Under the Moonlight collection

by MaryAnn Kempher

  “But as you can see,” he interrupted the chattering women, “I’m fine.” He gave his mother and sister a stern look.

  Two hours later, at nearly ten o’clock, Scott was getting ready to leave for Alex’s party. He ran a comb through his hair and put on cologne.

  “So,” asked Scott, “what are you and Amy going to do tonight?”

  Katherine shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know.”

  Scott kissed Katherine and walked to the door. Katherine pointed at Scott and said, “Behave yourself, gomer.”

  Scott laughed then said, “Okay, only one lap dance—promise.” Katherine threw a pillow at him.

  “No lap dances.”

  Scott blew her a kiss and left.

  ***

  Katherine and Amy walked around the ship for a while, and then headed back to their cabins.

  “We’ll have all day tomorrow to do stuff,” Katherine was saying. Just then an attractive red head left the room next to Amy’s, quietly closing the door behind her.

  “Goodnight.” said Amy.

  “Goodnight.”

  Chapter Five

  After his nightly visit with swing shift, Jack went back to his room. Without meaning to, he’d fallen asleep and was startled awake by the loud shrill of his bedside phone. He looked at his clock. 10:40 p.m.

  “Hello?”

  “Jack. We have a problem.” Jack recognized the voice. It belonged to Frank Towers, a member of one of his roaming security teams. In his early thirties and built like a football player, Frank’s tough-guy image was completed by multiple tattoos running the length of each arm.

  “Where?”

  “Meet me in the infirmary.”

  Jack dressed quickly and bolted from his cabin.

  When he walked into the ship’s medical office, he was concerned to see standing beside Frank, the ship’s captain, and the owner, Mr. Smalls.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “What’s happened?”

  Mr. Smalls’s wispy, white hair was messy and his shirt was buttoned incorrectly. He paced the room.

  “Oh this is bad. This is very very bad,” he said. Jack looked toward the captain.

  “Jack,” said the captain, “there’s been a death on board. A murder.”

  Jack looked over the captain’s shoulder and saw a woman’s body.

  “What happened?”

  “It wasn’t much after ten,” said Frank. “I was doing my rounds on level five outside the casino when I observed two women. One appeared drunk, almost unable to stand. I was still about thirty to fifty feet away when the woman who appeared drunk fell to the deck, and the other woman fled in the opposite direction. I ran to the fallen woman and called for a medic. When medical personnel arrived, they informed me the woman was dead.”

  “What makes you think she was murdered?” asked Jack.

  The doctor walked over to the woman. He pulled down the white sheet that reached to her neck. Jack walked over. The women’s blouse was pulled up. He saw one stab wound.

  “There,” the doctor said, pointing.

  Mr. Smalls started pacing and speaking hurriedly.

  “Oh, this is the end. This is the end for sure. The other cruise lines, all they have to contend with is a nasty virus or a power outage. Not me, my ship has to have a murder. This is the end of my family’s business. Forever is doomed.”

  “Calm down, Clarence,” said the captain.

  “It looks to have been a large knife,” the doctor continued. “As you can see, she was stabbed once, but once was enough. The wound is deep. The killer was strong and either very angry or very determined.”

  Jack looked at Frank. “Do we know who this woman is? Did she have ID?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Frank. “She had some money and her ID in the pocket of her skirt. Her name was Pam Larsen.”

  “Was she on board alone?” asked Jack.

  “She has her own room, but the cruise was booked for two people, two rooms. Another woman, a Ms. Marni Michaels. She hasn’t been told yet.”

  “What about security? Have they been told to look through footage? Maybe we can get an ID on the woman who ran.”

  “Not yet,” Frank said.

  ***

  When Jack and Frank entered the security office, it was nearly 11:30 and the shift change was over. Jack said to one of the men watching the monitors, “Did Bobby or Jojo mention anything unusual?”

