Under the Moonlight collection

by MaryAnn Kempher

  “Yeah well, she’s always been a drama queen, and,” Jason nodded toward Kimy, “if you hadn’t noticed, she can’t stop herself from looking at you.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning she’s probably jealous of Katherine.”

  Scott smiled. “Nah, I don’t know.” Uncomfortable with the subject, Scott asked, “So you bummed about the cruise almost being over?”

  “Me? No, I know it’s crazy, but I miss Reno. I miss the mountains.”

  “Really? I pictured you staying in here in Florida, finding a beach and becoming a beach bum.”

  “Ha ha.”

  Just then the double doors were pushed open. A woman in a waitress uniform ushered the group inside. Round tables had been set up for most of the guests, with one long table for the future bride and groom and those actually in the wedding. Name cards indicated who sat where. Naturally, Alex was seated on Sophie’s one side and Kimy was seated on the other side. Scott wasn’t thrilled to see that he was sitting next to Kimy. At least Jason was on his other side.

  Beer, wine, and food flowed freely and the atmosphere was happy and excited. Someone wondered out loud how the wedding reception could be any more enjoyable than the rehearsal dinner was turning out to be. The mood changed slightly when one of the guests, a little old lady, made the mistake of asking Sophie about her wedding dress.

  “I heard you had some trouble with your dress, dear? Don’t worry about that—lots of brides put on a few pounds before the wedding.”

  The woman next to the lady discreetly shushed her. “She didn’t put on weight, Nene. It has a rip in it.”

  “Oh that’s too bad,” said Nene. “But the ship has a tailor, right?”

  Sophie sighed. This was not something she wanted to think or talk about. She smiled at Nene.

  “Yes, I’m sure it will be fine. It wasn’t a terrible rip. Just enough to be a nuisance.” She looked at Scott, but he hadn’t been listening. He wasn’t a big drinker—maybe the occasional pitcher of beer while out with Jason. But during dinner he’d had a lot of wine. He’d thought his size and dinner would have soaked up the alcohol, but it hadn’t. Scott knew he was drunk and thought happily of Katherine waiting in bed back in the cabin. While beer made Scott sleepy, wine made him horny.

  Scott downed another glass and looked at Kimy through blurred eyes. She was smiling. And then he realized why. Kimy’s hand was on his leg and slowly moving up. Scott looked down. He watched, as if mesmerized, as her fingers worked the zipper on his pants. Then her hand slid inside his pants and circled his penis, which quickly grew hard. He looked over at Jason, but Jason was talking to an attractive bridesmaid. Scott looked around the table. Nobody, thankfully, seemed to have noticed the hand job he was getting under the table.

  Scott’s mind and body conflicted, his mind slow, but aware that he should stop Kimy, his body aroused and wanting more. He grabbed Kimy’s wrist and yanked her hand out of his pants.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” she whispered in his ear, gently biting his earlobe. “Nobody has to know. We can go to my room. Don’t you remember how it was between us?”

  Scott did remember. Sex had never been a problem; it had always been mind-blowing. He zipped his pants and stood. He made a slight bow toward Sophie and Alex.

  “I’ll see you two crazy kids tomorrow.”

  “Oh, why are you going so soon?” asked Alex.

  Scott smiled. “Because I’m very drunk,” he answered. And I have a hard-on, he didn’t say.

  Kimy stood. “I’ll walk you back to your cabin.” She looked at Alex. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t fall overboard.” She looked at Sophie; they smiled knowingly at each other. Kimy put her arm through Scott’s. They left and walked toward the elevator.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Kimy,” Scott said.

  “What?”

  “You know what. I don’t know what you think is going to happen, but it’s not.”

  Kimy took her arm out of Scott’s. His back facing the elevator, she stood in front of him. “What’s the big deal? I was just having some fun,” she said.

  ***

  Instead of going to the suite, Katherine went back to the room and took some aspirin. She sat on the bed, perplexed. That Kimy would go to such lengths to make her look bad, that she thought she had any chance of getting Scott into bed, had Katherine’s pulse racing with anger, and something else—confusion. She loved Scott but couldn’t help wondering if what they had together was worth all the drama.

