“I just wanted to be alone for a bit,” Rowan explained, her voice sounding aloof and detached. “I was upset but not really upset.”
“I know that.” Quinn barely managed to maintain an air of calm as he stroked the back of her head. She was shaking, although he was fairly certain she didn’t realize it. “You need to tell me what’s wrong because I’m starting to imagine some really terrible things.”
“I came here because I knew it would be empty.”
“That’s okay.”
“I was walking around … thinking and talking to myself.”
“That’s okay, too.”
“Then I saw something I didn’t see the first time we were in here,” Rowan volunteered. “I thought it was a movie prop. It wasn’t, though. I accidentally touched it before I looked too closely. I’m sorry. My fingerprints are going to be on her cheek.”
Quinn pulled back his head so he could stare into Rowan’s eyes, not sure he heard her correctly. “Whose cheek?”
“She’s over there.” Rowan extended a quaking finger in the direction of the table. “She’s dead.”
“Callisto?”
Rowan shook her head. “It’s someone else.”
“Okay.” Quinn didn’t want to force Rowan to look at the body a second time, but he had no inclination to leave her while he did it himself. “Come with me.” He put his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close as he navigated around one of the glass display cases. “Don’t look.”
Quinn pressed Rowan’s face into his shoulder as he stared at the obviously dead body, his stomach twisting as he grimly stared at the blood and sightless eyes. “Andrew, we need to contact the doctor so he can get on this.”
“I don’t think we need a cause of death,” Andrew noted as he stared at the throat wound. “Is this the missing woman?”
“No. This is someone else.” Quinn continued to soothe Rowan with light strokes on the back of her neck. “Do you know who that is, Ro?”
Rowan nodded, collecting her strength so her voice wouldn’t waver when she responded. “Elvira.”
“The woman competing with Callisto for best actress?”
“And Phil’s girlfriend.”
“Well, great,” Quinn muttered. “Every single time I think this can’t get worse I’m proven wrong. There’s no question about this one, though. She’s not missing. She’s dead.”
“That means Callisto is probably dead, too, right?”
Quinn knew she wanted to hear differently, but lying wasn’t an option. “Yeah. I’m back to thinking she’s probably dead.”
“I’m no expert, but if I had to guess I would say this woman has been dead for about four or five hours,” Andrew offered, peering closer at the body. “That’s right before the time we found Rebecca Madden in Callisto’s room.”
“And Rebecca didn’t have any blood on her,” Quinn added.
“Does that mean she’s innocent?” Rowan was hopeful.
“That means I have a hard time believing she sliced and diced Elvira without getting any forensic evidence on her and then broke into Callisto’s room to throw an after-party,” Quinn replied. “Other than that … I’m not sure what to believe.”
“You’re not the only one,” Rowan muttered, resting her cheek against his chest. “This officially isn’t fun any longer.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
17
Seventeen
“Where are you going?”
Quinn caught Rowan trying to sneak out of the gallery once the medical staff arrived to begin examining the body. She wasn’t keen to leave him without a word, but she didn’t want to watch the medical team do their business, so the only option was slinking out and apologizing later.
Apparently Quinn was a lot more observant than she initially envisioned.
“I’m going to the deck to take photos,” Rowan replied, attempting to muster a smile and failing miserably. “I have a job to do.”
“We both do, but I’m not keen on you wandering around by yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because … .” Quinn broke off, unsure how to answer.
Rowan refused to take pity on him despite his obvious discomfort. “Because I’m a girl?”
“Because you’re my girl.”
“Oh, so cute.” This time Rowan managed a smile as she pressed her finger into his cheek. “I don’t want to be here for this. I don’t feel as if it’s my … place.”
“You discovered her.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s mine to deal with,” Rowan pointed out. “I don’t want to see whatever they’re about to do. I don’t want to see her go in the bag. I saw that a lot when I was with the newspaper and I never thought much about it, but this place is different. I don’t have to see it now so I’m not going to sit around and watch.”
“Fair enough.” Quinn leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, not caring that Andrew stood behind him, glowering. Technically it was against the rules to fraternize on the clock – and Andrew was a real rule follower – but Quinn figured he was the boss and could do whatever he wanted. “Do me a favor and be careful. Don’t go anywhere by yourself.”
Rowan couldn’t tamp down her surprise. “You think someone is coming after me?”
“I think you make an enticing target because you seem to be in the thick of things,” Quinn replied. “The odds of someone going after you are slim but … I don’t care. I’ll sink this ship if something happens to you. Keep that in mind and don’t do anything stupid.”
“You’re definitely cute.” Rowan squeezed his hand. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“You definitely will.”
QUINN’S FIRST order of business was to interview Drusilla. He called her to the gallery despite the fact that she was still asleep when the call came through. The woman wasn’t opposed to raising a ruckus, and she started bellowing the moment she walked through the door.
“Exactly what are you doing in the middle of my display?” Drusilla, her hair tousled and snarled from sleep, had the previous day’s mascara smeared under her eyes. Quinn knew without a doubt that she was going to make things difficult. “If you’ve touched one thing … .”
