Life in the Danger Zone

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Life in the Danger Zone Page 12

by Patricia B Tighe


  “Shall we smile for the camera?” He started twisting me toward the guy.

  “No!”

  Sam let his hands drop and stepped back. “Sorry. Just trying to get you to relax.”

  “It’s okay. But it’s just—If that guy is dangerous to me or any of us, in any way, and he has our picture, he doesn’t have to be the one following us. He can get one of his—”

  “Minions?” Sam grinned.

  I pressed my lips together hard, trying to hold back a smile. Why did this guy have to be so cute? “I was gonna say underlings, but minions works, I guess.”

  He draped his arm over my shoulder. “Come on. The others are outside now. And I think you need to stop reading those mysteries. You’re sounding really paranoid.”

  I held back a sigh as he led me over to our group. He was right. I’m sure that’s how I sounded. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was absolutely right. I just didn’t have any logical argument to back it up. Why was that guy here? He could’ve called Clio if he needed to talk to her. There was something going on that was way beyond one shy teenage girl on summer vacation. And I didn’t know how to figure out what it was.

  ***

  I walked into my cabin and shrugged out of my purse, letting it drop to the floor beside the dresser. I fell onto my bed face-first. What an afternoon. If weirdness kept happening, I didn’t know what I’d do with myself. It was exhausting.

  After the cathedral, Clio had taken us to the Kamerlengo Fortress where we toured around the grounds of this old castle by the sea. I never saw the scary guy again, but my skin prickled with the sense that someone was watching.

  And except for a bathroom break, Clio was around us the whole time. The break turned out to be twenty minutes long, so she could absolutely have met privately with the scary guy, but I didn’t see him anywhere.

  And Sam. I groaned into the mattress. One minute he had his arm around me, and the next he was ten yards away, talking to Jacques. Or Sophie. Or Alexis. It was like the almost kiss last night never happened.

  I shoved myself off the bed. I needed to take a quick shower if I was going to make it to the daily cruise briefing in the lounge on time. My grandparents always insisted that I come, when all I wanted to do was screw around in my room—like dancing to my music or writing in my journal—and take my time getting ready for dinner. But they kept saying that I’d miss important info if I skipped it.

  If I hurried with my shower, though, I might have time to record today’s events in my journal before I had to go. Because the scary guy wasn’t the only thing that happened. I’d also asked the lady at reception about a blond crew member.

  Her face had gone completely blank. As if I’d said something in a foreign language. But then she said, “Perhaps it’s Nora. She’s one of our spa attendants.”

  Practically wiggling with excitement, I’d lifted a hand like her name had just come back to me. “Oh, of course. Nora. How could I have forgotten? Thank you.”

  And now as I stripped off my clothes, I wanted to hit myself. Why hadn’t I remembered Nora before now? She’d been the one to do Alexis and Sophie’s pedicures. I guess I hadn’t thought of the spa ladies as crew members. And she definitely had blond hair.

  I turned on the shower. What I needed to do this evening was see if the Sun Visor Lady would ask her sister about Nora. Maybe they could take a surveillance trip to the spa. The Sun Visor Lady would like that, but I couldn’t begin to guess if her sister would. And if they gave Nora a positive ID as the one at the deck bar when the bracelet was stolen? I’d need to make a plan. Figure out if it would be better to spy on Nora or ask her questions.

  I stepped under the spray of water, the heat relaxing all my tense muscles. I’d need to be super careful, because whoever the thief was, she was still stealing things—if Nick’s comment about a missing watch last night could be believed. And more things could have been taken without people being aware of it yet.

  After finishing my shower, I dried off, slipped on the bathrobe, and went to update the journal. I had at least ten minutes before I had to move into getting ready mode. But when I opened the top drawer of the dresser, I saw no journal. I’d been keeping it underneath my hair straightener and curling iron, which were still in the drawer. Just no journal.

