Pleasure Cruise

by Yolanda Wallace

  Spencer was envious of Hannah and Maneet’s uncomplicated relationship. What she and Amy had was much more complex.

  She wanted to spend her last full day of vacation with Amy. Conversing with her. Getting to know her. Venturing into places tourists flocked to and finding out-of-the-way establishments only locals seemed to know about. Given the current state of their relationship, trying to do those things tomorrow would have been beyond awkward. This time, unlike in Grand Turk, San Juan, or Phillipsburg, Spencer would be better off going it alone.

  What else was new?

  * * *

  Jessica had taught so many classes over the years that most of the attendees’ faces had blurred together. Yet another cruise had almost come to an end. One more day of classes remained before she could return home and prepare for the next round. She was scheduled to report to the Isaacsons’ gym bright and early Monday morning. Her next cruise was supposed to start in three weeks, an eight-day trip to the Dominican Republic, Curacao, and Aruba. She hadn’t traveled that route in a couple of years and had been looking forward to the change of scenery. If she truly meant to straighten up the mess she had made of her life, though, this trip had to be her last. She needed to turn in her notice and walk away from her old life so she could start a new one somewhere else. So she could be someone else. Someone Breanna could be proud of.

  “Good job, everyone,” she said after she led her group of power walkers back to their starting point and ran them through a series of light stretches to cool down. “I’ll see you back here at the same time tomorrow. It’ll be our last time together.” The comment drew a chorus of disappointed groans as it always did. Each passenger was different, but none of them liked being reminded that their vacation was about to come to an end. “Let’s make tomorrow a day to remember. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

  Kendra Walsh, the assistant manager, was closing up tonight so Jessica was off the clock for the rest of the day. After her power walking class broke up, she tried to find something to help her wind down. She headed up to the lido deck to see if one of the masseuses could squeeze her into the schedule.

  “No can do,” the receptionist said as she studied the appointment book. “All the passengers are trying to get their last licks in before the trip ends. Everyone on staff is booked solid today and tomorrow.”

  “Fine. Since I can’t get my kinks worked out, I’ll spend some time sweating my ass off in the sauna instead.”

  “Have at it. You’ve got two to choose from. Since there aren’t any male passengers, the men’s sauna and locker room are both up for grabs this week.”

  The majority of the men’s restrooms had been temporarily rebranded as well, alleviating the long bathroom lines that occasionally plagued straight cruises.

  Jessica headed to the renamed locker room and stashed her clothes in one of the cubbyholes. She donned a complimentary pair of flip-flops provided by the salon, wrapped an oversized towel around her body, and headed to the sauna.

  She felt the heat before she opened the door. The pebbled glass window was covered in steam and the brass doorknob was warm to the touch. Almost uncomfortably so. Once she was inside, she checked her palm to see if she had been burned. The skin was bright pink, but the heightened color was already starting to fade.

  The three multi-level wooden seating areas were each large enough to accommodate four to six people. A four-foot-tall container filled with water and heated rocks stood in the center of the room.

  The view alone was worth the price of admission. One wall was composed of thick glass, providing an unobstructed view of the crystal clear sky above and the similarly hued ocean below.

  The room was empty, giving Jessica free rein. She positioned herself next to the window and peered out. Despite the soothing setting, she couldn’t seem to relax. The ship was scheduled to arrive in Fort Lauderdale at eight a.m. on Saturday, giving her less than a day and a half to follow orders—or pay the price for refusing to comply.

  “Plenty of time to choose between becoming a murderer or a drug dealer. No rush.”

  The thermostat on the far wall read one hundred seventy degrees, more than enough for Jessica to work up a sweat. She tossed her towel aside as drops of perspiration began to form on her face, arms, and shoulders. She poured water on the heated stones in the center of the room, sending a burst of steam into the dry air.

  “Do you mind if we join you?” Raq asked as she and Luisa entered the sauna.

