Terror at Sea: Three mysteries aboard a cruise ship

by Debby Mayne

  “And you think Bob would’ve let Morley into the safe.”

  “Why not? He’s the SVP of the ship.”

  “Do you trust him?

  “I don’t trust anybody on board this ship.” He rose. “You should probably make sure Natasha packs only what is hers. I’ll wait outside your cabin door.”

  They made their way in silence back to her room where Natasha threw things helter-skelter into her suitcase. She turned to glare when Molly entered, then tossed the manila envelope at her. “Here are your stinking pictures!”

  “Where did you get them, Natasha?” Molly caught them in her right hand.

  “From that other photographer.”

  Easy enough to clarify. Molly tossed the envelope on her bunk. She intended to confront Daniella as soon as possible.

  “Now where is my money?”

  “I have no idea, Natasha. I have nothing of yours, nor did I take anything from your suitcase.” There.

  “You lie. To me, to the security.” Natasha slammed her suitcase closed and towered over Molly. “I will find out the truth and make you pay.” She grabbed the case’s handle and stomped to the door. “Mark my words, little girl.”

  Molly swallowed back the lump in her throat. The next five days at sea ought to be a lot of fun.

  26

  M olly stared at her dinner and pouted. What was she supposed to do now with five days at sea and no job? She glanced at the notice in the center of the table. Friday’s formal night boasted a dance contest. Wonderful. She wasn’t in the mood to dance.

  Natasha glared at her from the buffet, Morrison had yet to show his face, and there’d been no sign of Cohn since his mad dash yesterday. Solving Antonio’s death was going nowhere. Right along with Molly’s mood. Ugh! She shoved her plate aside.

  “This will be so boring.” She frowned at Lance. How could he eat when everything was falling down around their feet? “Now, what do we do?”

  He shoveled in a forkful of potatoes, chewed, and swallowed. “Nothing. Enjoy the cruise.”

  “That’s it?” She slammed back in her seat, thrusting her legs in front of her.

  He sighed and set his fork beside his plate. “What do you want to do?”

  “Solve this thing and clear my name.” She crossed her arms. “Before someone accuses me of something worse. Like murder.”

  “Don’t exaggerate.” He folded a strip of bacon in his mouth.

  “I’m not. I’m scared.” Oh, these ridiculous tears. She forced them away so she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

  “Last night during my Bible reading,” Lance wiped his mouth with his napkin, “I came across a Bible verse that’s a perfect fix for you right now. ‘When you lie down among the sheep, you are like the wings of a dove covered with silver, and the end of its wings with shining gold. -Psalm 68:13’. God is in control, Molly. His shroud of protection is over you.”

  “But sheep are peaceful animals. Unlike murderers and thieves.”

  “I’m not going to do anything without His guidance.” Lance bent over his food. “I advise you to do the same.”

  “Is all police work like this? Sitting and waiting?” Molly cut into her steak and speared a bite.

  “Pretty much. At least a lot of the time. You keep your eyes and ears open and react when the situation warrants.”

  “Ridiculous.” She waved her fork at him. “You just don’t want to put me in a dangerous situation.”

  “Yep.”

  “So, you’ll sit back and let things continue and let someone else solve this.”

  “You hit the nail on the head.”

  “Then I’ll investigate on my own.”

  She flinched at the clatter of his fork as he dropped it onto his plate. “Do that and I will advise Morley to lock you under guard and key.”

  “I dare you.” She leaned across the table and speared him with the sternest look she could muster, straightening when another couple joined them at the table. By the look on Lance’s face, the conversation was far from over.

  He tossed his napkin on the table and rose. “Care for a stroll, my dear?”

  “Certainly, darling.”

  In silence they rode the elevator to the upper deck. The stars seemed brighter, less dwarfed by the ship’s lights. Completely a waste of a romantic evening.

  Lance pulled her into a dark corner and pinned her against the wall. “You will listen to me on this, Molly, or so help me—”

  She lifted her chin. “What? Beat me? Lock me up?” Her accusation was unfair and she knew it, but she’d had enough of his bossiness.

