“Don’t worry about that.” Quinn absentmindedly waved off her concern. “I’m not in any danger of losing my job. Even if I were, I wouldn’t have done anything differently. That woman was out of control last night.”
“I wonder why.”
Quinn shifted his head so he could search Rowan’s face for answers to an unasked question. “I think she’s the type of person who is always in control so when she falls off the rails she does it with tremendous force. It’s always worrisome when you’re dealing with someone that tightly wound.”
“That’s true.” Rowan scratched her cheek as she ran the previous night’s escapades through her head. “So … um … about what she said … .”
“About you not thinking of me as if I’m your boyfriend?”
Rowan nodded. “That’s not exactly what I said when she questioned me.”
“Okay.” Quinn thought they would have a few minutes together before they hit the heavy stuff but he was eager to get it out of the way so he dived headfirst into the conversation. “What did you say?”
“First off, you should know that she made a big show about the entire thing,” Rowan supplied. “She wanted to intimidate me. She asked if we were together … monogamous … and I was going to answer that we were and then I wondered if that was my place. I didn’t think that I should answer for you, so I told her she would have to ask you.”
“Uh-huh.” Quinn’s face was unreadable as he absorbed the information. “How would you have responded if you weren’t worried about overstepping your bounds?”
“I … .” Rowan broke off, unsure how to answer. “I don’t know. Guys don’t like being crowded and that’s not how I want you to feel. We haven’t been dating very long – which was exactly what I told her – and the entire conversation made me uncomfortable because it’s not the sort of thing I expected to have to deal with at this point in the dating cycle.
“I mean … she’s a grown woman,” she continued. “Daphne DuBois runs a million-dollar company and she’s in charge of hundreds of employees and sales representatives and she made me feel as if I was stuck in high school again. I didn’t like the feeling.”
“I guess that’s fair,” Quinn hedged. “You should know that I wasn’t angry with you because you said that to her. I also wasn’t agitated because you didn’t answer in a specific way.”
“That’s good.” Rowan was relieved. “I didn’t know because you pulled away really fast and it was almost as if you wanted to get away from me.”
“I did want to get away from you.”
Rowan stiffened. “Oh.”
“Not for the reasons you think, though,” Quinn reassured her. “I was kind of … hurt.” It was hard to grit out the word but Quinn managed to accomplish the task, averting his gaze out of embarrassment. “I didn’t realize until you said I wasn’t your boyfriend that I wanted to be your boyfriend.”
Rowan pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the hangdog expression on his face. “Ah, so we are back in high school after all. I didn’t realize the Bounding Storm was a portal to the past as well as a way to earn money for the future.”
“Very cute.” Quinn poked her side. “I knew it was unreasonable to feel that way and yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself. It got worse when I hit the tiki bar and found you with that guy.”
“Jamie?”
“I don’t want to know his name. He bugs me.”
Rowan burst out laughing. “You didn’t even talk to him.”
“No, but I could tell by the way that he looked at you that he was interested,” Quinn argued. “I think I’m going to have to get used to that, though. My girlfriend is hot and we live on a cruise ship, so people are naturally going to hit on her whenever I turn my back. It’s the way of the world.”
“Girlfriend?”
“You heard me.” Quinn propped himself up on his elbow so he could stare down at Rowan’s surprised face. “I didn’t want to get involved with anyone. You know that. Now, not only has it happened, but I’m also enjoying it. I don’t want to look back. I want to see where this goes and I have no interest in dating anyone else.”
“Don’t you want to send me one of those notes where I check a box if I want to be your girlfriend?” Rowan challenged. “You know, ‘do you want to go out with me? Check yes or no.’”
Quinn barked out a laugh, genuinely amused. “I can write a note if that makes you feel better. That seems more elementary than high school, though.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Rowan tapped her chin. “We need a cootie catcher if we’re truly going to be in high school.”
“What’s a cootie catcher?”
“It’s a girl thing. You wouldn’t get it.” She ran her fingers up and down his well-muscled arm. “Just for the record, I would check the ‘yes’ box if you wrote me a note.”
“Good.” Quinn dropped a soft kiss on her mouth, sinking into it and ratcheting up the heat a notch when he heard her sigh. After a few minutes, he reluctantly pulled back and studied the planes of her face. “I think that catches us up on the heavy conversations, right?”
Rowan nodded. “Oh, well, other than me thanking you again for leaving the rose in front of my door. I did it last night, but I think you were already out by the time I remembered my manners. It’s a beautiful flower, though. For future reference, you could’ve attached the note to the flower and made it really official if you were feeling adventurous.”
Instead of smiling, Quinn furrowed his brow. “What rose?”
“I … that rose.” Rowan swiveled and pointed to the flower on the nightstand. “I found it in front of my door and thought … you didn’t leave it for me?”
Quinn shook his head as he studied the bloom. “I’m kind of kicking myself because I didn’t think of it – although I would never buy a pink one because I now hate that color thanks to the Cara G Cosmetics people – but it wasn’t me. There wasn’t a note?”
Rowan shook her head. “That’s why I assumed it was from you.”
