Under the Moonlight collection

by MaryAnn Kempher

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  Katherine was in a daze, hardly aware of the hundreds of people watching. The cheers and clapping were just white noise. All she could do was concentrate on the man across the stage, and on not tripping. In a few minutes, it was over and she was walking back to her seat. With one hand she held her degree, and with the other she waved at her sister. She’d watched Scott get his degree just a few minutes earlier. They all went out to dinner to celebrate and, afterward, Katherine and Scott went to his apartment. They sat on the front steps holding hands.

  “I have some news,” said Katherine.

  “What’s that?”

  She smiled.

  “You didn’t?” said Scott.

  “I did! I got the letter yesterday, but I was so shocked I needed time to let it sink in.”

  Katherine had taken the Law School Admission Test and received word that she’d scored really well. She was cautiously optimistic that she would be admitted into the University of Reno’s law program. She and Scott hugged and kissed.

  “I’m not trying to steal your thunder,” said Scott, “but I have news, too. I got the loan! I’ll be able to open my own bike shop!”

  They stood up and hugged and twirled around.

  “The timing couldn’t be better either,” Scott said as they sat back down. “I mean, for you to become a lawyer. They make good money.”

  “I don’t understand. What does my becoming a lawyer have to do with your loan?”

  Scott took a deep breath. “Because if my wife’s a lawyer making big bucks, paying off my loan will be a lot easier.”

  Before Katherine could say anything, Scott pulled a little black box from his coat pocket and opened it.

  Katherine was speechless. It had been nearly two years since her split from Ray, and she’d sworn to never to love again, as if she actually had a choice. Even after she and Scott became a couple, she hadn’t seen marriage in her future, not to anyone. What a difference six months could make. She’d risked her heart, and Scott had been worth it. He was the most decent guy she’d ever known.

  Scott watched the wheels turning in Katherine’s head and smiled. He’d had the box in his pocket for a month, waiting for the right time. When he’d thought about this moment, he hadn’t pictured it on the front stoop of his apartment, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. He took Katherine’s hand.

  “I love you with all my heart. Will you please do me the honor of being my wife?”

  “You want to marry me?” she asked, her face glowing and her eyes filling with happy tears.

  “More than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he said as he pulled her close. He gently kissed the teardrops that hung on her eyelashes.

  Katherine smiled, then said “Can’t get enough of me, huh?”

  Scott responded by softly kissing her lips, then said, “Never.”

  THE END

  Forever Doomed

  (Under The Moonlight, Book 2)

  MaryAnn Kempher

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, brands, media, and incidences are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance or similarity to names places, or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  Attributions—You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests they endorse you or your use of the work.)

  Noncommercial—You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works—You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work. Inquiries about additional permissions should be directed to: kempherm@gmail.com

  Note from the Author:

  Hello. Forever Doomed is a murder mystery. It is not a crime thriller, or a police procedural kind of book. If you have a law enforcement background, please don’t beat me up if things do not happen in the book the way you know they would in the real world. Forever Doomed is meant to be a really good murder mystery/who-done-it.

  Thank you.

  MaryAnn Kempher

  Copyright 2013 MaryAnn Kempher

  Acknowledgements

  As always, I must first thank my husband, Doren. His love and support keep me going and give me strength. I’d also like to thank my Editor, Amanda Bauch, from The Editorial Department. She did a fantastic job, and helped make this book shine. My cover designer, Kari Ayasha, who also did a fantastic job, and last, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank Elaine A. LeDoux. She read this book before anyone else. Her observations were intelligent, and extremely helpful. Thanks Elaine!

  Chapter One

  “I’m head of security on a mainstream vessel called Forever,” Curt Noble had said. “A cruise ship with, including crew, about three thousand souls on board. Usually leaves out of Tampa, sometimes New York; four days, seven days, sometimes fourteen or more days at a time.” He had some personal business to attend to; he didn’t say what. What he’d said was that he needed a favor, someone to take over his duties temporarily. Detective Jack Harney’s first instinct was to say no. For one thing, he didn’t like boats and for another, he’d only just started working with the Tampa police department three months earlier. Could he even get the time off?

  But he and Curt had both been in the Army. They’d worked together, each looking out for the other. Jack owed his life to Curt. He knew he had to at least try. So he’d gotten a leave of absence approved, turned off the utilities in his condo, and left his car over at a coworker’s home for safekeeping.

  Jack looked around his office one last time, with little regret. He hadn’t been there long enough to miss anything or anyone. He hadn’t even unpacked. He looked over his shoulder, startled, as two policemen came into the room. They opened drawers and dropped boxes.

  “Hey, Jack,” one said, “you still here?”

  Jack smiled then answered, “Can’t wait to get rid of me I see.”

  “Hell yeah, you got that right. I got first dibs on your desk chair.”

  “The hell you do,” said the other officer. Jack laughed.

