Final Sail dejm-11

by Elaine Viets

  Helen must have dozed off sometime after four in the morning. When she checked her alarm clock again, it was four thirty-two. She’d have to get up in less than an hour. The clock’s digital numbers gave the room a faint green glow. She couldn’t escape emeralds even in her bunk.

  Her restless dreams were lit by the dull green glint of fake emeralds and the green fire of Max’s ring. The smuggler’s pinkie ring was real. She’d seen that same green sparkle since the dinner with Max.

  Beth? The boat owner had worn a savage emerald necklace and her poodle had an extravagant emerald collar and leash. Pepper wore an emerald-and-diamond choker with her film-goddess dress. All those stones had had that authentic blaze, like spring leaves igniting.

  But those emeralds didn’t nag at Helen. There were other jewels. She could see them in her mind. They were just as sparkling, but the gowns weren’t as glamorous.

  Gowns! That was it!

  The rubbishy gowns that Mira brought on board, covered with jewels. Helen had thought they were fake. Now she wasn’t sure. Mira had stowed them in the smuggler’s hiding spot, the bosun’s locker.

  Helen leaped out of bed, threw on her uniform, grabbed the emergency flashlight and slipped it in her pocket. She tiptoed out of her cabin. In the passage she heard a symphony of snores: The crew was still asleep. Helen climbed the ladder to the bosun’s locker and turned the hatch wheel.

  She was in. It was still dark outside and the space was a metal cave. She shone the flashlight around the locker, picking out shammy mops, yacht brushes and buffing tools. Mira’s waterproof duffel melted into the shadows behind the plastic buckets.

  Helen dragged the bag out, plopped it down on a gray plastic storage bin and unzipped it. Out tumbled grimy satin, worn velvet and tired chiffon studded with glass rubies, plastic sapphires and cheap rhinestones. Except—what was that?

  The belt on a sea green gown flashed in the light. This was different from the dull glitter on Suzanne’s green T-shirt. Emerald-cut stones blazed like green bonfires. Each stone was nearly an inch long. There were twenty.

  Helen had found the emeralds.

  Mira was smuggling jewels. Helen pieced together their conversations and indicted the head stew in her mind:

  Mira said she was investing in her boyfriend’s theater company. Helen knew Mira wasn’t using her savings as a stew. Those wouldn’t finance a high school play. Mira wanted to be a real angel and shower the theater with the proceeds from smuggled emeralds.

  Mira said she and her boyfriend were flying to New York the day the Earl docked in Lauderdale. So Kevin could try out for a New York production? Maybe. To sell smuggled stones? Helen thought that might be the real reason. Max said smugglers took the stones to brokers in Miami or Manhattan. The stew was smart to choose New York. That put more than a thousand miles between Mira and her fence.

  Helen started shoving the dresses back in the duffel, then stopped. She remembered Mira folding the dresses neatly in the crew mess. Helen pulled them back out and forced herself to slow down and carefully pack the bulky dresses. She put the gown with the emerald belt on the bottom.

  Helen saw only one reason for Mira’s silence about the missing Louise: She knew Mira was the smuggler. That emerald belt and the tackle box full of cut stones would give Mira at least a million dollars. Once she had the money, Helen bet, she’d never come back to the yacht.

  Louise’s death would be one more mystery at sea.

  Helen wanted to shout in triumph. She’d found the smuggler. Once she told the captain, she was free. Wait till Phil found out. She wouldn’t even mind his “I told you so” brag. She was an equal partner in Coronado Investigations.

  She zipped the duffel closed and dropped it back behind the buckets. She didn’t need the flashlight now. Daylight poured into the bosun’s locker. The sky was a glorious pink, like the inside of a conch shell.

  As she climbed back down the ladder, Helen heard the crew preparing for the day—showers, soft conversations, doors sliding shut. She was relieved she’d reached her cabin without seeing anyone.

  She checked the clock. Helen had twenty minutes to dress. She could see the captain if she skipped breakfast. She was so amped on adrenaline she didn’t need coffee. She washed, brushed her hair, then ran upstairs.

  Captain Josiah Swingle and Carl the wallet smuggler were on the bridge. Now the lanky first mate with the no-color hair didn’t look shrewd to Helen. She thought he seemed shifty.

