by Diane Rapp
High-priced merchandise beckoned while Kayla sprinted, rolling her luggage toward the departure gate. She put her slip-on shoes and carryon bag in a tray for terrorism inspection, endured the full-body scan, checked in at the gate, and secured a seat assignment with ten minutes to spare. There was enough time to make a long distance call to Steven’s office.
Using an overseas operator Kayla reached Steven’s secretary, Gretchen. As she heard the woman’s sexy voice, Kayla imagined Miss Moneypenny flirting with James Bond, a leggy redhead with sultry green eyes. Steven maintained Gretchen was barely five-feet tall and a gray-haired woman on the far side of fifty, but Kayla clung to her own opinion until she actually met the woman. Since childhood Kayla “cast” people she met as the famous people or actors they resembled. Was it her fault Gretchen—who spoke with a very proper British accent—sounded like a perfect Moneypenny?
“Hi, Kayla,” Gretchen sighed. “Steven’s out of country. I can’t patch you through and I’m not sure how soon he can call back.”
“I know,” Kayla said. “He’s on some top secret assignment.”
“You know I can’t divulge information about ongoing operatives. His work is classified.” Listening to Gretchen’s brusque reply, Kayla pictured a scowling redhead with flashing green eyes. She really must meet this woman to “cast” her accurately.
“I understand. I left a message on his voice mail but I thought I’d leave a backup message with you. Please tell him I’m on my way to Norfolk, Virginia to work for Constellation Cruise Lines. I’ll be sailing on a ship called the Sea Mist.”
“Is there a number where Steven can call?” Gretchen asked in a clipped tone.
“I’ll have my cell phone, but I’ll get a number for the ship’s phone once I’m onboard. Tell him I decided to keep myself busy while he’s working.” Kayla’s voice crackled with emotion.
Gretchen softened. “I’m sorry, Kayla. He’s working on a very important case and misses you ever so deeply.” Receiving sympathy from a total stranger made Kayla’s chest ache.
“Thanks, Gretchen.”
Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She feared sounding pathetic over the phone and took a deep breath. She wanted to say, “Tell Steven I love him,” but she couldn’t say the words to a woman whose face flickered from Miss Moneypenny to Miss Marple in her mind. “Just tell him to be extra careful.”
“I’ll give him the message straight away,” Gretchen said cheerfully. Did she hear Gretchen sniffle in sympathy? She decided to imagine the woman as Miss Marple wearing trifocals and sensible shoes.
Hearing an announcement for the final boarding call, she said, “I’ve got to run. Bye, Gretchen.”
“Ta!” Gretchen said. The line clicked and a loud buzz rang in Kayla’s ear.
After three hours of catnaps, bland food, and crying babies, Kayla felt grateful when the flight landed at Norfolk International. She spotted Emily, dressed in white slacks and a loose cable-knit peach sweater, looking cool and chic. Emily looked sporty with short auburn hair curled in buoyant wisps, gold-rimmed eyeglasses, hazel eyes, and lightly sprinkled with freckles over her round face. Kayla originally cast Emily as a mature Maureen O’Hara when they met in the Caribbean, and today she decided the casting was perfect.
Tugging a crumpled T-shirt down over faded Levi’s, Kayla willed herself to look perky. Emily swooped through the crowd and encircled Kayla with a boisterous hug. The scent of fresh peaches radiated from Emily’s soft skin, making Kayla’s mouth water. She wondered if Emily matched her scent to the color of her outfit—would she smell like grapes dressed in purple or bananas dressed in yellow?
Emily pushed Kayla out to get an arm’s length view. “You’re tired! You’ll feel better after a hot shower on the ship.”
Kayla rubbed a smudge of mascara out of the corner of her eye with her fingertip. “I probably look worse than I feel—but a shower would be heavenly.”
“Conditions on the Sea Mist are far from comfortable. We’ve got electric shortages and dust in every crevice, but the boilers give us hot water,” Emily babbled, her voice pitched too high, nervous.
Kayla glanced sideways. Under Emily’s perfect makeup, her face looked haggard and tension radiated from her body. They maneuvered through the long concourse, dodging the mess of a remodeling project in the main terminal. Kayla asked, “You want to tell me about your problem?”
