Under the Moonlight collection

by MaryAnn Kempher

  A big calendar hung on the wall across from the bed. He jumped up, grabbed a black marker off a nearby desk, placed an X across the just-ended day, and then sat on the end of his bed, staring at the floor. He could hear people walking by and talking outside his door. They might as well have been miles away. He was surrounded by at least a few thousand people, but he’d never felt so alone.

  He reached into his open suitcase and pulled out a four-by-six picture of a young woman. His ex-girlfriend. He’d fallen hard for Amy. He ran his finger over her face then started to rip the picture, stopping halfway. He put the picture back in the suitcase. An old country song by Garth Brooks played across his memory. He forced the woman’s image and the sad lyrics from his mind and tried to sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Though only a week into the cruise, Jack already had a routine. Friday evening he walked into the security office for his usual evening visit. Jojo and Bobby were working. They turned as Jack walked in. Jojo had a sour look on his face.

  “Come on, Jojo,” said Jack. “Don’t look at me like that. You knew the costume ball was tonight, you should have found someone to work your shift for you.” Jack looked toward Bobby.

  “Everything quiet?” he asked.

  “Yep. Not a peep of trouble.”

  “Well,” said Jack, “I won’t make it over again before shift change, so I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Bye, Jojo.”

  Jojo grumbled. Jack smiled and walked out.

  Jojo and Bobby also had a routine. Once Jack had made his evening visit, one of them would take off and the other would cover for him. They’d done the same thing with Curt and hadn’t been caught yet. That night, Bobby was annoyed; usually Jack stopped by earlier in the shift. It almost wasn’t worth the risk of leaving, since he still needed to be back by eleven so the swing shift guys didn’t know what he and Jojo did. As soon as they could see on the cameras, Jack go into his room, Bobby stood.

  “Hey,” said Jojo, “you came in late and I covered for you. Don’t be gone the whole shift. I don’t care what Jack says—I want to check out that costume party.”

  “Okay,” answered Bobby, “I’ll come back early enough so you can go.”

  Chapter Three

  The woman wore a long gray overcoat and next to nothing underneath it. She was relieved when the elevator she entered was empty and thankful for the costume ball that was going on. She’d heard that most of the staff would be working the ball and that they’d be allowed to eat there, so the cafeteria was closed. She was still nervous. She’d been told in no uncertain terms not to enter the cafeteria, or its kitchen after hours, but she’d gotten sidetracked and hadn’t gotten down there earlier. So now she’d need to sneak.

  When she arrived at the second floor, it was quiet and empty. As she’d expected it would be. She couldn’t help wondering what the big deal was. She’d go in, get the cake, and leave. She realized the problem as she pushed through the cafeteria doors; it was very dark. They were probably worried she’d trip or something, and maybe sue.

  The kitchen lights were on, and she used them to guide her across the room. If someone was in there, she’d just take her overcoat off; one look at her nearly naked body would get her out of any trouble she might be in. However, she hoped the room was empty and luckily it was. She looked around. Her fake cake would likely be in the pantry. Then again, she’d done gigs where her cake had been kept in the refrigerator alongside real cakes. Go figure.

  As she was about to open the pantry, she heard someone at the back door. She had just a second to decide what to do; hide in the pantry or stay and prepare to explain why she was there. Being a stripper paid the bills, but it wasn’t something she was proud of. When she danced in front of drunk men, she felt detached. They didn’t know her, and she didn’t know them. But standing there in the kitchen, she didn’t relish the thought of having to either talk or flash her way out of trouble. She’d also had one or two unpleasant experiences. It was never a good idea for a stripper to find herself alone with a man she didn’t know.

  She quickly opened the pantry door and stepped inside. Oh good, my cake. By the sound of the wind, rain, and even the occasional thunder, she could tell the back door had finally been opened. She cracked the pantry door an inch and peeked out. A tall, muscular man was there, he was making a sandwich. She’d wait him out. The lights in the kitchen flickered on and off, then on again. Suddenly, another man entered the kitchen. Jeez, I’m never gonna get out of here.

