Quinn sidled closer to Rowan once he was sure she’d completed her task, erasing the distance between them so he could whisper. “You don’t have to stay here. You’ve done more than enough.”
“I have to stay,” Rowan countered. “This is my fault.”
Quinn stilled. “How can you say that? This is not your fault.”
Rowan risked a worried glance at Michael but thankfully he was busy staring down the hallway. She couldn’t very well mention the hopping death omen in front of him, but she couldn’t forget it either. “I should’ve paid better attention to Daphne. I just assumed that she was safe.”
“Why wouldn’t you assume that?”
“Because I know how fast things can change. If anyone knows that, it’s me. I let my dislike of her … my jealousy … get the better of me.”
“That is not true.” Quinn’s tone was grim. “We can’t really talk about this right now, but I promise you we’re going to talk about it later. Until then … stop blaming yourself.”
Rowan pressed her lips together, forming a thin line. “It’s okay. I can’t go back in time to change it. All we can do is try to figure out who did this.”
“We’re still going to talk about it.” Quinn pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Look through her belongings and see if you can figure out if anything is missing. I have no idea what we’re looking for so use your best judgment.”
“Okay.”
Quinn was worried, but he let Rowan walk into the bathroom. He nodded toward Dorchester to give him clearance to begin processing evidence on the body. “See if you can get fingerprints from around the neck area. I’m pretty sure she was strangled.”
“Let me see.” Dorchester shuffled forward, his wire-rimmed glasses perched low on his nose as he knelt. “Yeah, I think you’re definitely right. The skin is discolored and I’m going to bet that when I get in there her windpipe is swollen, perhaps even crushed.”
“Can you give me an idea for time of death?”
Dorchester lifted Daphne’s hand and narrowed his eyes as he studied her fingernails. “I don’t see any skin under here so it doesn’t look like she got a piece of her attacker. As for time of death, I need to get a better look, but given lividity I’m going to tentatively put time of death around seven hours ago so … let’s say two in the morning.”
Quinn nodded, running the math through his head. “That was seven hours after I walked her back to her room.”
“Speaking of that, you have an alibi, right?” Michael’s expression was plaintive. “Please tell me you have an alibi, because if you don’t, I’m going to have to put someone else on this and that’s the last thing I want.”
“I was with Rowan.”
“Doing?”
“Sleeping.”
Michael shifted his gaze to the bathroom but Rowan didn’t poke her head out to engage in the conversation. “She’ll confirm that, right?”
Quinn sighed, tugging on his limited patience. “We went to bed early because we were exhausted. We slept in the same bed. She’ll confirm it.”
“Good.” Michael was genuinely relieved. “For personal reference, were you guys naked?”
Quinn scowled. “Do you always have to take it to that place?”
Michael shrugged, unbothered by his friend’s accusatory tone. “I simply want to know if you took it to that place.”
“Mind your own business.” Quinn turned his attention to the cabin door, hunkering down so he could stare at the latching mechanism. “It doesn’t look like there was forced entry. We need to check and see if anyone used the keycard entry after Daphne was deposited here.”
“Did she have her keycard when you brought her back?”
Quinn searched his memory. “Yeah. She had to fumble in her pocket for it and she kept throwing herself at me while she was searching, but she had her keycard. I walked her inside, filled a glass full of water and put it next to the bed, and then left. She had the card in her hand last time I saw it.”
“It’s still here,” Dorchester offered, gesturing toward the side of the mattress. “It’s tangled in the sheets on the right side of the bed.”
“She’s still dressed,” Quinn pointed out. “That means it wasn’t a sexual assault, which is good for everyone concerned. She fell on the bed before I left, offered me a lewd suggestion, and then started talking to herself. I could tell she was going to pass out – and soon – so I wasn’t worried about her wandering around the ship.”
“She obviously got up at some point,” Dorchester noted. “She’s not under the covers and she either let someone in the room or woke up to find someone inside her room and was attacked at that point.”
“It could be either situation.” Quinn rubbed the back of his neck as he shifted from one foot to the other. “I’ll check on the keycard reader. I’ll send my men out to canvas the guests in this area to see if they saw something. So late at night, though, the odds of having a witness probably aren’t great.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Dorchester supplied. “The other way to look at it is that if someone was in the hallway during those hours, the guests are more likely to remember.”
“Unless they were drunk, which is probably a given since it was so late.”
“There is that.” Dorchester heaved out a sigh. “Either way, she didn’t put up much of a fight. The alcohol could’ve incapacitated her, but the surprise of the attack might’ve put her at a distinct disadvantage, too.”
“Or it could’ve been a combination of both.”
“I don’t envy you your job,” Dorchester said, mustering a rueful smile. “I deal with facts. You have to put the facts together. It can’t be easy.”
“No, it’s definitely not easy,” Quinn said. “Keep me updated. It’s going to be a full day.”
QUINN WALKED Rowan to her office so she could upload the body photos to a flash drive. She was largely quiet for the trek and Quinn wanted nothing more than to comfort her. He managed to keep his hands to himself until they were safely inside, then he grabbed her arm and jerked her to him.
“This is not your fault,” he growled, stroking the back of her head. “Stop thinking that.”
Rowan widened her eyes. “How did you know I was thinking that?”
“Because I’m not an idiot,” he replied. “I’ve watched you struggle for three straight hours and it’s driving me crazy. Let it go.”
