by Diane Rapp
“Don’t!” she snapped, knocking his hand away. “Touch me again and I’ll rip your heart out!”
Conversations hushed.
Kayla blushed as curious stares focused on her. She backed away from Patrick and controlled her tone of voice. “A prior relationship doesn’t entitle you to take liberties!”
Patrick arched his right eyebrow, playing her emotions like a musical instrument.
Kayla relived the impotent rage she first experienced when she caught Patrick sneaking out of a passenger cabin. He waved a check and claimed to be collecting for charity. She couldn’t think of a retort at that time, but now Kayla narrowed her eyes and said, “If you’re soliciting for charity, I’m fresh out of checks.”
His eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched into a frown. Abruptly he turned away to scan the room for fresh victims. “Now there is someone worthy of my time,” he said, moving toward an attractive woman in her late forties. The woman wore an understated designer suit with a delicate silk scarf and diamond stickpin.
Kayla cast the woman as a mature Maureen O’Hara, hoping for a demonstration of fiery Irish temper in response to Patrick’s seductive attitude. Kayla turned in time to observe her own raging emotions mirrored in Bryanne’s dark brown eyes. The girl quickly retreated behind an artificial smile but Kayla recognized the symptoms. How many unsuspecting women had Patrick hurt?
Shannon asked, “Happy reunion?”
Kayla cringed. “It pains me to think I was once captivated by such superficial charm.”
“Don’t worry, honey. Your day of retribution is swiftly approaching.” Shannon grinned. “Patrick just took the bait.”
“Bait?”
“I’ll explain later in private.” Shannon said and greeted new guests.
Although the scene with Patrick dampened Kayla’s enthusiasm, the party basically followed Kayla’s mental script. The captain pretended to remember her, introduced her as a successful travel writer, and encouraged passengers to purchase books at the upcoming autograph session. Kayla mentally totaled the profits from potential book sales.
After the crowd dissipated Kayla and Shannon headed to Angelo’s Pizza Parlor for a late dinner. Busy at almost any hour, Angelo’s décor resembled a quaint Italian bistro with checkered red and white tablecloths, candles dripping down fat wine jugs, and the enticing scent of garlic drifting from the kitchen.
“Guess who was at the party tonight!” Shannon plopped onto a molded plastic chair.
“Who?” Kayla asked, remembering the Maureen O’Hara character at the party.
Shannon giggled, her deep blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “Mrs. Emily H. Schultz, Chairman of the Board since her husband died last year!”
“So?”
“She’s the most important part of ‘the great mutiny,’ our major supporter, so to speak.”
“Back up, Shannon. What’s ‘the great mutiny’?”
Shannon stabbed a tomato and dipped it into extra dressing. “We’ve devised a legal way to get a woman promoted to Chief Purser and rid ourselves of the ‘rat pack.’ A brilliant plan we call ‘the great mutiny,’ though it wouldn’t have made much difference without Mrs. Schultz.”
“Details,” Kayla demanded. A waiter delivered steaming pizza. Shannon slid a large piece onto her plate, licking sauce from long tapered fingers.
“Well, Emily Schultz recently inherited controlling interest of Constellation Cruise Lines. We didn’t have a chance in hell of getting equal treatment for women when Wilheim Schultz was president. Now everything’s different. Emily’s an American, who owned her own company. She’s savvy, forced Willy to sign a ‘prenup’ before they married, and she got control over the company when he died.”
“How’d you find all this out?” Kayla bit into a slice of bubbling hot pizza, deftly capturing a stray string of cheese with her finger before it landed on her silk blouse.
Shannon grinned. “Made friends with Emily’s secretary on a cruise, and we’ve been writing ever since. Emily heard about your blow-up at headquarters and she wants to know more. We’ve been trying to get her to come on a shakedown cruise, and she’s finally here, traveling incognito. Emily Schultz is the good-looking woman Patrick was hitting on all evening.”
“Won’t he mess up your plans?” Kayla asked. “Patrick can be so charming and persuasive, especially to rich widows.”