  “No.” The man looked at Frank, smiled, then said, “Bobby said something about you having to deal with a drunk woman. Did you get her number?”

  “That was no drunk woman,” said Jack, his voice angry. “She was murdered.”

  “Oh jeez,” said the man. “We didn’t know.”

  ”Pull up security footage for the fifth floor, outside, near the casino. Start at around ten-o’clock and work forward.”

  They watched the footage until it reached around 10:05, when Jack said, “There.” He pointed at the one of the monitors.

  Pam Larsen could be seen exiting an elevator and going outside. As she stood against the railing she was approached by a blond woman wearing a loose fitting dress. They seemed to speak to each other. Moments later Pam was attacked, and she fell to the deck. Her killer picked her up and it looked like the plan was to toss Pam’s body overboard. But then Frank could be seen arriving.

  “Why’s the footage so fuzzy?” asked Jack.

  “Thunderstorm,” answered Bobby. “Power surge.”

  Frank pointed at the screen. “That’s where I yelled, asking if there was a problem. The victim’s body was dropped, the other woman ran, and I called for help.”

  “Who are you working with tonight?” asked Jack, referring to Frank’s partner.

  “Matt Smith,” answered Frank, “but I think there’s something wrong with my radio or his, because he’s not answering.”

  Jack looked down at his watch. “Crap, look how late it is already. Well, I guess we should go tell her friend.”

  As they walked down the quiet halls, Jack said more to himself than to Frank, “The occasional drunk, maybe a shoplifter.”

  “What?” asked Frank.

  “That’s what Curt told me I could expect. The occasional drunk, maybe a shoplifter.”

  “Well, that’s usually how it is,” said Frank. “I’ve been on board a year. Nothing even remotely like this has ever happened.”

  ***

  Jack knocked on the door, Frank standing behind him. It was well after midnight and either Pam’s friend was still out or she was a sound sleeper. Finally, the door opened a crack. A woman peered out, clutching her robe shut. Jack held up his identification. She looked between Jack and Frank, a surprised, wide-eyed look on her face.

  “Ma’am, my name is Jack Harney. This is Frank Towers. Could we speak to you for a moment?”

  “Sure, of course,” answered the woman, yawning. “What’s this about?”

  “May we come in?” asked Jack. She opened the door wide and stood aside.

  “Of course.”

  Jack looked around the room. It was one of the smallest cabins available, little more than a bed and bathroom. An open suitcase, half full, was on the floor, an evening gown tossed over the arm of a nearby chair. He’d been told the Captain’s Ball would be held that night. Marni Michaels hardly looked old enough to be traveling alone. She wasn’t exactly short, but couldn’t have been more than 5’5”. Jack though it wise to ask, “Is your name Marni Michaels?”

  “Yes.” she answered.

  “Are you friends with a woman named Pam Larsen?”

  “Yes. What’s this all about?” Alarm had started to creep into her voice.

  “I have some bad news,” said Jack. “A woman has been killed.”

  “A woman?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, but we believe it was your friend.”

  “What? Are you sure? I mean, are you sure it was Pam?”

  “Yes,” answered Jack. “But we’ll need you to identify the body.”

  She sa
t on the bed and stared at the floor. Jack watched her quietly. He knew from experience that it would take a few minutes for the news to sink in.

  “We’ll step outside, so you can dress,” said Jack.

  A few minutes passed before Marni Michaels joined them in the hall. She’d put her blond hair into a ponytail and dressed in sweats. She silently followed them down the hall. Jack watched her with pity; she was deathly pale. Every now and then, he noticed, she seemed to reach up and wipe a tear from her face, but she didn’t make a sound.

  Jack led Marni into the infirmary, and Frank followed.

  “This won’t be easy,” said Jack. He took her elbow and led her toward the doctor, who was blocking the table and the body. Marni staggered as they got closer. The doctor slowly removed the sheet that covered Pam’s face. Marni stared, her face expressionless, then nodded. She reached over, touching Pam’s cheek. Her hand recoiled.

