Cruise to Critique (Lucky & Led Cruise Ship Mystery Series Book 5)

by David P. Remy

  “I see. Well, yes, I’d be delighted to sit down with you. How about later this evening after dinner or early tomorrow morning? Whatever is more convenient for you.”

  “Actually, early tomorrow would be best. Right after my morning service."

  “OK, let's make that our plan. Where is the service held?"

  “It can vary, but the daily schedule has me in the lounge on Deck Five for tomorrow, at eight."

  "Perfect. I'll meet you there. The Deck Five lounge about eight, then. Oh, you wouldn't mind if I attended the service, would you? I may be a bit rusty with the prayers,” Samantha blushed.

  "No problem. Didn't it ever strike you how often the Church uses oil? It has a lot of experience with rusty believers. I’ll make sure I bring a vial of holy oil in the morning for the occasion." Lucky grinned as Samantha turned to leave with a strangely quizzical look on her face.

  Lucky closed the door and whistled. Surprising beginning to a weekend cruise he thought as he repaired to his unfinished business. Backing up with an armful of pastel color pullover shirts, he accidentally knocked over the small glass top table sitting next to the pale green couch.

  Samantha didn’t hear the table hit the floor in Lucky’s room but she did feel the bump against her arm as a man suddenly dashed from around the lobby entrance into which she was headed. After the stars faded from her startled sight, her jaw dropped.

  “You! What are you doing? Following me?” Samantha hurled the accusatory questions at the object of her collision.

  “Why, Samantha, isn’t this magnificent ship big enough for the both of us?” replied Rex Riddle. “Or are you feeling guilty about something?”

  “The only thing I feel is disgust that you finagled your way into my assignment. You...you...poor loser.” Samantha knew she’d gone over the edge with that remark.

  “Sticks and stones...but, you know the rest, don’t you, Samantha. You’re a journalist used to casting stones at reputations; stellar ones, I may add.”

  “Your reputation didn’t require any barrage of stones. You tore yourself down with each shoddy article. Refresh your memory by reading the reader responses to your drivel.”

  “Everyone has a right to their opinion, Samantha, and your view is recorded in the wrong column. You wouldn’t know a well written review if you read one that had won a Pulitzer prize. And, don’t get your hopes up, you articles will never receive that distinction.”

  “My, my, aren’t we being a bit catty, Rex, even for you? Let’s just cut out the hyperbole and write our reviews. Let the Boss decide who can write the best review. Fair enough?”

  “OK, Samantha, I’ll go along with that. Just make sure that you make the deadline with your review. No one knows what could happen to delay your finishing the assignment. Accidents do occur even on cruises in the Caribbean.” Rex sauntered off toward the dining room for tea time snacks.

  “Don’t threaten me, Mister Rex Has-Been Riddle,” Samantha stage whispered to his back. “We’ll see who makes or misses the deadline for next week’s Deco Beach Weekly T & L critique review of this cruise.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The sun had reached its zenith and so had Led’s hormonal drive exceeded its vertex driving him to find the most awesome girl on the pool deck. Like one-eyed Gort, the robot in the movie “The Day the Earth Stood Still”, his two eyes projected a single razor beam scan of the bodies lusciously splayed out horizontally on the dozens of chaise lounges. Surveying back and forth until...yes, there...not one, but two...a duet of the hottest babes he could imagine and relaxing side by side.

  “Hello, Ladies. Mind if I settle in next to you for a bit of the sunshine. Actually, I could sit in the shade next to you since your beauty far outshines the sun.” Led flashed his award winning smile. The ladies looked at each other and giggled.

  “Well, we could hardly refuse someone with an ice breaker as hot as that,” Yolanda gushed. “Anyway, there isn’t like a horde of other fans rushing the door.”

  “Cool. Well, hi, name’s Led Daley, Ladies, your greatest fan, now at your service.”

  “Hi, Led, I’m Yolanda and this is Marsha, my work mate and travel companion for the weekend. Are you with any other guys possessing your style of the southern gentleman? It’d be a pleasure to spend the weekend with you all.” Yolanda was surprisingly gracious but she had also figured they had less than three days to connect and the cruise clock was ticking. Use the opportunity or lose it, she figured.

