Killer Knots

by Nancy J. Cohen

  Kate and John had met up with them in the buffet line, foregoing a formal luncheon in the dining room. Brie started telling them about her afternoon schedule.

  “What did you say comes after the water balloon toss and gladiator challenge at the pool?” Marla asked. Oh yum, those roasted sweet potatoes with a palm sugar glaze just melted in her mouth. The dish didn’t necessarily go with the Thai chicken, coconut rice, and stir-fried vegetables she’d chosen, but who cared? Beside her, Vail stuffed his mouth full of carved turkey with cranberry sauce, pecan carrots, Lyonnaise potatoes, and red wine-braised beef, while Kate and John stuck to salads.

  “After the pool, we’re having ice cream and seeing a movie.” Lowering her saucy eyes, Brianna bit into her slice of pepperoni pizza. She’d already tasted the Hawaiian and Margarita pizzas.

  “Don’t eat too many sweets between now and dinner,” her grandmother advised from across the table. “Tonight is formal night. You’ll need enough time in the cabin to get dressed.”

  “Like, I know that already.”

  “Will you be going to the show with us tonight?”

  “I’ll see, Grandma. I may want to hang out with my new friends instead.”

  “Brianna,” Marla said hastily to ward off trouble, “there’s no reason for you to be snippy. Your grandmother means well.”

  “Sorry.” Her sullen face said otherwise.

  “Have you seen the Pirate’s Grotto?” Marla asked brightly. “The entrance is on deck four, outside the casino. We popped in there last night. It has rock like walls, so you feel like you’re in a cave; strobe lighting; and disco music. The noise chased us away.”

  “I believe you have to be eighteen to get in,” Kate cut in before Brianna could reply. According to the ship’s rules, eighteen-year-olds could drink beer and wine with their parents’ signed waiver but not hard liquor.

  “Tomorrow night, we have a dance party in the Grotto,” Brianna said, with a superior smirk. “Grown-ups won’t be allowed inside.” After shoving her chair away, she jumped up. “May I be excused? I’m done eating. See ya.”

  “Wait,” Vail called. “It’s not polite to leave before everyone’s finished.”

  Brianna paused, her ponytail swinging. “Stop treating me like a baby, Dad. It’s time you realized that I can be on my own. Gosh, you guys are so embarrassing! I can’t stand being near you.” With a flounce, she loped away.

  “You’ll have your hands full as her stepmother,” Kate said to Marla, with a sympathetic smile. “Are you prepared to deal with teenage behavior? She’s bound to get rowdier as she gets older.” Lines of concern etched the older woman’s forehead.

  “I think she’s just spreading her wings while we’re on the ship. We have to give her some freedom so she can learn how to deal with different situations. It’s good that she’s made friends already.”

  “That’s true.” Kate put down her fork. “You know, it’s not the best example for her that you two are sharing a cabin and aren’t married. When are you going to set a date? I’m happy to help with the wedding plans.”

  Vail gave Marla a quizzical glance, clearly landing the ball in her field. “Uh, we’re not quite sure yet,” she hedged.

  Kate tapped a finger on her chin. “Will you have a priest and a rabbi officiate together? I suppose you’ll have the ceremony at a hotel where you can do the reception. A sit-down dinner works so much better than a buffet, don’t you think? And it’s okay to get chicken to keep costs down, although you’ll still pay more than sixty dollars a head. We’ll help out by paying for our guests, won’t we, John?”

  “Huh?” Staring into space, he refocused his attention. “Oh, yeah, whatever. Just make sure to let us know ahead of time so I don’t make other plans.” He gave his wife a challenging glare, making Marla wonder if those plans included Kate.

  Another thought troubled her. Could Brianna’s defiant behavior be a reflection of turmoil between her grandparents?

  CHAPTER 5

  Sunday afternoon, Marla joined the bridge tour, where she ran into Martha Shore, the lady who ran the gift shop at the art museum. Martha hovered in the rear ranks of visitors while a uniformed officer described the controls spanning the ship’s command center.

