by Diane Rapp
Jim shrugged. “Maybe it was an act—you know—to convince us she loved her sister. I never bought it.”
“Why not?”
“Annabelle was too fluttery—you know—like a Southern Belle in Gone with the Wind. I half expected her to faint dead away with the vapors. You never can trust that type of woman. I’d bet Annabelle was right happy to get rid of Margaret, that sour-faced sister of hers. Didn’t like either of them right from the start.”
“Oh, Jim! Those women were nice enough.” Mary turned to Kayla. “Jim doesn’t like clinging women. Annabelle grabbed your arm when she talked to you.”
Jim glanced around the room. “Glad you warned us she’s onboard. We’ll keep clear of her.”
“Thanks. This has been very interesting information, but you’re probably right, we can’t use this story in the newspaper.” Kayla turned to the other couples. “Did you have anything for the article?” Smiling, they shook their heads and mumbled “no.”
Kayla closed her notebook, heart pounding. “Thanks. Enjoy the cruise.”
Finally a clue! “I’ve got something,” Kayla announced as she burst into their suite. “A suicide named Margaret Jaspers! Her sister is onboard!”
Emily nodded. “Annabelle Jaspers.”
Natalia arched her eyebrow and added, “She’s from Atlanta, age fifty, and teaches in a private girl’s school. Her sister, Margaret was a teacher at the same school. She committed suicide.”
Disappointed, Kayla plopped onto the sofa. “You already know?”
Emily held up the log she was reading. “I found the event recorded in a log this morning.”
Natalia filed her fingernails. “Annabelle told another passenger about the suicide as she boarded. She wants closure.”
“God! I hate that word,” Kayla said. “It sounds like you stuff your feelings into a zip-lock bag, press the air out with a whoosh, and seal it tight. It can’t be done.”
Natalia’s dark eyes sparkled. Assuming a thick Russian accent, she said, “Darling! You think about someone who fails to call? I predict you will meet a dark-haired man in Bermuda.”
Kayla stiffened. “What?” She eyed Natalia then glanced at Emily. “Okay! What do you two know?”
Emily waved a telex in the air, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “He’s already in Bermuda and plans to join the ship when we dock. I cleared it with the bridge.”
Kayla jumped up from the sofa and grabbed the cable. “We land in Bermuda tomorrow!” She caught her reflection in the mirror and groaned. “I look a mess!”
Natalia placed red fingernails on her forehead and stared into space. “I see a beauty salon in your future. You will experience a complete facial, hair styling, and pedicure.” She chuckled, dropping her Russian accent. “Emily called down and booked an appointment when we got the telex. You have an 11:30 appointment.”
Kayla checked her watch. “I’ve only got twenty minutes!” She glanced toward the bedroom she shared with Natalia. “We can’t stay here,” she said.
Emily nodded. “Our steward moved your things.” She dangled a key between her fingers. “But Steven will work for his board! This is not a free vacation.”
Kayla took the key and kissed Emily’s cheek. “Steven can do his magic act and help crack our mystery.”
Natalia smiled knowingly. “We’ve scheduled him to perform two nights from now and I reserve this box of logbooks for him to read.” She scribbled Steven’s name across the top of the box with a black marker. “Whatever else you two decide to do—”
“Thanks.” Kayla darted out the door. Ecstatic, she raced along the hall to the stairway.
Steven is coming!
Kayla’s heart sang. Jubilation replaced the ache of loneliness in her chest and anticipation drove thoughts of ghosts, logbooks, and investigations from her brain.
She remembered how good it felt to be wrapped in strong arms with soft kisses down her neck. The long nights of emptiness, snuggling against a limp pillow and counting heartbeats to fall asleep, would be replaced with warmth, love, and Steven!
Taking the stairs two at a time, Kayla nearly tripped. The world tilted on its axis, her vision blurred, and her stomach lurched. She grabbed the handrail. Icy coldness stung her fingers and she jerked free. A miasma enveloped her senses. The smell of lavender and kelp drifted like a heavy mist through the open glass doors from the moonlit deck outside. Light fixtures shaped like seashells flickered, illuminating gold carpet and avocado green walls. She clutched a folded note between gloved fingers…
I’m not wearing gloves! Kayla shuddered. A loud “ding” announced the arrival of the elevator. Expecting to see the Lady standing inside, Kayla tried to run but stood frozen in place. The doors slid open and her mouth felt too dry to swallow. Her vision blurred—and cheerful passengers walked lazily from the elevator to the sunny deck outside. A balmy breeze filled the corridor and a shaft of golden sunshine gleamed across salmon-colored carpet and coral walls.