  “Not so fast, Yo, I could get into this one myself, if you don’t mind,” Marsha winked at Led as she poked Yolanda.

  “Now, now, Ladies, let’s not fight over me already. I got enough to go around for the both of you. Hey, do you plan on any snorkeling or diving? I hear Grand Cayman is awesome for diving?” Led wanted to nail down a follow up to this delightful event as soon as possible; he didn’t want to allow time for the ladies to change their minds or let any competition get a foothold.

  “I’d love to snorkel and have done a bit of diving,” Yolanda replied.

  “Super. I’m certified for any diving they have around Grand Cayman. I checked the island website and researched the requirements. We wouldn’t have any difficulty getting a dive to one of the sunken ships off shore.” Led was on his game.

  “I don’t know about diving, but I would enjoy snorkeling,” Marsha added. “Could you help me with the snorkeling if we did it? I’d feel safe having your strong arms wrapped around me,” Marsha smiled as she reached over and rubbed Led’s arm.

  “Sure thing. I’ll get you snorkeling and then Yolanda and I will do the dive. That way we would all stay together and could keep an eye out for each other. Cool.” Led wanted to include both his delicious discoveries and wrap up the weekend surrounded with two fine ladies, one for each available arm.

  The pool attendant strolled through the chaise lounges offering the Welcome Aboard drink, a cherry banana pina Colada, with souvenir glass included, $7.95 plus tip. Led sprang for three of them and toasted his and the ladies new found relationship. Yolanda was thoroughly focused on Led and enjoyed the male companionship; on the other hand, Marsha’s thoughts were once again consumed with that inferno package she was saddled with. The diving and snorkeling in Grand Cayman, though, just might fit into her assignment to pass off the package. Once done, she would be rid of the anchor around her neck and be done with this bit of nuisance blackmail.

  On the bridge, the Captain received the awaited phone call that all was ready and everyone was standing by for the on time sail away. The stevedores had placed the stores aboard and the lines were being let loose. A routine departure was assured. The warm, balmy, brilliant sunshine produced the meteorological stats that confirmed the pet name: Florida--The Sunshine State. The Master of the ship, Captain Peggy Hurley, basked both in the light of the late afternoon sun and her standing as the first female Master of a Royal Danish Cruise ship...no mean achievement.

  Her rise to the top was far from brisk and sometimes brutal. The glass ceiling was a reality; in this instance the material on the ceiling was made out of generations of frozen ice deeply embedded male domination. A woman’s place was any place save on a ship and never in the position of command. So went the accepted, but the unspoken rule of the sea. Wasn’t Poseidon the undisputed Greek God of the sea? No wimpy female need apply.

  Obviously, the sailors embracing this prejudice never bothered to read the full story in Greek mythology. If they had, they would have been made aware of Amphitrite, the Greek queen goddess of the sea. Somewhat in their defense, the holders of the view of the male domination of sailing might have been swayed instead by the mythology of the Roman tradition. Neptune, the Roman God of the Sea, had a wife, Salacia who was considered a lesser goddess of salt water. A fine distinction but it worked in the sea going culture to keep the guy on top... so to speak.

  Looking down on the pier from her perch on the bridge wing, she caught sight of a last minute arrival. Just moments before the gang plank was hoisted, the fi
nal guest was hurriedly making his way toward the boarding kiosk. Bearing only an over the shoulder bag and a bulky case, the middle age man seemed intent on rushing the personnel responsible for the security and the boarding check-in process.

  Chief Inspector Sanjay Mehta, along with the Captain, took special notice of this passenger. Mehta’s years of experience prompted him to be wary of last minute rush incidents. Often they were an attempt to distract security and slip something or someone by their watchful eye; sort of akin to the magician’s stock in trade. He wasn’t about to be duped by any amateurish ploy, not with his retirement staring him in the face.

  “Good afternoon, Sir. There’s no need to rush. The ship won’t pull away for a few minutes, yet,” Sanjay cautioned.