  “Come on in. I hope you like it hot.”

  “That’s the main reason we’re here.” Raq spread a towel on one of the seats opposite Jessica and draped her arms across the bench above her. “I had a few too many glasses of champagne celebrating some friends’ engagement. I need to sweat out the alcohol if I don’t want to spend the rest of the day passed out in my stateroom.”

  “Is that why I missed seeing you in the gym today? You were too busy barhopping to hit the weights?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Which friends got engaged? Have I met them?”

  “You’ve met one of them. Tatum’s a regular in your spin classes.”

  “She told me a little about her girlfriend the other day. They sound like they have a solid relationship. They must if they’re planning to tie the knot. I’ll have to take it easy on her tomorrow. If she looks anything like you two, chances are she won’t be feeling too good.”

  “I can drink tequila like it’s water,” Luisa said, “but champagne always goes right to my head.”

  “Must be the bubbles.”

  “Must be.”

  “Have you been able to talk to your friend?” Raq asked.

  “What’s her name again?” Luisa asked. “I don’t think you ever said.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Did you tell her about my offer, at least?” Raq asked.

  “I haven’t reached out to her yet.” The sweat forming on Jessica’s forehead had more to do with the increasing pressure she was under than the rising heat in the room. “I’ll meet up with her when I get back to Fort Lauderdale. Some conversations are meant to be had face-to-face instead of from a distance.”

  Raq and Luisa shared a look. “That’s the other reason why we’re here.” Raq leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees. “You trust me, right?”

  “Yeah.” Jessica felt like Raq and Luisa were setting her up for something, but they couldn’t be because it was plain to see neither was wearing a wire. “I trust you.”

  “Then why don’t you tell us what’s really going on? What are you mixed up in?”

  “I’m not—”

  Jessica’s first instinct was to distance herself from what Raq was implying, but she didn’t have the strength or the energy to do so. The time had finally come for her to face her problems instead of running from them.

  She told Raq and Luisa everything. From the first run she had made to the one she hoped would be her last. Then she told them about the man she had met in Plaza las Americas. The man who had ordered her to become something she knew she could never be: a killer.

  “You said he had a tattoo on his arm?” Luisa dragged her index finger through the condensation on the floor-to-ceiling window. “Did it look something like this?”

  Jessica looked at the design Luisa had etched on the glass. A picture of a jaguar poised in mid-leap. “Yes, that’s it.” She joined Luisa by the window. “Brandon has one, too, but his looks more like this.”

  Luisa tapped the drawing she had made. “This tattoo is used to let people know the bearer is a hit man for the Jaguars cartel.” She tapped the drawing Jessica had created. “We’ve spotted this one on a few low-level dealers. Insecure types who like to inflate their role in the organization.”

  “That description fits Brandon to a T.” She examined Luisa’s calm, determined face. “You seem awfully relaxed for someone who’s just been told a cartel leader wants her dead.”

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this story.”r />
  “For your sake,” Raq said, “I hope the story ends as well as it did the last time.”

  “It’d better,” Luisa said. “Because if Pilar’s men don’t kill me, Finn will.”

  “I think it’s time you found a new line of work, dog.”

  “So do I. Let’s not plan the retirement party just yet, though. I’ve got a few more bad guys to catch first. Are you up for it, Raq?”

  “I’m down for anything. You know that.”

  “What about you, Jessica? I’ve dealt with this organization before. Its leaders don’t react well when someone turns on them. If things go sideways, they could come after you, too. I’m not trying to pressure you, but I need to know if you’re in or out.”

  “I’m in.” Jessica didn’t need to hear what Luisa had in mind to know the mission would be dangerous. Given a chance to clear her conscience as well as her name, she had to take the risk.

  “The ship’s security team will search Brandon’s room,” Luisa said. “If they find his stash, they’ll quietly take him into custody and turn him over to Interpol when we reach port tomorrow.”

