Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries 02 - Cooks, Crooks and Cruises

by A. R. Winters

  It just didn’t make any sense.

  Unless… unless the captain had been involved in Hannah’s death?

  Maybe he was snooping in my room to see if he could find out if I had any clues. He no doubt knew my reputation from the last cruise. Adrienne James, social media manager and murder solver extraordinaire.

  I rubbed at my temples. He was another person to add to my list. How could I go about getting more information on him, though?

  I had an idea.

  It wasn’t a new one, but it’d worked in the past.

  First, I just needed a little nap. I closed my eyes and drifted off into a confused dreamland of captains, first officers, and crazy women all vying for my attention.

  Chapter 15

  T hat evening after dinner, I headed straight to the crew mess hall. The room functioned as a general hangout space for off-duty staff, especially in the evenings. It was filled with bench tables and affixed orange plastic seats. Various groups of staff and crew were scattered about the room, chatting and relaxing during some of their downtime.

  I wasted no time finding Cece and marching over to ask for a favor. “Hey, do you—”

  “Yep,” she said, without even looking up from the magazine she was staring at. “What are we doing this time?”

  “I didn’t even finish asking you!” I said with mild annoyance.

  Cece lowered the magazine and raised her eyebrows at me. “Yeah, but I know that look. You’re about to ask me a favor. So, what is it?”

  “Do you remember, on the last cruise, when we went to take some pictures for the social media stream? You know, some action shots of you working?”

  Cece smirked at me. “You mean when we broke into that cabin to snoop around? Yeah, I remember.”

  I grinned at her. “Fancy doing that again?”

  “I’m down. There’s nothing interesting going on tonight, anyway.” She tossed the magazine aside and stood up. “Let’s roll. Which lucky passenger’s cabin are we breaking into this time?”

  I looked around to make sure that no one was listening, but every other crew member seemed to be engaged in their own entertainment, playing cards, chatting, and one couple was even smooching in the corner.

  “The captain’s,” I said as quietly as I could while still being heard.

  Cece’s jaw dropped open.

  “You serious?”

  “Yes. The thing is… apparently the captain was in my cabin. He broke in there when neither Sam nor I were there. I don’t know what he was up to, but it seems really weird. I want to see if there’s anything interesting in his cabin.”

  “Turnabout is fair play, huh?” Cece was grinning and shaking her head. “I guess it seems fair enough. But what if we get caught?”

  “Then we’re dead, I guess.” I gave a shrug as if I didn’t care what happened. “But the captain is going to be at the Captain’s Club hosting another dinner most of the evening.”

  “So, right now, then?”

  “Yep.”

  I offered her a hand and pulled her up. “Let’s roll.”

  “How do I look?”

  Cece had put her work uniform back on, a maid’s outfit, including a pink pair of rubber gloves that went right up to her elbows. Unlike her usual morning outfit, however, she had on some bright red lipstick, and her cheeks were rosy with rouge. She’d also rolled up the top of her skirt to shrink it and make it hang well above her knees.

  “That outfit really works for you.”

  “I know. That’s what my last boyfriend said. He used to get me to—”

  “Another time. Come on.”

  The captain’s cabin was situated in the officer’s (and distinguished guests) section of the ship, which was always quiet. At this time of the evening, when everyone was at dinner, it was exceptionally so.

  Cece’s housekeeping keycard opened up pretty much every door on the ship. She claimed that she was the only one who had such access; she had hinted that there was some mysterious reason for that in the past, though she had never told me exactly why her card alone gave universal access to the ship.

  After checking to make sure no one else was around, she unlocked the door and we quickly slipped inside. As quickly as you can when you have a heavily laden cleaning cart to push, anyway.

  It was dark inside, so I flipped the switch to turn on the lights.

  Cece pushed her cart into the middle of the room, and picked up a cleaning rag with one hand, so that if anyone entered, we could at least pretend that we were there on semi-legitimate business.

  “Look like you’re working hard!” I said, holding up my phone and starting to snap pictures of her. I wanted to get my cover story ready before we began the search.

  We took a few photos where Cece really did seem to be working hard, but after about thirty seconds, once we got our cover story set, Cece leaned against the cart and gave me a pouty look. Then she turned, her hand on her hip, holding up her rag with her eyebrows raised and a naughty-girl look. Finally, she dropped it onto the floor and made a big show of bending over to pick it up.

  “Make sure I look hot. You’re going to post these, right? Maybe Ryan will see them.”

  “Sure. I’ll probably fade out the background though so they can’t see where we took them.”

  She nodded. “Good thinking.”

  I had a thought.

  “I should show these to Meredith.”

  Cece stood up straight again. “What do you mean?”

  “She thinks…” I was almost too embarrassed to tell her. “She thinks we’re an item.”

  “No way!”

  Cece was beaming with pleasure, relishing the thought that Meredith had taken me and her for a couple.

  “Yes way.”

  Cece put her hands on her hips, and looked me up and down. “Didn’t you tell her I’m out of your league?”

  I snorted. That’s exactly what I’d thought she’d say.

