Murder on a Ghost Ship (High Seas Mystery Series Book 2)

by Diane Rapp

  “Yes!” Buster said, casting a look at Kayla that begged her to keep quiet about their recent conversation. “Investors get squirrelly before their checks get cashed. Now Paula’s gone we won’t have trouble getting our film off the ground.”

  A choking sound drew everyone’s attention to Vincent Bollard. Eyes wide and face red, he barked, “What’s this?” He waved the letter in Kayla’s face. “What are you trying to do to me?” Vincent bolted from the table.

  Buster grabbed the letter, scanned the note, and turned on Kayla. “This is in Celeste’s handwriting! How could you deliver a note written by Vincent’s dead wife? What are you trying to pull?” He eyed her suspiciously. “Are you in cahoots with Paula?”

  “What?” Kayla gasped. Her face reddened under the wide-eyed stares of everyone as a chill crept up her spine. Did the ghost replace Paula’s note with one of her own? She slumped into Vincent’s empty chair. “Can I see the letter?”

  Buster shoved the note across the table. “I’d better go see Vincent.”

  “No!” Angela Hearns pushed her chair back from the table. “Vincent needs a more sympathetic ear, Buster. I’ll go.” She bent to squeeze Bentley’s hand. “Sorry darling. He’s a friend and needs my help.”

  “I understand, my dear. I’ll wait here…unless it’s too awkward to entertain a stranger.” He glanced at Buster.

  “Not at all, as Angela’s fiancé you’re part of our crowd.” Buster nodded at Angela. “Tell Vincent we’re all on his team.”

  Kayla said, “Really, I didn’t know how this note got into the envelope, please believe me.”

  Angela frowned. “I told you. Paula’s a manipulative bitch who makes Vincent’s life miserable with her antics. Be careful. Don’t believe anything Paula tells you!” She strode purposefully out of the room.

  Kayla’s hands shook as she read the flowing handwriting in faded blue ink, written on old stationery. The top of the note was torn off but Celeste Bollard’s name and New York address was printed in gold across the bottom.

  I just received wonderful news! My lawyer says he’ll have no trouble arranging for a private adoption. We may have a baby before the year is out. Please meet me on deck and we’ll celebrate our new life together.

  Love,

  Celeste

  The note looked genuine, written on different stationary than the envelope, which was imprinted with the ship’s modern logo. Did Celeste do this? Or is it a threat from Paula, proof that Celeste did not commit suicide?

  “May I take this?” Kayla asked Buster. “I’d like to show it to a friend.”

  “I doubt Vincent wants to see it again.” Buster tossed his napkin onto a half-eaten plate of food. “Waiter! We need a round of drinks here.”

  Kayla returned to her own table, fingering the smooth texture of the stationary, and wished she could talk to Steven. Natalia asked, “What’s wrong? You look upset.”

  Biting her lower lip, Kayla unfolded Celeste’s letter. “This was the note Paula asked me to give to Vincent. It’s from Celeste.”

  Emily read the letter. “It looks like the real thing. I wonder how Paula got hold of it.”

  Kayla said, “Maybe the ghost switched notes, trying to torture Vincent for his crime. Can you tell us anything by touching the note?”

  Natalia shrugged. “I never see anything when I touch an object—I’m better with live people.”

  “Give it a try,” Emily said, handing the letter over.

  Natalia gingerly accepted the document and concentrated. “Sorry, I don’t feel anything. The paper has yellowed, looks old. Can anyone verify Celeste’s handwriting?”

  “Buster said Celeste wrote the note,” said Kayla. “Is Celeste pulling tricks on him?”

  Natalia shook her head. “If Celeste could write a letter why not write a note to us on the first day? I think Paula’s behind this.”

  “Why? She doesn’t know Celeste’s been communicating with us. In this note Celeste sounded excited about adopting, like life was ready to start for her and Vincent. She didn’t sound suicidal.”

  Jason stopped at the table with a bottle of wine. “Good evening, ladies.” He set up a bucket of ice, opened the wine, and poured a sample into Natalia’s glass. As Natalia sipped the wine, Jason bent close. “I checked with Interpol and our contact on shore. Steven stopped into the custom’s office before we sailed, interviewed agents who oversee cargo inspections, and then headed back to the ship. No one saw him board.”

