by Judith Gould
Jenny wanted to recoil in revulsion, but told herself it was what she had to do, must do. Besides, she thought, she’d done it countless times before, hadn’t she? His was just another cock in a long line of them, smaller than some, larger than others. The big difference was that his was the key to unlocking a huge fortune that came with a powerful family of international repute and all the trappings that implied. What could be sexier? With that thought, she overcame her disgust and flicked at him with her tongue, teasing him, enjoying his whimpers of desire, making certain that her breasts brushed against his legs tauntingly. She began licking him as if she was desperate for him, and finally took him into her mouth as if his was the most desirable cock in the world.
He emitted a long, low moan as she laved him with her tongue, moving her head from side to side and up and down, his hands pushing down on it relentlessly, forcing as much of himself inside her as possible. He came quickly, letting out a little grunt, then relaxed his hold on her.
Jenny went into the bathroom without saying anything, then came back out. His eyes were closed, and he looked like a dead man, she thought, except that she could see the rise and fall of his chest. She slid onto the bed again, cuddling next to him. “That was wonderful,” she cooed into his ear, playing her role to the hilt.
He opened his eyes and smiled. “You are wonderful,” he replied. “You make me feel like a new man.”
Yeah, me and all that Viagra you take, Jenny thought. “It makes me feel so . . . so . . . well, fabulous that I make you happy,” she said. “You know how I’ve played around. It’s no secret. But I’ve been so desperate, and no one has shown me any real love. With you, it’s different. I know you don’t want me just for my body, and it doesn’t really matter to me so much about the sex. It’s you. All of you. Your goodness and integrity. Your wisdom and fairness.”
When he didn’t reply, she struggled for more words. Words that would bolster his ego, words that would make her look good in his eyes. “You know I don’t need your money: I’ve got enough of my own. No, it’s not that. It’s who you are, deep down inside that matters to me.”
He turned to her and smiled. “Well said,” he replied. “I think you are quite the diplomat, Jenny.” He patted her bare thigh.
You bet I am, she thought. She smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Ludwig,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes. “Coming from a Von Meckling, I will accept that as a great compliment.”
The old doctor nodded slightly. “Yes, my dear,” he said. “Indeed, it is one of the highest compliments I could give you.”
Jenny smiled as if thrilled. I’ll get you, you old goat, she thought. You and your ancient name and all your beautiful money and estates and the prestige and social standing that go with them. And when you’re gone—only a matter of a few short years at the most—I can have any man in the world I want.
“Oh, Ludwig,” she cooed, “you make me so happy.”
The door opened, and a tall behemoth of a man filled the doorway. He was big-boned and muscular-looking, but his smile was friendly. “Ms. Fitzgerald,” he said, offering his hand, “Mikelos Christopolous.” Crissy took it to shake, and her hand was engulfed by his huge, meaty paw of a hand. “Mind if I look around?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she replied.
Mikelos Christopolous stepped into the cabin, his eyes scanning the room. He stopped at the bed, staring down at the torn underwear. “Does all of this belong to you?” he asked.
Crissy nodded. “Yes.”
“None of it belongs to your travel companion?”
“No, it’s all mine,” she said. “None of it belongs to Jenny.”
He stared down at the bed again. “Odd,” he said after a few moments.
“What’s that?”
“There doesn’t appear to be any evidence of seminal fluid,” he replied. He looked at her with intelligent eyes. “That’s often the case,” he added.
“I see,” Crissy said.
“Did you move anything here?” he asked.
“I picked up a pair of panties,” Crissy said. She walked to the side of the bed and pointed to them. “Those black ones. Then I threw them back down.”
“Don’t touch anything else,” he said. “I’m going to have our forensics man come up and take pictures then bag everything. You never know what he might find.”
“I took some pictures with my digital camera,” Crissy said.
“Very good,” Christopolous said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take your camera with me and download your pictures. We’ll have yours to supplement his. I’ll get your camera back to you right away.”
“That’s fine,” she said.
Christopolous took a small notepad and pen from a pocket. “Now, Ms. Fitzgerald,” he said. “If you—”
“Crissy, please.”
“And I’m Mikelos,” he replied with a smile. “If you don’t mind answering some questions?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay,” he said, looking over at her. “Let’s have a seat, then I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
Crissy repeated what she’d told the captain, adding that Mark was upset by her not wanting to return to his cabin for a nightcap, but also telling him what Jenny had said about being with Mark.
“What time did you come back from the dining room?”
Crissy answered his questions as best she could for the next fifteen minutes or so, and he jotted down her responses. “I’ve talked to the captain,” Christopolous said at last. “He told me you were going to make a list of the people you know on the ship?”
“Yes,” Crissy replied. She handed him the sheet of ship’s stationery with the names. “I think I’ve listed everyone.”
“Very good,” he said, looking down at it. Crissy noticed that he gave no outward sign of recognition when he saw Luca’s name on it. He folded it and tucked it inside his notepad.
“We have a record of every single call made on this ship. We know from which telephone they’re placed and to what telephone number they are made.”
“That’s incredible,” Crissy replied, her eyes brightening with hope.