Shannon shook her head. “Emily knows all about Patrick’s swindles, so she’s giving him a chance to do his worst. She doesn’t know the full extent of our mutiny plans. We’ve arranged for all four members of the rat pack to be exposed next week.”
The “rat pack” was a group of four corrupt Chief Pursers who managed to avoid company exposure through mutual favors and subterfuge. Cruise ship protocol, inherited from the military and merchant marines, included traditions that excluded qualified women from filling high-rank posts. Protocol also prevented real crew mutinies, no matter how bad the ranking officers. Kayla felt astounded that Shannon could speak so glibly about a mutiny.
Shannon used her fingers to count off the goals of the mutiny. “Patrick’s romantic fund-raising ventures will be exposed; Jefferson Chadwick will be arrested for drug running; Enrico Segundia will become a family embarrassment; and an audit will expose the embezzlements of Parker Thomas.” Shannon finished her first piece of pizza and dug into a second. “It’s a beautiful plan, involving key members of each man’s crew.”
“How can you work with the crew on other ships?” Kayla imagined her figure expanding with each bite of pizza.
“Last year the company arranged to dock two ships at each port on any given day, making it easier for CCL to rotate crew assignments. We developed inter-crew friendships. You didn’t have the group support of a union so we corrected the situation.”
“You started a union?”
“Better!” Shannon chuckled. “We formed an underground network of men and women willing to cooperate in one major effort. With four major vacancies Mrs. Schultz will surely promote qualified women. She won’t let an unfair system continue.”
Kayla rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. I drank too much champagne to understand your scheme.”
Shannon’s chair creaked as she leaned back. “You don’t have to understand it, just sit back and enjoy the show.”
“I’ll be happy to watch but I hope you won’t be disappointed.” Kayla felt a surge of guilt. “I’ve got to confess. The real reason I quit…it was Patrick…the emotional stress of our breakup motivated me, not a failed career. Don’t start this for the wrong reasons, Shannon. Please reconsider.”
Shannon laughed. “Don’t sweat it, honey. Patrick hurt you but you still stood up to the brass, made a dent in the system. Those good old boys acted like asses and you exposed the truth for everyone to see. You deserved that promotion but they passed you over because you’re a woman.”
“I know! Their policy was wrong, but resigning was my way of running away from a failed relationship. In the end it was a good move, forced me to write, but—”
“Don’t worry your little head. This will all work out and I’ll still have my job. I don’t have your talent for writing, and I enjoy working for CCL. We all feel it’s time we got the job titles and pay suitable for the work we do. I’m determined to become Chief Purser no matter what it takes!” She scooted her chair back from the table. “I’d better get going—got to finish my paperwork. Get some sleep and I’ll let you know when the mutiny begins.” Shannon hugged Kayla then breezed out.
Kayla attended the cabaret and watched the dancers until overwhelmed by fatigue, but she found sleep elusive. She remembered her own attempt at mutiny. After six years she’d been passed over twice for promotion and scheduled a meeting at corporate headquarters on her own time and money. After she was dismissed by the board, a secretary privately explained that unofficial corporate policy prevented women from holding senior rank on ships. American Equal Opportunity officials couldn’t help because an offshore corporation
was exempt from U.S. law. She exhausted all options and felt grateful for an excuse to resign.
To get to sleep Kayla ran the events of the day through her mind like a movie newsreel. Scenes and commentary flitted through her head. Famous author boards the Aurora and is entertained in grand style by her fans . . . Old flame bites the dust (it was her movie script after all)…Intrigue and adventure await the author as a dangerous mutiny plot moves ahead…More news in following reports. What kind of trouble was Shannon brewing? Why was she so determined to become a Chief Purser? Kayla had been sure her friend would want to return home to her family by now.
Chapter 2 ~ Monday – St. Thomas
Shannon was already at work when Kayla dragged herself from bed at 8:00 a.m. The ship was docked at Havensight in the St. Thomas harbor, and Kayla realized she must skip breakfast and a shower to arrive on time for her scheduled tour. It was important to update the information in her book. Hurricanes and business changes played havoc with accuracy—a guidebook might be inaccurate before it hit the presses—therefore, this trip was a chance to update information without paying for flights and hotels.
