ewan Drummond as he entered and looked around, then headed straight for us.

  “Babe, looks like you have a fan,” said Roz. “That’ll earn you some enemies. Ewan’s yummy.”

  “Sophie, a word?” Ewan asked quietly. “Hello Roz.”

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Roz purred.

  Ewan laughed. “Hi, sexy.” She beamed at him. He sobered. “Sophie?”

  “Of course.” I got up and followed him into the hallway. Ewan exchanged pleasantries with several staff and crewmembers heading into the dining room before pulling me to one side of the corridor. “What’s wrong?”

  “What in bloody hell were you thinking when you told that detective that Geri was a blackmailer?”

  I stared at him, willing my mouth not to drop open. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I most certainly am not. Have you gone completely ‘round the twist?”

  “Since I have no idea what that means, possibly.” I crossed my arms in front of me. “Geri was a blackmailer. She hurt people on this ship. Her colleagues, and who knows who else. Don’t you think that contributed to her death?”

  “Do you have any idea how much you’re upsetting people by making that public?”

  “If you ask me — and I realize nobody did, but too gosh darned bad — someone should have said something to somebody so that the powers that be on this bolt bucket could have fired her and kept her from hurting anyone else.”

  Ewan shook his head. “The detective is asking questions. That means that the those who were blackmailed are getting scared again.”

  “They were already scared when they assumed I stepped into Geri’s ballet flats,” I retorted. “Would have been nice if they’d given me the benefit of the doubt.”

  “People are frightened, Sophie. Terrified. That’s why they paid Geri to keep her mouth shut. There’s plenty going on aboard this ship that managers turn a blind eye to, and plenty the managers do that shore management turn a blind eye to. But if the authorities start digging and keep digging—” he let out a breath.

  “Ye
s, I get it. Everyone’s here because they have something to hide. Or running. Once Geri’s death was a murder, the dirty laundry was going to air, one way or another. This way’s better, if you ask me. They can tell Detective Cooke in private, rather than risking Geri or whoever Geri worked with making it public.”

  “They’re police.”

  “I was brought up to believe the policeman was my friend.”

  “Remember that you’re on a ship with people from all over the world. Some people are used to police states, where, to say the least, the policeman most definitely is not one’s friend. Quite the opposite.”

  I took a deep breath, held it for a beat, and let it out slowly. “I didn’t think of it in those terms.”

  “There are a lot of very nervous people on board now.” Ewan sighed and passed a hand over his face. “This ship is like a very small village. Everyone knows everything.”

  “They don’t, or Geri wouldn’t have gained traction to blackmail. Chief Bakshi would have stopped it. Wouldn’t he?”

  “It’s a paradox. People know a lot. They pretend to know more than they do. They ignore certain secrets. You’re new. People don’t trust you yet. They’re likely to be even more suspicious of you after this.”

  “Sophie? Are you okay?” Sebastian Anger joined us. Taller and broader than Ewan, he glowered down at the man. Taller and broader. Like my attacker.

  “Yes, I’m fine. We’re having a difference of opinion, that’s all.” I looked from one to the other.

  “You feel safe?” Sebastian continued.

  “What are you implying, Anger?” Ewan asked.

  “I asked Sophie a question, Drummond. I’d rather she answered it.”

  “You’re both giving me a headache,” I stated, and walked away from them.

  …

  I slipped into one of the restrooms, figuring neither Sebastian nor Ewan had the cojones to follow me into the ladies’ room, especially a public one that might contain passengers. Um, guests. I needed a few minutes to catch my breath. Sebastian couldn’t be my attacker, could he?

  Before I could orient myself in the room’s shades of blue and cream, I heard the sound of a woman crying. Turning the corner, I saw a young woman perched on the edge of one of the blue, silk-covered fainting couches. She wore the red-and-black uniform designating her as a Casino cocktail waitress, the high red-and-black heels with playing card embellishments kicked off beside her. Was this another of Geri’s victims?

  “What can I do to help?” I dropped down beside her.

  The woman gave a little squeak and looked up. “Oh, good, you’re crew. I was afraid I’d get in trouble, but I had to get away.” She sniffed. “I’m being silly, that’s all. I’m new. It’s my first cruise, and I’m just so tired.”

  “I know the feeling.” I wet a paper towel and handed it to the young woman, who wiped her face. “Those shoes don’t help, either. Are you doing calf stretches whenever you don’t have to wear them?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “Yes. Like this.” I sat on the floor, stretched my legs straight out in front, and demonstrated the point-and-flex moves.

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “You should come to yoga class, too. That’ll help. Your lower back must be killing you between the high heels and the cocktail trays.” I winced. That was a poor choice of words.

  She shook her head. “I saw it on that crew memo thingy they send out every morning? But I’m not allowed to take class. ‘Cause I’m a waitress? And we can’t take classes off-hours with guests?”

  One of those guests stepped in to the room, past us, and into a stall. The young woman jumped up and started fussing with her hair and make-up in the mirror. “Thanks. I have to get back before they miss me. I’m sorry. I just felt so. . .alone.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Over fifteen hundred people on the ship and I feel alone. Go figure, right?” She fluffed her curly dark hair. “Thanks again. I’ll do those exercises.” She slipped into her heels and was gone.