“We’ve touched more than one thing and will continue to do so,” Quinn said, cutting her off before she could get a full head of steam. “This isn’t just your gallery showing now. This is a crime scene.”
“Oh, really?” Drusilla either didn’t know or care that Quinn was being serious. “I know art appreciation is subjective, but I hardly think it’s a crime against humanity or anything.”
“I was referring to the dead body,” Quinn said dryly, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as the medical team toiled over Elvira’s body. “That’s the crime scene.”
“Oh.” Drusilla knit her eyebrows and tilted her head so she could get a better look around Quinn’s broad shoulders. “Is that Elvira Storm?”
“I believe so.”
“What’s that on her throat?”
“That would be a stab wound.”
“Oh, you’re kidding.” Drusilla’s expression was hard to read. That’s why, when she opened her mouth, she took Quinn completely by surprise. “That is so very … freaking … cool.”
Quinn’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “Excuse me?”
Drusilla realized her reaction was inappropriate and adjusted her smile, but just barely. “I’m guessing from Elvira’s perspective … and possibly yours, too … it’s not cool. From mine, though, I’m going to be famous.”
“Because you killed her?”
Drusilla stilled, taking a moment to absorb what he said. “Me? You think I killed her?”
“She was murdered and put in a tableau in the middle of your display.”
“Yeah, I guess that does make me look like a suspect, but I swear I didn’t kill her. If you’re open to listening to requests, though, I don’t suppose you could leave the body there for the show tonight, could you? That will bring a lot of people in and the w
ord of mouth will be fierce.”
Quinn didn’t believe in hitting women, but he totally wanted to belt Drusilla just so she would shut her mouth. Instead he pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and sucked in a calming breath before speaking. “No. I don’t believe we’ll leave the body here for the show.”
“How about the blood?”
“How about you focus on me?” Quinn challenged, his temper flaring. “This is a serious situation. You might not understand that, but it is.”
“Okay. Chill out, dude.” Drusilla lifted her hands in mock surrender. “There’s no reason to go all cop crazy or anything. I didn’t kill her.”
“Yes, well, someone did,” Quinn seethed. “I need to know where you were last night.”
“When?”
“We don’t have a time of death quite yet, so I’ll need your itinerary for the entire evening.”
“That sounds a bit big brotherish, but I don’t have anything to hide so … whatever.” Drusilla made a wry expression. “I started out the night here. I stayed for the entire show, answering questions and taking people on tours, stuff like that.”
“And there was no body in the display, right?”
“I think I would’ve noticed that.”
Quinn wasn’t so sure, but he let it go. “What time did you leave the gallery? Oh, and keep in mind, we will be checking your story on the security footage.”
“I left at about ten or so,” Drusilla gritted out, her patience fraying. “If you have video, how come you’re questioning me at all? Won’t the culprit be on the film?”
“You changed the lighting,” Quinn reminded her. “The cameras were on, but the lighting level was so low our people are having trouble making anything out. They’re going through the footage, but we’re not sure we’ll be able to make anything of it.”
“Okay, well, that’s a bummer.” Drusilla scratched her chin. “So … wait, the cameras work in the hallway but not here?”
“Precisely.”
“Why not just see who entered and exited around the time of death and go from there?”
“Thank you so much for telling me how to do my job,” Quinn drawled. “We’re on that. I still want to know what you did with your evening. You said you were here until about ten. Where did you go after that?”
“Up to the tiki bar,” Drusilla replied, her eyes flashing. She wasn’t fond of Quinn’s tone, but she couldn’t argue with the fact that he looked hot while questioning her. “I had chicken wings and fries with a few friends while they drank and then I joined them. We stayed under that roof thing after the storm hit and then eventually went back to our rooms.”
“What time was that?”
“After midnight but before one. I can’t be sure.”
Quinn shifted from one foot to the other, running the potential timeline through his head. The timing didn’t free Drusilla from suspicion, but if the cameras showed her entering her room before one and not leaving, she would officially be crossed off the suspect list.
“Okay,” Quinn said after a beat. “We’ll be checking your alibi, but for now you’re free to go.”
“Oh, really, Dad?” Drusilla rolled her eyes in extravagant fashion. “Thank you so much for your permission.”
Quinn refused to rise to the bait. “You’re welcome.”
ROWAN DRAGGED her laptop to the tiki bar during her lunch hour, taking refuge in the shade as she loaded photos. Despite her interrupted sleep pattern and scattered morning, her brain was firing on all thrusters and she realized she’d missed a big piece of the puzzle. She was about to fix that when Sally popped up out of nowhere and joined her.
“Hey there, girlfriend.” Sally’s smile was often contagious, but this morning Rowan had to force her expression to match the effervescent woman’s in an effort not to offend her. “I’ve barely seen you for the past few days. Have you been hiding from me?”
“Of course not,” Rowan answered hurriedly, guilt rolling through her. “It’s just been a busy few days. I’m sorry if you feel that I’ve been neglecting you.”