  Strange. Maybe I’d left it somewhere else in my hurry to go on the excursion. I checked on the shelves by the bed. Nothing. I pulled my suitcase out from underneath the bed and unzipped it. The journal devoted to Lindsey’s challenge was right where I’d left it—lying there in all its red with white hearts glory. I’d hidden it because I didn’t want it to be available for my grandpa to “accidentally” read. He did that kind of thing occasionally—not often, but enough to make me careful. Which also reminded me that I hadn’t kept that list for Lindsey current. Whatever. Everything I’d been doing on this trip was a “first” for me. She’d gotten her wish.

  But these thoughts weren’t helping me find the other journal. What had I done with it? I looked at every surface where I might’ve tossed it, rotating slowly like something unraveling. A steady thrum pulsed in my temples. My breathing went tight.

  What if the journal wasn’t here? I shook my head immediately. No, I needed to keep looking.

  I started by the bed, using the flashlight on my phone to light up every dark corner underneath the bed, and then the table, and then behind the dresser. The other cabinets were built-ins, so I opened every drawer, felt behind the mini-liquor bottles, and even looked in the small refrigerator. And with every move I made, a vise tightened across my chest.

  The closet only held my clothes and shoes. I used the footstool to search the upper shelves, but still nothing. I climbed up and pulled the life jackets out of their compartment. Looked behind the flat-screen TV—yeah, desperation will do that to you.

  I emptied every drawer in the dresser, laying out piles of underwear, shorts, and shirts all over the bed. Pulled out my backpack to make sure it was empty. Was it possible to have asthma when you’d never had asthma before? I raced into the bathroom and checked all the compartments around and under the sink.

  I stumbled back out to the center of the room. There had to be somewhere I hadn’t looked. But even as I thought it, I sank to the carpet. The journal was gone. And the only thing in it was stuff about the thefts and my thoughts on everybody in our group. Yeah, Rose, just those two small things. Nobody wants to read about that stuff.

  There was still a chance that Darl could’ve set it somewhere out of the way while cleaning and forgot to put it back. Although that hadn’t happened in the last three days. Things were always right where I left them, except a bit more straightened up.

  There was also a chance my grandparents had it; they had a key to my room after all. I might have to murder them if they took it—mostly for putting me through so much trauma. And then for getting into my private business. It wasn’t really even that private. I’d told them part of what was written in it and was planning to tell them the rest. When I had the chance.

  A knock sounded on the door, followed by my grandmother’s voice as though my current brainwaves had summoned her. “Rose? We’re headed to the cruise update session. See you there.”

  “Okay,” I called out. A moment later, I almost ran to the door to call them back, to tell them what was happening. But I stopped myself. I needed to be calm when I told them about this. Calm and logical. Not frantic.

  I inhaled a long breath and let it out slowly. Okay. I could do this. I’d figure it out. Somehow. First, I had to get ready. A quick glance at the clock had me cussing under my breath. I had ten minutes until the thing in the lounge started. My hair was a wreck, I wasn’t dressed, and I had no makeup on. Right. Come on, Rose. First things first.

  I jumped to my feet, whipped off the bathrobe, and moved through the room like it was on fire. I threw everything back into the dresser so Darl wouldn’t be treated to a view of my underwear, and then pulled on the best dre
ss I’d brought on the trip—an aqua skater dress with an illusion lace bodice. I always felt like swirling around a room when I had it on, but I doubted there’d be a lot of that going on. It hit mid-thigh, an inch or so longer than the skirt I wore last night, which meant it would be easier to sit in those chairs in the lounge during Sophie’s birthday party without exposing myself.

  I gazed at my reflection in the mirror and groaned. My hair had gone all wavy, and I had no time to fix it. The best I could do was fasten the side sections loosely together in back, letting my new blond strips dangle in front. It wasn’t bad considering that moments before I’d looked like I’d been in a tornado. I went with bare minimum makeup—mascara, blush, and lip gloss. I was already five minutes late; I couldn’t do more.