  Josiah was annoyingly alert early in the morning. Helen wondered what made some people natural commanders. Josiah wasn’t the tallest man on the yacht—Carl topped him by several inches. He wasn’t the strongest. Young Sam would win that title.

  But he had enough authority to put them all in their place.

  Helen burst through the door and said, “Captain, I need to talk to you about my contract.” That was their prearranged signal that Helen had found something.

  “Would you excuse us, Carl?” the captain said.

  The first mate nodded and stepped outside on the deck.

  Josiah checked to make sure Carl wasn’t listening at the door, then said, “You found the smuggler?”

  “Two smugglers,” Helen said. “And I have bad news about Louise.”

  “Start with the emerald smuggler,” Josiah said.

  “It’s Mira,” Helen said. “She’s got twenty big stones on board hidden in a duffel bag in the bosun’s locker.”

  Helen watched the captain’s face. Josiah showed no surprise. He showed no emotion at all.

  “Mira,” he repeated.

  “She was one of your three suspects,” Helen said.

  “Right,” the captain said.

  “I think she’s smuggling to help her boyfriend’s theater company.”

  “I don’t care why she’s doing it,” Josiah said. At last, his anger ignited. “If the Coast Guard finds those emeralds, my reputation is ruined and my boat is padlocked to the dock. It will take years to sort out the mess. I’m confiscating those emeralds and turning her in.”

  “You could do that, Captain,” Helen said. “But if I may make a suggestion, Mira is planning to fly to New York at three o’clock, after we dock at the marina. How many times have you been boarded by the Coast Guard?”

  “None,” he said.

  “Then why not risk one more trip and let her leave the yacht with the emeralds? When we get back to Lauderdale, Phil will make an anonymous tip and her suitcase will be searched before she boards the plane to New York. That way the Earl won’t be directly involved in her takedown.”

  “I like that,” Josiah said. He smiled and Helen almost felt sorry for Mira.

  “Now, tell me about Louise,” he said.

  “I’m afraid she’s dead,” Helen said. “I found this—a thousand dollars’ cash—hidden in the toilet paper holder in our cabin.” She handed the tightly folded bills to the captain.

  “I also found her seizure medicine in a tampon box in the medicine cabinet. I left it there.”

  “Why do you think she’s dead?” Josiah asked.

  “Louise left her medicine behind,” Helen said.

  “She could have enough pills in her purse to get home,” Josiah said.

  “She didn’t take her thousand dollars,” Helen said. “She couldn’t have paid for her passage back in cash, like Mira said.”

  “Helen, there are other ways a pretty young woman can pay for her passage,” Josiah said.

  Now Helen felt naive and foolish. “You know Louise, Captain. Do you really think she’d get on a boat full of men she didn’t know and hook her way back to Miami?”

  “No,” Josiah said. “But maybe they weren’t strangers. Crews party together when they’re in port. Louise or her boyfriend could know the charter captain or a crew member. She could have agreed to pay them when she got back to Florida. She could have come back for this money—or asked one of our crew to get it for her.”

  Helen wasn’t convinced. “I still think Mira is a liar as we
ll as a smuggler,” she said.

  “Why would Mira lie?” Josiah said.

  “Because Louise discovered she was smuggling emeralds,” Helen said. “Mira threw the second stew overboard in those high waves. Louise is dead and Mira killed her.”

  “Mira isn’t violent,” Josiah said. “I know that.”

  “Really? You didn’t know she was a smuggler,” Helen said.

  Josiah didn’t react. Helen wondered if he was angry.

  “If Louise suspected the head stew was smuggling, she would have come to me,” he said.

  “Would she?” Helen said. “Louise is what—twenty-one?”

  “Twenty-three,” Josiah said.

  “You think a twenty-three-year-old toilet scrubber would have the nerve to approach you and accuse her superior of smuggling?” Helen asked. “I’m eighteen years older than Louise, and I’d think twice about accusing Mira, except I’ve seen the proof.”

  “Proof, Helen,” Josiah said. “That’s what you’re missing. You have no proof Mira killed Louise. We don’t even know that Louise is dead. She could be drinking in a bar with her boyfriend right now.”