  “What about me?” Jessica asked. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Start by leaving a note for the maid to find. She’ll deliver it to her contact, and that person will send word up the chain of command.”

  “What should the note say?”

  “The truth. That you can’t bring yourself to do what you were asked to do.”

  “Do you want me to return the gun, too?”

  “No, hand it over to ship security,” Raq said. “They’ll tag it, bag it, and keep it as evidence. The serial number has probably been filed off, but maybe someone can CSI that shit and find out what it is so we can run a trace on where it was purchased and by who. Give them your burner phone, too, so they can read the texts and research the call history.”

  “While they’re doing that, I’ll call a few people to see if they can get their hands on the security footage from the mall,” Luisa said. “Once they do, they can run our guy’s image through facial recognition software and try to ID him.”

  “We should hook you up with a sketch artist, too,” Raq said. “It’s a low-tech way to go, but you’d be surprised how often it brings results.”

  “All the things you mentioned take time, don’t they?” Jessica asked. “I was told to take care of you before the trip ends. That gives us less than two days.”

  “I know we’re up against a deadline,” Luisa said, “but some pieces of the puzzle won’t fall into place overnight. The legal system simply doesn’t work that fast. The Jaguars won’t wait for us to get our ducks in a row before they make their move. The clock will start as soon as the maid picks up your note. I expect Pilar, or whoever’s currently in charge of the cartel, will have someone in place by tomorrow.”

  “That means the three of us need to get our shit together by tonight,” Raq said. “You didn’t happen to pack your bulletproof vest, did you?”

  “Hopefully, I won’t need it,” Luisa said. “As long as I remain in a crowd, the hit man won’t have a clear shot at me. He’ll have to get the job done up close. I like my chances if I have to resort to hand-to-hand combat, but I hope the situation doesn’t get that hairy.”

  “Don’t worry, dog,” Raq said. “If shit pops off, I’ve got your back.”

  “That’s all well and good,” Jessica said, “but who’s got mine?”

  Day Seven

  Amy walked through the ship’s main dining room with Breanna, Gage Henderson, and Bobby Roberts at her side. Gage was the Majestic Dream’s event coordinator and Bobby was SOS Tours’ creative director. Breakfast service was well underway as they conducted their walkthrough, so they occasionally had to dodge waiters and passengers bearing plates of food.

  Lunch service was scheduled to begin in less than three hours. Once lunch service ended, SOS’ employees and members of the ship’s crew would have less than four hours to prepare the vast space for that night’s formal farewell dinner.

  The theme Gage and Bobby had chosen for the event was Until We Meet Again. Their vision was ambitious with lots of moving parts. Decorations. Place cards. Party favors. The whole works. Amy didn’t know if they would be able to pull it off in the allotted time. She didn’t want the night—or the week—to end on a bad note.

  “Prom committees take months to take their ideas from start to finish,” she said. “Wedding planners, too. Final setup can take days. Are you guys sure four hours is going to provide us with enough of a turnaround? Maybe we should ask the kitchen to end lunch service early to give ourselves more time to get things ready.”

  Bobby placed his hands on his hips. “Girl, party planning is what I do. When have you ever known me to miss a deadline? Try never, okay? Bitches and queens get shit done. You should count your lucky stars you’ve got both.”

  “You’re not the first cruise director who’s worked herself into a panic over logistics,” Gage said. “And rest assured you won’t be the last. Sit back, relax, and let the experts do what they do best. Bobby and I won’t let you down.”

  “I can guarantee the decorations will be on point,” Bobby said. “What you need to do is check with the kitchen to make sure they’ll have their act together. All the guests are going to be in a festive mood tonight because it’s the last night of the cruise, but the good vibes won’t last long if their food doesn’t make it to the tables on time.”

  “Our kitchen staff is accustomed to serving much larger crowds than we’ll be responsible for tonight,” Gage said. “I’m confident food service will be fine. It’s the other service areas I’m worried about.”