  “Hi there,” Marla said to the other woman, with a friendly grin. “This is amazing, isn’t it? We could be on the bridge of a spaceship with so many flashing dials. Look at this safety console. Do you think one officer mans all six stations at the same time?”

  She noted buttons for fire and watertight doors, the public-address system, machinery controls, deck lighting, and a fire alarm. Oh, and another for ceiling panel surveillance cameras. Hmm. Where were those located? Probably in the casino.

  “Quiet, I’m listening to the talk.” Martha adjusted the turquoise top that matched her floral capri pants.

  Well, excuse me for being nice. Switching her attention to the officer, she wondered if Martha was actually enthralled by his technobabble or admiring his wavy blond hair, ocean blue eyes, and lanky build. No wonder women fell for men in uniform.

  “Our multipilot displays can be changed between radar, chart, and control functions,” he said, beaming with pride.

  “What’s this?” a fellow in shorts bellowed, pointing to a unit off to the side.

  “That’s one of our wing consoles. It has joystick controls to maneuver the ship in harbor. We keep tabs on the underwater equipment over here,” he said, drawing the passengers’ attention to the cockpit. “This ship has two main propellers, stern and bow thrusters, fin stabilizers, and rudders.”

  At the navigational chart table, Marla leaned over, careful not to touch anything. “So are you having a good time?” she asked Martha, hoping to coax her into a conversation. “This must be like a busman’s holiday to you with all your colleagues here.”

  Martha glowered at her, turning her neck at an angle so that Marla could see a couple of whiskers under her chin. The lady needed a wax treatment for facial hair. “I can’t imagine who sent us the cruise tickets or why certain people were included,” Martha said in her low contralto voice. “Kent Harwood isn’t a regular employee, although he did his mold inspection that day. And Helen hung around even though the museum was closed to the public. What was she doing there, instructing the other docents? I don’t recall anyone recruiting her to help with the party.”

  “What day was this?”

  “Why, the day of Alden’s accident.” Martha’s eyes grew round. “That’s what the cops are calling it, but I’m not convinced.”

  “Follow me,” the officer droned. “This is where our watch officers sit. You’ll notice the captain’s chair centered behind their two stations. Make your way forward between the steering stand and radio console, folks.”

  Seeing that Martha was about to join them, Marla stuck out a restraining hand. “You don’t think Alden’s fall was a tragic mistake? Everyone else seems to believe so.”

  “How convenient for them.” Martha looked her squarely in the eyes. “Every one of the people from the museum on board this ship was present the day Alden died. Isn’t it peculiar that we’re gathered here at the same time as his completed triptych is for sale? Where was the missing middle piece all this time? If you ask me, I smell a rat.”

  Marla shifted her handbag. “What do you mean?”

  The other woman’s eyes lit, as though she were glad to confide in someone. “Well, I was in the gift shop doing inventory, and I heard music playing even though the sound system was turned off. I’m no musician, but it sounded like a flute. After a short refrain, I heard Alden cry out, and then the music stopped. It was horrible.”

  Martha scraped a trembling hand through her hair, hair that was too limp by Marla’s standards. Besides a facial wax, she could add a decent cut and conditioning to her treatment list.

  “Did anyone witness the artist’s fall?” Marla asked.

  “No one admitted seeing anything, plus I’m the only one who heard music playing. Most of the others
were outside on the patio, setting up for the event.”

  “What did the cops determine?”

  Martha twisted her chandelier earring. “They found a couple of screws loose on the balcony railing. Although it wasn’t his responsibility, the curator got blamed for sloppy maintenance, plus he was at fault for letting someone snatch Alden’s painting. That’s really the reason why he got fired. Now he’s on board with us as art auctioneer.”

  Truly weird. And what about the note left on her cabin door at their arrival? Suspecting it was meant for her companion, Marla sought a diplomatic way to introduce the topic. I know what you did and I have what you want. What could Martha have done that she’d kept hidden from the others?