  “You know me better than that.” He released her and gripped his hair, making it stand on end.

  She smiled at the little boy image.

  “You’re driving me nuts!” He sagged against the wall. “Look, Molly. You came from an abusive relationship. I sympathize, really. But don’t go to the extreme in your healing process.”

  “What do you mean?” Her smile faded faster than a shooting star.

  “Don’t go from being a doormat to being a witch.”

  Excuse me? Is that what he thought of her? She needed to change the path of things, and fast.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice shook. “Do you want to sit and watch the stars?”

  “Anything but this.” He followed her to two empty deck chairs.

  Once they sat, Molly reached for his hand and rubbed the calluses with the tips of her fingers. A working man’s hands. Vince’s had been smooth. They were nothing alike. She needed to acknowledge the fact and enjoy the man beside her. Maybe he was a gift from God and she refused to accept it without a fight.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his. His eyes widened for a second, then his hand tangled in her hair and he deepened the kiss. All worry fled at the feel of his lips. At that moment, a bullet could ram into her spine and she’d die a happy woman.

  *

  Lance couldn’t have been more surprised if Molly had told him she’d killed Antonio and thrown Hilga overboard. But, surprise quickly turned to pleasure and the air chilled when she pulled away.

  “That was nice.” Her whisper caressed his ear with the softness of a feather. He reached for her again and frowned when she straightened in her chair.

  “Come back here.”

  She shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t be wise.”

  Probably not, considering few people strolled the deck, the moon was a sliver in the inky sky, and heat infused Lance’s body. He took a deep breath to steady his heart.

  Lord, I’ve never been a womanizer, you know that. But I will definitely need your help to toe the line with Molly. The woman stirs my blood like no one else.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” She giggled.

  “Glad you acted on it.” Lance grinned and folded his arms behind his head.

  “Me too.” Heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks. She couldn’t remember ever being so daring.

  “You can do it again, if you want.”

  “You’re a flirt, did you know that?”

  “Hey, you kissed me.” Strands of music drifted from somewhere below them. “Do you want to sign up for the dance competition?”

  “We’d have to practice.”

  He laughed. “We’ve got three nights before the contest. It’ll be fun, even if we don’t win.”

  “They’ll do more than Salsa.” She turned to look at him.

  “I can Foxtrot, Salsa, Rhumba, and Swing. Whatever you can throw at me. My dad hated the stuff so I was left to cut a rug with my mom.” It was one of his favorite memories. She’d put on a favorite oldie and grab his hand. He missed them.

  “Okay, let’s do it!” She leaped to her feet. “That’s a waltz they’re playing. We can start practicing now.”

  He rose and took her in his arms, loving the way her head tucked into his shoulder. Like they’d been made to fit together. It’d be hard to hold her at arm’s length in order to effectivel
y do the steps, but twirl her he did. She was light on her feet, as if they didn’t touch the wood beneath them. After the waltz, he pulled her into a Foxtrot and headed around the perimeter of the deck.

  “Look.” Molly stopped and pointed to a falling star. “Make a wish.”

  He wished the night would never end and that violence and evil would stay away, and that he could hold Molly in his arms forever.

  “What did you wish for?” Her eyes glistened as she peered up at him.

  “Nope. Wouldn’t come true if I told you.” He stared down into her upturned face and ached to kiss her again.

  “Silly superstition.” She leaned into him.

  The breeze carried a whiff of the flower fragrance Lance loved. The scent that screamed Molly Nicholson. They moved to the railing and stared at the waves churned into motion by the ship.

  “There isn’t anything more beautiful than the ocean at night, is there?” Molly leaned her back against Lance. He braced his arms on each side of her, gripping the rail, for balance as much as to keep his hands occupied and out of trouble.

  “I can think of one thing.” He lowered his head to nuzzle her neck.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, Mr. Spencer. That’s too much—”

  A shot rang out and a cry for help drew their attention downward. Agent Cohn hung from the second deck, his legs flailing the air above the dark sea.

