by C. L. Stone
Axel pushed me out of our stall the moment a flow of pee started. A man was at a urinal, focused on the task in front of him. I moved quickly to the door. Axel followed.
Once we were out in the hallway, Axel took my hand and we hurried to the dining room. I hoped he really did understand. Our lives were chaos, more now than ever. Relationships required time to build and we were so focused on other people that we’d never really given ourselves a deep enough look.
If Axel could understand it, then maybe the others would, too.
MYSTERY DINNER
The seating in the main dining room had already begun. Axel and I stood in a short line near the entryway. Other guests filed in behind us, chatting among themselves, complaining about having to wait. I listened, but they didn’t talk about anything else of interest and a glance over my shoulder told me none of them were from Nightingale.
I couldn’t see past the shoulders of guests in front of us into the dining room itself. The dress I wore seemed to blend in with what everyone else was wearing, at least. It was still awkward. Cruises weren’t for me. It seemed silly to get dressed up like this just to get something to eat. It was just food. It doesn’t care what you’re wearing.
The line moved slowly. Once we got to the front, we gave our names to a man in a tuxedo standing at a podium near the large doors. He checked his seating chart. “You’re sitting separately tonight, but you’re with some excellent company.” With that, he addressed a lady attendant, showed her the spot on his chart, and waved her and us away, ready for the next people in line.
It seemed Mr. Smith and Colt had won their bids to sit next to me.
“Right this way,” the woman said.
I held onto Axel for as long as I could, wishing now that we didn’t have to sit separately. I’d used up a lot of courage facing off with the boys. I sought strength in his hand as I squeezed it.
He squeezed back. He leaned in as we followed the hostess. “I won’t be far. Walk away if you get uncomfortable, no matter what’s going on.”
We waded through the busy dining room of filled tables and people getting ready to sit down. The blue and white carpet on the floor muffled heels and shifting chairs. Classical music was pipped in from speakers overhead. The volume was barely audible among the talking and chair adjusting noises. There was a podium set up on a short stage at the far end of the room. A banner hung from it, with a large letter L.
I leaned into Axel as we walked. “What’s the podium for?”
“It’s a company gathering,” he said. “So there’s probably going to be a speech of some sort.”
“From Ethan?”
He shrugged.
We were escorted to a table. I smiled politely, meeting eyeballs without actually seeing anyone. I was in a daze with all the lights, the noise, and the many faces around me. I hadn’t really understood how many people were on this ship until just now, when hundreds of them gathered now for dinner. Was this even all of them?
All the tables were round, but each seat had some good elbow room. We weren’t going to get crowded in. When the hostess showed me to my assigned seat, I finally locked in on Mr. Smith, turned to talk to someone at a table behind ours. He was in a brown sports coat, worn over a blue Hawaiian shirt. It looked weird, having a jacket over his shirt, but he was obviously too cool to care.
Colt Baker was there, too, and he stood quickly, sliding my seat out before Axel or the hostess could get to it. “Miss Kitty,” Colt said, smiling in a very easygoing way. “What an amazing transformation. I almost didn’t recognize you without a coffee stain.”
Colt was wearing dark slacks and a very light grey button up shirt with blue stripes under a blue tie. There was a dark jacket, too. The nerd in him stood out with the glasses and the way he brushed his hair, over to one side and very close to the scalp. It was different from earlier. Was this his version of dressing up for dinner? Or was he trying to impress me?
“I’m surprised to see you,” I said, and sat in the chair he held out for me, letting him slide it under. I never could get the hang of that maneuver and had to readjust a little to get closer to the table. “I thought you were leaving.”
“It seems someone convinced me I should stay,” he said, giving me a once over before locking his eyes on mine, making me self-conscious in the dress. Was it see-through? Because of the cut of it, I hadn’t worn a bra. I checked quickly and then looked up and he was still staring. He continued, “Or course, I must oblige.”