  “So cold.” She turned toward Jack. “Who stabbed her?” she asked, Do you have anyone in custody?”

  “No, not yet, but it’s a cruise ship. They have nowhere to go, unless they want to jump overboard. We’ll find your friend’s killer.”

  Frank Towers stepped forward.

  “How did you know she’d been stabbed?” he asked.

  Marni took a step backward, looking flustered.

  “Oh, well, I don’t see any other signs of violence. So, unless she was shot—stabbing would be how she’d been killed. Right?”

  Jack didn’t answer. His eyes met Frank’s. Lucky guess? They seemed to say to each other. Or something more?

  Jack and Frank walked Marni back to her room.

  “Ms. Michaels,” said Jack. “We’d like you to take a look at your friend’s cabin. You’ll know better than us if her room appears unusual in anyway.”

  Marni nodded. They walked to the housekeeping office on the same floor. A woman sat behind a small desk. Jack took out his identification

  “Hello,” he said. “I’m Jack Harney, this is Frank Towers. We’re from security. We need to get into room 410.”

  The woman stood, opened a drawer and took out a huge set of keys.

  “What happened to Curt?” she asked.

  “I’m filling in for Curt, temporarily.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing you should concern yourself with,” answered Jack. She’d find out the details soon enough. She didn’t need to hear them tonight.

  “Don’t you people have a master key?”

  “We forgot it,” said Jack, working to keep the irritation from his voice.

  Pam’s room was the same as Marni’s had been, small and cramped. Her clothes were scattered over the otherwise neat bed, as if she’d tried on many outfits before going out. A coat or jacket of some sort was thrown over the back of a chair. He stared at it, lost in thought, then said to Marni, “Is there anything about her room that alarms you?”

  “No,” she answered. “Pam wasn’t a neat-freak, so the clothes all over the place are normal.”

  Jack turned toward the woman from housekeeping. “The woman in this cabin has had an accident. Nobody is to go into her room, unless accompanied by security, for any reason, understand?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll make a note of it.”

  As the woman walked away, Jack looked at Frank and said, “Listen, I want you to find the ship’s photographer. Bring him here to take pictures of Pam’s room and the area where she was killed. It won’t take long for this to get out, but stress to him the importance of discretion.”

  “Okay boss.”

  “You can go now, Ms. Michaels,” said Jack. “But we may need to speak with you again.”

  As they watched Marni go into her room. Frank whispered,

  “What do you think of her?”

  “Marni Michaels? Hard to say,” answered Jack.

  “It was kind of weird though, don’t you think?” said Frank. “I mean what she said about Pam Larsen being stabbed. The way she said it, so matter of fact like. You wouldn’t have thought she was talking about someone she knew. And she wouldn’t even walk with us on the way back to her room. She held back, like she thought we were gonna bite or something.”

  “I’ve been to dozens of crime scenes,” answered Jack. “Sometimes the killers cry more than the family left behind. Shock can make people act strange, and don’t forget, she’s just found out her friend was murdered. Still, we’ll be talking to Marni Michaels again, soon.”

  They started walking toward the elevators, but Frank stopped suddenly, placing his hand on Jack’s arm. “I just remembered something,” he said. “There was a woman, older. She came outside and offered assistance. I’d already noticed the blood on Pam Larsen’s shirt, I covered her chest with my coat, I didn’t want to alarm the woman, so I told her Pam was drunk.”

  “Let’s go,” said Jack. Within minutes, they were back at the security office.

  “Pull up the footage from outside the casino again,” said Jack. “This time, let’s see the inside cameras.”

  The footage outside the casino was replayed. Two women stood talking, then one left. A lone woman stood, looking at something outside.

  “Damn.” said Frank. “She may have seen the attack, or the killer.” They watched her go outside, then go back inside. After a few minutes, she left.

  “You’re on shift until tomorrow morning, right?” asked Jack.