Kayla’s knees buckled. She gripped the solid wood handrail to steady wobbly legs and gulped deep breaths. What happened to me? Glancing at her shaking bare hands, Kayla wished she’d read the note before it disappeared.
She tried to analyze the experience rationally. Her vision had blurred and the ship’s decor looked old fashioned, like the ghost’s cabin. She saw the scene from an altered perspective, like she had been looking through a distorted camera lens.
Did the ghost project a memory? Why?
Thoughtfully, Kayla walked slowly. Again, she wished she’d read the note. Was it a message from the ghost? Next time, I’ll keep cool and read the note. Will there be a next time?
Inside the beauty parlor, the tangy smell of nail polish and perm solution mingled with the fruity scents of shampoos, body lotions, and hair spray. Hot air blasted from a hand-held hairdryer as a beautician motioned Kayla to sit.
The fresh décor blended peach and turquoise fabrics with tropical-flowered wallpaper. Kayla settled into the folds of a comfortable overstuffed chair, one of several arranged around a wicker coffee table filled with magazines. As melodic chatter coalesced into a pleasant cacophony of women’s voices, Kayla relaxed. Thumbing through the slick pages of a gossip magazine, famous faces flashed by like a circus parade, enticing her to read the glaring headlines.
“You don’t pay attention to that rag, do you?” The dulcet tones of Angela Hearns interrupted Kayla’s tabloid tour.
Kayla laughed. “No. It’s just something to do while I wait.”
Angela grimaced and plopped down into a peach-colored chair. “Tabloid creeps reported I slept with every leading man in my movies—destroyed two of my marriages.”
Kayla tossed the magazine onto the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t apologize. My last husband was a blood-sucking leech. He embezzled all my money, and then left me flat broke with a mountain of debt. If I hadn’t been desperate for money, I might’ve turned down that Oscar-winning role. Indirectly, the rat made me rich again.”
“Really?” Kayla said.
Angela said, “I’m not good at choosing men, so I’ve sworn off.”
The world tilted. The décor of the beauty parlor blurred into shades of avocado and yellow with stiff chrome chairs and a vinyl monstrosity for a sofa. As Kayla’s vision shifted, the smell of lavender filled her nostrils. She grabbed the cold chrome arm of her chair as Angela’s face thinned. The actress looked young and gaudy with jangling jewelry, frosty blue eye shadow, silver-blonde hair, and ultra long nails.
Kayla tried to remain calm.
Glancing at the magazine on the glass coffee table, Kayla recognized photos of a young Angela and Vincent Bollard—images of the couple running from the press, hiding their faces, and a distraught Angela in a courtroom. Kayla remembered reading that article years ago!
“You okay, honey?” Angela asked. “You’re white as a ghost.”
A ghost! The room swirled and righted itself. Kayla slumped into the comfortable
arms of the overstuffed chair, grateful to see Angela leaning across the wicker table, her round face looking concerned.
“Sorry, I’m okay.” Kayla rubbed her aching forehead. “I forgot to eat breakfast and my boyfriend’s joining the ship tomorrow.”
Angela smiled. Her face glowed, enhanced by delicately applied makeup in earth-tone colors, and her golden brown eyes sparkled with life. The natural beauty Angela projected seemed much more attractive to Kayla than the phony “glam” image of the younger actress.
“You must miss him!” Angela said.
Laughing, Kayla said, “Is it that obvious? I rushed down here to make myself beautiful.”
“That won’t be difficult. Your hair is a lovely shade—I’d say honey-blonde. Is it natural?”
Kayla nodded and felt herself blush. “It gets lighter when I’ve been in the sun.”
“Lucky girl. I spent hundreds of hours in the company of bleach bottles to achieve a smattering of your look.” She stroked her luxurious reddish-brown mane. “But I’ve given that up. Buster wants me to go back to blond for his film but natural is the best image for me.”
