Let’s hope the bad guys have as much trouble keeping eyes on them as we are.
Nearly a dozen undercover officers from the Nassau police department and various international agencies were scattered throughout the market. They tried to look inconspicuous, but Jessica managed to spot one or two of them. Primarily because they seemed more interested in checking out the crowd than the souvenirs.
“Where’s Finn?” she asked when she realized she didn’t see her on any of the screens. “If I were her, I’d be hanging on to Luisa for dear life.”
“She wanted to, but Officer Moreno and I convinced her to remain behind. Officer Morris and Miss Overstreet have received formal police training. Miss Chamberlain is a civilian. Neither Officer Moreno nor I wanted to put her at risk.”
Jessica couldn’t imagine what Finn was going through. Finn lived every day with the fear that Luisa might not make it home after her shift. Now she had to live with the fear that Luisa might not return from a shopping trip, an outing that was usually meant to be relaxing, not life-threatening.
“Is Finn on the ship or at the police station?”
“Miss Chamberlain is secure in her stateroom with a guard stationed at the door in case unauthorized personnel attempt to board the vessel while our attention is directed elsewhere. Though we believe the threat against Officer Moreno is real, any attempt on her life might be meant to serve as a diversion while they go after a bigger prize.”
“Modern-day pirates attack pleasure boats and cargo vessels all the time. Do you honestly think the Jaguars would seriously consider hijacking a cruise ship?”
“One of the reasons cruise ships now conduct cashless transactions is to make them less attractive targets to the more nefarious members of society. No matter what the individuals we’re looking for attempt to do, they won’t succeed.”
“How can you be sure? They successfully managed to infiltrate the staff of and take over an entire resort. What’s to stop them from overwhelming us, too?”
“The resort was caught unawares during more innocent times. The staff didn’t know what to look for. My team does. We’ve been trained to prevent such occurrences. If we are challenged, we will put that training to use.”
Jessica thought Dennis sounded more than a bit like Winston Churchill giving one of his many inspirational speeches during World War II. His confidence made her feel marginally better, but she wouldn’t be able to breathe again until Luisa and everyone with her was safe. Maybe not even then. There was still the matter of the conversation she needed to have with Breanna. She had tried once before, but she had put off saying what needed to be said. This time, she wouldn’t dodge the truth. She would face it head on, no matter what the consequences turned out to be.
Jessica’s breath caught when she spotted a familiar face on the screen. The man who had sat across from her in Plaza las Americas was trailing Luisa, Bathsheba, and Raq through the market. He was about twenty feet behind them and closing fast.
“There! That’s him!”
“Are you sure?”
Dennis selected one of the monitors and zoomed in on the image. Jessica instinctively retreated as the man’s face and upper body filled the screen.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve had nightmares about that guy since the first time I laid eyes on him. As long as I live, I’ll never be able to forget his face. Or that creepy smile of his.”
She shuddered as she remembered him watching Breanna shopping in the lingerie store. The lascivious way he had looked at Breanna had made her skin crawl, but she had been powerless to do anything about it. Now the power was in her hands.
In the market, the man pushed unsuspecting shoppers aside with one hand and reached inside his jacket with the other. Jessica expected him to draw a gun at any second. The note she had left for the maid to find had apparently been effective. In it, she had let the powers-that-be know in no uncertain terms that she had no intention of obeying the order she had received to kill Luisa. Though they hadn’t responded to her message, it hadn’t taken them long to put a willing assassin in her place. If the man took Luisa out, he would undoubtedly come after her next. Her, along with everyone else she held dear. A betrayal like hers, she knew, wouldn’t be allowed to go unpunished. She prayed the good guys would get to him first.
“Quick! Call it in. He’s making his move! You’ve got to stop him before he gets to Luisa!”
Dennis hurriedly activated the microphone on his headset radio. “This is Dennis Shapalov from the Majestic Dream. We have a positive ID. Our subject is a Latino male with medium-length black hair. He’s dressed in a white shirt and dark blue suit. He’s approximately five meters behind Officer Moreno and her party. He appears to be armed. Proceed with caution. We don’t want a bloodbath on our hands.”
Half a dozen officers swarmed the man and ordered him to his knees. As panicked tourists ran for cover, the man held his hands up and slowly sank to the ground.
“It’s over,” Dennis said as the man was handcuffed and taken into custody.
As people began to abandon their hiding places, another face appeared on the screen. A face Jessica recognized but hadn’t expected to see.
“It’s not over. It’s just beginning.”
* * *
“Jessica’s phone is going straight to voice mail and she isn’t in her room or in the gym. Do you have any idea where she could be?”
Breanna sounded like she was on the verge of a full-scale panic attack. Amy couldn’t blame her. She was close to losing it, too.
“Calm down, Bree. I’m heading to the security chief’s office now. Hold on. Someone’s hailing me on the walkie.” She unclipped the two-way radio from her belt and held the receiver to her lips. “This is Amy. Go ahead. Over.”
“We’ve got a problem in the atrium outside the excursion office,” Bobby said.
“Can it wait?”
“No, we have an honest-to-God emergency. I’ve already called for a doctor. You’d better get down here fast. Over.”