  “Of course. Excuse me for scrambling on board like this. I’m afraid I’m always attempting to catch up with my life and, sadly, lose the race most of the time,” he chuckled.

  Sanjay smiled. “Well, I hope that you find the cruise will help you relax and win a race or two.” He pointed to the deck. “If you’ll stand on those yellow footprints, we’ll get your picture. It’ll be matched with the cruise passport card you received from the reception desk. Helps us identify you as our guest when you leave or come back aboard the ship from the port calls. I’m sure you understand our need for security these days, Sir.” Sanjay was well practiced with fronting genteel customer relations.

  “Absolutely. Can’t be too careful, can we?” The guest looked into the camera, but did not offer the usual touristy smile. All business, this one, Sanjay observed astutely.

  When the mug shot was achieved, the bell chimed out from the kiosk indicating approval. “Ok, Sir, that does it,” Sanjay said as he handed the guest his ID sailing passport card. “Excuse me, Sir, one more thing. I'll need to run your carry ons through the security screening. Just place your shoulder bag and that other case onto the belt."

  The belt began pulling the two items forward under the hood shielding the Xray. A warning beep went off and Sanjay stepped up to the offending case. "We'll need to open this case. Just a precaution since our security machine found some metal it didn't like," Sanjay flashed a PR smile.

  "Oh, that would be OK, Inspector. It's just an old fashioned metal typewriter. I bring it along everywhere as it's part of my job. It gets beeped all the time. Sorry about that."

  Sanjay used the wand on the typewriter and, sure enough, it set off the alarm. Closing the case, Sanjay nodded to his security mate and passed the case back to the boarding guest.

  "I hope you enjoy slowing down a bit during the cruise. And, remember to take time to stop and smell the ocean. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  “I thought this was the Caribbean Sea, not the ocean,” the guest half heatedly remarked.

  With a quick peek at the kiosk’s monitor, Sanjay took note of the guest’s name. “All a matter of reference, Sir. Well, even in the rush of your last minute arrival anxiety, you took a winning picture, Sir”

  The guest grabbed the cruise card and stuck it in his carry on. As he set afoot briskly down the deck and was about to go through the entrance into the lobby, Sanjay, to his back, shouted out, with an emphasis on the word “Caribbean”, “and welcome on board the beautiful Caribbean Star, Mr. Conners.”

  Lucky found the usual “Welcome Aboard” letter from the Cruise Director and Activities Manager sitting on the desk in his stateroom. Reading the contents of the form letter, bearing only a change of the Chaplain’s name, he noted that the organizational meeting would take place following the mandatory boat drill that afternoon.

  Lucky’s mind was distracted when he saw the notice of the boat drill. The boat drill would most likely be posted at the top of the “hate list” of every cruiser’s evaluation. Necessary, yes, but still abhorred by ninety nine percent of the guests. Lucky had observed the guests casting their negative vote of this perceived inconvenience by the corporate body language. He knew that without fail the guests would arrive late at their boat station, some exhibiting a surly attitude, even after several announcements had been made by Captain Hurley about its importance. Lucky would admit that the drill was not one of the highlights of the cruise.

  He re-folded the letter and stuck it in his pocket. It contained names and ship phone numbers for the CD and the Activities Manager which he would need to know and use in the days on board. Then, checking his watch, he saw that he only had a few minutes to grab a bite and head to his lifeboat station. He hoped Led would respond to the announcement.

  Lucky reached his designated lifeboat station with a goodly number of other guests already assembled...grumbling. He was not surprised that his traveling mate was not in attendance. Being late was a religion with Led. Finally, after the boat’s whistle blew its prescribe number of long and short sounds as the signal of an emergency, Led appeared trotting down the deck with head swinging back and forth looking for the correct number station. He spotted Lucky.

  “OK, young man, I’m glad you didn’t have your head underwater in the hot tub when the boat drill announcements were made,” Lucky whispered to Led as he finally squeezed into the rank next to Lucky.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know all the drills; I’m EMT certified, you know, Old Man. I’ve been through all the training,” Led crowed out as loudly as he could without it becoming an all call announcement.