“So you’re going to do the sequel?”
Angela shrugged. “I’m game but Vincent refuses to play an aging executive with a beer-belly. He’s not ready to face reality.”
Kayla chuckled. “He doesn’t look much like a romantic leading man any more.”
“We all age. Unfortunately, the image captured on film stares back at us like a malevolent spirit, tempting us with eternal youth. Some actors fight the truth but this film would do him a lot of good.”
“You like him?”
“I did, once.” Angela gazed at the ceiling. “This ship revives too many memories—”
The beautician interrupted, “We’re ready for you, Kayla.”
She stood. Wishing she could hear the rest of Angela’s story, Kayla said, “I’m writing an article for the ship’s newsletter. Could we talk over coffee?”
Angela smile turned into a stiff grimace, her body suddenly rigid. “I’d rather not.”
“If you’d prefer, I’d keep the conversation to myself. I’d really like to talk with you.”
Angela’s dark eyes flashed. “I’ve heard that one before. They’re ready for me, so good day, Miss Sanders.” She rose and sauntered to the back of the salon.
Kayla’s stomach sank, knowing she’d missed a perfect opportunity. As the beautician ran warm water over her scalp, Kayla closed her eyes and thought about the ghost. Strong fingers massaged a coconut-scented shampoo into her scalp. Why did the ghost show Angela as a young actress? Had she known Angela? Were the stories about an affair with Vincent Bollard true?
Kayla felt unnerved by the ghost’s attention. Or was she letting her imagination conjure up hallucinations? She had no experience with the supernatural, after all Natalia was the expert in that area. Why make contact in such an obscure fashion? Maybe Natalia could help decipher the meaning.
Feeling refreshed after a facial, manicure, and haircut, Kayla breezed into Emily’s suite two hours later. Natalia grinned and Emily nodded approval.
“You should do this more often,” Natalia said.
“I feel great but our ghost is driving me crazy!” Kayla described her recent experience.
Natalia looked grim. She said, “This is my fault.”
“How do you mean?” Emily asked.
“When the ghost beckoned to me that first day in her room, I ran. She needed help, but I blocked her out. Now she’s forcing a rapport with Kayla.”
“It doesn’t really matter who she’s contacting, does it?” Kayla asked.
“I’m afraid it does.” Natalia frowned. “You can’t see the ghost, so she’s forcing her way into your mind. It could be dangerous for you both.”
Kayla’s heart pounded. “How?”
Natalia’s dark eyes held Kayla’s gaze and her lips tightened. “Ghosts don’t recognize the danger of tampering with the living. If she pushes into your mind too far, she could take control.”
Emily squeezed Kayla’s shoulder. “What can we do?”
Natalia lowered her gaze, staring at her own red fingernails. “I need to make contact tonight. If I can divert her attention, offer help, she might leave you alone.”
Silence fell like a heavy blanket, smothering them with foreboding. Abruptly Emily stood. “Well! If we must make contact, then let’s get started.”
Natalia shook her head. “We’ll go to her room at midnight—the witching hour. I suggest you two read logbooks while I prepare myself mentally.”
Kayla watched Natalia glide out of the room while Emily ordered supper delivered to the suite. They ate in a silence broken by the clang of silverware on plates. By midnight Kayla’s nerves felt raw. She jumped to her feet when Natalia emerged from her room.
Natalia dressed simply in black slacks, gray sweater, tennis shoes, and hair pulled into a bun. The serene expression gave her an oriental appearance. “You ready?” she asked.
Emily nodded and Kayla grimaced. They followed Natalia down the stairs, and along the stretch of corridors leading to the Lady’s room. Emily unlocked the door and they entered.
Although redecorated in the same motif as the rest of the ship, the room had been kept vacant. The women examined the quarters with critical attention but found no flowers, special smells, or sign of the ghost.
After several long minutes, Kayla asked, “What should we do now?”
Natalia gestured at the bed. “Sit and make yourselves comfortable. The Lady will choose her time.”
Emily plunked into an overstuffed chair, Kayla sat stiffly on the bed, and Natalia paced like a jungle cat, her footsteps swishing over the carpet. Time dragged. Soon Emily’s eyelids drooped and her body sagged into the comfortable chair. Kayla pulled her feet onto the bed, propped her elbow against the pillow, and leaned her chin against her hand. Natalia sat demurely on the foot of the bed with her hands folded.