“This day is going from bad to worse,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll be there in a sec, Bobby. Over and out.” She put the walkie-talkie away and returned to her phone call as she sprinted toward the elevator. “Change of plans, Bree. I need you to talk to the security chief. I’ve got to check in on one of the passengers.”
“So I heard. I’m already on my way. And, Ames?”
Amy frantically pushed the down button on the elevator until the doors mercifully opened. “Yeah?”
“Be careful.”
The elevator doors slid shut and the car began to descend. “You, too.”
* * *
Spencer was admiring the craftsmanship on a series of driftwood sculptures when she heard the screams. Petty thievery was a common occurrence in many port cities, according to some of the guidebooks she had read. She thought the disturbance was caused by someone who had been robbed by a pickpocket and was trying to draw attention to the incident before the bandit disappeared into the large crowd.
At least ten other cruise ships were anchored in the harbor, and most of their passengers had headed straight for the open-air market near the port as they searched for last-minute souvenirs on the penultimate day of their respective itineraries.
Spencer ignored the disruption, confident the security guards posted throughout the market were on top of the situation. Then she saw dozens of people running past her like thrill seekers trying to dodge a herd of bulls in Pamplona.
She walked out of the market stall so she could see what everyone was trying to get away from, but there was too much chaos for her to determine the cause. All she caught were flashes of color and snippets of what sounded like a dozen foreign languages. She was about to take a few more steps forward when the shopkeeper grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“Fifty dollars.” The woman’s thick Bahamian accent gave her statement the lilting quality of a lullaby.
“What?”
“You want the seahorse? You pay me fifty dollars
first.”
Spencer had forgotten she had the three-foot-tall driftwood replica of a seahorse in her hand. She had been trying to decide between it, an octopus, and a primitive peace sign when the commotion began. The stated price for the seahorse was higher than she wanted to pay, but it didn’t seem like the right time or place to haggle. She pulled three twenties from her wallet and thrust the bills toward the woman. “Keep the change.”
“Have a nice day. Try not to get run over. It’s even crazier than usual out there.”
The shopkeeper didn’t seem too fazed about what was happening so Spencer didn’t know if she should take it seriously or blow it off. Her internal debate ended when she saw a woman holding Luisa, Bathsheba, and Raq at gunpoint.
Spencer’s Spanish was too limited for her to understand what the woman was saying, but her intent was obvious. She wasn’t trying to rob them. She meant to kill one or all of them. Luisa drew most of the woman’s focus, indicating she was the primary target. Raq and Bathsheba flanked her, shielding her from view. If the woman wanted Luisa, their positions made it clear she would have to go through them first.
Spencer slipped into a stall selling beach apparel and accessories. The stall’s owner and four prospective customers were hiding under a folding table laden with an array of sandals, flip-flops, and knockoff designer sunglasses. Spencer crawled past racks filled with beach towels and cover-ups until she reached the stall’s opening.
“This isn’t a video game, you know,” she reminded herself. “This is real life. This is no time to play hero.”
But if she didn’t assume the role, who would?
“Go big or go home.”
Based on the sound of her voice, the woman had to be less than three feet away. Spencer took a deep breath, braced her back against one of the rack’s metal supports, and pushed with all her might. The rack tipped over, spilling bikinis, T-shirts, board shorts, and rash guards on the woman’s head. The woman yelped in surprise and spun toward her. Spencer raised the driftwood seahorse like it was an ax and brought it down hard on the woman’s wrist.
The gun flew from the woman’s hand. Spencer didn’t wait to see where it went. She swung the sculpture again, aiming for the woman’s head. The seahorse’s curled tail caught her squarely on the chin.
The woman spun and went down, dazed but still conscious. Luisa and Raq took care of the rest. They rolled the woman onto her stomach and held her down until the police arrived a few seconds later.
Bathsheba secured the gun before she helped Spencer to her feet. “Are you out of your mind? She could have shot you.”
Spencer dusted herself off and tucked the sculpture under her arm. The seahorse had seemed overpriced a few minutes ago. Now its worth was beyond measure. “They don’t call me Kamikaze Collins for nothing.”
* * *
“Yes!” Jessica thrust her arms in the air like she was helping a client celebrate the achievement of a hard-earned fitness goal. “Did you see that?”
“Who were those women?” Dennis asked.
“The woman with the gun was Pilar Obregon.”
“The alleged head of the cartel targeting Officer Moreno?”
“Yep, that’s her. She looks like a beauty queen because she used to be one. Don’t let the pretty face fool you, though. She’s as ruthless as they come. The woman who knocked her on her ass just now is one of our passengers.”
“Why would someone who wields as much power as Miss Obregon does place herself at such risk? She could have sent anyone to do her bidding. It doesn’t seem logical for her to perform the job herself.”
“Luisa killed Pilar’s lover a few months ago. Luisa was just doing her job, but Pilar wanted her to pay for her actions. After I refused to follow orders, she was obviously so hell-bent on revenge she decided to pull the trigger herself. She almost succeeded, too.” Jessica watched as Luisa, Bathsheba, Raq, and Spencer exchanged a round of high fives. “Love makes you do crazy things.”