  “Oh, you’re EMT qualified? Responded an elderly gray haired woman standing next in line to Led.

  “Just passed my test for national certification with flying colors.” Led thought it apropos to use a nautical phrase. “I could work anywhere in the country now with my qualifications,” Led smiled proudly.

  “That’s wonderful, I’ll keep my eye on you in case we have any emergency,” the lady purred as she rubbed up and down Led’s arm.

  “No problem, Madam, Led to the rescue every time.” This was becoming embarrassing Lucky thought, but youth knows no bounds when it comes to boasting.

  “Yes, Led, I think that is enough advertising of your skills. Next you’ll be handing out a business card with the stateroom number on it. Oh, make sure the Captain gets one. I’m sure that she’ll be calling you a lot.” Lucky was only half kidding with his sarcasm.

  “I already have my business card. I’ll just change the phone number from my home to our stateroom,” Led retorted to Lucky’s sarcasm. Led began to pull a card out of his wallet, “here, I’ll start with this one.”

  “You will not, Young Man.” Lucky assumed Led was teasing, but sometimes he wasn’t too sure if Led was serious or not; he cast a cautious eye in Led’s direction as he knew that to assume spelled making an “ass” (out of) “u” (and) “me”.

  “Don’t worry, Old Man, I’m on a weekend holiday. No emergencies coming my way if I have anything to say about it. Led put the card back into his wallet and grinned from ear to ear.

  “I have a meeting right after this drill with the Activities Manager in the champagne bar, Led. Did you want to meet up for dinner or do you have your own plans?”

  “Happy to report I've already hooked up with two of the finest ladies on the ship and they invited me to have dinner with them. You’d be welcome, I’m sure. I just don’t know it there’s another vacant seat at their table.”

  “No matter. I’d rather eat at the buffet. That will give me time to get my schedule in order and plan the services. Not much time with it being just a weekend. Thanks, anyway, my friend.”

  People were slowly making their way back to fun and games, or to the staterooms in the hopes that their luggage had been delivered. Led melted into the crowd weaving his way through the flaying arms and elbows. Lucky found himself embroiled in his own struggle to make a pathway through the crowd. Stuck in his tracks and not having much success, he overheard a somewhat heated verbal exchange coming from a small computer lounge immediately off to his right.

  “I told you that under no circumstances were you to be seen with me in public. You know I can’t be connected to this operation.”

>   “Sorry, but I was so super surprised to see you standing in the group at the next lifeboat station. Anyway, hell, there’s nobody here who knows either of us. How could anyone recognize us? Calm down. What’s the beef?”

  “The beef, as you put it, is that there are security cameras everywhere on this ship and I don’t want any video documentation that can tie the two of us together. It’s much better that way just in case there should be any slip up or inquiry resulting from the hand off in Grand Cayman. The two packages must get delivered separately and on time if this is going to pay off for any of us. Remember, your financial situation has a less than five star Dunn and Bradstreet rating.”

  “Yeah, OK, I get it. I just wanted to connect so we could exchange room numbers. The Guest Relations people won’t tell you anything and I need to know how to get a hold of you in case of any slip ups. I’m well aware of my finances. You don’t think that I want to be working at that flea bitten joint all my life, do you?”

  “Well, you just made a huge slip up and I don’t want you to do it again. Be grateful that you have that job; it’s the reason we were able to organize this little caper and set it into action. And, don’t worry, I know how to get in touch with you when it’s necessary. You need to be on that tender boat when we get to Grand Cayman and make sure that Miss Lovey Dovey is riding on that same boat with you. We need to coordinate getting those packages to the local island contacts and then off to our Asian clients. Now, get out of here.” The two parted company and walked off in opposite directions. “Remember, don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

  Lucky momentarily pondered what he had just overheard, but couldn’t relate it to anything, so the meaning of the two strangers’ banter didn’t translate into any real significance. Shaking off the incident as inconsequential, he continued to make his way to the buffet. As he thought about the incident, he was reminded of one of Led’s usual quips, “Whatever, nobody cares anyway.”