  “No. It’s the only reason she’s started being nice to me. That’s why she offered me the job—now she thinks I’m no threat to Vince.”

  “You’re not a threat to Vince, are you?”

  I shook my head. “No way. He’s way too old.”

  “And Hot Stuff is much hotter anyway.”

  I grinned and nodded. “That’s right. But I think if I said that to Meredith, she’d cut my throat.”

  I began to walk across the room. “Come on, let’s get started. Let’s see if we can find anything.”

  The captain’s cabin was large, though not as large as some of the VIP suites I had seen.

  He had a roomy living and dining area, with a table big enough for twelve people to sit around on old-fashioned wooden high-backed chairs, an office with what looked to be an antique wooden desk as well as various nautical accouterments, and a large double bedroom with attached en suite bathroom. There was also another bathroom leading off the living area, as well as a small kitchen.

  On the large desk in his office, I found a black moleskin notebook.

  Tentatively, I opened it.

  If it was the Captain’s private journal, I intended to close it right away. Well, right after checking that there was no murder confession for that day’s entry.

  But it was not a private journal. Instead, it contained a series of pages headed with people’s names, with notes about each person written underneath.

  The names in the book seemed to be senior members of the ship’s staff and crew, most of whom were unfamiliar to me, since I didn’t spend much time with the bigwigs.

  I stopped at one page when I saw a name that I did recognize.

  Ethan Lee (First Officer).

  - Ex-Navy Seal

  - Reliable

  - Honest

  The word honest had been underlined three times for emphasis. I wasn’t sure what that meant. Was it a good thing? Or did the captain underline it because it was a problem for him? I flicked through the rest of the notebook, looking for familiar names.

  Neither I,
Hannah, nor Olivia were in there. It didn’t seem to contain much of use to me. I guessed the captain was just using it as a way to remember who everyone was on his new ship.

  Next to the notebook was a brown manila folder. I opened it up, and inside was a two-page typed report. The author? Ryan Wilson, the senior doctor aboard the ship, and the guy Cece was into.

  I read through it all. It said that he estimated Hannah had died early that morning. So, as we had thought, she hadn’t been there all night. It also said that the only injury was the one that we had all seen: her skull fracture. There were no other visible signs of injury on her person.

  The doctor’s report went on to say that, in his professional opinion, it was unlikely that a person of her age would have a fall bad enough to cause such a severe injury, though he could not rule out the possibility. It stated that in his estimation she was either pushed hard or bludgeoned with a blunt instrument. I shuddered when I read that part.

  I used my phone to snap pictures of the two-page report, so that I could review it again later when I had more time.

  For good measure, I snapped a few pages from the moleskin notebook as well. I wanted the one of Ethan Lee at least. Honest. It boded well.

  “Adrienne, Adrienne,” Cece hissed from the office door.

  She beckoned me to hurry, so I placed the folder and notebook back exactly where I found them and trotted over to her.

  “Someone’s out there.”

  “Quick, make it look like you’re working.”

  Cece picked up a bottle of cleaning spray and her rag, and tiptoed over to the cabin door. I followed her, realizing that she wanted to listen outside.

  “It sounds like arguing,” said Cece softly in my ear.

  She was right; it did. We could hear raised voices approaching, loud enough that they carried through the door.

  “Those are women’s voices.”

  I nodded back. She was right again. It sounded like two women arguing. That hopefully meant that the captain wasn’t returning. Unless he was bringing two women back with him.

  “…I found your message on her phone!” I tilted my head, and I knew exactly who that voice belonged to. “…‘Leave him alone or else.’ Then you showed her what the ‘or else’ was, didn’t you!? Didn’t you!”

  It was Beverly!

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  Cece and I looked at each other. We both recognized the voice at once.

  The second speaker was Meredith.

  “Why would I want to harm her? She was a nobody. She’s no threat to me. You’re out of your mind.”

  “I’m out of my mind!? You should take a look in the mirror sometime, you overdressed, clown-makeup-faced—”

  “Please!” interrupted a loud male voice.

  For a moment, I panicked.

  Was that the captain, separating the two arguing?

  Cece pushed her eye up against the door, peering out the small eye-hole to see what she could see.

  “It’s Vince,” she whispered so softly I could barely hear.

  From the sound of it, the three of them were almost directly outside the captain’s cabin now. I figured they were on the way to the distinguished guest suite, which was further down this same corridor, where Vince and Meredith were staying. Beverly must’ve followed Meredith.

  If Cece’s whisper had been quiet, her sneeze certainly wasn’t.

  The sudden outburst from her came like a freight train blowing its air horn, and the surprise of it caused her to smack her hands on the door of the cabin at the same time.

  She turned around, startled, her mouth opened in an O of shock and apology.

  Now she’s done it!

  “Come on!” said Vince urgently from the other side of the door, and we heard two sets of footsteps hurrying away.

  “I’m watching you!” Beverly called after them.

  Then we heard her footsteps heading away too.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Cece, wringing her hands together.