I glanced quickly at Axel, who had left my side to take his own seat, just on the other side of Colt. I was at a loss for something to say. I looked again at Colt and smiled. “I had no idea I could be so influential.”
Colt sat down, and in doing so, blocked off my view of Axel. Did he know Axel was supposed to be my boyfriend? I wasn’t sure if I should let him know, or if it would be to my advantage to flirt and not mention it. I wasn’t sure if I could with Mr. Smith around, since he’d notice right away and might say something.
“And how was the spa?” Colt asked.
“Fine,” I said, looking around the table. Blake’s chair next to Mr. Smith’s was still empty. Tara Wayward was across from me, too far to make casual conversation without yelling. She sat next to another man, the one I recognized as also being from Nightingale.
I tried to remember his name: Mr. Jones, I thought, although I couldn’t recall a first name. He was maybe in his forties, broad-chested with a protruding stomach. Ms. Wayward and he were talking, although Tara seemed disinterested, like she was only being polite. Mr. Jones was doing most of the talking, to which she gave short answers and nodded. Her eyes were on other people around us, sharp and inquisitive.
I refocused on Colt and gave him a smile. “It was a surprise from Mr. Murdock. I didn’t realize he’d scheduled me to try the hot bath. I think he’d mentioned it once and I’d said it sounded interesting.” I hoped he couldn’t go back and check and see who had made the appointment. “I was surprised he remembered and wasn’t expecting the appointment.” Lame. I was rambling. This was just awkward. Maybe I should stick with Corey in the not talking to people part of the job.
“So you’ve said.” He flicked his napkin open, dropping it into his lap.
I wasn’t sure how much I should reveal about the spa. I wondered if anyone would recognize me as the girl who was rushed naked to the ship’s clinic, and if Colt had heard about it. I struggled to come up with something else to say. I fiddled with my napkin, looking over my tableware, wondering why there were so many forks.
Someone hovered over my shoulder, and I turned to find Kevin, his black clothing neat, wearing a gold nametag with the name Jerry on it. He held out a tray containing warm wet cloths rolled up like eggrolls. I spotted other people around us taking the warm cloths and washing their hands with them. He asked Mr. Smith first. “Sir, would you like one?” Other people at the table had them. He was going around the circle.
Mr. Smith waved him off, talking again to the person at the next table about some golf tournament. Boring stuff.
Kevin turned to me. Instead of asking if I wanted one, he selected a specific roll on his tray that was off to the side with a set of metal tongs and offered it to me.
I took it, guessing there was something in it for me. Kevin moved on, distracting Colt.
I unrolled the cloth, and it was dry, not wet like the others. Inside was an ear piece and one of the tiny black boxes, like Blake’s, but this one was on a bracelet cord. I put the earpiece in quickly, and then kept my hands under the table to slip the bracelet on. It was loose, but I would be lucky if people passed it off as just a simple bracelet and not something else.
“No,” Colt was saying to Kevin. “I’m sure. Thanks, really. My hands are clean.”
Kevin moved on, checking in with me quickly. I nodded and smiled, trying to reassure him I’d put everything into place. I wondered if word had gotten to him about the stunt I’d pulled in the bathroom.
Colt resumed looking
around the table, although he shifted his chair closer to mine. “The help around here is really...helpful.”
“I think that’s their job,” I said.
“True,” he said and then turned fully toward me. He was making it obvious he wanted to talk to only me. I couldn’t even see Axel with Colt’s body taking up my whole view. “So, did you ever find your tablet?”
“No,” I said, glad he brought it up because I had forgotten I’d told him that. “I’ve asked some of the workers to find it. I filed a report with security, although I have to be honest, I don’t think they really took me seriously.” I didn’t mean to talk bad about security because I didn’t actually know they were incompetent.
“I kind of got the same feeling about them.” He picked up his water glass and took a sip. “They should take this more seriously. You were attacked physically. Other people could be in trouble. I had to report my cell phone. That was stolen today.”
I popped my lips open into an “o” shape, hoping I looked genuinely surprised. “When?” I asked. “How?”