  “Yes, until six a.m.” answered Frank.

  “Well, there’s not much we can do tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow. Keep your eyes open for anything suspicious.”

  “I will, boss.”

  Frank walked out of the security office. Jack rewound and watched the footage again, paying particular attention to the older woman who might have seen Pam Larsen’s murder. He remembered the woman. She’d boarded with her sister that day. First thing in the morning, he’d find her.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday morning, RJ sat at the edge of his bed. He’d just returned from Pam’s room. He couldn’t believe she was dead. He knew it was true but it was still hard to accept. He didn’t know why he’d gone there. He hadn’t known her long, but they had spent a lot of time together over the previous week. He’d felt compelled to be near her in some way.

  He stood and walked to his closet and pulled out a clean shirt. She’d been dead less than twelve hours and already most of the crew knew. He’d bumped into a few people on his way back to his room, and that’s all they wanted to talk about. It wouldn’t be long before the guests knew something had happened, most already suspected. They just didn’t know what.

  He thought about their last fight. It had been their second. He regretted both. If not for the first fight, she wouldn’t have gone down to the kitchen looking for him, and he might not have acted like a horny teenager. Who knows? They might have spent the night together, and maybe she’d still be alive this morning. He knew what had happened was necessary, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

  He wondered what would happen now? The ship would likely be turned around. The owners would want more than the ship’s security investigating the murder. Mr. Smalls seemed like he was running things on board, but it was his family who ran things. Everyone knew that.

  He wanted to go down to the medical office. They’d have Pam in some kind of refrigeration unit, but she’d be there somewhere. He’d like to see her one last time, but wondered if he could do it without anyone seeing him go in. He didn’t want any questions, or attention. RJ looked over at the clock; he might have enough time. He left his cabin.

  When he got off the elevator, he was relieved to see the hallway empty. He walked toward the medical office, mentally preparing a lie in case someone was there. If confronted, he’d ask for some aspirin or something. The door had a frosted glass front. If someone was on the other side, you’d be able to tell, you just wouldn’t see details. Nobody appeared to be on the other side, but that didn’t mean anything. They could be in another area of the office. With one last look around, RJ
slowly pushed open the door.

  “Hello?” he said, but the office was silent. Straight ahead was an empty examination table. He wondered if Pam had lain there at some point. He could see that nobody was in the office. He looked toward a stainless steel door off to the right. The passengers, should they ask, were told it was a refrigeration unit for medications like insulin. RJ knew it was designed to hold more than that.

  He took a deep breath and pulled on the heavy door. When he looked inside, he swallowed hard. He’d only seen a real dead body once before. If not for the gray tinge to her skin, Pam looked asleep. She was on a gurney, a white sheet pulled up to her neck. RJ walked over, forgetting to be careful. The need for an aspirin would not explain his presence with the dead body. He stared down at her face and pulled the sheet down. She was naked. Too bad you had to be dead for me to see your tits, Pam. I’m sorry this happened to you. You were pretty cool. RJ smiled at that last thought. Still are, I guess.

  He pulled the sheet back up over her body then ran his hand through his hair, feeling like a bastard for thinking that was funny. He looked down at Pam’s face once more, then turned back toward the door. His hand was on the knob when he heard voices.

  Aw shit! How am I going to explain this?

  The voices grew louder. RJ looked around the refrigeration unit, desperate for a hiding place. Now he really did have a headache. The sheet that covered Pam’s body hung all the way to the floor, and he considered hiding underneath it. This was getting worse and worse. RJ decided to walk out. He’d say he’d been curious. What’s the worst that could happen?

  He opened the door, but nobody was there. The office was empty. He looked toward the door, and he could barely see through the frosted glass the outlines of two people. He thought they might be the doctor and the nurse. Now what? He felt like an idiot. What the hell was I thinking? Coming down here was stupid, stupid, stupid. She’s dead, and she doesn’t care whether I said goodbye or not.