  Kayla asked, “What can we do?”

  Jason lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll track him down. Steven might be following a lead, but it’s not like him to keep me in the dark. If he’s able to communicate with us, he will do so.”

  Kayla gasped. “You think something’s happened to him?”

  Jason shook his head. “These guys are not stupid. They won’t harm Steven unless they’re backed into a corner. Excuse me ladies, I must attend to my customers.” He bowed and moved across the room.

  Kayla dabbed at fresh tears with a linen napkin. She realized she must control her emotions but fear built in her chest, soon she’d turn into a sobbing idiot.

  Natalia stroked Kayla’s quivering fingers. “Have faith, Kayla. Steven and Jason are professionals who know what they’re doing.”

  Kayla gulped her wine. “I remember Steven’s face when he talked about Jeremy. The smugglers already killed one policeman, so what do they have to lose by killing another?”

  “I can’t sit here doing nothing!” Emily said. “If Steven made it back onto the ship, the culprits must be keeping him prisoner onboard. I’m going to make it difficult for them to keep him hidden. I’m planning a surprise inspection tonight.” Emily stood, straightened her dress, and marched to the captain’s table.

  Natalia chuckled. “I’d like to see anyone prevent Emily from opening any door she chooses!”

  “Is there anything else we can do?” Kayla asked.

  “I’ll contact my snitches—spread the word I’m willing to pay big for any information about Steven. We’ll turn up the heat from all sides.” Natalia grinned. “Those smugglers may soon feel trapped.”

  The knot of fear in Kayla’s chest tightened. Is it wise to pressure dangerous men? Jason said they won’t harm Steven unless they’re backed into a corner, so should we make them feel trapped?

  Chapter 13 ~ Confrontation With the Ghost

  Kayla woke with a start, bedding tangled around her hot body like a python strangling its victim. She disentangled herself, switched on the lamp, and read the clock. One o’clock! She’d been in bed less than two hours.

  Steven’s denim shirt hung on a nearby chair. She fingered the sleeve, and remembered buying the shirt together in Colorado—so he’d look more American. Kayla buried her face in the denim and inhaled Steven’s scent. He was alive, she knew it, but for how long? She must find him!

  Kayla dressed with determination, wearing jeans, a turtleneck, tennis shoes, and used Steven’s shirt as a jacket. Brushing her long golden hair into a ponytail, Kayla peered into the mirror. The image blurred. Kayla squeezed her eyes shut, and gripped the dresser top, trying to keep a grasp on reality.

  “No!” she shouted. “Celeste, I don’t have time for your nonsense. Leave me alone!” Opening her eyes, she peeked at the mirror.

  Celeste’s large almond-shaped brown eyes pleaded for help. Her pale skin looked translucent framed by shoulder-length auburn hair and she wore a dark green cocktail gown with the neck cut to emphasize the emeralds against her white throat. Kayla touched her own neck and felt the frigid jewels. Celeste’s image echoed her movement. Kayla’s fingers numbed as she touched the ghostly jewels.

  She jerked her hand away and said, “I’m going crazy!” Celeste shook her head. “This can’t be real. You’re dead!”

  Celeste smiled and nodded. A tear trickled from the ghost’s brooding eyes.

  “No! Leave me alone. I’ve got to live my own life and Steven’s in trouble. I must find him! Can’t you leave me a
lone?” Kayla turned her back to the mirror and rubbed her forehead. The décor of the cabin was green and gold and the scent of lavender and filled the room.

  Icy fingers stroked Kayla’s hot cheek and she looked down at Celeste’s note lying on the dresser. The words jumped out at her like a beacon—Please meet me on deck and we’ll celebrate our new life together.

  Staring in the mirror, Kayla asked, “Do you want me to go onto the deck?”

  Celeste nodded.

  “Which deck?”

  Celeste pointed at her necklace.

  “The emerald deck?” Kayla asked. Celeste smiled and her image faded, leaving Kayla staring at her own reflection. “Okay!” Kayla shouted at the ceiling. “I’ll go! But after that I’ve got to find Steven! You hear me?” She shoved the note into her pocket and stomped out the door.

