Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 03 - Secrets at Sea

by Peggy Dulle

  Okay, that wasn’t exactly the truth. He’d find all my photos and certainly take them all. Then he’d wonder why I had them and ask more questions and make me answer them, too.

  Hansen said, “We already tried to search your room.”

  “What do you mean, tried?” I asked.

  Tom ignored my comment, “Then why the hell are you here bothering us?”

  “It’s just that you’ve been in town, how long?” Hansen asked.

  “Four or five hours,” I answered, “Why?”

  “You don’t seem like people who would throw their clothes and things all over the hotel room.”

  “What?” Tom and I said in unison.

  “Yeah, it looks like someone trashed your room between the time you left for dinner and when we got there to search it.”

  “There’s something going on that you’re not telling me,” Ramirez said, “and you’re not getting on the cruise ship until I know what it is!”

  Tom grabbed my arm. “Let’s get back to our room. I want to see what they’re talking about.”

  “We’ll follow you,” Hansen said.

  We got our car from the valet and drove back to the inn, Ramirez and Hansen following in their unmarked police car. To me that always seemed like an oxymoron. How could it really be unmarked if everyone could tell it was a police vehicle? After all, it had those lights by both side mirrors that you can focus on people and a row of blue lights in the back window.

  Tom parked in the lot and we walked toward our room, Hansen and Ramirez following us. It was like having Shelby herding me. Now I knew how little David felt and I didn’t like it one bit.

  Tom opened the door.

  “Oh my!” I put my hand over my mouth. Tom’s clothes were spewed everywhere. The couch cushions had been lifted and tossed to the side.

  I started into the room, but Tom stopped me. “Did you dust for prints or anything?”

  “Nope, it doesn’t do any good in these hotels,” Hansen said. “We’d get a million prints all layered over each other. Is anything missing?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Tom said.

  “Did you have another piece in here?” Ramirez asked.

  “Piece?” I asked.

  “Gun,” Tom said, scanning the room. “No, I left my Glock locked up at home.”

  Ramirez nodded and said, “The first thing I’d check is for your passports. We’ve had some people breaking into hotel rooms and stealing them.”

  Tom nodded.

  They seemed to be getting along a little better. Anything would be an improvement over the looming fist-fight from a few minutes ago.

  I didn’t say anything, but the first thing I did notice was that my pictures were gone - every single one.

  “I’ll check the bedroom,” I told them.

  “I’ll go with you,” Detective Hansen said.

  We went into the bedroom. It was in total disarray, too, with the bed sheets and comforter pulled off.

  Hansen raised his eyebrows. I’m sure he had noticed the twin beds, but he didn’t make a comment.

  “What about your passport or was it in your purse?” he asked.

  “It’s in my small suitcase.”

  “The one smashed over there?” he pointed to a corner.

  “Oh no!” I rushed over, opened the case and searched the inner pockets. I sighed and pulled out my passport, driver’s license, and credit card. “No, they’re all here.”

  “Now that’s interesting. What else did you have in here worth stealing?”

  “Nothing I know of,” I said.

  “I’d have thought they would have at least taken your credit card. That would have been easy to use or sell.”

  “Maybe they didn’t see it. It was tucked inside my passport.”

  “Maybe,” he said, but he looked skeptical.

  “Let’s go see if Tom’s found his passport.”

  In the living room, Tom threw his clothes back into his suitcase. He cussed under his breath and Ramirez grinned.

  “Did you find your passport, Tom?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he held it up. “It was still in my suitcase’s side pocket.

  “Anything missing from the bedroom?” Ramirez said.

  “No,” I shook my head. “It’s just the same mess that’s in here.”

  “They left her credit card,” Hansen told Ramirez.

  When Ramirez and Tom looked at me, both raised just one eyebrow. It struck me like the punch line of a great joke. Maybe it was a response to the tension that had been building since I’d found Betsy’s body, then the purse snatching and now this. I started giggling.

  “Liza?” Tom said.

  “Miss Wilcox?” Ramirez said.

  Hansen, who was standing next to me, chuckled. He’d seen the eyebrow thing, too.

  When Ramirez and Tom frowned together, Hansen and I laughed out loud. It felt good to laugh after all the negative emotions I’d been feeling in the last few days.

  “What the hell!” Ramirez barked.

  Hansen put his hand up. “Nothing, Jack. Let’s let these people clean up this mess. Nothing is missing.” He handed me a card. “If you find something is gone, call me.”

  I nodded and put the card into my sweater pocket.

  The two detectives left.

  Tom scowled at me, “What the hell were you and Hansen laughing about?”

  I thought about where Hansen and I had been before we started laughing. Did Tom think it had something to do with the twin beds? “It’s the eyebrow thing.”

  “What eyebrow thing?”

  “You know how you can raise just one eyebrow?”

  He raised his right eyebrow.

  I started laughing again.

  “Okay, that’s never been funny before.”

  “No, it’s just that you raised the right one and Ramirez raised the left one. It was like looking at two book ends. Then you frowned in unison. It was hilarious.”

  Tom scowled. “It doesn’t seem funny to me.”