Emily blinked rapidly. Her creamy skin flushed and she frowned. “Do you believe in the supernatural?” she asked without meeting Kayla’s gaze.
“Like what, phantoms, ghosts, or demons?” Kayla nearly laughed, but Emily’s expression turned serious, and she nearly choked to suppress the chuckle.
“Yes.” Emily’s hazel eyes brimmed with tears. “A ghost is haunting the Sea Mist. Don’t look so shocked. Two weeks ago I scoffed at the idea of a haunting, but now…I fear for my own sanity. If I can’t solve this problem soon, the board may have the ammunition they need to force me out.”
“They can’t do that! You’re majority stock holder.”
Emily managed a lopsided grin. “If those bozos stop fighting each other and decide to gang up on me, they could muster the votes. Believe me Europeans hate it when women run the show!”
“What about Margaret Thatcher, Queen Elizabeth?”
“They got rid of Thatcher and the Queen is a figurehead with no political clout.”
Kayla frowned. “I’ll keep my mind open about your ghost, but I’d more likely believe you’ve got a prankster than a spook. Could someone be trying to set you up? Maybe the board hired somebody to make you look bad.”
Emily nodded. “Anything’s possible. I’d rather battle a flesh and blood enemy than a phantom.” She hugged Kayla’s shoulder and started walking. “I’m so glad you’re here to keep me grounded. I’m counting on you and Natalia to help save my job.”
“Natalia? I thought she quit after making a million on her auctioned heirloom.”
Emily nodded. “Natalia sold the necklace for a million dollars. After paying off broker commissions, taxes, and her parent’s mortgage, harsh reality set in. She bought a small condo and called to ask me for a job. As a performer, Natalia might know how to uncover the trick behind this ghost.”
“What does she think of the situation?” Kayla asked.
“I haven’t told her yet. She just arrived on Concourse A, so I sent her to baggage claim and met your plane. Do you have more bags?”
“No. I didn’t know what to pack, so this is all I have.”
Emily shrugged. “You’ll wear uniforms during the voyage and I’ll give you a clothes allowance. It’s the least I can do, dragging you out with such short notice. There’s Natalia.”
Kayla remembered Natalia but was still struck by the woman’s sleek beauty. She looked like a young Cher. Tall and slender, she sauntered toward them with the powerful grace of a sleek jungle cat. Glossy jet-black hair was draped seductively down a long neck and narrow shoulders, while skin-tight jeans and a baggy sweatshirt clung to her fashion-model figure. Appreciative male eyes followed Natalia’s languid progress through the terminal. Casting a sidelong glance at an admirer, her red lips curled into a mysterious smile, and then she greeted Emily and kissed Kayla’s cheek.
“Darling! It’s marvelous to meet you once again,” Natalia used a low pitched fake Russian accent in public.
Kayla laughed. “Good show, Natalia. I could hear them panting from across the lobby.”
Natalia shrugged, her eyes narrowing to a slant. “A performer rehearses when necessary. You know the act, a mysterious Russian mind reader, the direct descendant of Rasputin, who can see into your very soul.” Natalia gestured elaborately and bowed.
Squeezing Kayla’s shoulder, she abandoned the act to speak in a girlish American accent. “How you been, Kayla? You ever get that uptight English cop to the altar? I didn’t get an invitation yet.”
Kayla winced. “You’ll be invited if we get through regulations. Ever deal with the INS?�
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Natalia combed fingernails through her silken black hair. “I’ve heard horror stories from relatives. You spend months tangled in paperwork and finally hire a lawyer who walks the package through in days.”
“You can read minds!” Kayla laughed.
Emily frowned. “I’d no idea you were having legal problems. Please tell us all about it and we can trade favors.”
Kayla related her immigration woes as the trio walked to Emily’s Chevy Suburban in short-term parking. Natalia nodded and Emily scowled as they heard the story.