  And what did it mean that everyone on board the Tropical Sun from the museum was present the day Alden Tusk died? Could the benefactor who had supplied their cruise tickets have donated them, not out of generosity, but for some nefarious purpose? Just how far-reaching was this wealthy person’s influence that he could manipulate Eric Rand as well? It crossed her mind that one of her dinner companions might even be that donor, watching all of them, waiting for…what?

  Swept to the wing console with a crowd of fellow passengers, she lost her chance to continue their discussion. Nor did she get the opportunity at dinner. Interrupted by the wine steward, ship’s photographer, and singing waiters, she barely concluded her meal before the next seating arrived. Martha Shore had already left her table by the time Marla sought her. Maybe they’d run into each other in San Juan the next day.

  Early the following morning, Marla lounged by the pool and then browsed in the ship’s gift shops along with Kate and Brianna to check out jewelry prices. As a concession to her betrothed, she’d agreed to go along on the El Yunque Rain Forest tour, but they’d still have a short time left in town afterward for shopping. Kate had picked up extra copies of maps with stores recommended by the cruise line.

  After lunch, Marla lined the railing with the others in her party to observe the approach into port. A strong wind tossed her hair into her face as she watched the mountainous island emerge from the blue ocean canvas. Strips of sandy beach outlining the land grew larger as they neared at a slower pace, the ship gently rolling side to side.

  At the tip of the island stood a massive stone fort, its flags rippling in the breeze. City buildings loomed tall as they sailed farther into the harbor, where the seawall gave way to parking lots and palms. Snapping photos, she jostled with other passengers for the best view.

  Thirty minutes later, Marla handed her ID card to a security officer, who swiped it through a machine and handed it back. Upon exiting the ship, she halted with her group to pose for the ever-present photographers in front of a San Juan sign. Having viewed the outrageous prices for photographs in the gallery earlier, she doubted she’d be adding this one to her collection. Between the drinks, photos, shore excursions, and duty-free shops on the ship, their all-inclusive vacation could end up costing hundreds of dollars more. And she didn’t even waste money on bingo or the slots!

  Passing through the terminal outside to a covered walkway, she searched for their tour group leader. Taxis and buses waited just past the security gate. Beyond was a government building, Departamento de Hacienda, while another crumbling fort jutted on a distant hill. Flagstone sidewalks invited exploration, as did quaint structures with wrought-iron balconies and flowering plants. A maze of streets generally led upward from the pier. Marla’s mouth watered at the sight of a Starbucks and a place called Mojito’s Restaurant.

  “Over there,” Dalton said, pointing toward a tour host holding up a sign.

  Marla trailed her fiancé toward the bus that would transport them to the rain forest. Unaccustomed to traffic noise after the tranquility of the sea, she winced at the brutal sounds of horns honking, engines idling, and motorcyles roaring along the busy street in front of the terminal.

  A man stuck a coupon for Senor Frog’s in her hand, while another guy yelled, “I give you a private tour, lady. Only ten dollar per person to take you around island.”

  “Let’s go,” Marla said to Brianna, urging her inside the bus. She didn’t like the way the man looked at the girl.

  Sitting next to Brianna, while Vail kept his mother company and John sat behind them, she relaxed in her seat as the bus entered traffic. “Look at the mountains in the distance,” she said to Brianna.

  “Awesome, they have McDonald’s here,” Brianna pointed out as the bus rumbled down the street, starting and stopping in the congestion.

  “Look, there’s Martha Shore,” called Kate, gesturing. Sure enough, Martha ambled along the sidewalk with Brooklyn Jones. Engaged in a heated discussion, they nearly got run down by a charging taxi.

  Craning her neck, Marla realized she and Vail were the only ones from their dinner table on this particular shore excursion. She’d seen the Smernoffs and Wolfsons get on the bus for the Bacardi Rum Distillery tour and almost regretted her choice until she reminded herself of her purpose: to spend quality time with family. Reaching out her hand, she squeezed Brianna’s palm. It felt gratifying to share responsibility for the girl and to enjoy new experiences together.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she heard John’s curt tone.