  “You weren’t standing over there with Hansen and me.”

  “Your pictures are gone.” He nodded toward the coffee table.

  “I noticed that right away. Why would anyone want my pictures?”

  “I don’t know,” Tom said. “But that’s not the part bothering me.”

  “What is?”

  “They should have taken our passports or credit cards, those they could sell. The fact that they didn’t worries me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it means they were looking for something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe it was kids looking for money and they took the photos out of spite,” I suggested.

  “That’s possible. But we didn’t have any money in here, so it’s hard to say if they would or wouldn’t have taken it,” his frown deepened. “I’m thinking that maybe we shouldn’t go on this cruise, Liza.”

  “No, I want to go.” I walked over to him. “This is all happening in Long Beach. Once we’re out of here, it will be over.”

  “I’m not so sure and I hope this isn’t an omen.” He shook his head. “With the way our luck is going - the ship’s probably going to be taken over by terrorists!”

  It took us quite a while to clean up both rooms. Tom did a lot of cussing, and I smiled, nodded, and did my best to ignore him. In the end, the only things missing were my photos and my small suitcase was crushed beyond saving.

  “I have an idea,” I told Tom as we were resting on the couch, our feet on the coffee table, and my head on his shoulder.

  He turned and stroked the side of my face. “Me, too.”

  “Not that.”

  His face drooped.

  “Later, okay?” I winked.

  His smile returned.

  “Let’s go out and find a twenty-four hour drugstore, so I can buy another small suitcase. There are certain things I don’t want to go with our big suitcases. According to the website,
they take them away from you at the port and you might not see them again until late.”

  “Good idea.” He nodded and stood. “Not as good as my idea though.”

  He reached out his hand and pulled me to my feet. I wrapped my arms around him. “I like your idea, too. It’s just that if we do yours first, nothing will be open to do mine.”

  “Practical, very practical, Liza.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  He leaned down and kissed me. It was slow and gentle. Warmth spread through my body just like it had the first time he’d kissed me. Damn, he was a great kisser! I leaned in and he slid his hands under my tank top and around to my back. He pulled me closer.

  Who cares about the stupid suitcase? I can put my stuff in the plastic bag the inn provided for laundry. Right?

  He stepped back.

  “Never mind,” I said. “I don’t need the suitcase.”

  He smiled, but then shook his head. “No, you’re right. We need it.”

  “Then why did you kiss me? You know it makes my insides go all warm and tingly.”

  He chuckled. “I just want to make sure we only make one stop. I know you. We’ll get to the store and you’ll want to wander around. Then you’ll see a restaurant and decide you really didn’t have enough dessert at Chili’s and you’ll want to stop and get some. It will be hours before we get back here and then it will be late. We’ll both be tired and I’ll fall asleep as soon as we lie down.”

  Sometimes I hate that the man knows me so well. “Of course, if I do wander around the store, I might pick up the latest Cosmopolitan. Then I’d be able to improve on your idea.”

  His eyes widened.

  Sometimes I even surprise myself.

  Chapter 9

  I did end up buying that magazine, and Tom bought me a cheesecake for dessert from the drugstore’s refrigerator section. When we got back to the hotel, we found a lovely surprise. Someone had pushed the two twin beds together and made them up as a king.

  There was a little note attached to the pillow. It said: Sorry for the mix-up with the rooms. Hope your vacation is smooth sailing from here on out. It was signed, Brenda and Ramon.

  “How nice,” I said when I picked up the card. “This will be our first vacation souvenir.”

  “Are you going to be picking up things during the entire trip?”

  “Yes, I think I’ll make a scrapbook about our vacation after we get home.”

  “Okay,” Tom said, but his tone didn’t sound very sincere.

  “You said I needed a hobby. It will keep me busy for awhile.”

  “That’s true.” He sighed. “Maybe I can get a copy of the search warrant and police reports on Betsy’s death, your purse snatching and our room being trashed for your scrapbook.”

  I grimaced.

  He held up the cheesecake.

  Both our smiles returned.

  “Let’s eat it in bed,” I suggested and took his free hand.

  He chuckled. “Best idea you’ve had all day.”

  I grabbed the magazine and we went into the bedroom. As I read the latest “love quiz” to Tom, we laughed, fed each other cheesecake, and even tried a few of their suggestions. It was a wonderful end to a very trying day.

  In the morning we went out for breakfast and drove down to the dock. I knew we weren’t supposed to board the boat until one, but since I registered for the cruise so late, I didn’t have my tickets. It made me a little nervous.

  We left the car in the parking structure by the dock. A porter looked up our name on a list and put the correct tags on our luggage. We would be in Room 5169, upper forward on the Upper Deck.

  “Where’s that on the ship?” Tom asked, as we walked toward the Queen Mary to check-in.

  “I have no idea,” I told him.

  “There better be maps posted all over the ship, because given your sense of direction, you’ll be lost all the time.”

  I could have argued, but he was right. If I happened onto a wrong street, even in my own city, I was lost.

  It was only ten o’clock so no one was waiting to check-in.

  Tom and I stepped up to the counter.

  “Good morning,” the cheery clerk said. She was dressed in a red, white, and blue uniform.