“You shouldn’t be subjected to such bureaucratic nonsense,” Emily said as she clicked the door lock. Flipping open a cell phone, Emily hit an auto-dial button, paused to listen, then said, “Hi, Jenny, let me talk to Ronald . . . No, this is important! Hi Ronny, Emily here. A young woman working for me is having trouble cutting through INS regulations to marry. . . He’s English, a real straight arrow working for Interpol. He can’t be stuck stateside waiting for final paperwork . . . Good. Call me right away. Thanks.”
Emily closed the phone and grinned. “Ronald’s on retainer. He says that Steven can file for something called an “advanced parole.” The process is simple, you get married, file a form with a certified copy of the marriage certificate, and Ronald can secure a temporary card so Steven can travel while the final papers are processed. Ronald’s firm keeps an expert on staff that works on these types of problems. He can get Steven’s card over the counter once you have a marriage certificate.”
“You’re wonderful!” Kayla squealed.
“Just help me get rid of my ghost and we’ll be even.”
Natalia’s dark eyes widened. “Ghost? What ghost?”
Kayla and Emily explained the problem.
Natalia held up her hands and shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t do ghosts! They give me the creeps, so leave me out of this!”
Emily pursed her lips. “I really need your help. Please. This is important, Natalia.”
“Damn!” Natalia gazed at the ceiling of the car, and then shrugged. “Okay. I’ll help. But we’ve got to be careful!”
“What’s wrong? You turned white!” Kayla felt a chill prickle the back of her neck.
Natalia said, “I’ve got a creepy feeling this ghost is dangerous.” She stroked her hair and gazed out the window. “Someone could get hurt.”
Emily glanced at Kayla. “Are you still willing to help?”
Kayla nodded.
They traveled in silence as Kayla gazed out the window and admired the nautical city of Norfolk. The sparkling reflections of water peaked out from under bridges, between tall buildings, and around the next bend in the road. Nestled between Chesapeake Bay and the Elizabeth River, natural harbors that coupled Norfolk inexorably with the sea, the city looked like a floating armada of buildings preparing to set sail.
Kayla wondered if she really wanted to work on a ship encumbered with strange problems—ghost or trickster, they might be in for trouble.
Chapter 2 ~ Dry Dock
After clearing security, Emily drove to the dry dock, a square concrete cavity large enough to moor the Queen Mary. Held in place by center-line keel blocks running from bow to stern and bilge keel blocks on both sides of the hull spaced about three feet apart at the bottom of the dry dock, the Sea Mist looked precariously balanced. Kayla once read that keel blocks could support a thousand pounds per block, but it was hard to believe such a large ship could balance on such small looking devices.
“What’s being done?” Natalia asked. An onslaught of technicians, painters, carpenters, and repairmen scrambled down ropes, balanced on scaffolding, and carried equipment through openings.
Emily said, “All the ship’s underwater gear, the stabilizers, propeller shafts, and props, must be repaired or replaced. They’re changing the anodes that absorb static electricity bleeding out of the ship—very corrosive to a steel hull—then sand the entire hull, and apply new paint. On the interior, we’re replacing all the carpets and furniture in the cabins, plus applying new paint and varnish. It’s extraordinarily expensive.”
Natalia whistled. “No wonder the board is out for your head. You’ve spent their money on a ghost ship.”
“They don’t know about the ghost yet,” Emily admitted.
“Don’t count on it. I’d bet there are spies watching your every move,” Natalia said and Emily glanced around nervously.
As they walked the gangplank to cross the gaping hole of the dry dock bay, a series of hoots and whistles halted construction noise, while workmen dangling from ropes and platforms waved vigorously. Kayla averted her gaze but the attention encouraged Natalia. She sauntered along the gangplank, blowing kisses and winking.
Kayla groaned. “Don’t egg them on!”
“Why not? It’s harmless fun and I’m a born entertainer.” Natalia flipped a cascade of ebony hair back over her shoulder. “One guy has a build, good enough to enter the Mr. Muscle contest.”
Kayla shoved Natalia into the doorway. “You’re shameless!”
Natalia smiled, fluttered long black eyelashes, and sashayed down the hallway with her hips swinging. Heads popped out of doorways to watch her performance.
“Emily! Do something!” Kayla said.