  “What are you doing in here?” she heard him ask. His tone concerned her. He seemed annoyed, maybe even angry. At least I’m not the only person in the kitchen that’s not supposed to be here.

  The other man didn’t answer. He picked up a rolling pin and hit the guy on the side of the head, hard. The man fell to the floor with a thud. His head lay outside where she was hiding. Through the crack in the door, she could see blood on the side of his head, his eyes wide open and vacant. She swallowed hard and willed herself not to freak out. She’d need all her composure so she didn’t give herself away. She watched, shocked, as the man rushed to the kitchen’s swinging doors, looked out, then quickly returned. He picked up the dead guy and walked outside.

  She wasn’t thinking straight. Should she wait, see if he was coming back? Should she run like hell and hope he didn’t see? She did what any good stripper would do. She went to the other side of her cake, bent down, and with all her strength pushed that cake out of the pantry, through the kitchen, and out of the cafeteria. She pulled up the hood up on her overcoat and kept it there until she arrived at her destination.

  ***

  The man had to pull hard on the back entrance/exit to the kitchen that led directly outside. Though he worked out and was strong, the door tended to stick. That night was no different. With one good yank, it opened. He entered cautiously, looking around to ensure the room was empty. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be in the cafeteria at that late hour, but with the costume ball going on, and the room finally empty, he had to take a chance.

  Time was running out; the ship had been at sea a week and there had been only a few opportunities to be alone in the kitchen. There was always someone there, even after hours, but that night everyone was gone, working the party. Even the pastry chef, who could usually be found in the kitchen at all hours of the night preparing cakes and pies, especially with the baked goods competition about to begin, was absent. The lights flickered. Damn thunderstorm. He opened a refrigeration unit, took out things for a sandwich, and walked over to the pantry door with plans to pull out a container that was inside. He was startled to see Matt Smith enter the kitchen.

  “What are you doing in here?” asked Matt.

  The man felt like a prize fool for what happened next, because it didn’t have to happen. If he hadn’t been surprised by Matt’s entrance, he would have thought of a perfectly plausible excuse. But he panicked and without thinking, grabbed the rolling pin off the counter and swung it at Matt’s head. It happened so fast, he didn’t even realize he’d done it until he heard the gasp come from the direction of the door that led to the cafeteria. Someone was at the kitchen door’s window.

  He ran to the door in time to see a woman rushing from the cafeteria. He went back to Matt and felt for a pulse. Damn damn damn! He’d have to take care of this on his own and he needed to be quick. He went to the outside door, looked out, and when he saw that nobody was there, easily picked up Matt’s body, took it outside, and tossed it overboard.

  He leaned against the closed kitchen door, breathing heavy, his heart beating fast. After a minute, he straightened up, smoothed his shirt, and went back into the kitchen. He walked over to the swinging door and peered out the window. The seating area was empty, the woman long gone.

  ***

  Pam Larsen ran a brush through her long hair one last time and quietly closed the cabin door behind her. She didn’t want her friend next door to know she’d returned, or that she was going back out. They’d had a fight. She steadied
herself as she walked. She still didn’t have her sea legs. Or maybe it was the multiple tequila shots she’d drunk earlier that was making her walk unsteady? As if the fight with her friend wasn’t bad enough, she’d also had an argument with RJ, a guy she’d met the first night of the cruise. She’d seen him flirting with a woman that day.

  They’d been spending a lot to time together and she liked him, but sometimes she found his hands too free and his attitude too arrogant. But he was good looking and the only guy she’d met since boarding the ship, so she was going back out to find him. Pam had left him with an angry look on his face, but she thought she might know where he was and planned to smooth things out between them. She entered the elevator and pushed a button.