  Sliding my keycard in my pocket—another thing I loved about this dress—I left the room and walked as quickly as I could in my heels up the stairs and toward the lounge. When I reached the entrance, I stopped. Crap. The room was full of people with eager, sunburned faces—or maybe they were just tipsy—lifted attentively to the cruise director talking about tomorrow’s itinerary.

  I finally found my grandparents off to the right. They’d saved me a seat right beside the Sun Visor Lady. Just who I needed to talk to. I sighed, letting go of the tension of the past hour. And as soon as the cruise director was talking about something on his power point, I walked in, focusing on each step so I didn’t end up sprawling. I made it, but my face burned anyway. I mean, come on; I was entering a room full of people watching me. Or they could’ve been. I smiled at my grandparents and then at Mrs. Stanton. “I need to talk to you,” I whispered.

  She nodded and indicated the cruise director.

  Right. Because we were on vacation. Just because there was a mystery to solve didn’t mean it had to happen right this second. Ha.

  I turned my attention to the cruise guy and sucked in a tiny breath. Seated off to the side right behind him were the three ladies from the spa in white uniforms of skirts and utilitarian blouses. Yup, Nora was there, her blond hair in a neat French twist. I didn’t have to ask Mrs. Stanton and her sister to visit the spa. They could identify Nora from across the room.

  The cruise guy spent five more minutes talking about Dubrovnik and looked briefly behind him. “Before we release”—polite laughter fluttered around the room—“those with early dinner reservations, the head of our skilled spa attendants would like a few words.” He held out the mic. “Madeleine?”

  A tall woman with dark brown hair in a high bun approached the cruise director. Here was my chance. I leaned closer to Mrs. Stanton. “Do you see the spa attendant over there with the blond hair?” I whispered.

  She lifted her chin in acknowledgement.

  “Could you ask your sister if she’s the blond crew member from that first day?”

  Mrs. Stanton adjusted her glasses and then turned to her sister.

  “We have a few openings for facials and massages on the last few days of the cruise,” the spa lady was saying. “So we are offering a thirty percent off discount on those services. Please come see us for details.” She handed the mic back to the cruise director.

  I twirled my foot at the ankle, definitely better than jiggling my leg, and tried to eavesdrop on Mrs. Stanton and her sister. No-go. They were too quiet.

  Finally, after some intense whispering, Mrs. Stanton turned back to me. “She said, and I quote, ‘I said a round face, Carol. The cheekbones on that woman’s face could cut a steak.’”

  I laughed even as I deflated in my chair. A dead end. “Thank you for asking her.”

  “My pleasure,” she said, glancing around at the people getting up. “Well, time for dinner. Keep me posted.”

  “I will.”

  Mrs. Stanton and her sister joined the people funneling through the door. I turned to see my grandmother watching me. “Not bothering those ladies, are you?”

  “No, Mrs. Stanton wants to be kept informed. I haven’t talked to her sister at all.”

  A section of silver hair swung forward from Grams’s face. “And just what are you keeping her informed about?”

  Uh-oh. I forgot my grandparents were pretty much out of the loop. Which reminded me of the missing journal. Which made my stomach hurt. I gave her an overly bright smile. “Can we talk about this at dinner?”

  Seventeen

  Sam

  I couldn’t stop looking at Rose. A couple of minutes ago, she’d stood in the entry to the lounge looking kind of flustered, and if it hadn’t meant crossing in front of the guy giving the talk on Dubrovnik, I so would’ve gone to see what was wrong.

  Not to mention she looked fantastic. Her dress was a blue-greeny color. Her legs looked impossibly long. And her hair— Well, let’s just say it was different. Instead of her usual straight style, thick waves fell across her shoulders. She looked like a model from a Renaissance painting who’d stepped into modern times. I wanted to bury my hands in that hair. I wanted to breathe it in. I wanted to lock myself in my room and not come out until we docked in Venice.

