by K. J. Emrick
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve tried talking to you about this mystery and still you—”
“Cookie, please, not this again.”
“See? You’re still doing it now!”
Jerry had the good sense to look contrite. “I didn’t mean it like that, Cookie. Look I’m worried about you, all right? I’m always worried that somehow my job is going to spill over into my personal life and affect you, or get you into trouble, or worse get you hurt. Now here we are trapped on a ship with a murderer and what do you do? You throw yourself right into the thick of it.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. He was worried about her? Dear God in Heaven, she’d been taking care of herself for years before he decided to draw her out of the comfortable cocoon she’d wrapped around herself. Now that he’d basically inserted himself into her life… now, he was going to worry about what it did to her?
“You can’t treat me like a child,” she told him.
“I don’t mean to. Honest.” He ran a hand over his scalp, through his hair, resting it at the back of his neck. “If we could maybe just go back to the cabin and talk for a bit I really need to say some things to you.”
Before he had the chance to finish Cookie had turned away and started back down the passageway. Cream whined a little question at her but she ignored him. She didn’t trust her voice right then. He had some things to say? No doubt he did. She just didn’t want to hear them.
Halfway up the hall was a door marked with the silhouette of a stick figure in a dress and the word “Women” painted in fancy script. Well. Let him try to follow her in here!
She pushed through the swinging door and didn’t stop until she was at the far end of the row of seven sinks, at the one set lower down and with an angled mirror for passengers in a wheelchair. Jerry didn’t follow her, thank God, because what a scene it would have been for him to stroll into the women’s bathroom just because he wanted to protect her like a china doll!
Cream squirmed in her arms and she set him down without his leash. His claws clacked against the tiles on the floor as he went snuffing and exploring. There wasn’t anyone else in there at the moment, so they had the space to themselves. That was just as well as far as Cookie was concerned. It gave her a chance to wet a paper towel and blot it around her eyes where her mascara had started to run from unshed tears. It also gave her a moment to just breathe. She was beginning to feel like she was suffocating around Jerry. She hated feeling like that with him. They’d been so good together for so long and she’d started to think of him as her rock. Now… she just didn’t know.
Her cell phone buzzed with a text message. She’d read in the brochure that the ship actually had its own cell tower providing coverage to passengers, although the rates were astronomical. She wouldn’t be making any phone calls while she was onboard, that was for sure. Texts were a little more reasonable but she was still reluctant to open this one up, knowing it would be from Jerry, with either a lame attempt at a non-apology or else him telling her all the reasons why she needed to come out of the bathroom right now and do things his way.
Only, when she looked at the name, it wasn’t Jerry. It was Avery Basford.
Everything ok? The screen asked her. You left in a hurry. Wanted to check and see if you needed an thing.
An thing? Oh, she chuckled. If she needed anything. He must have missed a letter.
Sorry, said a new text. Not so good with phone texts. Big hands. Small butts.
There was a pause while she tried not to burst out laughing.
Buttons! She could almost hear the anxiety in his voice as he hurried to correct that mistake. There’s nothing wrong with the size of my butt.
Cookie leaned back against the sink. She was smiling uncontrollably. She’d never had a chance to do stuff like this when she was a young girl. Cellphones had only been the stuff of science fiction back in those days. She’d seen Clarissa trade text after text after text with her boyfriend Hamish and she had always understood the attraction to flirting like this but she’d never been the one doing the texting before.
Flirting? She blinked at herself in the mirrors. Was that what was happening here?
A part of her really hoped so.
How did you even get my number? she sent to him.
Uh… it’s complicated. A friend of mine has developed an app. It’s not on the market yet and I’m kind of beta testing it for him. Short explanation… My phone captures names and numbers of newby phones when I tell it to.
She assumed by “newby” he actually meant “nearby.” Now when, she wondered, did he tell his phone to grab her phone number… it must have been when they were walking on the track. He must have already been thinking about seeing her again.
Well. That was a first for her. The most Jerry had ever done was come into her shop every morning and buy a muffin and make small talk while he worked up the nerve to tell her that he liked her. If Cookie hadn’t made a move of her own they never would have gotten together.
Somehow it felt right to have a guy make a move on her.
Free for dinner tonight? his next text asked.
Her fingers almost dropped her phone. He was asking her out. On a real date. Wow. Just… wow. It was more than Jerry had done. Except for Jessica’s wedding, Jerry hadn’t suggested they go anywhere or do anything on the ship.
Poised to tap out a reply, she hesitated. What should she say? She was still with Jerry. Sort of. At least, they were sharing a cabin together. Sort of. Except he hadn’t come back there at all last night and he hadn’t even left her a note or a text or a voicemail saying where he was.
It might make things even more awkward between them, she scolded herself, but all Avery was asking for was dinner. Just dinner. With a man she hardly knew. It wasn’t like she was going to bring Avery home with her at the end of the cruise.
It couldn’t hurt to say yes. What was the worst that could happen?
Yes, she said. I’m free. How’s six o’clock sound?