  Her eyes rested on one of Scott’s shirts. She picked it up and brought it to her nose. Her heart swelled. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and she’d be dammed if Kimy got her meat claws into him. Somehow she had to clear her own name.

  If she could get a look at the dress, see how bad the damage actually was. But if she got caught anywhere near that dress everyone would think what Kimy had said, that she was returning to the scene of the crime. Katherine stood.

  ***

  Kimy wrapped her arms around Scott’s waist and pulled him closer. He looked down into her eyes. He was drunk, but not that drunk. If he slept with Kimy it would be because he wanted to—blaming it on the alcohol would just be a convenient excuse. His love for Katherine and his lust for Kimy were different, and one had nothing to do with the other. It was decision making time.

  Scott gently pulled Kimy’s arms from around his waist. He walked to a nearby table that held a pitcher of water and some cups. He poured himself a cup and gulped it down.

  “I’m going to my cabin, Kimy,” he said, “and I’m going alone.” He walked back to the elevator. Kimy tried to put her arms around him again, but he didn’t let her.

  ***

  As luck would have it, Katherine didn’t need to get into the suite. When the elevator doors opened on the tenth floor, a bellboy walked into the elevator carrying a garment bag.

  “Is that the wedding dress for the Mitchell party?” she asked.

  “Yes ma’am. I was told to take it to the ship’s seamstress.”

  Katherine thought the bellboy must have assumed she was the bride, because he went on to say, “I’m sorry I didn’t pick the dress up yesterday. There was a mix-up.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look at the tear?”

  Katherine didn’t wait for an answer or permission. She kneeled and pulled the garment bag out of the way. The tear wasn’t as bad as Scott had led her to believe. Her eyes squinted, and she peered closer at the tear. Something tiny clung to the fabric. Gently, she pulled it from the dress and placed it in the middle of her palm.

  “Are you seeing this?” she asked the bellboy.

  He nodded. “Of course. What is it?”

  Katherine didn’t answer. She thought, Got you, bitch.

  She made sure to get the bellboy’s name, in case she needed him to back up her story. Then she walked outside and stared at the ocean, contemplating her next move. Should she take Sophie aside and discreetly present her with what she’d found, then let her handle it? Should she go to the rehearsal dinner and make a huge scene? That was tempting. After all, everyone there thought she’d done the damage. At least if she went to the dinner, they’d all know she was innocent.

  ***

  When the elevator doors opened, Kimy smiled and stood on tiptoe, firmly planting her mouth on Scott’s. It took a moment before he reacted, but as Scott pushed Kimy away, he heard Katherine’s voice. She had been in the elevator when it opened.

  “What the hell is this?” she demanded.

  “It’s nothing,” said Scott. “Kimy was just …”

  “Kissing you,” said Katherine. She looked angrily at Kimy. Scott’s mother and Sophie appeared in the hallway.

  “What’s going on?” asked Sophie.

  “Well,” said Katherine. “I came down to tell you it was Kimy who tore your dress, not me, and I found these two kissing.”

  “Katherine,” said Scott, his words slurred. “She kissed me. I swear.”
<
br />   “What do you mean Kimy tore my dress?” said Sophie.

  “Don’t listen to her. She’s nuts,” said Kimy. “She’d say anything.”

  Scott’s mother walked over. “Katherine,” she said in a low voice, “Kimy is Sophie’s best friend, and she’s been a friend of our family for a number of years. Do you have any proof of what you’re saying?”

  Katherine extended her open palm, which held red chips.

  “It’s nail polish,” she said. “I ran into the bellboy—he’d just picked up her dress. I had to see for myself the damage I was being accused of doing. This was in the hem. Looks a lot like the polish Kimy’s wearing, don’t you think?”

  Sophie walked over to Kimy, grabbing her hand. “Is that how your new manicure got chipped?” asked Sophie.

  Kimy yanked her hand out of Sophie’s grasp. “No,” she said. “Who are you going to believe? You can’t trust her. That’s probably not even nail polish, and even if it is polish she’s holding, it could be hers.”