  I heard the toilet flush in the stall and made a show of washing my hands before leaving the room. I definitely needed to add a staff-only class.

  …

  I sat by the crew pool to clear my head. A few of the nightshift crew hung around, and I recognized some of the entertainment staff, but no one to whom I felt I could talk. I sat back in a chair and closed my eyes. Upset, I named. It’s okay to be upset. These people are being. . .unfair. They don’t know you. They don’t know you’re trying to help, not hurt.

  “Rough day?” Detective Duncan Cooke sat in the chair beside mine.

  “I’m feeling a little put upon.”

  “Because you had the guts to voice the word ‘blackmail’?” He stared at me for a minute. “You okay? About the attack on the Sun Deck —”

  “If that guy didn’t have his arm pressed against my throat, I would have screamed,” I said. “Fortunately, the Orsinis were there.”

  “The Orsinis. They’re characters.”

  “And then some,” I agreed. “But they’re nice.”

  “I wonder what they’re hiding?” Detective Cooke mused.

  “Why would they be hiding anything, Detective?” I asked. “Or do you think everyone is hiding something?” A couple of crew members passed by, glaring at us. I ignored the hostility.

  “Please, call me Duncan,” he said. “Yes, I do think everyone is hiding something.”

  I thought about it. “You’re probably right.” I gestured to his leg. “You should come to class sometime. It might help the muscles heal faster.”

  Several different expressions crossed his face, until he achieved one that was neutral. “Maybe I will,” he said. “Someone should keep an eye on you.”

  The look he gave me made me blush. “Was it personal?” I asked. “Your injury?”

  “My damn leg. I’d say it was personal.” He frowned, then smoothed out his expression. “My case. Yes, it was personal. And yes, before you ask, someone died. I’d rather not discuss it.”

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m sorry. But I still think you should come to class.”

  “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

  “To a fault.”

  “Do you believe in the principles behind yoga practice?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I don’t always fulfill them. I try not to cause harm, and treat people the way I’d like to be treated. I’m trying to quell the instant sarcastic comment, especially when I’m doing it to get attention. That’s one of the things that bothers me about Geri’s murder. No one seems to care that a woman was killed and the murderer is still walking around. Someone deliberately caused harm and could do it again. I don’t know much about murder; I don’t watch most of the crime shows. But taking a life has to feel powerful. If you’re the type of person who doesn’t feel remorse, wouldn’t it be akin to that line about potato chips? You don’t stop at just one?”

  “It depends on why the person committed the murder,” said Duncan. “If it was in a moment of rage, an accident gone too far. Or if it was carefully planned. But there’s always potential that a killer will kill again. Are you afraid?”

  “I should be,” I said. “But I’m angry. People trash-talk Geri. Maybe she wasn’t the nicest person in the world, but she was a person. Yeah, life goes on, but people are acting like she never existed. That bothers me.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” said Duncan. “Don’t forget to take your idea further. Geri no longer exists. Someone might want to do the same to you.”

  …

  Lydia was the only one who showed up for the 2 PM Pilates class. “We can cancel,” she said.

  “Nonsense,” I said, realizing how much I sounded like my Aunt Marjorie talking, when I was the same age as Lydia. “You showed up. You get a private class.”

  “Like Kristina Murray?”

  “Yes, except we’re doing Pilates, not yoga.”

  “Is she as pretty off-screen as on?”

  “Prettier.”

  “Is she
nice?”

  “Yes.” I knew I hesitated just a fraction too long with my response. “But I can’t talk about her. Confidentiality and all that.”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry.” Lydia flushed. “I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

  Lydia stayed through the 3:30 yoga class, which had a whole new cadre of participants, many of them male. One of those males was Duncan Cooke, looking better than he should in sweat pants and a tank top.

  Stella Orsini joined us, wearing a pale pink yoga ensemble, her hair in a bun. “I always mean to come to the early class, but I’m a night owl. Rarely haul myself out of bed in time. If I see a sunrise, it’s because I haven’t been to bed yet.”

  “I’m happy to see you whenever you show up,” I said. “Maybe you’ll come to the Moonlight Yoga class tonight, at 10 PM on the Sun Deck?”

  Stella beamed at her. “Maybe I will.” She giggled. “Maybe I’ll even convince my husband to come, if I can wrench him away from the Tiki Bar.”

  The class ran well, in spite of two young men, reeking of beer, who fell asleep during the first child’s pose. As long as they didn’t snore, I was content to let them rest. Duncan worked through most of the poses; I only modified one or two for his leg. As the light shifted into late afternoon, a handful of us adjusted positions several times; one of the women in the class wore a diamond choker and a set of diamond tennis bracelets that kept catching the light and hitting us in the face. At one point, Stella caught my eye, jerked her head in the woman’s direction and winked, as if to agree with what my thought: Why wear diamonds to yoga class?

  Because she can, of course, was the unspoken response.

  I noticed that didn’t stop Stella from engaging the woman in conversation and suggesting she and her husband join Stella and her husband in the Tiki Bar, and, later on, at the Supper Club.

  “That felt better than I expected,” Duncan admitted, handing me the mat he borrowed.

  “How often have you taken yoga?” I asked. “You move well.”