“I’m sorry, Ro, but it wasn’t me.” Quinn pushed himself to a sitting position, scratching his chin as he mulled the situation. “Did anyone else have flowers in front of their doors?” When Rowan didn’t immediately answer he turned his full attention to her. “Ro, did you hear me?”
Rowan snapped herself out of whatever reverie she fell into. “Oh, um, I didn’t look around. I guess it’s possible that they were put in front of everyone’s door and I simply didn’t notice. I was really tired when I came back here yesterday afternoon.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Quinn cupped the back of her head. “I’ll ask around about the flower. I’m sure it’s not a big deal. Heck, maybe you have a secret admirer on the staff, for all we know. He’s going to have to get in line because I’ve already staked my claim.”
Rowan snickered. “That’s what boyfriends do.”
Quinn matched her grin for grin. “You went somewhere a second ago,” he said, lowering his voice. “Where?”
“I didn’t … .”
“You did. Where? I would really like to know.”
“You called me Ro,” Rowan admitted, sheepish. “That’s what my father used to call me.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry.” Quinn wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but he suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I can call you something else.”
“No, it’s fine,” Rowan offered hurriedly. “No one has called me that in a very long time. It was … nice. That’s all I was thinking.”
“Okay, well, I can keep calling you that.” Quinn drew her close and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to buy you the flower. I’ll try to remember to do it myself at a future date. It can’t be now, though, because then it would seem like I’m copying someone and I’m an original.”
Rowan giggled. “You’re definitely an original.”
“You’re an original, too,” Quinn pointed out. “That’s why we fit.”
Rowan joined her hand with Quinn�
�s and stared at the interweaving pattern their fingers made. “We definitely fit. Speaking of fitting, though, I don’t suppose we could get some breakfast, could we? I’m starving.”
At the mention of food, Quinn’s stomach growled. “You and me both, Ro. Let’s get ready for the day and hit the buffet, shall we? I could use a nice omelet and bacon.”
“You read my mind.”
Quinn smiled. “Not yet, but I hope to get there one day.” He planted a firm kiss on her lips before rolling out of bed. “You have twenty minutes to shower and get ready. Now that you’ve mentioned food, it’s all I can think about.”
“UGH! WHY did you let me eat so much?”
Quinn was feeling pretty good about himself – the heavy conversation with Rowan erasing any worries and doubts that plagued him from the night before – and when he pushed back his empty plate he realized he’d stuffed himself to what should’ve been unnatural limits.
“This is what happens when we eat in the main dining room,” Rowan pointed out, finishing off her tomato juice with a flourish. “We stuff ourselves silly and then blame each other because our pants cut off circulation.”
“What do you suggest we do about this?”
“We could eat in the employee dining room,” Rowan suggested. “The food isn’t nearly as good there and we wouldn’t eat half as much. It would be good for our cholesterol levels at the very least.”
Quinn made a disgusted face. “Yeah, I’m going to stick with the homemade omelets. I occasionally have dreams about them.”
“You’re a weird man.”
“I occasionally have dreams about you, too.”
Rowan blinked rapidly as her cheeks flushed with color. “Oh, um … .”
“You’re adorable.” Quinn shook his head, amused. “I wonder if I could combine those dreams. I mean … if I put you together with the omelet, I think I might be a happy man forever.”
“Okay, that took a weird turn.” Rowan wrinkled her nose. “Now I’m going to be plagued by visions of myself rolling around in a huge omelet … or wearing an omelet as a hat. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Quinn’s grin was lazy as he ran his fingers over Rowan’s knee. Instead of sitting across from her he opted to take the chair to her right so he could touch her whenever he wanted. He didn’t care if that they drew the occasional curious stare. He only cared about what he was feeling. It was a nice change of pace.
“There you are.” Demarcus, his chest heaving, hurried to the edge of the table. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Define everywhere,” Quinn ordered, working overtime to keep his temper in check. “We’re having breakfast, by the way. I’ll be on the clock in twenty minutes. Can this wait until then?”
“Uh, no. It can’t wait until then.” Demarcus vehemently shook his head. “As for where I looked, I started at your room and ended my journey at Rowan’s room. They were both empty.”
“So you hardly looked everywhere.”
Rowan smiled as Quinn winked at her. “You found him now,” she said. “What’s going on? You seem worked up.”
Now that he had a chance to better study the affable bartender up close, Quinn couldn’t help but agree. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, yeah. Something is definitely wrong.” Demarcus lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “The maids found a dead body on the fifth floor.”
Quinn’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Demarcus gritted out. He was determined to make sure none of the guests overheard the conversation. “There’s a dead woman on the fifth floor … and when you hear who it is, you’re not going to be happy.”
“Penny Parker?” Rowan immediately asked, her heart rolling. She’d failed the woman despite the offered warning the night before. She couldn’t help but feel guilty.
Demarcus shot her an odd look. “No, but you’re close.”
“Daphne DuBois,” Quinn deduced, dumbfounded. “I … are you sure?”
“We’re definitely sure,” Demarcus said. “We called Michael to the scene and he ordered us to find you. He’s not happy.”
“No, I’m guessing not.” Quinn exchanged a quick look with Rowan. “This is not going to be good.”