“What? Natalia’s handling them beautifully without my help. Come this way.” Emily pointed to the dark staircase. “Our elevator’s out-of-service until the electrical system is revamped.” She grabbed a couple of flashlights from a box at the bottom of the stairway. “Carry these since the interior hallways get dark fast.”
Kayla wiped her fingers across a thick film coating the wood railing. “It’s dusty work.”
Emily nodded. “Dust filters from everywhere, what with sanding paint off the hull and stripping down the interiors. Head for the top deck, we’re bunking in the suites.”
Dragging their luggage upstairs, heavy breathing replaced conversation. Orbs of dull yellow light bobbed erratically from unsteady flashlights, the rays illuminating airborne dust particles like headlights cutting through a snow flurry.
Nose itching and eyes watering, Kayla stopped on a landing to dig out a tissue from her purse. Holding the flashlight between the crook of her arm and rib cage, she heard a door click open. She pivoted to see a tall figure dressed in white from head to toe with his nose and mouth covered by a conical paper mask. Startled, Kayla jumped backward, dropped her flashlight, and fell down hard onto her suitcase.
“Sorry ma’am, didn’t know you was out here.” Removing the mask he bent to offer a hand. Dust clung to his hair, eyelashes, and cheeks, making him resemble a circus clown hit by a giant powder puff. She laughed and accepted his help to stand.
“It’s my own fault. This is a spooky place with all the lights out,” she said.
“Spooky even with the lights on,” he muttered, shifting his gaze nervously down the stairs.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Weird things happen all the time—hammers lift right out of a guy’s tool belt; elevators run without electricity; everything’s hot as a biscuit one minute and icy cold the next. Frankly, I can’t wait to get quit o’ this place.”
“Kayla! Where are you?” Emily called from upstairs.
“Thanks. I’d better go,” Kayla said, picking up her flashlight and dragging her suitcase up the stairs.
“Be careful! Don’t go no place without someone goes with you, hear?” he said, his eyes looked wild in the eerie yellow glow.
“Yeah . . . sure . . . thanks.” Kayla rushed upstairs nearly colliding with her friends at the top landing.
“What happened?” Emily asked. “One minute you were behind us then you’re gone.”
Kayla blew her nose into the tissue. “I stopped to use a Kleenex and ran into a spooky looking workman. He scared me silly and then apologized. This place makes me feel jumpy, even though I don’t believe in ghosts.”
Natalia grinned. “Deep down you believe in ghosts, everyone does. Hollywood makes millions by scari
ng audiences with spooks and we all fork over our hard-earned money for the privilege. If there wasn’t a kernel of doubt in that pretty little head of yours, you wouldn’t shiver in this heat.”
Kayla gripped her quivering flashlight. “A dust-covered giant appeared from nowhere, so anyone would be startled. It’s perfectly natural.”
“Sure.” Natalia sauntered down the hall.
“Don’t listen to her,” Emily said. “Uncover a rational explanation for these ghost sightings and I’ll pay you a fat bonus! Here we are.” Emily ushered them into a two-bedroom suite, usually occupied by the cruising elite. “We might as well be comfortable while we work,” Emily said, responding to Natalia’s raised eyebrows. “You two share that room and I’m in this room. If the lights go out, we’ve got a portable generator. Use it sparingly.”
Natalia dragged her bags into the bedroom and plopped onto a twin bed. “Flip for first shower?” she asked shedding her sweatshirt. “I won’t need this.” Under the sweatshirt she wore a spandex leotard.
“I’ll let you shower first,” Kayla said. “Just save me some hot water.”
Natalia nodded. “Let’s hope there’s hot water available.”
Kayla leaned against the doorframe of Emily’s room. “That workman I met told me weird things have been happening.”
“Yes,” Emily smiled ruefully, “but nothing we can prove.”
“So, what makes you believe there’s a ghost? You don’t seem the type to fall for a metaphysical hoax,” Kayla said.
“I spent a night in the ghost’s cabin after passengers complained. I experienced the phantom myself.” Her eyebrows crinkled with worry. “Anyone clever enough to set up that encounter is an expert. I just wish Steven was available but Natalia knows the tricks entertainers use. I want it stopped, ghost or no ghost.”
“So how do we tackle the problem?”