  Because I had to do everything possible not to act like my uncle or my dad. I had to take the high road. No fast and easy hookups. Rose deserved better.

  But then she smiled, and it practically radiated from her whole being. I was toast. Hosed. Lost. I liked this girl way more than I should. We’d met only four days ago. I didn’t understand her fear of Clio’s grumpy cousin. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to drag her out on deck, pull her against me, and kiss her until neither of us could stand up anymore.

  I was a complete and total idiot.

  Now Rose was talking to that lady again. The one with the iron-gray hair she spoke to a couple of nights ago. Who was the woman? A family friend? Or had she just met Rose on this trip like we had? It didn’t surprise me that they looked so friendly. Rose was easy to be around. But I still wanted to know what they were talking about.

  “Is Rose using her mind control on you again?” Alexis asked, a little too close to my ear.

  I raised a hand to brush her away. “Back off.”

  “I was just wondering why you hadn’t moved a muscle in the last oh”—she looked at her watch—“eight minutes?”

  How did I know this was going to happen? Alexis, in for the kill. “Very funny.”

  “I’m not joking. Even now, you’ve barely glanced at me.”

  I made myself turn completely toward her. “Is this what you want?”

  Alexis smirked, tossing her head of curls. “What I want is for you to admit how much you like Rose.”

  I let out a scoffing laugh. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “That does happen occasionally.” She smiled so that her eyes went all squinty. “But not this time.”

  “Shut up.”

  Alexis laughed. “I shall never be thwarted! The truth will out.”

  Uncle David stood in front of us, brushing something off the arm of his dress shirt. “Sounds like someone needs food.”

  People were leaving the lounge. I snuck a quick look to see that Rose was still talking to her grandparents. “Yes,” I said, “your daughter always needs food when she starts outing the truth.”

  My uncle gave me a wry look. “Don’t I know it.” He waved a hand toward Sophie, who was looking at the brochure the spa women had passed out. “Up everybody. Alexis needs to eat.”

  “Why are people blaming this on me?” Alexis asked, still looking extremely pleased.

  Sophie grabbed Alexis’s hand. “Come on. We’ll meet you two at the front of the restaurant. We’re going to the bathroom.”

  “Hurry,” Uncle David said to their backs. “My stomach is growling.”

  They didn’t respond. I got up slowly, watching my uncle watch the Flirty Lady, who was leaving the lounge with a group of people. I really needed to talk to him. Was now a good time? Probably not. But at least I could get on his schedule. “So, hey,” I said, and waited for him to look b
ack at me. “I was wondering if you had time to talk tonight.”

  “How about now?” he asked.

  “It’s a longer conversation than the thirty seconds it’ll take to get to the restaurant.”

  He eyed me. “There’s not some trouble, I hope?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I just want to sound you out about some things.”

  We moved toward the exit. “Sure, I’d like that. Right after supper then? Before Sophie’s party gets in full swing?”

  Right. Sophie’s party. I’d almost forgotten. “Sounds good.”

  ***

  After dinner, my uncle and I viewed the rolling wake at the back of the ship for several minutes without speaking. I didn’t know how to start. I knew I was going to piss him off.

  Uncle David faced me. “I can’t believe my little Sophie is eighteen today. When’s your birthday, again?”

  “November twenty-fourth.”

  “Not long then.”

  “It’s four months away. You don’t think that’s long?”

  “Not really.” He stared back out at the water. “Everybody’s growing up.”

  Speaking of growing up … “So, I have to say something that might make you mad.”

  “This sounds exciting.”

  I swallowed a laugh. Just say it. “Right. Well, I need you to know that I’ve been unhappy with how much time you’ve been spending with the … with Cynthia.”

  My uncle’s gaze immediately flew to where the Flirty Lady sat at a table waiting for him. He looked back at me, the good humor gone from his face. “All right,” he said, his voice flat.

  I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just feel like we’re supposed to be doing this family thing, and half the time you’re off somewhere with her.”

 

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