  “Hold on!” Lance cast around for a life preserver.

  “He’s going to fall. There’s no way we’ll make it in time. He’s two decks below us!” Molly grabbed his arm. “Your cell phone! Call the captain.”

  He pulled it from his pocket as Molly whirled back to peer over the edge. Her shoulder knocked his hand. The phone flew over the edge, despite Lance’s lunge for it.

  Cohn glanced up, reached an arm in their direction, and disappeared.

  27

  L ance’s phone traveled the path of Agent Cohn. The silver rectangle sparkled in the ship’s lights before sinking into fathomlessness. Molly’s legs gave out beneath her. She stared in disbelief. How could this happen?

  Lance groaned, slapped the top rail, and then dashed inside. He poked his head out the door. “Come on!”

  After pushing to her feet, Molly whirled, then followed and struggled to keep up with his long-legged sprint. Lance skidded to a halt next to a courtesy phone, punched in directory, then barked out directions to the Lido deck about a man overboard.

  Molly fought back tears. She’d heard what sounded like a gunshot. No way could she convince herself Cohn fell over on accident. Someone helped.

  Lance hung up the phone. He grabbed her hand, a gesture quickly becoming way too commonplace for them, and dragged her after him. They made a beeline to where Cohn disappeared.

  “I can’t see him.” Lance leaned so far over the railing Molly thought he’d fall. When someone was in danger, there was no sign of his phobia. Under different circumstances, the thought would’ve made her smile.

  The water churned beneath them with waves of cream and ink. “I don’t either.”

  Feet pounded behind them, and Molly spun as Jack Morley and several other security personnel stampeded toward them. Morley’s expression was as dark as the sea.

  “Miss Nicholson again. Misfortune seems to follow you.”

  “Not by choice.” She crossed her arms.

  Lance stepped forward. “Molly isn’t the issue here. From the top deck, we saw a passenger go overboard. It’s the FBI agent that is supposedly not listed as a passenger.”

  Morley looked taken aback. “I wasn’t aware we had the FBI onboard.”

  “He was investigating a passenger undercover.” Lance flung his arms wide. “And he’s gone overboard! It doesn’t matter who he is! Why are we standing around debating this?”

  Morley motioned for his men to move. “Follow procedure.”

  Like that helped Hilga. Molly slid down the closest wall and squatted on the deck, putting her head in her hands. Without the FBI onboard, she and Lance would be on their own.

  “We can’t do anything here.” Lance held out a hand to pull her to her feet. “I need to contact my friend in the bureau. Let him know about Cohn.”

  Once in the internet room, Lance sent an email to his contact then leaned back in his chair. A frown marred his brow. He sighed and rubbed his temples. “I need some sleep.”

  “I can lock myself in my cabin.” Molly glanced at her watch. “It’s only ten o’clock. We could both use a good night’s rest.” She doubted she’d sleep, but the idea definitely had merit.

  “Waiting for a response to my email seems more responsible.”

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You won’t be good for either one of us if you collapse from exhaustion.”

  “You’re right.” He cupped her hand. “An answer will still be there in the morning.”

  Like a couple well past their golden years, they made their way to Molly’s room. Lance placed a tender kiss on her lips, took the pass card from her hand, and opened the door. After a quick run through the room, he deemed it safe for her to enter.

  “Goodnight, Molly. Keep your cell phone close.”

  “I will.” After he disappeared around the corner, she closed the door and leaned against it. They’d shared a kiss that would set the ship on fire, then another body went overboard. Her life resembled a roller-coaster. All she lacked was the upside-down loop. She had no doubt it would come.

  Her steps dragged as she went into the bathroom and shed her clothes. Sitting on the lid of the toilet, she waited for the shower to adjust to a comfortable temperature. The tile behind her cooled her heated back and kept her from falling asleep where she sat.