  “Hey, don’t forget this,” yelled one of the cops, his outstretched hand holding a picture frame. Jack walked over and took the picture of two people he didn’t even know anymore. The man was tan, his hair sandy blond from the sun. The woman wore a large, floppy hat to protect her always white skin. He and his ex-girlfriend in happier days. Jack shoved the frame into his duffel bag and looked around, feeling doubt about leaving, but it was fleeting. Jack Harney wasn’t the type of guy to dwell on his decisions. Once he made them, he lived with them.

  “See ya in a few, fellas.”

  Outside, a taxi was waiting to take him to Channelside, the area of Tampa where cruise ships arrived and departed.

  ***

  Jack looked up at the cruise ship. Logically, he knew it was nothing like the small fishing boat his dad used to take him out on as a kid. The ship was huge and unlikely to sink, but that knowledge didn’t completely dissolve the knot in his stomach. He could see Curt Noble standing at the entrance. He was hard to miss since he practically took up the entire opening. Curt seemed relieved to see him.

  “Were you worried I wouldn’t show?” asked Jack. Curt laughed.

  “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  He led Jack onto the ship where they stood watching passengers board. Curt noticed Jack looking at the worn carpet and paint peeling on a nearby wall.

  “I know it’s not the fanciest ship, Jack. It’s old and needs upgrading.”

  “What about security?” asked Jack.

  “Well,” said Curt, “it’s not what you’d call state of the art. Our system is actually pretty outdated, but I’ve worked on this ship four years now and it’s never been a problem.”

  Curt’s attention was caught by a blond man holding a sandwich, as he hurried down the hall.

  “Jojo—hey, Jojo,” Curt said. “I see you.” Noticing Jack’s questioning look, Curt said, “Employees are not allowed to eat in f
ront of the guests. Jojo knows that. But we’ve been in port longer than usual, so some of the crew has started to fall into bad habits. They all live on board, but while in port, they can come and go as they like. Okay, right now you’re on the second floor. The employee cafeteria is over there.” Curt tilted his head toward some double doors. “You’ll like our cafeteria. Mr. Smalls makes sure the crew is fed really well. He had the whole place renovated. It’s still closed, but I think it may open later today or tomorrow.”

  “Who’s Mr. Smalls?” Jack asked.

  “Only the owner. Took over for his brother about a year ago. Harmless enough. He’s a nervous, twitchy kind of guy. He always reminded me of the old dude from Jurassic Park. Anyway, the security office, where all the ship’s video monitors are located, are down the hall, and so is your office. Ship’s confinement area is one floor down. The start of the cruise and the last day are usually the only days passengers are on this floor. Come on, I’ll show you Security.”

  “Confinement area?” Jack said.

  “Yeah, but we rarely use it. I’ve only had to lock up two passengers the whole time I’ve worked security. It’s good to have, just in case.”

  They walked down a long corridor, finally arriving at a door with the word Security written across the top. Inside, two men, one with dark, black, curly hair, cut short to his head. The other with blond hair, past his shoulders, and wearing a baseball cap, sat in front of eight monitors. Jack recognized one as the man Curt had yelled at earlier.

  “The hippie,” Curt said, smiling and gesturing toward the man with long hair, “is Jojo. The other one is Bobby.”

  Curt walked over to a small television in the corner of the room; a baseball game was playing on it. He turned it off.

  “I told you guys, no TV,” Curt looked at Jack. “They’re baseball fans.”

  “Not just fans,” Jojo said, “huge fans.” He held up his hand, on it was a gaudy ring. “See this—this is a genuine World Series ring. Got it off of eBay.”

  “Whatever,” Curt said. “Jojo, I’m gonna kick your ass if I see you walking around with food in front of the passengers again.”

  “Sorry, boss,” answered Jojo.

  Jack smiled, then nodded to the men, saying, “Joe, Bobby.”

  Jojo turned in his seat and held up his hand, his finger pointing and reminding Jack of the foam fingers you get at baseball games and said, “It’s Jojo, not Joe.” Jack looked at Curt, who shrugged.

  “Sorry,” Jack said, “Jojo.”

  “We have two security personnel in here at all times,” Curt continued, “watching the cameras for eight hours each; three eight-hour shifts starting at seven a.m. Sometimes there’s a little overlap. Also, there is always a team of two men roaming the ship for twelve-hour shifts. Six in the morning until six at night, six at night until six in the morning. The roaming team—that’s what they’re called—doesn’t walk the ship together. They each go in opposite directions at the start of the shift and meet up throughout the night. If there’s a problem, whoever is working in here will see it on the cameras and radio the roaming team for help. But we rarely have any real trouble. Bobby and Jojo usually work three to eleven, but they like to switch shifts with the other two teams now and again; they get bored easily. All right, you guys, I’ll see you in a month or two. Don’t give Jack any shit, or I’ll come back and kick your asses, okay?”

  The two men had turned back toward the monitors. Waving over their shoulders they said, “Yeah, yeah.”

  Jack followed Curt out of the office.

  “You’ll want to make sure you meet all the security crew. The other shifts know you’ll be coming around. They won’t give you any trouble—I have a pretty good team. Let me take you to your office, then I’ll show you your cabin.”

  Jack’s office was tiny, with only enough room for a small desk and chair, with one extra chair for visitors. It had no window, not even a porthole. The overhead light flickered. He looked at Curt, who said, “I spent as little time in here as possible.”