“Is that the excuse you’ve decided to go with?”
Jessica turned to find Breanna standing behind her.
Breanna’s eyes darted from Jessica’s face to the bank of monitors and back again.
“What’s going on, Jess? Why haven’t you answered any of my calls? Bobby said you were under house arrest.”
“Not quite. I’ve been in here helping the security team with something. I’m done now. With all of it.”
Jessica reached for her, but Breanna backed away, rejecting her before she’d even had a chance to explain. No, that wasn’t true. She’d had plenty of chances. She had simply chosen not to take any of them.
“I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, Bree, and I’m trying to make up for them.”
Breanna’s chin quivered as she tried not to cry. “So it’s true? You smuggled drugs on the ship? You and Brandon were working together? You’re the reason he got arrested?”
“I advise you not to answer any of those questions without a lawyer present,” Dennis said.
“That means the answer to each of my questions is yes,” Breanna said.
“Ah, well,” Dennis stammered. “This is a conversation that needs to be had between the two of you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to inform Miss Chamberlain that the threat against Officer Moreno has been successfully averted.”
“How?” Breanna asked after Dennis left. “Why? For how long?”
Breanna sounded defeated. Jessica felt the same way.
“It started before I met you. Little things at first, then larger and larger favors.”
“Why didn’t you say no?”
“I wanted to, but the temptation was too great. I was offered a quick and easy way to earn enough money to open my own gym and I took it. Now my bank accounts are frozen and all my money’s gone. If it isn’t already, it soon will be. I would say I’m back at square one, but I’m actually worse off because I have even less now than I did when I started out.”
“That’s not true.” Breanna took her hand. “You’ve still got me. ‘Ohana means family, remember?”
Jessica blinked back tears of gratitude. “How could I forget?”
* * *
The Majestic Dream featured three atriums: a small one on the lower promenade deck and larger ones on the two decks immediately above. The atrium on the promenade deck was so grand it looked like a set from a classic Hollywood movie. Each time she walked past it, Amy half-expected to see Cary Grant or Ingrid Bergman standing under the stained glass skylight at the top.
The ship’s doctor had already arrived by the time she reached the promenade deck, and a large crowd of onlookers had gathered around him. She squeezed her way through the throng to see what had captured everyone’s attention.
A woman lay on her back at the foot of the winding staircase. She was wearing an Evel Knievel T-shirt and a pair of board shorts emblazoned with illustrations of vintage motorcycles. Her right ankle was visibly swollen and already starting to bruise.
“It feels like a bad sprain rather than a break,” the doctor said, “but I’ll need to take a few X-rays to confirm.”
Amy knelt next to them. She was glad to hear the woman was going to be okay, but she needed to make sure neither SOS Tours nor the ship’s owners were about to have a lawsuit on their hands. “Did you fall? Were you pushed?”
“The banister looks like the one in my parents’ house,” the woman said. “I tried to slide down it like I used to when I was a kid. My feet got caught up in the railings before I made it halfway down and I ended up doing a header. Just like I used to when I as a kid. My mom always said I was going to break my neck one day. I’m starting to think she might be psychic.” She grinned. “At least I’ll have a great yarn to share at the farewell dinner tonight. Lesbians dig scars—and the stories behind them. If my ankle isn’t broken, doc, do you think you can strap it up nice and tight? Bandages are almost as good as casts when it comes to garnering sympathy points.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
&
nbsp; The doctor helped the woman into a wheelchair so he could ferry her to the infirmary three decks below and conduct a more thorough examination on her injured ankle.
“Let me know if the injury is too serious to be treated on the ship,” Amy said. “If it is, I’ll need to accompany you to the hospital.”
“If I’d known I had a chance to spend the afternoon with you holding my hand,” the woman said with a wink, “I would have done this days ago. Maybe I should give it another shot.”
When the woman made a move to get out of the wheelchair, Amy pushed her back into it.
“Stay put. I don’t think my heart could take much more drama today.” She eagerly reached for her cell phone when she saw Breanna’s name printed on the display. “Please tell me you have good news.”
“That depends on your definition of good.”
Breanna began to weave a tale that seemed far-fetched but turned out to be all too true.
“Are you sure it was Spencer who took Pilar down?” Amy asked when Breanna had shared all the information she had gathered from Jessica and the security team. “She could have been seriously hurt. Maybe even killed.”
“But she wasn’t. No one else was, either. Spencer, Luisa, Raq, and Bathsheba have to wrap up a few things at the police station first, then they’ll be free to explore Nassau or return to the ship.” Breanna sighed. “Today was bad, Ames, but it could have been so much worse.”
“I know the perfect way to make it better. I’ll talk to you later, Bree. I have a dinner to plan.”
And it could turn out to be the most important meal of her life.
Night Seven
Spencer put on the tuxedo, pleated shirt, and dress shoes she had purchased from the boutique when she returned to the ship that afternoon. She wasn’t going to like the looks of her credit card bill next month, but she loved the image that reflected back at her when she peered in the mirror: a woman who was confident and sure of herself, not an awkward loner who was afraid of her own shadow. A woman who was striding toward the future, not running from her past.
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