  I couldn’t have agreed faster if I’d tried.

  That was enough snooping for one evening.

  Chapter 16

  T he next morning, I wanted to find out what had really been going on the night before.

  Why had Beverly been chasing down Meredith to yell at her?

  If she really thought she was a killer, wouldn’t that be rather dangerous?

  Though if she truly believed Meredith had murdered her friend, maybe she wouldn’t care about the danger.

  Beverly had been quite open with me on the day of the cooking demonstration, when she’d warned me to stay away from Meredith, so I thought she might be again today. I decided to visit her in her office before she started doing her rounds for the day.

  I intended to arrive on the pretense of asking her opinion about a piece I was going to put together. Should I focus my blog post on mocktails, or real alcoholic cocktails?

  I’d start with that, and hopefully we would naturally fall into conversation about Meredith again. If not, I could always prod her.

  When I got to her office, I pressed the buzzer by the door and waited patiently. There was no answer.

  I buzzed again, but still, there was no response.

  On the door under a clear plastic holder was a printout of Beverly’s schedule, posted so that anyone dropping by would know where she was at any given time. At this time, from nine to ten most days, she was supposed to be in her office.

  I rang again for the third time.

  When there was still no response, I pulled out my phone, and thought about sending her a message. But I hesitated.

  I didn’t really want to do that. The pretense I was going to see her under could be answered just as easily with a message. I needed to see her in person to get her talking.

  “Hello? Can I help you?”

  A young man was approaching me, and I knew he was another one of the customer liaison members of staff, like Sam. Unlike Sam, this guy wasn’t assigned to specifically help with Vince and Meredith, and was more of a general liaison.

  “I was looking for Beverly, but I don’t think she’s here, is she?”

  The young guy furrowed his brow and peered at the schedule on the door. “It says she’s here.”

  He rang the buzzer for himself and gave me a friendly smile.

  I wanted to punch him.

  Did he think I couldn’t read a schedule or press a buzzer? What did he think I’d been doing outside the door? Trying to communicate with her telepathically?

  “I don’t think she’s here,” he said helpfully when, once again, nothing happened.

  “That’s what I said.” My tone was cold enough to freeze blood.

  “Right, sorry,” he said turning and scurrying away chastened.

  “Idiot,” I muttered under my breath. It was probably a little unfair, but I was annoyed that Beverly wasn’t there and he was a pretty convenient scapegoat. “Ah, what the hell.”

  I pushed the door open to see if she was inside, ignoring the buzzer altogether.

  I know I had certainly done that back home when I didn’t feel like answering the door to a religious proselytizer or salesman. Beverly had been feeling down recently, for obvious reasons, so maybe she was avoiding visitors.

  I pushed the door fully open, and stepped inside. Beverly was sitting at her desk, but her head was down on top of her arms, a half-eaten breakfast pastry beside her.

  “Beverly?” I said loudly.

  Getting no response, I tried again, “Beverly!”

  She didn’t move at all.

  She must’ve been in a deep sleep, was my first thought, but this was immediately followed by the much more urgent one. What if she isn’t asleep?

  I hurried over to the desk, leaned over, and shook her shoulder. “Beverly, Beverly!”

  There was no answer.

  I put one hand under her mouth, and could feel her breath slowly going in and out. At least she wasn’t dead. Goodness, what has my life come
to where I’m thinking at least she isn’t dead, when I find someone passed out at the desk?

  My eyes fell back on the pastry beside her.

  I peered at it, trying to see if there was anything strange about it. It looked just like a normal pastry. But could it have been poisoned? Maybe.

  I pressed two fingers against Beverly’s neck, and I could feel her pulse, beating firmly and steadily. There was something wrong with her, but at least she hadn’t died. Yet.

  I picked up the phone on her desk, and after consulting the number guide pasted next to it, I called the sickbay.

  “Hi, I need to speak to Dr. Ryan Wilson immediately.”

  The woman who answered the phone started to ask some question about what it was concerning, but I cut her off.

  “I need to speak to him right now. The cruise director needs urgent medical assistance.”

  She put me on hold. A few seconds later, I heard the warm, calm voice of Dr. Wilson.

  “Hello? What seems to be the problem?”

  I outlined the problem as briefly as I could.

  “I’ll be there in two minutes. Make sure her airway is clear, but otherwise try not to move her. I’ll be there in a minute. It’s going to be okay.”

  After hanging up, I looked at Beverly again. She looked for all the world like she was just fast asleep.

  “Beverly!” I tried again.

  She didn’t stir.

  Suddenly, something came back to me.

  The night before, when we had been in the captain’s cabin, Beverly had told Meredith that she had seen Hannah’s phone.

  I quickly scanned the office, seeing if I could find it. If Meredith really had sent death threats, then I needed to tell Ethan Lee. I was surprised Beverly hadn’t already.

  I couldn’t find any sign of Hannah’s phone on top of the desk, and after quickly glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one had quietly entered behind me, I went through Beverly’s handbag, which was sitting beside the ominous-looking pastry. No phone there either.