  Kayla took the outside staircase from the ruby level and climbed three flights muttering about ghosts. The deserted deck on the emerald level overlooked the pool. The steady pulse of dance music from the bar, one floor above, throbbed like the beginning of a terrible headache.

  The night air felt damp, chilly. She shivered and tugged Steven’s shirt tight around her body. “What am I doing here?” she muttered. The empty deck meandered around the perimeter of the ship, broken by open staircases that disappeared into a thick fog.

  “Well?” she whispered. “Where do I go from here, Celeste? Give me some help or I’m leaving!” Wisps of lavender scent drifted tantalizingly in the mist ahead of her. “Okay, that’ll do,” she said and followed the smell.

  The plaintive moan of the ship’s foghorn obscured the thud of Kayla’s footsteps. Halfway down the causeway the lavender scent dissipated, leaving Kayla standing alone. Ropes creaked, waves crashed against the ship, and a steady clunk punctuated the ship’s sway.

  A muffled cry drew Kayla’s attention. She rushed to the railing and peered at the silhouette of a rocking lifeboat that banged against the ship with a steady clunk. In the flickering moonlight, Kayla saw the lifeboat cover flap in the wind and security ropes dangled useless. Memories of hanging helplessly above the water in that same lifeboat made her shudder. Something moved underneath the cover.

  “Celeste?” A man’s accusing voice startled Kayla. She whirled to see Vincent standing behind her, his puzzled expression angry. Shoulders hunched and fists shoved into bulging pockets, his burning glare looked unworldly, frightening. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, stepping closer. “Are you determined to ruin my life?”

  Backed against the damp railing a chill crept up Kayla’s spine. “I…I couldn’t sleep,” she muttered, searching for a way to skirt around him. “I decided to take a walk, get some air.” She was trapped—a bulkhead blocked her escape route.

  Vincent raised his fist, holding it like he wanted to hit something. Kayla flinched, prepared to receive the blow, and his eyes widened at her expression. The muscles in his face sagged, and he looked like a bloodhound, droopy and sad.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his fist open. “I’m not going to hit you. You’ve every right to walk on the deck. It’s just that…when I saw you standing here…I thought you looked like Celeste.” He swayed, and grabbed the handrail.

  “It sounds crazy. I see Celeste in glimpses here and there, all over the ship. Tonight when you gave me her note…well…I decided to come out here and thought…”

  “You thought Celeste might be waiting,” Kayla said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Yes!” He looked surprised and rubbed his shaggy eyebrows. “I should never have come on this ship! It’s driving me crazy.”

  Kayla realized she no longer felt afraid of this sad man and patted the hand he used to grip the handrail. “I understand. This is where Celeste died.”

  “How’d you know?”

  Kayla took a deep breath, trying to decide how much to tell him. Maybe this is what Celeste wanted. Suddenly she felt she must tell him everything. “I’ve seen Celeste, too. Her ghost haunts the ship and she got me to come out here tonight.”

  The words hit him like a jolt of electricity. His face turned white. He gasped, clutched his chest, and bent over the railing in obvious pain.

  “What’s the matter?” Kayla gripped his shoulder.

  “Pills…heart…” he muttered, “in my pocket.”

  Kayla leaned against his body with her shoulder, trying to support his sagging weight while she searched his pockets. From his breast pocket she extracted a small pill case.

  “I knew it!” Paula’s shrill voice pierced the air. “The minute I’m gone, you swoop in like a vulture! You pretended to be my friend, but you were really after my husband. Get your hands off him!”

  Kayla craned her neck to see Paula. “He’s having a heart attack, Paula! I’m just trying to get his pills out.”

  Paula held a gun. She was dressed like Celeste, wearing a green cocktail dress, an auburn wig, and the emerald necklace. Astonished, Kayla wondered whether Celeste was playing tricks again, except her vision remained clear and she smelled no lavender. Vincent still looked old. There was a major difference between the two women—their eyes. Celeste had soft brown eyes, warm and loving, while Paula’s startling blue eyes flashed with malice and hostility.

  Paula snarled, “Vincent has a talent for attracting women. You can’t imagine how hard I work to keep women away from his rugged face and soulful eyes. He’s such a weakling, ready to follow any pretty face, so I use every trick to keep him in line.”