Kayla’s eyes closed. Waking abruptly, when her head fell away from her hand and hit the pillow, Kayla saw Natalia leave the room. Jumping from the bed, Kayla shook Emily awake.
“Come on! Something’s happening,” Kayla whispered.
Emily rubbed her eyes. “What?”
“Natalia just left. We’d better follow.”
Emily nodded. In the corridor, they saw Natalia walk slowly toward the staircase. She looked dazed, her hands dangling loosely at her sides, and her eyes focused on something invisible just ahead.
Emily touched Kayla’s arm, touched her nose and then pointed at the carpet. Kayla understood. The cloying scent of lavender hung in the air, and damp footprints appeared on the carpet ahead of Natalia’s path.
Quietly they followed Natalia up the stairs and onto the deck. A thick fog swirled unnaturally in a slow-motion whirlwind. Natalia stopped near the railing. She watched intently and cried, “No!” Running to the handrail, Natalia stepped up onto the bottom rung.
Kayla grabbed Natalia and dragged her away from the railing. Natalia sobbed, stretching her arms toward the rolling ocean. Emily said, “Let’s get back to our cabin.”
Streaks of mascara marred Natalia’s face as she shivered on the sofa. Emily filled a glass with brandy and encouraged her to sip while Kayla rubbed Natalia’s cold fingers. They waited.
Finally Natalia heaved a jerky sigh and her eyes brimmed with tears. She said, “The Lady looked like a glowing angel dressed in an elegant green gown, dark green shoes, and a sparkling emerald necklace. This time I didn’t feel afraid. She smiled and beckoned me to follow. She carried a folded note in her white-gloved hand and seemed intent on getting to the main deck.”
Natalia sipped the brandy. “The Lady looked beautiful…sad…like someone had broken her heart. When we got on deck the Lady acted startled and spoke to someone I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear her words. Suddenly she struggled, fighting an invisible enemy who pushed her against the railing. He choked her! The Lady scratched at invisible hands as he lift
ed her right off her feet. She kicked and squirmed until her body became limp. He tore the necklace from her dead body and flung her overboard!”
Tears spilled down Natalia’s cheeks. “I felt so helpless. I watched him kill her and I couldn’t help!”
Emily said, “You keep saying ‘he.’ Was the killer a man?”
“I couldn’t see her killer.” Natalia gazed at the ceiling. “But the Lady was tall and the murderer easily flung her body over the railing, like a strong man.”
“Well! This sheds new light on our problem.” Emily picked up the logbook she had been reading. “Margaret Jaspers was a small woman who jumped from the stern of the ship in broad daylight. There were lots of witnesses, and she wasn’t flung over the side by some mysterious attacker.”
Kayla added, “The Lady’s clothes and jewels suggest she was a rich woman not a school teacher.”
Natalia nodded. “The Lady moved with grace and poise. I’d say she attended a finishing school.”
Emily tossed the logbook into a box. “I’m exhausted. I hope you two can get some sleep. I’m off to bed.”
Kayla stood. “Are you going to be okay? I could stay here if you need company.”
Natalia unpinned the bun and shook her hair free. “You snore. I’d rather sleep with the ghost, thanks.” She grinned. “Go! Steven arrives tomorrow, so you need all the sleep you can get.”
Chapter 5 ~ Bermuda
To her surprise, Kayla slept soundly and woke to the insistent beep of the travel alarm. After showering she turned on the television and listened to a lecture on Bermuda broadcast on the ship’s closed-circuit station while she dressed. The narrator’s British accent made her lonesome for Steven.
“Shaped like a fishhook, Bermuda is Britain’s oldest colony and consists of over 120 coral islands. The largest islands are connected to create a landmass only twenty-two miles long and no more than two miles wide at any point. Situated five hundred miles from the coast of North Carolina in the Sargasso Sea, Bermuda is the northernmost coral reef system in the world.”
Kayla glanced at the screen in time to view the map. It depicted a long narrow group of islands, connected by bridges and causeways. There were three large bays and many small ponds.