“The last time I saw it was before I went into the kitchen, right before your tablet was stolen,” he said. “I’ve got a feeling maybe during cleaning up that mess, the thief must have been still nearby. Either I dropped it while I was helping you and it got swiped, or he picked my pocket during the chaos.”
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “It’s such a nice ship. It’s hard to believe there would be thieves on board.”
He nodded. “I have a feeling I know who it is, or who might be at least partially responsible.”
Uh oh. “Who?”
“That guy who ran into the kitchen, causing my coffee to spill, and a lot of distraction.”
Brandon. I fought a grimace, not wanting to arouse suspicion. “Well he can’t be the thief,” I said matter-of-factly. “He was right in front of you. And then in front of me during that time.”
“It makes me think he was distracting me. He did a good job redirecting the attention of everyone from the dining room, leaving you alone to get your coffee.” He tilted his head. “Is there any reason they’d want your tablet in particular?”
Should I suggest the tablet contained lots of accounts that I was trying to track down? Or maybe investment reports? I didn’t want him to learn my reputation directly from me. Safer to ask questions rather than reply. “Do you think I was targeted specifically? Like they weren’t just after a tablet, but the information on it?”
“Why steal yours like that?” he asked. “Why right then in front of everyone? Why yours in particular and not the thousand other units on this ship right now, left unattended by the pool or in staterooms?”
“Is there a reason why they’d want your cell phone?” I asked, turning it back on him. “Was there sensitive client information on it?”
He opened his mouth to answer when an older gentleman stepped onto the small stage, distracting him. I bit my cheek, silently cursing the interruption.
The man at the podium spoke into a microphone. “Thank you, thank you everyone for coming. Everyone, I know we’re not all here yet. And I know you’re hungry, but I wanted to say a few words.”
The man went on with his speech, introducing himself and talking about how great it was to see everyone and making jokes about people I didn’t know and suggesting how we should all thank Mr. Murdock, Ethan in particular, for this annual cruise week. I took the opportunity while everyone was distracted to check in with Axel, who was focused on the speaker and trying to blend in.
“Can you hear me?” A voice spoke in my ear, whispering, sounding like Blake. “Cough if you can.”
I did so, lightly, and reached for the ice water. There was no chance I could reply from where I was now.
“Good,” he said. “I’m walking around the ship for now. I’ll show up for dinner in a little bit. I just followed the blond man who met with another older gentleman and took money from him, too. I’m seeing where the crewman goes now.”
Sam, the German blond staff member was up to something, even if he might not be working for Eddie. I wanted to tell Blake to be careful, but I couldn’t while I was sitting at the table, possibly with eyes on me.
“By the way,” he said, “nice job earlier. I think what you did really fixed things. Brandon, Corey, Marc and Raven...they didn’t glare at me once and from what Doyle says, they’re avoiding talking about you completely right now. I think you freaked them out. They don’t know what to do with themselves.”
Was that good? Maybe I’d gone too far and they were distracted. When everything settled down, would they be angry?
“I heard what Colt said about Brandon,” he said. “I’ll tell him to lay low and stay away from Colt. We don’t need Colt trying to question him. He’s not in the dining room yet, but I may have him switch places with Marc.”
That was a good thing.
Colt turned back around, looking at me. I smiled, and he leaned in to whisper, “I think this is the same speech from last year. Don’t you think so?”
Uh oh. Do I dare suggest I was on the ship before? No, I’d told Mr. Smith it was my first one and he was sitting right next to me. I shrugged, grinning instead of answering.
Colt leaned his elbow on the table getting closer. He had a curious glint in his eyes. Was he trying to flirt? “You know, I don’t remember seeing you around before.”
I adjusted the little black bracelet on my wrist under the table. I needed to be vague. “Well, there are a lot of people here,” I said. “And I suppose it’s easy to miss someone.”
“No,” he said, the curve of his lip deepening, his smile becoming more playful. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen you at all. I’d have remembered your face.”