  Katherine reached into her pocket, pulled out a slip of paper, and handed it to Sophie.

  “The bellboy can back me up. This is his name. He saw me find it.”

  Sophie gave Kimy a withering look. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  She turned to Katherine. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed you. I knew Kimy was jealous of you, and that she wanted Scott back, but I didn’t think she’d stoop so low.”

  Katherine was tempted to snub Sophie, to say something snarky or rude. After all, nobody, including Sophie, had made her feel welcome or wanted. Katherine was not the type of person who needed a lot of friends; she was perfectly happy on her own. But the perceived rejection from Sophie and from Scott’s family had hurt her. These people were important to Scott, so they were important to her too.

  It took a second for her to respond and when she did she said, “It’s all right, Sophie. I get it. She’s your friend. I’m sure nobody,” Katherine made eye contact with Scott’s mother, “thought she’d stoop so low. She’d already told me she did it. I ran into her earlier. She said she’d done it to make me look bad. That Scott would never marry a woman his family disliked.”

  Scott’s mother took Katherine’s hand in hers.

  “I’m sorry, Katherine. I haven’t really given you a chance, have I? Why don’t you come inside? Have some dinner?”

  Katherine smiled and was tempted, but she looked at Scott and knew what she wanted to do. “No thanks. I think I’m going to get Scott back to the room.”

  She walked over to Kimy and softly repeated the words Kimy had said earlier, “All I want is Scott back in my bed. We’ve always had amazing chemistry.”

  She smiled at Kimy’s angry expression, then grabbed Scott’s hand and pulled him into the elevator. As the doors shut, she could hear Sophie shouting at Kimy.

  ***

  It was dark in the cabin, except for the moonlight shining through the small porthole window. Jack looked down at Marni as she slept. It was hard to regret what happened. It had seemed out of his control, but he knew that was another lie. He knew what he’d done could cost him his career. If he didn’t find Pam Larsen’s killer, if it turned out that Marni was somehow involved, and anyone from his chain of command found out they’d slept together, he’d be through. Jack looked at the bedside clock; it was after eleven. Inching out of bed, he quietly started to dress.

  Pulling the door shut slowly behind him, he turned to walk toward the elevator and almost collided with Amy. The look on Amy’s face sent waves of pain and regret through Jack’s body. What had he done?

  “Amy.”

  Amy looked toward the door Jack had walked out of, then back at him. Jack had seen heartbreak on her face moments ago, but it was quickly replaced with anger.

  “Bastard.”

  She turned and went into her cabin, slamming the door behind her. Jack looked back at Marni’s door, then at Amy’s a few down and thought, are you fucking kidding me?

  Jack took the elevator to his floor and walked toward his room. He was startled to hear his name called out. He stopped walking, turned, and smiled. It was Chef Philippe.

  “Good evening, Chef. How are you tonight?”

  “I’m not good. Things are out of control now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, first my cakes were being destroyed. Now it’s my pies.”

  “Your pies? Your pies are being destroyed?”

  “Yes. The apple ones this morning, the blueberry pies this evening.”

  Jack felt exhausted. He had no idea why anyone would want to destroy baked goods and didn’t know what to tell the chef.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ll send someone down to the kitchen tomorrow to talk to you.”

  Jack went to his cabin. He flopped down on his twin-size bed. He didn’t want to think about pies or cakes, or about the fact that at least two killers were freely roaming the ship. He didn’t want to think about the almost animal attraction he had for Marni, the heartbreak he’d seen on Amy’s face, or how that had made him feel. It was late, and all he wanted was sleep.

  ***

  When the graveyard shift guys walked into the office, Jojo groaned with relief. It had been a typically quiet night. Not so much as one drunk.

  “Last night for you guys, huh?” said one of them.

  Jojo and Bobby pushed out their chairs and stood. “Yep, we don’t work tomorrow,” answered Bobby. “Then we get off in Tampa.”