Rowan couldn’t help but think that was probably a grotesque understatement. “We should go there now. We can’t afford to wait on this in case … well, in case it’s only the beginning.”
Quinn understood what she was saying without further probing. He extended his hand and inclined his chin toward the door. “Come on. Things are about to get bad.”
12
Twelve
Rowan fought her nerves as she followed Quinn to Daphne’s room. He gripped her hand tightly until they got off the elevator, giving it a solid squeeze before releasing as he caught Michael’s gaze. The captain, who was usually gregarious, looked grave.
“Is she really dead?”
Michael nodded. “There’s no mistaking what she is for anything other than dead.”
Quinn nodded, briefly locking gazes with Rowan before sliding past the somber captain. His gaze immediately fell on the body. Daphne was face down on the bed, her legs bent at the knee and supporting some of her weight as she dipped over the side. Her flaxen hair was askew, something Quinn hadn’t seen since she arrived, and it sat at an odd angle on top of her head.
“What the … ?”
“It’s a wig,” Rowan supplied, causing him to jolt when he realized she’d entered the room with him. “I figured it was either a wig or a weave given how it didn’t move even when attacked by a stiff breeze.” She leaned closer, studying the seam along the back of Daphne’s head. “It’s sewn in.”
“Is that important?” Quinn asked, unsure what she was getting at.
Rowan shrugged. “I think it means she wanted people to think that was her real hair. If she was doing it so she could change up her look on a regular basis she would’ve used the wigs with the rubber lip.” She gestured with her hands to show him how the other type of hairpiece slipped on. “This looks like real hair, which means it cost a lot of money.”
“I’m still not sure why that’s important,” Quinn hedged.
“Her real hair was dark.” Rowan pointed to strands of hair poking out through the bottom wig seam. “I don’t know that it’s important, but she was clearly trying to hide the fact that she was a brunette.”
“Why not just dye her hair?”
Rowan held her hands palms up. “I can’t answer that without seeing her hair. Maybe there was something wrong with it, the texture or something. Or maybe something else was going on. I simply don’t know.”
“Okay.” Quinn wet his lips. “You can stay in here, but I need you to be careful not to touch anything.”
“Oh.” It hadn’t even occurred to Rowan that she shouldn’t enter. “Do you want me to wait outside in the hallway? I’m more than willing to do that. I didn’t think. I’m so sorry.”
“You can stay,” Quinn repeated. “I might want your expertise on some of this … um … woman stuff she has on the counter over there.”
Rowan arched an eyebrow. “Woman stuff? Are we talking tampons or wombs?”
“Very funny.” Quinn rolled his eyes until they landed on Daphne’s body. He dropped to his knees, peering closely at her neck region without using his fingers to shift her hair and steadfastly ignoring her frozen gaze. “We’re going to need a full autopsy, but I’m pretty sure she was strangled.”
“Do you have someone on the ship who can do an autopsy?” The idea seemed foreign to Rowan. “I mean … you need a professional to do that, right?”
“One of the ship doctors is a former medical examiner. He can do it. He was hired because he can do it, in fact. He’s paid well for his expertise.”
“Where is he?”
“That’s a good question.” Quinn shifted his eyes to Michael. “Where is Dr. Dorchester?”
“He’s on his way,” Michael replied. �
��He had a late night and we woke him up as soon as we made the discovery. He should be here in ten minutes or so.”
“Okay.” Quinn rolled his neck as he stood. “I’m going to need an evidence case. We also need to see if we can come up with workable prints.”
Rowan balked. “Prints? This is technically a hotel room. Won’t there be hundreds of sets of prints?”
“In theory,” Quinn confirmed. “The maids are pretty good and we can eliminate most of the prints by running them through our computers. Those we can’t eliminate will go through standard background checks.”
“All of the guests are printed if we have international ports,” Michael supplied. “We’re lucky because this ship hits two of those this go around. There are other ships that only hit domestic ports and they don’t have fingerprints on file. We’re the opposite … at least this time.”
“Oh, I never even thought about that.” Rowan squared her shoulders. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to look around this room and see if you notice anything out of the ordinary,” Quinn instructed. “Wait until my guys show up with the plastic gloves. Once they do, you can touch things. Before that happens, though, I’m going to need some photographs of the scene. I’ll call one of my guys and see if they can track down a good camera.”
Rowan pressed her lips together and lifted her eyebrows. “Shouldn’t I do that?”
Quinn covered his embarrassment with a cough. “I … um … of course you should do it. I forgot what you did for a living there for a second.”
“I’ll go and get my camera. Do you need me to bring anything else back?”
Quinn shook his head. “Just yourself. Try to be as fast as possible. I don’t want the body moved until we have photos of every inch of this cabin.”
“I’m on it. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
ROWAN SLAPPED on a pair of rubber gloves after finishing with the photos, her gaze steady as it roamed Daphne’s slim back. Quinn was deep in conversation with Dr. Dorchester when she returned, the two of them clearing out of the way to give her room to work. Thankfully her time as a photojournalist taught her to detach emotionally from situations like this. Otherwise the body might unnerve her.
Murky Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 2) Page 10