Sally snorted, legitimately amused. “I was just messing with you. I know how things are when you’re in a new relationship. You two are probably naked more than you’re clothed. It’s fine.”
“Right.” Rowan lowered her eyes to her computer screen so she could sort through the previous day’s photographs. She was looking for something that featured Elvira so she could see if she accidentally missed an omen appearance. If she had, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forgive herself. “That’s us … naked all of the time.”
Sally often came off as a bubbly airhead, but she was unnaturally shrewd at times. The look she graced Rowan with now was full of disbelief. “You still haven’t done it, have you? Demarcus told me the pool remained open and I didn’t believe him. Seriously, what is wrong with you two? Do I need to steal all your clothes and lock you in a room together?”
Rowan couldn’t stop herself from laughing at Sally’s downtrodden expression. “I’m sorry to disappoint you. We’ve been busy.”
“But you guys sleep in the same bed every night,” Sally whined. “Why else do you have those big rooms – and I’m still bitter about you snagging one of the few good ones, by the way – if not to get frisky?”
“I’m not talking to you about this.” Rowan didn’t consider herself a prude by nature, but she felt extremely uncomfortable. “It’s none of your business.”
“Oh, I know that.” Sally wasn’t offended in the least. “I’m going to make it my business, though, because you clearly need help.”
“Really?” Rowan deliberately stared at her computer screen, flipping rapidly through photos as she searched for Elvira’s face. “How are you going to help me?”
“Well, I thought for starters you could take your clothes off.”
“Uh-huh. Wait … what?” Rowan snapped up her head. “You want me to get naked with you?”
“No, I want to see you while you’re naked,” Sally clarified. “Don’t worry, it’s not a sex thing. Well, it’s not a sex thing for me. You’re clearly embarrassed about something, though, and I want to make sure it’s not all in your head. If you have a problem spot, I’m sure we can find some cute lingerie to hide it.”
“Oh, geez.” Rowan slapped her hand to her forehead. “I don’t have a problem spot.”
“You definitely have a problem, though.”
“I don’t have a problem. I’m not upset. We’re fine.”
Sally wasn’t convinced. “Honey, you’re a sweet girl and I like you a great deal. You’re going to miss out on the fun stuff if you’re not careful, though. You don’t want to miss out on the fun stuff. I’m going to place a wager that Quinn has the funnest stuff on the ship.”
“And I won’t take you up on that bet because I think you’re probably right.” Rowan forced her eyes back to the screen, stopping her scrolling when she finally found a snapshot that included Elvira. She scanned the photo for the omen and came up empty, disappointment rolling through her. She didn’t want to feel guilty, or miss something, but it would’ve been an explanation. As of now she had nothing.
“Are you even listening to me?” Sally’s tone was petulant.
“I am,” Rowan confirmed, forcing a smile that didn’t make it all the way to her eyes. “Sally, you don’t need to worry about me. You don’t need to worry about Quinn either. We’re fine. It will happen when it happens … and it’s not going to happen now until the horror movie folks leave the ship.”
“Because of the body?”
“Pretty much.”
“I figured that.” Sally let loose with a gusty sigh. “Do you think you can wait three days and do it then? That’s when I come up in the pool again and it’s grown to more than two thousand dollars. I really want that money.”
Rowan narrowed her eyes. “You weren’t even asking for my benefit, were you?”
“Don’t look at it that way. I was asking for both of our benefits. I want us both
to win.”
“Oh, whatever.”
QUINN WAS DREADING his next stop, and when he took a moment to collect himself outside of Phil’s cabin he had to gather his courage before knocking. This was his least favorite part of the job. Thankfully death notifications didn’t come up very often on a cruise ship.
It took Phil a few minutes to answer, and when he did, Quinn found himself staring at a disheveled and shirtless man who smelled like stale tequila. He also looked to have something akin to a strawberry stuck in his hair.
“I’m sorry to bother you so early in the … afternoon,” Quinn offered, glancing at the wall clock. “I thought you would be up long before now.”
“I had a late night.” Phil was grim as he rubbed his forehead and shuffled back inside his room, rooting around the small refrigerator for a bottle of water. “I didn’t do something to piss you off, did I?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because one of the last things I remember is seeing you and your girlfriend on the deck,” Phil replied. “If I said something sexual … or grabbed her or something … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sure my hand slipped … to wherever you think it slipped.”
“Something tells me that’s not true, but that’s not why I’m here,” Quinn said. “In fact, I’m here for another matter … and it’s rather serious.”
“Okay. Lay it on me. Now is a great time because I have a hangover and it will hurt too much to yell.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that sort of a conversation,” Quinn supplied, exhaling heavily. “So, um, I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but we discovered Elvira Storm dead in the gallery this morning. I understand you were involved so … I’m sorry for your loss.”
Phil’s expression barely changed. Quinn wasn’t sure if he was in shock or whether or not he’d even comprehended the words.
“Do you understand what I said?”
“I do.” Phil shifted his eyes to the open doorway behind Quinn. “Is this part of some reality television show bit? If so, I have to say, it’s more pathetic than scary.”
Stormy Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 3) Page 16