  Their next stop was the third floor, where the crew’s cabins were located. Jack looked around his room and tried to hide his disappointment. When agreeing to help Curt out, he hadn’t given his living arrangements any thought. As much as he disliked boats, he disliked small spaces even worse. Curt could see Jack wasn’t happy.

  “Sorry about the size, Jack. Naturally, the bigger cabins go to the paying guests. Listen, here are the keys to your room and office.” He held up a separate key.

  “This one is a skeleton key—it will open any door on board. You know in case something happens in one of the guest cabins and we need to get in quickly. It’s usually kept in the security office. I also left a notepad full of instructions, and my cell phone number on your desk. I’m going to have to get out of here; the ship will be departing soon. You can call me anytime, but you won’t need to. Oh, and something else—there’s going to be a large wedding party on board.”

  “So?”

  “Well, they tend to get rowdy. Not only at the reception, but beforehand. You know, the bachelor party, the bachelorette party. Not saying they’re for certain going to give you a hard time, but they’ll keep you on your toes.”

  Jack walked with Curt to the exit and they shook hands.

  “Anything else I should know?” asked Jack.

  Curt thought for a moment, then said, “We did have a problem with a few crew members bringing drugs on board. This ship sometimes goes to places where drugs are easy to get. Those crew members, naturally, are gone. But, now Security personnel do random searches of the crew’s rooms. The crew knows this, but they don’t know when the searches will happen, of course.”

  “Bet they love that,” Jack said.

  “Yeah. Well, I did one yesterday. No drugs found, so you can probably skip it. I’ll do another when I return.”

  “See you later, Jack. Thanks again.”

  Curt hurried off the ship, leaving Jack feeling slightly tricked. From what he’d been told, the security team was capable, but he still felt apprehensive. Until he’d been told about the drug issue and the wedding party, he’d been assured by Curt that the worst mischief he could expect to encounter would be the occasional shoplifter or drunk tourist. He should have known better.

  Jack leaned against the railing, surrounded by tourists waving to family and strangers below. He pulled some Dramamine from his pocket, tilted his head, and swallowed it without the benefit of water. He watched without seeing, lost in thought. Reaching into his coat, he took a picture out of his wallet. What’s she doing right now? he wondered, but didn’t really want to know. With one last look at the Tampa skyline, Jack turned and walked back inside. For a while, he watched crew members check passports and board more passengers. Then he left.

  When Jack walked into his office later that afternoon, he was surprised to see someone waiting. A man, chubby and older, maybe in his late fifties with snow-white hair was sitting, but jumped up as Jack entered. The man wasn’t much taller standing than when he’d been seated.

  “Sir, is there something I can help you with?” Jack asked.

  The man held out his hand, Jack hesitated but took it.

  “Jack, Jack,” the man said in a breathless voice, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “And you are?” Jack asked. The man flopped back down on the couch, appearing exhausted from having stood.

  “I’m Clarence Smalls, the owner.”

  “Oh, well. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  When Jack had agreed to take over Curt’s duties, and Curt told Jack about Mr. Smalls, he’d mentioned the movie Jurassic Park, saying that Mr. Smalls was the spitting image of the dinosaur park’s owner. Jack made an effort to keep the smile from his face, half expecting that at any moment Mr. Smalls would say he’d “spared no expense.”

  “It was difficult to part with Curt,” Mr. Smalls was saying. “He’s done a wonderful job working for me and I didn’t want to lose him. I only agreed to his l
eaving temporarily because what he had to do was so important, and he had such positive things to say about you. We run a tight ship here, no funny business. I can tell you, I’ve had problems before, but not since Curt took over. Well, aside from the drug issue. Yes, yes, a fabulous man.”

  Mr. Smalls slapped his knees and stood again.

  “Well, you carry on, Jack. I’m a very hands-off boss. You won’t see me often. I don’t like to tell people how to do their jobs.” Jack stood aside as Mr. Smalls walked toward the door.

  “Well, Mr. Smalls, it was nice to meet you.”

  “Oh no, no. You must call me Clarence—I insist.” With that Mr. Smalls walked out the door.

  Jack had started to turn around, when suddenly Mr. Smalls turned back and said, “My father left me this cruise ship. Did you know that, Jack? He used to say reputation is everything. And I don’t mind telling you, people aren’t taking cruises like they used to. Why we have dozens of empty cabins, so the last thing we need is the perception that our guests and their belongings are not safe.”

  “I will do my best for you and your ship,” Jack said.

  By eight that evening, Jack had walked around the ship, met with the swing shift crew, and talked to that evening’s roaming team, Matt Smith and Frank Towers. He’d been avoiding his cabin but planned to check in with the graveyard shifters later, so he needed to unpack and try to get some sleep.

  He walked into his cabin and looked around, shaking his head in disbelief. He lay on his bed, his arms crossed behind his head, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. Twenty-four hours ago he was sleeping in a king-size bed in a two-bedroom condo. Now, here he was on a twin-size mattress in a room that resembled a prison cell.