  The men shook hands and Jojo and Bobby left the office and walked to the elevators. Jojo pushed the button. “Do you want to go eat?” he asked.

  “You had that big sub sandwich,” answered Bobby. “I don’t know where you put it.”

  Jojo pushed the elevators button again then turned to face Bobby. “I’m a growing boy,” he said, then patted his flat stomach. “Have to eat.” He pretended to puff out his chest like a body builder. “Ladies love my buff bod.”

  “Yeah right, whatever,” Bobby said. “Listen, I forgot my mug.”

  “All right, I’ll see you later,” said Jojo. He watched Bobby jog back to security. After a few minutes, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Jojo backed up.

  If the cafeteria didn’t close at nine or the security office had been even a few feet closer, maybe someone would have heard his screams as he fell down the elevator shaft to his death. The elevator dinged again, and the doors shut.

  ***

  Jack was awakened by the sound of someone frantically knocking on his cabin door. He looked over at the clock on his nightstand. Midnight. What now? he wondered. He’d just fallen asleep. When he opened his door he was surprised to see Frank, whose face was flushed and sweaty, his usual composure gone. He entered Jack’s cabin.

  “What’s going on, Frank?”

  “It’s bad, Jack. It’s Jojo. He’s dead.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, a freak accident. Something went wrong with the elevator. He fell. He’s dead.”

  Jack jumped up and quickly dressed.

  “Let’s go.”

  ***

  When Jack and Frank walked into the infirmary, Jack’s eyes were immediately drawn to the far end of the room. A white sheet covered Jojo, a bloody baseball cap lay nearby.

  “You don’t want to look, Jack,” said the doctor. “He’s mangled up pretty bad.”

  “But he did die from the fall, correct?” asked Jack.

  The doctor looked at him, confused. “Yes. Of course. What do you mean?”

  “Oh nothing.”

  The doctor walked over to the body. “No, I’ve examined him. He definitely died from the fall. What a shame. So young.”

  The doctor was trying to calm down Bobby with little success. He was shaking and seemed close to hysterics. Jack sat in a chair next to him.

  “Bobby, get a grip. Tell me what happened.”

  “I went back for my coffee mug. Jojo wanted something to eat and didn’t want to wait. When I came back out, I pushed the eleva
tor button, the door opened, but I saw right away there was no bottom. There was no bottom!”

  Jack looked at the doctor, who was preparing a syringe. Jack assumed it was something to calm Bobby.

  “You’d better prepare two of those,” said Frank. “If it’s what I think it is, you’ll need another when Mr. Smalls gets here.”

  Jack stood. “I’m sorry, Frank,” he said. “This must be hard on you too. I know you worked with Jojo a while.”

  Frank didn’t answer. As he walked over to the body, Jack stayed back out of respect.

  “I worked with these knuckleheads a year,” said Frank. He looked over his shoulder at Jack. “They were going to open up a coffee place. What a waste.”

  “I think we should go talk to maintenance,” said Jack. “See if they’ve had chance to look at the elevator yet, find out if they know what the hell happened.”

  Jack bent down, putting his hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “You hang in there, buddy. We’re going to find out what happened.”

  Bobby’s eyes had started to glaze over. He looked at Jack then at Frank. His lips moved, but no words came out. Jack moved closer.

  “Be careful,” whispered Bobby.

  Jack and Frank passed the elevator on their way to the maintenance office, which was at the other end of the same hallway as the infirmary. An out of order sign and yellow tape, that crisscrossed to form a large X, had been placed on the doors.

  The maintenance office was filled with people, all talking loudly. When Jack and Frank walked in, an older man approached them. He held out his hand and introduced himself as Peter Doyle, maintenance superintendent.

  “This is some messed up shit, Jack,” he said. “I’ve worked maintenance on this ship for six years. Those elevators never gave me an ounce of trouble. Now this.”

  “Well what happened?” asked Jack.

  “For some reason the elevator got stuck one floor up. The doors shouldn’t have opened, but obviously they did. This is an old ship. It needs some serious upgrades, elevators included. Good news is it won’t take long to fix. We’ll have it working by the morning.”