He nodded. “Someone could’ve used a cell phone, of course, but we’ll get to the bottom of this, Ms. Fitzgerald, I promise you that. If a public telephone was used, we can also install a minicam near the telephone where the calls were made to see if we can eventually get the caller on video. I think if we catch the caller, we’re going to be catching whoever got in here.”
“I wonder who could’ve gotten in here?” Crissy asked, suddenly more worried than ever. She had felt violated by the calls, but this was so perverse, she didn’t know what to think.
“We’re certainly taking that into consideration,” Christopolous replied.
“Thanks, Mikelos,” she replied. “I feel a lot better now. The telephone calls were scary, but this—” she gestured to the bed—“this really frightens me.”
“We’ll do everything we can,” he reassured her. “We’re going to be putting a plainclothes security person on you the rest of the trip, or until we catch whoever is doing this.”
“You think that’s necessary?”
“I think we have to do anything we can to make certain you’re safe and that we catch this sicko,” he said. “Sorry about your underwear, by the way, but it looks like it’s all ruined.”
“Yes,” Crissy nodded. “I don’t think I could touch it even if it wasn’t.”
“I can understand that,” Christopolous replied. “Do you think you need to see the ship’s doctor? Maybe he could give you a tranquilizer or something.”
“No,” Crissy said, shaking her head. “I’ll be okay.”
There was a knock at the door. “That’ll be my forensics man,” Christopolous said. “Stefanos Sitara. I’ll get it.” He rose to his feet, his large frame towering over her.
He opened the door, then introduced Crissy to Sitara. “I won’t be long,” he told her.
“I’ll be off,�
� Christopolous said. “Let me get your camera, and I’ll have someone bring it right back to you after downloading.”
Crissy fetched it from the vanity and handed it to him.
“Why don’t you try to get some rest after Stefanos is out of here,” he said, “and tomorrow, say after breakfast, check with the Information Desk. I may know something by then, and I’ll leave a message for you.”
“I will, and thanks, Mikelos.”
He left, and Crissy watched as Stefanos Sitara, a short, wiry man who wore wire-rimmed glasses, photographed the bed from various angles. Afterward, he slipped on latex gloves, then gathered up her torn underwear and put it in a plastic bag.
“We’ll have it checked for prints and any fluids,” he said. “See if we come up with anything.”
“You can do that on the ship?” she asked.
He nodded. “You’d be surprised at the resources we have available to us,” he replied.
“But if you don’t have fingerprints from the passengers, what good would it do if you found any?” she asked.
“Who said it was a passenger?” Sitara asked, looking at her. “We don’t know that. Besides, if we have a suspect, then we can get prints from him to see if they match any we find on the underwear, if there are any.”
Crissy opened and held the door for him. After he was gone, she slumped into a chair. Christopolous and Sitara had taken the incident very seriously, and Crissy felt more secure now, knowing that an undercover security person would be in close proximity to her for the rest of the trip.
After he left, she went through her drawers and the closet to see what, if any, underwear she had left. The cabin door opened, and Jenny stepped in.
“What are you doing?” Jenny asked, “and who were those men that I saw leaving here?”
“I’m looking for underwear,” Crissy said, “and the men who just left here are from Security.”
“Security?” Jenny parroted. “What’s Security doing here?”
Crissy told her what had happened.
Jenny’s eyes grew large with alarm. “What the hell have you been up to?”
“What do you mean?” Crissy responded, sitting down on the bed and looking up at her.
“Well, these things don’t just happen, Crissy,” Jenny said. “You’ve brought it on yourself somehow or other. Some creep you’ve been sneaking around with might have done it, or that creepy doctor you’ve been seeing. He’s seems like just the kind of pervert who would do something like this.” She wondered if Mark had anything to do with this as Crissy had originally thought. Despite her having been there the night when Crissy had a call, she knew that he’d already told her to leave before Crissy actually got the call. She also thought that Mark Vilos was weird—he kicked her out, didn’t he?—but she didn’t want to share any of this information with Crissy.
“That is not true,” Crissy cried, “and I won’t sit here and listen to you say things like that about Luca. And I really don’t appreciate your saying that I brought it on myself. I haven’t been ‘sneaking around’ seeing anybody, as you put it.”
“Well, you don’t have to get so damn heated up about it,” Jenny replied, shrugging her shoulders. “That’s usually the way it works, isn’t it? A woman teases some guy, then something like this happens.”
Crissy felt like screaming at her, but she restrained herself. “I haven’t been asking for anything, Jenny,” she replied angrily. “How dare you say such a thing. You know I’m not that kind of person.” She paused, ascertaining that the man who’d broken in had taken out all of her good underwear. “You know, I would have expected sympathy from you. I thought you were my friend. This has been really scary. How would you like it if somebody was calling you? Huh? How would you like it if somebody came in here and tore up your underwear? I don’t think you’d like it very much, would you?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jenny said with a laugh. “He might be pretty hot, right? Anyway, he must think you are.”
“That’s disgusting,” Crissy said.