  “If she is, I’ll take it all back,” Helen said. “But I’m worried about her. I know she isn’t your problem anymore. The Bahamian official said so.”

  “No, she is,” Josiah said. “My ship, my crew, my responsibility. I need to know she’s safely back in the States. I’ll check with the Bahamian authorities and see if they’ve located the Aces High. I promise I’ll tell you, one way or the other.”

  “A deal,” Helen said.

  He was the captain. On this ship his word was law. But Helen knew Louise was dead.

  CHAPTER 31

  Silence followed the captain’s promise to find Louise. The waves playfully slapped the yacht’s side and the showy tropical pink sky mocked Helen’s fears.

  It seemed impossible that this postcard-pretty sea had been a crazed killer a few nights ago, raising up waterspouts and six-foot waves.

  But Helen knew better. The storm had been so rough she couldn’t walk the short secret passage without being thrown against a wall. Even an experienced stew like Louise couldn’t carry a tray without nearly dropping a glass.

  Louise was small and wiry. Mira was a sturdy woman. Helen thought she was stronger and more muscular than the second stew.

  How had she killed Louise? Knocked her out, then dragged her out on deck and thrown her overboard? Lured her out on deck by asking for help with an unsecured hatch? Told her a piece of deck furniture had come loose from its lashings and she couldn’t reach the boys to put it back?

  Any of those excuses would work. And Mira could quickly wipe up the seawater after she opened a door.

  Helen hoped Mira had knocked Louise unconscious first. It would be unbelievably cruel to throw her overboard alive. No one would hear Louise’s shouts for help on board the ship. She would see life—and hope—sailing away.

  Helen was grateful the captain interrupted her thoughts with another question. “You said there was another emerald smuggler?” Josiah asked.

  “There’s another smuggler, but he’s not bringing in emeralds,” Helen said. “Carl is smuggling wallets.”

  “Wallets. What’s in them?”

  “Nothing,” Helen said. “These are designer wallets, cosmetic cases and small purses. The real deal. He has about twelve thousand dollars’ worth of smuggled merchandise in a black Prada backpack in his closet.”

  “Huh,” the captain said.

  “Are you going to fire him when you see the wallets?” Helen asked.

  “He’s a good first mate. I’d like to keep him. I will confiscate those wallets.”

  “Could you wait a bit first?” Helen said. “Otherwise, he’ll know I saw you early this morning and ratted him out.”

  She didn’t want to disappear over the side like Louise.

  “I’ll wait till we’re back at the marina,” Josiah said.

  “And then you’ll drop the smuggled wallets over the side?” Helen asked.

  “We don’t pollute,” Josiah said. “But I could give them to charity.”

  “One more thing,” Helen said. “I know why Mitzi attacked the engineer. I think Andrei kicked her when he came back here drunk.”

  “You think? You didn’t see him?”

  “No, I was upstairs. But I heard the dog yelp.”

  “I wish you had seen him,” Josiah said. “I can’t fire him for something you thought you saw.” Josiah looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s six fifteen. We need to go back to work. Good job, Helen.”

  Interesting, Helen thought, as she ran back to the crew mess. The captain was willing to overlook the first mate’s wallet smuggling, but talked about how he couldn’t fire the engineer unless I saw him kick the dog. I bet he’d like to get rid of Andrei. Maybe now he’ll see a way to do that.

  “You’re fifteen minutes late!” Mira greeted Helen as she opened the crew door. Helen heard both washing machines churning.

  “I had to see the captain about my contract,” Helen said. “I wanted to talk to him before his day started.”

  She studied Mira’s face, but the head stew seemed to accept her explanation.

  “Suzanne made breakfast burritos,” she said. “You can eat one now. I’ve started the laundry for you. I’m going upstairs to set up breakfast.”

  The morning light made her hair shine like dull gold, but Helen caught a glimpse of the healing wound on her scalp. Did Louise fight to leave the yacht—or fight for her life?

  It didn’t make any difference, Helen thought. The scab would disappear in a day or two. Even if it didn’t, the wound was proof of nothing. Mira would probably get away with murder.