  Vincent hissed with pain as another spasm hit. “Paula! Can’t you see he’s in terrible trouble?” Kayla pleaded.

  Brandishing the gun, Paula scowled. “He’s in more trouble than you know.”

  “Let me give him a pill, I’ve got them right here.” Kayla held up the pill case.

  “No! Move away from him now!” Paula shouted.

  Vincent braced himself against the railing. “It’s okay,” he said. “Do what she says.”

  Kayla stepped away from Vincent. “Listen, Paula. We met by chance, were talking about Celeste, and suddenly his heart attack started. You must get him to the doctor!”

  Paula smirked. “Doctor? Vincent doesn’t need a doctor. Do you, honey?” She stepped forward. “Vincent’s had a bad ticker for years and doctors tell me it’s a matter of time before his heart just conks out. Give me those pills, Kayla!”

  She handed the pill case to Paula, who levered the top open with her free hand. “You want one, lover? Make up with me and I’ll let you have one right now.”

  Vincent grimaced. “No. I’m tired of living in fear. Coming back on this ship, I realized how much Celeste loved me.”

  “No!” Paula whined. “I’m the one who loved you, and it was Celeste who kept us from being together. I killed her so we could be together, don’t you remember?”

  “You killed Celeste?” Kayla asked.

  Paula frowned. “Sure, why not? Vincent loved me and with Celeste gone we could enjoy all her beautiful money.”

  Vincent groaned, “I never loved you, Paula. You blackmailed me into marriage.”

  “Men don’t know the difference between love and lust.” Her lips curled into a sly grin. “It was fun playing our games! I’ll put the necklace back into storage, and we’ll go back to the way things were. What do you say, honey?”

  “No!” Vincent scowled. “I loved Celeste. I was never in love with you.”

  Paula snarled. “Then time’s run out for poor old Vincent. Join Celeste if you loved her so much.” She turned the pill case over, spilling its contents onto the deck. It’s too bad you didn’t save him, Kayla. Vincent keeled over before you got a pill into his mouth and he fell over the railing at the same spot Celeste committed suicide. Romantic, isn’t it? Just like one of his sappy movie scripts.”

  “Celeste only wanted a baby, not a husband. I found her note and used the top half to prove her death would be suicide. Tonight I used the bottom half of her note to lure you here.”

  She held the gun under Vinc
ent’s nose. “I loved you more than Celeste! All these years I’ve sacrificed for you. After you’re dead, I’ll just have your money to love!”

  In one fluid motion, Paula bent down, grabbed Vincent’s knees and levered him over the railing. Flailing desperately, he grabbed the top rail and banged against the banister with a loud grunt. “Paula!” he gasped. “Don’t do this!”

  Paula laughed. “Charming young men will flock to my side. I’ll get all the attention for a change. Good-bye, lover.” She hammered his fingers with the gun to loosen his grip.

  Kayla charged to the railing and tried to grab Vincent. Paula whirled and smashed the gun into the side of her head. Kayla slumped to the deck, dazed. “You’re another problem!” Paula growled. “It’s too bad you delivered that note! Everyone saw how crazy it made Vincent, crazy enough to kill—again. He shot you, suffered a heart attack, and fell overboard.”

  “No one will believe it! There’s no place to hide on this ship. They’ll find you.”

  “I’m a makeup artist, you know. That’s how I met old Vincent. I’ve been walking around the ship all day and not one person recognized me, including you! Besides, you told everyone I flew out this morning so nobody will look for me. I’ll turn up in the states, the estranged wife who escaped from a violent husband! It’s a perfect plan. I get all Celeste’s money and her great jewelry.” She fingered the emerald necklace. “It’s been a shame that I couldn’t wear this in public. I’ll find it in Vincent’s safety deposit box, and everyone will think he killed her for her money.”

  Paula pointed the gun at Kayla and squeezed the trigger. As she fired the deck rattled violently, deflecting the shot. The bullet zinged past Kayla, hitting the bulkhead as she scrambled away.

  Paula screamed in frustration.

  Vincent heaved his body against the railing, scraping his toes against the side of the ship, and tried to swing his leg over the top. Paula slammed into his torso, dislodging his grip.