Kayla dashed down the gangplank and joined the tour dockside. Apologizing profusely she slung a canvas tote over her shoulder and searched the pockets for her sunglasses—to no avail. She sighed heavily, squinting under the intense tropical sun, and followed the group into an open-air mall.
The mall looked like something out of a California construction handbook with rows of stucco buildings, red-tiled roofs, and billboard signs. T-shirt shops and jewelry stores teemed with fervent shoppers, eager to get the best duty-free merchandise at the lowest prices.
Kayla wiped sweat from her brow and enthusiastically entered an air-conditioned store filled with nautical apparel, fish sculptures, and submarine souvenirs. This store was the meeting place for submarine excursions. Tourists safely visited ocean depths aboard a real submarine, diving in air-conditioned comfort. Kayla felt eager to repeat an experience she hadn’t enjoyed for four years.
After a short surface ride in a open-air launch, impatient passengers watched as the submarine surfaced through an eruption of bubbles. Water streamed down the sides of the gunmetal gray boat, which bobbed playfully on the surface. The hatch hissed open and smiling passengers disembarked, thanking the crew, while Kayla’s group waited to board.
Descending a metal ladder, they marched obediently down the aisle and sat on contoured benches bolted to the floor. The submarine submerged. Bubbles floated like champagne filling the large viewing windows in front of each bench. The captain sat before an insubstantial-looking glass bubble at the front of the boat and spoke to the passengers over a loud speaker. He described the coral formations and identified fish as the submarine moved silently through crystal-clear water.
Memories inundated Kayla. Patrick holding her hand, protecting her from falling as she climbed down the wet ladder, his warm body pressed against hers as they shared a window. He behaved like a little boy when a diver appeared outside the boat, moving from window to window to keep the diver in view. What happened to the playful man she once loved?
Kayla blinked, forcing herself into the present. A diver fed a giant grouper in the window in front of Kayla and a large stingray floated into view, attracted by the diver’s supply of squid. Passengers crowded in to get a look, murmuring at the menacing appearance of the primeval creature.
Kayla remembered Patrick stealing a kiss…gentle, loving. Her throat constricted as she fought tears, forcing herself to listen to the commentary, taking notes she didn’t need. Everything reminded her of the man who betrayed her love. The dive ended too soon to suit the others, but Kayla felt happy to escape her memories.
Back on shore the tour group piled into a full-sized American van outfitted for right-sided driving conditions, but traffic drove on the left. Traversing the island by narrow, winding roads, the driver honked before heading into each blind curve then continued confidently at breakneck speed.
The bus stopped at Magen’s Bay, a mile-long stretch of immaculate white sand in a heart-shaped bay. Kayla envied the sunbathers. She took off her sandals, and her toes sank into the cool powdered-sugar sand.
Patrick and Kayla visited this beach on days off. He slathered oil onto her pale skin, arousing desire with sensuous fingers and seductive whispers. She toasted under the hot sun watching muscles ripple as he played beach volleyball. Later she soothed sunburned flesh in the cool water of the bay, while he caressed her body underwater and nibbled her neck until she ached. He ate fresh lobster, allowing melted butter to trickle down his chin, and she wiped off the mess with a paper napkin. He leaned against her hot body and described rubbing melted butter onto her skin before licking it off. They just barely made it back to Patrick’s cabin after each trip to the beach.
The affair lasted two years.
Irish by birth, Patrick was raised by a wealthy English aunt after his parents died. His aunt taught him to speak with a refined English accent and dress like he had money. She controlled him with money, changing her will at a whim until she died leaving him penniless. He took a job on the cruise line because a mate got him an interview, but he had little ambition until he met Kayla.
He acted like Cary Grant, charming and debonair with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. They made plans to start a charter boat business together and opened a joint savings account. It seemed like a perfect future.
After taking a vacation to Ireland with an Irish friend, Patrick changed. He spoke with a brogue and assumed an obnoxious attitude, suspicious, surly, and brusque. Obsessed about raising money for Irish orphans, he targeted rich women, used dirty tricks to fleece his marks, and accepted no criticism.