  When the doors opened, she got out and looked around nervously. She wasn’t supposed to be on that floor; it was mostly for the ship’s crew. Luckily the hallway was empty. Hoping she was at the right place, and after debating a moment, she pushed through the double doors of what she hoped was the cafeteria. Inside, the room was empty and dark. She recalled RJ saying the place closed at nine o’clock. She looked at her watch; it was a few minutes after ten. There were no workers, but she thought she could hear sounds coming from the kitchen. As she neared the kitchen’s swinging door, she heard a man say, “What are you doing in here?”

  She looked through the round window in the door and saw two men. One seemed angry. Pam’s eyes widened when one of the guys picked up a rolling pin and swung it at the other’s head. The man fell to the floor with a sickening thud. Pam gasped. The other man looked toward the door. She quickly moved away from the window, turned around, and ran toward the exit and straight into the arms of the man she’d been looking for. She looked up, relieved.

  “Oh, RJ, I’m so glad to see you. Something horrible has happened. A man has been hurt, maybe killed.”

  “Calm down, Pam,” he said, taking her by the elbow and leading her back inside.

  “Let me get you some water or something.”

  “Oh, let’s not go back in there. There were two men. One hit the other, and he might still be there.”

  RJ chuckled then said, “Sure, Pam. Here, sit down. I’m with you now, you have nothing to worry about. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you. You did drink quite a lot when we were together earlier.”

  There were no more voices, and Pam started to question what she’d seen and to even feel a little foolish. The man, she told herself, had hit the other, sure. But it probably wasn’t with a rolling pin.

  “You’re probably right,” she said, smiling. “Could you go look though?”

  “Of course,” he answered. “I’ll be right back.” He walked off into the shadows, toward the kitchen. A few seconds later he returned.

  “There’s nobody in there now.”

  “Oh, what a relief.” she said, taking the water he offered. “I was really worried.”

  RJ walked behind Pam’s chair and started to gently rub her shoulders. She began to relax, saying, “Oh, that feels wonderful. I seriously need to lay off of the tequila. I can’t believe I had myself convinced I’d witnessed a murder.”

  RJ’s hands rubbed her neck and shoulders. His lips softly kissed her neck, and she moaned. But when his hands slowly, as if she might not notice, slid down the front on her V-neck blouse and covered her breasts, she grabbed his wrists and stood. This wasn’t the first time RJ had come on too strong.

  “You,” Pam said, “are an asshole.” Then she hurried out of the door. RJ followed, grabbing Pam’s arm and swinging her around.

  “Come on, baby. You know you want me. Why play these games? We’re on a cruise, nothing serious.”

  Pam shook her arm free from RJ’s grasp.

  “Did you practice that greasy line or did it come naturally from your nasty mouth?”

  She started walking away.

  “You tease—you bitch,” he yelled at her.

  “Just stay away from me, RJ,” Pam yelled over her shoulder as she ran toward the elevator.

  Someone rushed down the hall toward RJ, who was standing by the closed elevator doors. They looked at each other, a determined look on one’s face, a resigned look on the other’s. RJ had lied to Pam. The kitchen hadn’t been empty.

  Both knew what happened to Matt and that Pam had seen. They knew what needed to be done, and it needed to be done right away. Everything would go to crap if Pam told anyone what she’d seen, and if one went down, they all went down. Moments after the elevator stopped at the fifth floor, it returned to the second, and Pam was found and followed.

  A stranger watched Pam as she leaned against the ship’s outside railing, her hair blowing in the wind. She looked beautiful standing there, so solitary and romantic. After glancing around to ensure they were alone, she was joined. The newcomer stood a few feet away.

  “Excuse me,” Pam said over the wind. “I don’t mean to be antisocial, but would you mind not standing so close to me?” Then she turned and looked closer at the stranger, asking, “What are you wearing?”