  Amy’s heart sank. The trip had gone incredibly well so far. Even better than she had hoped for, to be honest. The praises SOS Tours and its staffers had received during the week had far outnumbered the complaints, a fact her bosses had been overjoyed to hear when she forwarded the information to them last night.

  She was so close to accomplishing her goal of doing her part to get the company back on track. She couldn’t afford for the final impression to be a negative one.

  “What’s your cause for concern, Gage?”

  “We’re down three people.”

  “Who?”

  “A porter, a maid, and a fitness instructor. We have sufficient staffing to cover for a staff shortage in the gym. We’ll need as many people as possible to ferry luggage from the ship to the dock on Saturday, and we’re asking the other housekeepers to cover for the absent one. An efficient maid can clean fourteen to sixteen rooms during a shift. The rest of the staff will have to find a way to divvy up the affected rooms.”

  “Three people are missing at the same time?” This was the first Amy had heard about a staffing shortage. “Did they walk out or get fired?”

  Gage lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “The security staff’s trying to keep everything under wraps, but I hear drugs were involved. The porter was led away in handcuffs this morning, and the maid was taken in for questioning.”

  “What about the fitness instructor?” Breanna asked.

  “She’s been placed on house arrest ‘for her protection.’” Bobby used air quotes to frame the words. “She allegedly brought the drugs on board. From what I heard, it isn’t the first time. Just the first time she’s gotten caught.” He turned to Breanna. “Have you talked to Jessica today?”

  “I haven’t heard from her since last night. She said she’d be out of touch today but she hoped to see me tonight so she could explain some things she wasn’t able to discuss a few days ago.” Breanna’s eyes widened. “Do you think she’s involved in this?”

  Amy fervently hoped the answer was no, but she was hesitant to commit one way or the other. “You know her better than I do. What is your gut telling you?”

  “That we have more important things to worry about than planning a party.”

  That’s what Amy was afraid of. Visions of Cancún were already running through her head. Was SOS about to
have a repeat of what was initially considered a once-in-a-lifetime event?

  “Try and get Jessica on the phone to see if she knows what’s going on,” she said, switching to crisis mode. “While you’re doing that, I’ll pay a visit to the security chief. He’s in the best position to shed some light on things. Perhaps the situation isn’t as dire as we’re making it out to be.”

  “And if it is?” Bobby asked.

  “We’ll have to find a way to avert a disaster before it occurs.”

  * * *

  In the ship’s security room, Jessica sat in front of a bank of monitors and peered at the images flickering across the rectangular screens. Dennis Shapalov, the Majestic Dream’s head of security, sat next to her. Two other members of Dennis’s team crowded into the room, too, either to keep an eye on her, the monitors, or both.

  She wasn’t being treated like a criminal, but she was definitely starting to feel like one. Brandon’s arrest had had a sobering effect on her. She had thought she would feel relieved once the crackdown began. Instead, all she felt was resigned to the fact that she might be taken in next. Just because she was cooperating with the authorities didn’t mean she was off the hook. No one had offered her immunity yet, so her legal fate was still up in the air. If the people she was betraying vowed to exact revenge, as Luisa had warned they were prone to do, she might feel safer behind bars than on the streets.

  “Our feed normally comes from the ship’s numerous security cameras.” Dennis fiddled with some of the controls on the complex security system. “Today, the Nassau police department was able to link us into its closed-circuit system. Let me know the instant you see someone you think you recognize so I can relay the information to the agents trailing Officer Moreno.”

  Jessica leaned in to get a closer look. Luisa’s, Raq’s, and Bathsheba’s images appeared on all eight screens, each screen depicting them from a different angle. She watched them browse in one of the many stalls lining the dock. A large throng of tourists surrounded them, making it difficult to track their progress. The three of them were clearly visible one moment, and out of sight the next. Just like Luisa had planned.