  Lord, I’m tired. Not just physically, but mentally too. Please help us out of this mess before more people die. I’m sorry I thought Lance and I would be alone with Cohn gone. You’d never forsake us. Thank You.

  She tested the water, deemed it hot enough to wash away the day’s stress, then stepped beneath the shower’s cleansing flow. The temptation to withdraw the money from the purser’s safe slammed into her. If she handed the money back to Morrison, maybe it would all stop. And maybe he’d shoot her on the spot, taking out a witness.

  Her next breath caught in her throat. Hyperventilation threatened, and Molly slid to the floor of the stall. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t strong enough for this. Why did she entertain the idea she was? She should’ve fled in Maui and got the next plane back to the States where she could’ve disappeared in the millions of faces on the mainland.

  Staying here trying to solve the case would only get her and Lance killed. The thought stole her next breath, catching on the giant sobs that ripped through her.

  Buck up, Molly. She forced herself to her feet. Whether she wanted it or not, danger had thrust itself into her life. Crying wouldn’t make it go away. She finished her shower, donned her nightclothes, and climbed beneath the cool sheet on her bed. Reaching for her phone, she dialed Lance’s room number.

  *

  As tired as he was, Lance headed back to the deck to see how the search for Cohn went. Morley met him halfway.

  “Nothing, detective. Not a scrap of fabric, a shoe, nothing.” Morley rubbed his face. “This has been the cruise to beat all, and somehow, Miss Nicholson is in the middle of it. If you know why, I’d like in on the information.”

  Lance took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Cohn was investigating the passenger Robert Morrison—”

  “I know that man. Overextended his credit card. Had to transfer money.”

  Lance nodded. “He was being investigated for embezzling from the company he worked for. Molly and I found two duffel bags of cash stashed in the ceiling of her cabin. We gave the money to the purser to put in his safe. Kind of coincidental that Morrison would be short of money, yet we find a bundle hidden away.”

  “Does the purser know there’s money in the bags?”

  “I didn’t tell him. Just asked him to lock them up. He might’ve looked.�
��

  Morley shook his head. “Knowing you’re a police officer, I don’t think Dickson would have peeked. No matter how tempted he was.”

  “I hope not. If he did, there could be a target on his back as well.”

  “I need to call the FBI and have them meet us in Vancouver. Nobody’s going anywhere for a few days.” Morley marched away, leaving Lance to watch as security personnel re-boarded the ship. Minus Cohn.

  He tried rolling the tension from his shoulders as he headed to his room. At almost midnight, he’d be lucky to get six hours sleep. Molly was right. He’d be no good to anyone without rest.

  Upon entering his cabin, he stopped short. His clothes and belongings were strewn from the closet and dresser. A peek into the bathroom showed his toiletries tossed in the toilet. Rage welled in him so intense he buried his fingernails into the palms of his hands. Thank the Lord he’d had his weapon with him.

  After checking to see whether anything was missing, he cleared the bed and plopped onto the bare mattress. As a cop, he’d seen a lot of vandalism, but never experienced it for himself. Since the money had been hidden in Molly’s room, it was clear the rifling of his served as a warning.

  Stupid crooks. To an officer of the law, they’d only issued an invitation for him to continue.

  Despite the lure of sleep, he dug his cell phone from his pocket and dialed security. “Morley, please.” He was glad he’d bought a pay-as-you-go phone that morning.

  “This is Morley.”

  “Officer Spencer, here. Someone ransacked my room.” Lance laid an arm across his face to cover his eyes. No way was he getting up to turn off the light.

  “So, it’s a crew member. Or at least someone who knows a crew member willing to let them into a passenger’s cabin.”

  “It would seem so.” Lying horizontal was almost the best thing he’d felt all day. Outside of Molly’s kiss.

  “Do you want me to send someone?”

  “No. I’m exhausted. Just file the report and have someone tape off the room. They can investigate in the morning.” He flipped the phone closed and let it fall beside him. Shifting his weight, he pulled his weapon from his waistband and left it in easy reach of his right hand.