I was going to make some sort of funny comment about his flirting, but then I had to channel Kitty Lane, the meek and nerdy little girl.
I tried to blush, thinking of embarrassing things, like the scene at the hot bath earlier. I bowed my head. “I’m not that memorable.” Appearing humble, and yet fishing for compliments.
“Sweetheart, you’re unforgettable,” Blake said in my ear. “But don’t let him get too close. I don’t think I could handle any more competition.”
“I think you are very memorable,” Colt said, keeping his smile. “Maybe tomorrow night, instead of this, we should check out another one of the restaurants. I’m pretty fond of the Italian one.”
There was a nudge at my arm on the other side of me. I turned and Mr. Smith leaned toward us. His hook nose was wrinkled and his whiskey breath blew into our faces. “He should be fond of that restaurant,” he said. “Given his father--”
“Mr. Smith,” Colt said quickly, interrupting and sitting up straighter. His eyes were wide, bugging out in alarm. “Where did you get that whiskey? They haven’t been by to ask me yet. I’m dying here.”
“You’re not going to need any,” he said, leaning against my arm into my space, making me very uncomfortable. He spoke directly to Colt, ignoring me. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s got a boyfriend; the guy right behind you.”
“Seems like Colt’s father is a sensitive topic,” Blake said. “He tried to cover that up pretty quickly. I’ll ask Doyle to do some research. Colt Baker might not be the innocent we think he is.”
I pressed my teeth together, shifting my chair back, giving room to Mr. Smith if he was going to force his way in so he wouldn’t end up in my lap. “I, uh, yes...”
Colt started to mumble an apology but Mr. Smith interrupted. “And what’s this I hear about your tablet being stolen.”
Before I could answer, Colt cut in. “It was. She said there was sensitive information on it. She reported it stolen but--”
“What?” Mr. Smith said louder, drawing attention from Ms. Wayward and Mr. Jones, not to mention people from other tables. “Don’t tell me it had confidential financial information.”
“How does that matter to you?” Colt asked.
“I have it backed up,” I said quickly. Uh oh. T
his was getting dangerous. Mr. Smith was clearly drunk and if he thought there was a chance his investments could be stolen by tablet thieves, then I could be in big trouble. “And it’s encrypted. I can manage without it and continue my work. It’s just an inconvenience.”
“I don’t know if that’s the case,” Colt said. “They seemed pretty determined to steal it from you and get away. Are you sure they can’t access the information?”
I flared my eyes and then looked down to hide it. He wasn’t helping.
“It’s none of your business, Colt,” Mr. Smith said, spitting at the T sound in Colt’s name. He pointed at me. “If I were you, I’d make sure you get that tablet back before you leave the ship. Have every one of those crewmen...even the guests’ rooms searched. Mr. Murdock would be very upset if even a bit of information was discovered to be unsecured.”
“We certainly can’t just go accusing everyone,” Colt said.
“Funny, maybe it was you,” Mr. Smith said. “And I believe I told you to butt out. You clearly don’t know how to keep your nose out of other people’s business.”
“My phone was stolen, too,” Colt said.
Suddenly, the speech ended and everyone clapped. Colt looked around and started clapping a little but then gave an evil glare to Mr. Smith.
Mr. Smith leaned back against his chair. He reached for the glass of whiskey near his plate and downed the rest. Then he leaned into me, and whispered in my ear. “Get that tablet back, or I’ll make sure Murdock Senior hears about this.”
I gulped. Did he know where Mr. Murdock was? Was that a hint that he had a clue? Well, I wasn’t going to get away without having a tablet at this point. I’d have to get one from somewhere. “It really doesn’t have much information on it,” I said quietly to him. All the information I had was what Ethan had. I didn’t know enough information to help him. “It’s not going to be any good without Mr. Murdock here anyway. He gave me account numbers, not names. I couldn’t tell you what money goes to who, if that’s what you’re worried about.”