***
Once again, Cream had to be left behind.
“Don’t worry,” Cookie had reassured him, scratching under his chin, “when we get back home you’ll have the run of the shop. How’s that sound?”
His little bark had told her it sounded fine to him, and so off she went. She’d already changed into the slacks she had intended for nights of dancing, and a purple top that she’d been saving for the cruise. Now, sitting in the Fireplace Lounge at a table and waiting for Avery, Cookie couldn’t help but remember the look on Jerry’s face when he had caught back up to her at the cabin and walked in to find her putting in her pearl earrings and fussing with her hair. He’d stared at her reflection in the mirror in the bathroom, and then turned right around and left, mumbling that he had to go talk to the captain.
The candle at her table had burned down several centimeters, dripping lines of wax, before Avery arrived. She saw him coming across the floor, weaving between other tables as piano music filtered through the dimly lit room. A man in a tuxedo sat playing a real piano over in the corner, adding his voice to every other song. He was pretty good, Cookie thought. It definitely set the mood.
So did seeing how truly handsome Avery looked in a jacket and black striped tie. It wasn’t fair that men looked so good in suits. Women had to primp and preen and all a man had to do was put on a black jacket and a tie.
An image formed in her mind of Avery, in that black coat and striped tie. Just the coat and tie.
Stop it, she chided herself. This is just a dinner. You aren’t hooking up, as Clarissa would say.
By the time he reached the table she had her mind back in this moment. He apologized over and over for being late, saying there was something he had to take care of.
“Don’t worry about it,” she told him, even though she had been starting to feel stood up. “Are you travelling with anyone?”
Subtle, she thought, mentally kicking herself for not finding a better way of asking
if he was single and here by himself.
“There’s no one with me,” he assured her, correctly reading the real reason behind her question. “Every year I come out here with Chaz to see the sights. We’ve been to almost every island in the Caribbean, and to Hawai’i, and a few other places that aren’t worth mentioning. It’s fun.”
“You must be independently wealthy,” she decided.
“Well, believe it or not, I am. I work for myself, and I make good money at it. Let’s not talk about business, though. You and I won’t have all that long together and I don’t want to spend it talking about myself.”
She blushed. She actually felt the heat across her face and tried to hide behind the long rectangle of the menu to keep him from seeing. A man who wanted to spend his attention on her, instead of talking about himself. Well. Would wonders never cease? She pulled herself up. That thought hadn’t been very fair to Jerry. He had been interested in her at one point.
The waitress came and filled their water glasses and took a drink order, promising to take their dinner order when she brought back the glasses of white wine. Avery started her talking about little things, and then soon he was telling a long story about the time he caught a lamprey eel while fishing. She told him about her bakery, and about Cream. He told her about finding Chaz in a shelter as a puppy.
By the time they were halfway through their meals, they knew enough about each other to be old friends.
“That’s why,” he said, flourishing his hand with the telling of the story, “I don’t go to Cape Cod anymore.”
She laughed, and it felt so good to laugh that she did it again. “That’s quite the story. Is any of it true?”
“Most of it, believe it or not. So, tell me Cookie.” He pushed a piece of steak around his plate to soak up the sauce. “You asked if I was by myself. I think it’s only fair for me to ask. The man I saw you with today? Are the two of you… together?”
She had been really hoping he wouldn’t ask that question. There was no sense in lying, though. “We came onboard together. He is… was, my boyfriend. Now I’m really not sure. I’ve tried to figure it out and every time I think it’s settled something else comes up.”
“Ah,” he said thoughtfully. Reaching for his wineglass, he held it with the stem through his fingers and swirled the nearly clear drink around the inside. “I was in a relationship like that once. My first wife. Over time, she gradually decided she wanted to see other people. There was nothing I could do to convince her otherwise.”
That sounded just like what she was experiencing with Jerry. It raised another question, though. “Your first wife? So there was a second?”
His whole face frowned. “Yes. There was.” He held up his left hand to show there was no wedding ring there. No tan line either that would have shown a ring was there and recently removed. “My second wife died ten years ago.”
“Oh. Oh, Avery, I’m sorry.”
He lifted his shoulders helplessly. “Thank you, but there was nothing anyone could do for her. She had cancer, and the end was quick for her. It’s one of the reasons I come on these cruises, actually. It reminds me of all the things that she and I were going to do.”
Over the rim of his wineglass, Avery eyed her intently. “It reminds me that time is short, and we need to seize our opportunities when we can.”
Silence fell between them, but it was a comfortable sort of quiet, full of things they weren’t saying even though both of them knew what the other was thinking.
Dessert came, huge pieces of chocolate cake with sliced strawberries as garnish. While they ate, they talked some more and Cookie wished the night would never end. Just as soon as she let that thought zip through her head she tried to catch it and take it back because she knew she’d just jinxed herself.
“So you’re here with family,” Avery said, picking up on their earlier conversation. “What’s the occasion?”
There it was. She really needed to learn not to tempt fate like that. “Actually, my daughter and granddaughter and I were here for a wedding. I baked the cake with my granddaughter’s help.”