  “I know it’s early, but we’d like to check-in, if that’s possible,” I explained.

  “Of course,” she extended her hand. “Can I see your tickets?”

  “I booked the cruise online only two days ago, so they said my tickets would be here.”

  “Let me check.” The clerk went over, grabbed a box with five red packets, and brought it to her station.

  “I guess I’m not the only one who decided to go on this vacation only a few days ago.”

  She smiled. “No. In fact, one gentleman booked his cabin late yesterday afternoon.” She extended her hand again, “I need your passports and a credit card to attach to your Navigator card, please.”

  “What’s that?” Tom asked, his tone brisk.

  “It’s the way you pay for everything while you’re on the ship,” the woman said.

  “This is our first cruise,” I said, by way of explanation of our ignorance and Tom’s tone. His ex-wife, Pamela, had maxed out all his credit cards; when they were divorced, he got stuck paying half. He never let the balance on the card go over a few hundred dollars now, and always paid it off with his next paycheck.

  “Oh, that’s okay.” The clerk’s smile broadened. “Everything you buy on the ship is charged to your credit card, including shore excursions, spa treatments, and drinks.”

  I handed her my passport and credit card.

  Tom shook his head. “No, use mine.”

  I put my hand on his arm. “No, I get great rewards on this card. Every Christmas I get several gift cards I use for the teachers at school.”

  Tom frowned.

  “I’ll send you a bill for your stuff,” I promised.

  He nodded, then handed the woman his passport.

  It took more than just a few minutes, but eventually we were checked in.

  The clerk handed us our Navigator Cards. “Your table for dinner is listed on your card. I see you’ve requested a late sitting.”

  “How late?” Tom asked as she handed him his card.

  “I think they serve around eight o’clock.”

  “Eight o’clock!” He scowled.

  The clerk stepped back as I put my hand on his arm again. “My parents always liked the late seating, so that’s what I requested. If you want to change it, we can.”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s all right.” He looked back at the clerk. “Is there any place on the ship where I can get food around the real dinner time?”

  Her smile broadened again. “There are many places to get food. In fact, you can get food almost twenty-four hours a day on the ship.”

  Tom nodded, appeased.

  The clerk gave us a sheet titled Frequently Asked Questions. “This should help with any other questions you may have. Enjoy your cruise!”

  We thanked her and tucked our passports and Navigator cards safely together, just like she’d told us to.

  When we got out of the building, Tom said, “That Navigator card must get some people in a lot of trouble.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “You want a drink, you give them the card. Then you have another. It adds up quickly. Credit cards don’t feel like real money to people.”

  “I’ll keep my Diet Coke purchases to a minimum,” I told him.

  He laughed. “Sodas don’t get them into trouble. It’s the second, third, and fourth drinks that do.”

  “And there’s a casino on board.”

  Tom raised both eyebrows this time. “There is?”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “I bet people get their bill and have a heart attack.”

  I laughed, grabbed his arm, and we walked toward the front of a large round white building. The clerk at the check-in counter told us we had to go throug
h there before we got on the ship.

  Standing at the door were Detective Ramirez and Hansen. They walked up to us. Now what?

  I felt Tom’s body stiffen.

  “Good morning,” I said cheerfully, trying to break the tension.

  “Good morning,” Hansen said.

  Tom and Ramirez just nodded at each other.

  Hansen reached inside a paper bag he carried and brought out my purse.

  I took it and smiled. “Thanks so much. It isn’t very valuable, but I like this purse.”

  “Where’d you find it?” Tom asked.

  “We found the boat with the purse still in it,” Hansen said.

  “Check the purse,” Ramirez said. “Is anything missing?”

  I opened it. My makeup, notebook, and calendar were all there, but my cell phone was still missing. “It’s all here except my cell phone.”

  “She’s already called and had the service stopped,” Tom added.

  “Was it an expensive cell phone?” Ramirez asked.

  “No. I buy the cheapest one I can.” I shrugged. “I lose them very easily.”

  Ramirez shook his head.

  “What?” Tom asked.

  “Nobody steals a boat to get a purse, just to steal a cell phone.”

  “No, they don’t,” Tom agreed. “Did you get any prints from the boat?”

  “Nope, it was wiped clean.”

  “Someone went to a lot of trouble to get her purse.” Tom glanced from the two detectives to me and then back to Ramirez. “Is there someplace we can go and talk?”

  “Yes,” Ramirez said, then he and Hansen went over and talked to a cruise person standing in front of the door.

  I pulled on Tom’s arm and whispered, “What are you doing?”

  “Liza, no one goes to all that trouble to get an obvious knock-off purse unless they’re after something specific.”

  “But what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ramirez and Hansen came back. “We can use the room reserved for their Gold Members. It’s early, so it’s empty.”

  Tom nodded and we followed the two detectives into a nice lounge, set up with bottled waters, sodas and a few snacks. How do you get to be a Gold Member? I wondered.

  Ramirez and Hansen sat down at a table, and we joined them.

  Tom wrung his hands. This wasn’t a good sign. He only did this when he had to admit he was wrong about something.