  “You know your skin is sensitive,” Kate chided, twisting in her seat to regard him. “You should have let me put sunscreen on the back of your neck.”

  “We’re going into the rain forest. The canopy will provide enough shade.”

  “I hope you’re right. And why did you insist on bringing that heavy bag? We’re going to be hiking on some rocky trails.”

  “It’s my stuff. I’ll deal with it.” He compressed his lips. “See what I have to put up with?” he said to his son.

  Marla felt a surge of sympathy for Kate. “Your wife is just concerned about you.”

  “I’d worry more about getting wet,” Vail commented in a wry tone. “It’s called the rain forest for a reason.” The bus had started to climb from a residential district with pastel houses and overhead power lines into the green-covered hills, and a light mist curtained the outside air. None of them had thought to toss an umbrella into their totes.

  Marla marveled at the lush foliage as the bus engine strained. She had to admit that the route through the city had given her a glimpse of Puerto Rico she wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Florida being so flat, she rarely had the opportunity to go uphill and view scenic vistas like those revealed on the mountain road. By the time they reached the ranger station, the sun had broken through the clouds and turned the moisture into sprays of diamond-like dew.

  Vail bounded ahead on the dirt path beside a running stream toward a waterfall cascading over a rock face. The guide stopped to point out pink wildflowers, ferns, and other plant life indigenous to the region. Vail and Brianna quizzed each other on the trees while Kate slung her arm through Marla’s.

  “Dalton always liked taking walks in the park,” the redhead said, presenting Marla with a dazzling smile. “When he was growing up, we took him every Sunday to a conservation area near home with wooded trails. John carried a big stick, in case we came across any snakes, but I think it was more for show.”

  “So Dalton got his enjoyment of nature from you?”

  “More likely from John. He’s the adventurous one. Even now, when he should be enjoying what we have at home, he wants to go off on some half-assed jaunts to nowhere.”

  “How long has he been retired?”

  “Six months. He’s been working on his stained-glass projects. At least that keeps him busy.”

  Marla glanced at her future mother-in-law. “Do you work outside the home?”

  “Honey, I put twenty-five years into teaching. Now I’m happy to volunteer at our church, keep up with my bridge games, and refurbish our house.”

  Marla paused to admire a cluster of wild orchids. Water gushed in the background from the waterfall, while the earthy scent of vegetation weighed the air. She couldn’t hear what the guide up ahea
d was saying, but Dalton could fill her in. She was more interested in getting to know her future family.

  “Do you get to Florida often?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Brianna had gone to visit her grandparents in Maine over Thanksgiving because she hadn’t seen them for months.

  “I don’t like to travel that much,” Kate admitted, her forehead folding into a frown. “That’s why I was so upset when John suggested we get a Winnebago to tour the country. All of a sudden he has time on his hands, and he wants to be a nomad. He can go on his own as far as I’m concerned.”

  Marla heard Kate’s resentful tone and again wondered about any underlying issues between the pair. “You came on this cruise with us,” she pointed out.

  “That’s different. We wanted to be with you. We’re even thinking of buying a place in Florida so we can come down during the winters. John’s been talking to a real estate agent.”

  Kate halted beneath an overhang of a tree with broad green leaves. “You know, if you get married in December, I could come down early to help out. Unless you want to use the chapel on this cruise ship.” She grinned broadly.

  Marla took a step backward. “That wouldn’t be fair to my mother. She’d want to be at our wedding. It doesn’t have to be any big deal. Dalton and I have been through this before.”

  Kate’s face softened. “Anyone can see how taken you are with each other. You keep looking at him and vice versa. I’m so thrilled for you both. You’re a delightful young woman, and I know you’ll make him and Brie so happy.”

  “Thanks.” Her cheeks warmed. “I find I’m liking this mothering thing. I can never replace Pam, but I’ll do my best to love her child and look after her husband.”

  The older woman chuckled. “As if Dalton would let anyone look after him. He can be stubborn, but he says the same thing about you. You’re a perfect match, even if you do butt heads on occasion. I suspect he finds that stimulating.”