“That sounds wonderful,” he told her. “Why do you look so sad?”
With a sigh, she told him the sad truth. “The murder on board. That was my daughter’s husband.”
“Oh. Oh, no,” he said, dropping his fork and reaching across the round tabletop for Cookie’s hand. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize.”
His touch felt nice. The sincere way he had just spoken to her was a balm for her soul. At the same time, the mention of Joseph’s murder made her realize she was out enjoying a nice evening with a new male friend while Madison was breaking down in her cabin and Clarissa was trying to hold her mother together. She needed to set her mind to solving the mystery and proving Jayce was the killer. Not enjoying an amazing rotini in cream sauce and chocolate cake for dessert.
Her thoughts must have shown on her face because he gave her hand a squeeze and then let go. “I understand. I’ve enjoyed your company but I’m keeping you from your family. Go ahead. May I text you later?”
Cookie wanted to stay. She wanted to stay right here, in this moment, and remember what it felt like to be a woman talking to a man. She couldn’t, though. She had responsibilities as a mother and a grandmother that she hadn’t had in her teenage years when dating had been just for fun and it didn’t matter what kind of spice you put into your life as long as it was different and new and exciting.
As a grownup, she didn’t have the luxury of wasting time. She’d learned that lesson in her bakery, where paying attention to the timer and the instructions meant the difference between a recipe’s success or failure.
She couldn’t afford to fail here. Not even a little.
“Thank you for a lovely time,” she told Avery, standing up to go.
He stood up with her, and stepped close, and kissed her cheek.
Chapter Six
Humming to herself, she fit the cardkey through the electronic lock and opened the door to her cabin. No Jerry. Well, he could be off investigating the murder, she supposed. Or, he could be avoiding her.
With a sigh she put her key and cellphone and little clutch purse down on the table next to the bed. “Cream, what should I do about Jerry?” She figured getting advice from her best friend couldn’t hurt. “Or for that matter, what should I do about Avery? What do you think, Cream? You like Jerry, I know, but you had a good time today palling around with Chaz, right?”
Her friend was silent as she peppered him with questions.
That wasn’t like him.
“Cream?”
Cookie looked around the cabin. Under the bed, under the desk, inside her suitcase which seemed unlikely but she was becoming worried. Frantically, she searched the small bathroom space and then the closet but she already knew what she was going to find.
He was missing.
No, the rational part of her brain told her. That was impossible. She’d left him here, right here in this room, when she went to have dinner with Avery. Nobody could get in here without a key.
That’s when she thought of Jerry. Of course. Jerry had his own key. He must have taken Cream for a walk or something, to show her how much he still cared about her and her little four-footed friend. Of course. That was all it was.
Snatching up her cellphone again she quickly sent Jerry a text. Did you take Cream?
Then she started pacing the room, sitting down only to get up again, fiddling with things that didn’t need to be fiddled with just to give her mind something to do. Jerry had to have Cream. Inconsiderate of him not to leave a note but she could forgive him as long as the dog was safe and sound somewhere and Jerry had him.
Her phone buzzed.
Of course I didn’t take your dog, his text said. Why?
Now real panic set in. She searched the cabin again even though there was no way that she could have missed Cream in a space this small. He’d be barking. He would have met her at the door as soon as he heard the keycard
in the lock. That should have been her first clue right there. She should have been paying more attention. She should have known!
Cookie rushed back out into the hallway. There were a few other passengers nearby and she immediately went to each one and asked if they had seen a little Chihuahua with brownish-white hair. “Wearing a purple collar,” she added, “with his name on it. Cream? Have you seen him?”
No one had.
Wringing her hands, Cookie looked back at her cabin door. Should she stay here, in case Cream came back? No, she decided. There was no way Cream had gotten out of that room on his own. Dogs had never mastered the doorknob principle. There was only one reason why he wouldn’t be here, waiting for her.
Someone had dognapped him.
Suddenly the wording of the note slipped under her door came back to her. She hadn’t thought anything about it at the time. Just a phrase. Just a stupid thing that people say. Only now, it sounded so sinister she was ashamed of herself for not seeing it for the threat it was.
LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE
It had been a warning. Back off the investigation, or her dog would pay the price.
Her mouth pressed into a thin line to keep herself from crying, Cookie worked her way up to the top deck. She was puffing for air by the time she made it to the top of the stairway, but she couldn’t stand the thought of waiting for the elevator to meander its way to her and then up again. She needed help, and she needed it now.
The lights out in the open momentarily blinded her. Blinking away the afterimages of floodlights and lanterns on strings and neon signs, Cookie looked around for one of the crew in their red vests. It didn’t take long to spot one. The woman noticed her coming before Cookie got to her.
“Is there something wrong, Ma’am?” the crewmember asked, a patient smile on her face for what she must assume would be another lost passenger asking directions to the nearest buffet.
“My dog,” Cookie said, suddenly unsure where to begin. “My dog is missing. Please, help me. I need to find him!”