  Pam’s eyes widened as her arms were grabbed and she was shoved against the wall. In a split second it was over. With one swing a long, sharp knife was brought down into her stomach. She didn’t even have time to scream. Her body slumped but she was caught before falling to the deck. Pam would be thrown overboard and it would be hours before anyone noticed she was gone. They’d probably never find her body. As she was about to be picked up, a shout was heard over the wind. It was a member of security. He was pretty far away but his eyes seemed to meet those of Pam’s killer. Her body was dropped to the deck. Her killer ran in the opposite direction.

  ***

  A short, chubby woman holding a large purse, walked from the casino. She gave her purse a shake and smiled at the sound of the coins within. She debated whether she should go to bed or go back inside. A taller, thin woman joined her. “I’m tired,” said the chubby woman, “but I’m going to stay until I win big, or lose these quarters.”

  “Haven’t you lost enough money, Nene?” asked the thin woman.

  Nene laughed and said “Oh Gaga, have some faith.”

  “Alright, see you tomorrow.”

  Gaga walked off.

  Nene was about to go back into the casino when something caught her eye. Even on a cruise, the nights were more or less quiet. There weren’t a lot of people around, so two women staggering near the outside railing caught her attention. She watched them closely. One woman, dressed in a white, billowy dress, her blonde hair blowing in the wind, was holding up the other woman, who appeared drunk.

  She was shocked to see the woman in the dress allow the other woman to slump to the deck. Suddenly, she saw a man rushing toward the fallen woman. He was holding a radio and wore a blue jacket with the word security written in yellow on the front. She hurried outside, eager to help, pulling her sweater tight and crossing her arms. The wind blew loudly. Now and then a bolt of lightning lit the sky in the distance, followed by a low boom of thunder.

  “I need a medic to level five, outside the casino,” the man said into his radio. He’d taken off his jacket and placed it across the fallen woman.

  “Is there anything I can do?” she asked, kneeling next to him.

  “No ma’am. I think she’s just had too much to drink.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said, standing and walking back inside, where she waited. Finally, she watched as two medical personnel walked briskly toward the woman. One of the medics was checking the woman’s neck for a pulse. Nene;s stomach sunk when the medic shook her head. The woman was dead.

  ***

  The suite was spacious, gorgeous, and filled with men, the bachelor party well under way. The men cheered when she walked in. She pushed the cake across the room and through a door on the other side. She was supposed to have already had the cake in the room, where she’d hide inside and at the appropriate time would have been brought out to do her show. But doing her show was the last thing on her mind. Instead, she sat on the bed. She looked
up when the bedroom door opened and a guy walked in. He sat and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “You okay, pretty lady?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d been crying. Big fat tears rolled down her face. She wiped them with the back of her hand.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” She looked up at the man’s face, and even distraught she couldn’t help noticing how good looking he was. Tall with thick, dark hair, he even had a thick, black mustache. She allowed his arm to stay around her shoulders, even though she knew what would likely happen. He was drunk, but she didn’t care; she needed to be held. She’d had a rough night.

  “Tell me why you’re crying,” he said.

  “It’s nothing, really,” she said. It wasn’t like she was going to say, “Yeah, well before I came up here, I saw some guy get his brains bashed in.”

  She didn’t know what to do. Should she go talk to someone? Should she stay out of it? That was her first impulse. Keep out of it. It wasn’t any of her business. A part of her knew this was wrong, that the guy she’d seen shouldn’t be allowed to get away with murder. But for now, she was going to keep her mouth shut. The bedroom door opened again and another man came in. He was as good looking as the first guy, only he was a blond. Oh this can’t be good.

  “You okay?” the man asked. He seemed to be talking to her, but the guy sitting next to her answered.

  “I’m fine. Just talking to my new friend,” his words were slurred. The other guy walked over and pulled his friend up.

  “I’m sorry, miss. He’s had a lot to drink tonight. I wouldn’t interfere, but he’s the groom and I don’t want to see him do something he’ll regret.