But Patrick was no longer Cary Grant; he was the dark villain Billy Zane played in Titanic. What happened in Ireland to alter Patrick’s character? Why didn’t he tell her what was wrong?
The island tour ended after visiting a mountaintop shopping mall and an old pirate’s castle. Kayla tipped the guide. She wandered through the shopping district, enjoying the welcome shade of the old-world “gades,” narrow stone passageways.
Memories of Patrick persisted. He bought her a delicate butterfly carved from black coral with wings outlined in gold from a shop frequented by the rich and famous. A tear fell onto her leather notebook. She cursed herself. With determination she dove into her work, making lists of new shops.
Making her way to the harbor, Kayla caught the noon ferry to St. John. The quiet small-town atmosphere was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of St. Thomas. Kayla lunched with a tourist board representative but her mind drifted again.
Patrick once promised to build their honeymoon cottage on St. John. He drew a sketch on a cocktail napkin and took her on a hike to Honeymoon Bay where they snorkeled in the crystal clear water.
Forcing her mind back to business, Kayla dutifully jotted notes, bid good-bye to her host, and hopped onto a local safari bus for another tour. Exhausted, Kayla boarded the 4:30 ferry to return to St. Thomas.
She slumped in her seat, a new broad-rimmed straw hat shading her eyes. Dozing she heard a bee buzzing. The sound grew louder. Tilting her hat she gazed out to sea and discovered the cause of the buzzing—a cigarette boat cutting across the wake of the ferry. Long and sleek, painted dark blue with fluorescent orange flames on the side, the boat bounced over the waves like a stone skipping across a pond. This was no pleasure craft out for a lark! It looked dangerous, the kind of boat drug runners used and Kayla recognized the passenger.
Patrick turned a furious stare in her direction. She flinched. His scowl looked familiar, reserved for displaying the worst of his tempers, and Kayla felt grateful she no longer loved this man. Sentimental memories aside, he was not the same carefree man she once loved. What made Patrick so angry? Could Shannon’s great mutiny be the cause?
Kayla rushed to her cabin. Shannon lounged on the bed with rollers in her hair, painting fingernails. “About time you got back. I’ve got good news
and bad news.” She tightened the lid on the nail polish and waved her hands to dry the wet polish. “We had a partial victory in our mutiny today. Parker Thomas is history.”
“He’s the one who fiddled the books?” Kayla asked.
Shannon nodded. “We manipulated headquarters to schedule an audit and expose his embezzlement, but Parker discovered a telex meant for the captain and escaped before he could be arrested. Funny how fast he cleared out. He’s not in jail but he’s gone.”
Kayla smiled. “So what’s the bad news?”
“Chadwick evaded our scheme.”
“Jefferson Chadwick the drug dealer?” Kayla asked. “What happened?”
“We engineered an anonymous tip to the St. Kitts police, and they were all set up to catch him with the goods. The scene looked absolutely normal but he got nervous and dumped a flight bag full of dope into the ocean. The police found the bag snagged on pilings under the pier. When the police stopped Chadwick, he was carrying a bag filled with dirty underwear. They couldn’t arrest him for laundry violations.” Shannon snapped. “Someone tipped him off. How else did he know what was coming down?”
“Can’t you try again?”
Shannon shrugged. “I doubt we’ll get a second chance now that he’s been warned. What a slime ball! We all want him out of our hair. Tell me about your day.”
Kayla fanned her notebook. “Got what I needed but I’m exhausted. I did see something strange on my way back from St. John. Patrick was riding in a cigarette boat storming into the harbor. He looked so angry he could kill.”
“Really?” Shannon sat up straight. “We suspected but didn’t know for sure.”
“Know what?”
“We think Patrick is Chadwick’s partner. They must have planned to rendezvous on one of the small islands between St. Kitts and St. Thomas to exchange drugs—the same drugs Chadwick chucked into the ocean. No wonder Patrick’s mad, losing out on all that money. This is great!”