“Oh, get off your fucking high horse,” Jenny said. “You’ve always got to be Miss Goody Two-shoes, don’t you? Here you have an opportunity to meet some really cool guys. Really rich guys, and I mean rich. Not Albany rich, but European rich. And what do you do? Get all crazy over some weirdo making phone calls and date the ship’s doctor, some Italian lowlife who probably got his medical degree in Guatemala or someplace.”
Crissy glared at her for a moment, then asked, “Why have you turned on me? Why aren’t you my friend anymore, Jenny? Did I do something to change things? Or is it because I’ve always been the wallflower when we’ve gone out and suddenly there are men actually paying attention to me, not just you? Is that it?”
Jenny laughed. “Think whatever you want to,” she said, “because I don’t really give a damn. I don’t have a problem getting men, that’s for sure, and as far as I know, you don’t have any prospects. That so-called doctor’s probably screwing any chick that’ll have him.”
Crissy wanted nothing more than to get up off the bed and smack Jenny’s face. Hard. But she remained sitting, trying to calm down her overwrought feelings. “I don’t want to discuss this anymore,” she finally said.
“Fine,” Jenny said. “It’s really a bore, so let’s forget about it. Besides, I’ve got to go to bed. All this fucking is wearing me out.”
Chapter Fifteen
Crissy slept very late after being up so long dealing with Christopolous about the slashing incident, and when she finally got out of bed, it was nearly time to disembark for the shore excursions in Tenerife. As much as she wanted to see the island, she simply wasn’t in the mood after what had occurred last night. After showering, she dressed and went up to the cafeteria. Even though breakfast was soon over, she knew that the coffee urns were replenished throughout the day, and coffee was all that she really wanted. She didn’t have the stomach for food, and it wasn’t because of the increasingly rough sea. The events of last night had left a bad taste in her mouth.
Keeping her feet spread wide to help keep her balance, she found an empty seat where she could see out both port and starboard windows. It was useless to try to go outside. The wind was fierce, and the ship’s pitching and rolling, even while docked, was severe. Periodic showers doused the decks. Looking toward shore, she could see how the wind lashed at the palm-studded island, and looking toward the sea, she saw that the waves were much bigger than usual, forming whitecaps as far as the eye could see.
She ate to the accompaniment of little shrieks from all around the dining room as trays slid from tables, glasses overturned, and other minor disasters occurred. No one fell, however, at least not while she was there, but there were very few passengers in the dining room. She supposed that a lot of people were forgoing breakfast from fear of falling or because of seasickness, and others were lining up to go ashore.
After she had some coffee, the rain stopped. She ventured out on deck, carefully grasping at chairs and tables until she reached the staircase that would take her up to the pool deck. She wanted to look out to sea from there and get a better view of the storm. By the time she reached the top deck, her clothes were nearly soaked through from the spray. But Crissy didn’t mind: it felt cleansing after the scene in her cabin. Several other intrepid souls such as herself had already commandeered positions at the railing. Some of them were taking photographs; others stared out as if mesmerized by the raging sea and stormy skies. For awhile, she surveyed the choppy swells and dark skies with them, her spirits paradoxically calmed by the tempest, but when it began raining again, the wind whipping the raindrops against her in stinging blows, she decided it was time to go back belowdecks.
She decided that she would have to call the hospital and tell Luca what had happened. She would also have to tell him that she put his name on the list. She didn’t want to interrupt him while he was working, but she certainly didn’t want him to receive a surprise visit from Christopolous or one of his men.
> Back inside, protected from the elements, Crissy cautiously made her way back down to her deck, taking her time and holding onto the numerous railings along the walls and on the stairs when she could. She considered using the elevators for the first time, but they weren’t operating due to the ship’s rolling and heaving. Carefully descending the stairs, she saw a tiny elderly woman she’d seen many times before, only now she had a sling on her left arm. An attendant was helping her down the stairs.
“Hello, there,” the woman said in English.
“Hi,” Crissy said. “I see you’ve had an accident. I hope it’s not too serious.”
“Oh, dear,” the woman said in a birdlike voice. “I fell down the steps, so it could have been a lot worse, but it’s just a sprained shoulder. Watch your step, because this is a dangerous storm. I’ve been on many, many cruises, and this is the first time I’ve been injured.”
“I will,” Crissy said, “and I hope you feel better soon.”
“Oh, that wonderful young doctor tells me I’ll have to wear this thing for the rest of the trip. Imagine! Well, I guess I’m lucky—after all, at my age, I could have been killed.”
“Feel better,” Crissy said, starting back down the stairs.
Once she reached her cabin, she dialed the hospital, and when Voula answered, she asked to speak to Dr. Santo.
“Who may I say is calling?”
“This is Crissy Fitzgerald,” she replied, “and I—”
Without letting her finish, Voula said, “One moment, Ms. Fitzgerald. I’ll put you through.”
Crissy was surprised but pleased. She had expected the woman to take a message at best. Why was she suddenly being nice to her? she wondered.
“Hello,” Luca said.
“Hello,” Crissy said, her heart leaping at the sound of his voice. “I hate to bother you at work, but I have a good reason to call.” Then she told him what had happened and why she was calling.
Luca was extremely disturbed. “But you’re okay?” he asked, alarmed by her news.