  “I need you to finish the guests’ ironing today,” Mira said. “It’s our last day in port and we have to hustle. Remember, we’re shorthanded.”

  “I won’t forget that,” Helen said as she unfolded the ironing board.

  Ugh. Ironing. Her least favorite chore. This would be the last time she ironed anything, especially sheets and underwear. This morning, it didn’t matter that Helen had only a few hours’ sleep. She felt energized. She sang as she folded laundry and hummed while she ironed Ralph’s wretched briefs. She cheerfully cleaned staterooms and scrubbed guest heads. Her real work was done.

  Helen heard Beth breeze into the galley. “We’ll be at Atlantis all day, Suzanne,” she said. “Make something easy for dinner tonight. Grill steaks for the boys again. They never get tired of meat. The girls will like seafood. Maybe grilled lobster?”

  “How about warm lobster potato salad?” Suzanne asked.

  “Good. Caesar salads for the boys, maybe twice-baked potatoes for them, and we need a dessert.”

  “Key lime tarts?” Suzanne said.

  “Perfect,” Beth said. “That was easy. Where’s Helen? I want her to take Mitzi.”

  Helen ran up from the crew mess. Beth looked cool in white linen with a white and silver necklace. Mitzi looked like the perfect fluffy accessory, right down to her matching collar and silver-trimmed leash.

  The little dog yapped a greeting when Beth handed her over. “Pretty collar,” Helen said. “Is that white jade?”

  “No, white turquoise,” Beth said.

  Helen carried Mitzi downstairs to the crew mess, where she slept in a basket of dirty laundry. When Andrei showed up for lunch, Mitzi growled at him. Helen picked up Mitzi, held her and scratched her ears while Andrei shoveled in his lunch.

  “What’s wrong with that crazy dog?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Helen said. “Nothing at all.” Mitzi quit growling when the engineer left. Helen put the drop cloth in the laundry basket and the poodle snoozed on it while Helen worked all afternoon.

  When the owners and guests returned at sunset, Helen restored Mitzi to Beth, then served cocktails with a smile. All day long, she’d been counting the hours until she was home with Phil.

  Dinner was casual. No one changed into evening dress. Beth and
Pepper wore fresh makeup and cruise wear. Pepper’s diamond-and-emerald choker looked outrageously out of place with her slinky silk tank top, but she didn’t care and neither did Scotty.

  “She’s lit up like cheap neon,” Rosette whispered to her smirking spouse. Helen noticed Ralph’s narrow eyes were glued to Pepper’s curvy figure.

  When the Belted Earl sailed out of the Atlantis marina at nine that night, Helen and Mira were still serving the guests cocktails by starlight. Dinner didn’t start until after eleven. The guests watched the moonlight on the silky water until nearly two in the morning.

  Helen could hardly look at the satiny black sea, knowing it had swallowed poor Louise. She wasn’t queasy on the trip home, though her stomach churned a bit when the ship crossed the Gulf Stream.

  After the last poker hand folded at three thirty in the morning, Helen and Mira cleaned the sky lounge. At four, Helen finally fell into bed. She dragged herself out of her bunk ninety minutes later.

  A quick shower revived her. So did the knowledge that this was her last day. As a special treat, Suzanne made her fabulous coconut bread for both the crew and the owners.

  At breakfast on the upper aft deck, Beth looked dramatic in a red and gold silk caftan and a collar of rubies set in gold. Mitzi looked downright silly in a matching ruby collar and red bow. Rosette was drab as a sparrow in brown linen. Pepper nearly blinded the other guests when she wore her emerald-and-diamond choker with a green halter top and miniskirt. The sun danced off the diamonds and shot sparks around the table.

  “I can’t believe she’s wearing diamonds in daytime,” Rosette said, with a sneer. “She’s got on more jewelry than clothes.”

  Pepper turned to her. “What did you say?” she asked, her voice soft.

  “Nothing. I was talking to my husband.” Rosette seemed to shrivel in her chair.

  “I saw you laughing,” Pepper said. “Let’s all share in the joke.”

  “It wasn’t funny,” Rosette said. “I mentioned to Ralph that it’s unusual to wear diamonds in the daytime.”