“Let it go?” Rowan pulled back slightly. “Can you let it go? You were probably the last person to see her before her killer made a move. I know that has to be bothering you.”
“It does bother me,” Quinn confirmed. “It bothers me a great deal. I’m not the type to blame myself unless I’ve earned it, though. I haven’t earned it in this instance. We had no reason to believe something was going to happen to her.”
“Except for the attack on the deck, an attack we both discarded because we didn’t believe her.”
Quinn stilled. He’d almost forgot about the purported attack. “You have a point.” He ran his hands up and down Rowan’s arms as he considered their predicament. “I still have trouble believing she was attacked that night. Where did the attacker come from?”
Rowan shrugged. “There’s a stairwell about thirty feet from that railing. Maybe whoever it was ran in that direction.”
“Except Daphne said that it was a woman … and that she practically disappeared into thin air and she couldn’t identify which way the attacker ran.”
“I forgot that she said it was a woman.” Rowan knit her eyebrows together. “Could a woman strangle someone with her bare hands?”
“It doesn’t take a lot of pressure to strangle someone,” Quinn supplied. “It sometimes takes longer than you might expect, though, especially if you relieve the pressure long enough for the victim to get a few gasps of oxygen. Then you have to start all over again.”
“That’s … lovely.”
“It wouldn’t have been pretty.” Quinn rolled his neck until it cracked. “
Given how Daphne was positioned on the bed, I think it was done from behind. That’s the only scenario that makes sense to me.”
Rowan arched an eyebrow. “So they wouldn’t have to look her in the eye?”
“That would be my guess. Even if you hate someone, it’s hard to watch a person die.”
Rowan wanted to ask how many people Quinn had watched die, but she figured now wasn’t the right time. Heck, there might never be a right time. “So what do we do now?”
“Well, for starters, we’re going to stop blaming ourselves,” Quinn ordered, his voice firm. “You said it yourself, we can’t go back in time and change things. We can only move forward and solve this, and we have a limited time to do it because the ship won’t be on the open sea forever.”
“You have a point. There’s something else we have to do, too.”
“What?”
“Take a new photo of Penny.”
It took a moment for Quinn to grasp what Rowan was saying. “Oh. Do you think she’s in danger? I assumed she was safe now that Daphne died.”
“I’ve never dealt with jumping omens like this before,” Rowan admitted. “There has to be a reason why. Whatever that reason is, Daphne was first on the chopping block and then Penny became the intended victim. Something happened last night to force the focus back to Daphne.”
“And we need to figure out what it is.” Quinn rubbed his chin. “We need to focus on what Penny did differently last night.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
“We’re going to run the evidence and then put together a plan of attack for questioning her,” Quinn replied without hesitation. “She’s probably going to be devastated by her boss’s death, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a suspect. She had as much reason to hate Daphne as anybody.”
“The problem is, I think any of these women could’ve harbored the hate to kill Daphne,” Rowan noted. “Just because you’re capable of hate, though, that doesn’t mean you’re capable of murder. Only one of those women managed to do that despite the rampant hate.”
“So let’s figure out which one it is,” Quinn said. “The sooner we do, the sooner we can let this go and have another perfect date.”
Rowan’s smile was soft but earnest. “That sounds nice.”
“It definitely does.”
13
Thirteen
“What are you doing?”
Rowan jerked at the sound of Sally’s voice, her finger inadvertently depressing on her camera button and capturing a rapid fifty frames on her memory disk. “You frightened me.” Rowan worked overtime to calm her racing heart as she forced a smile for her friend’s benefit. “Make a noise next time.”
“Sorry.” Sally smirked, completely unapologetic. “I’ll buy a bell from the gift shop later and tie it around my neck.”
“Make sure you pick a pretty ribbon.”
“It won’t be pink because, after this week, if I never see that color again it will be too soon.” Sally made a face as she sat next to Rowan, wrinkling her nose as she watched her friend erase the errant photos. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you were so worked up.”
“I’m hardly worked up,” Rowan corrected. “I’m simply having trouble concentrating.” That wasn’t entirely untrue. Rowan found it difficult to focus on the job she was hired to do when she really wanted to follow Penny from one end of the ship to the other so she could continuously snap photographs by way of protection. So far everything she’d snapped of the woman had come out omen free. Part of her was relieved. The other part believed something awful was yet to happen.
“Is that because Quinn so thoroughly rocked your world last night that you temporarily went blind?”
Rowan’s mouth dropped open. Was that really a thing? “No.”
“Well, that’s disappointing.” Sally made a sympathetic face. “I thought he would have mad skills in the bedroom. He has that look about him, after all. Is his technique bad or is he simply lacking staying power? We can fix both of those problems in time, by the way, so don’t panic just yet.”
“I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation,” Rowan muttered, shaking her head. “For the record, we haven’t gotten that far yet. When we do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“But I thought he spent the night in your room.”
“He did.”
“And nothing?”
“We slept.”
“Oh, geez.” Sally vigorously rubbed her hand up and down her cheek. “Do you need me to rent some movies? We can probably find something when we hit port if you need inspiration. In fact, I think that gift shop on the corner by the lobby entrance has dirty books if you’re desperate.”
“No offense, Sally, but sex isn’t my top priority right now.” Rowan fought to keep her voice even so she wouldn’t accidentally snap at the woman. “You heard we’re dealing with a dead body, right?”
“I heard.” Sally didn’t look particularly perturbed by the revelation. “You guys spent the night together before that crone died, though. You can’t really use her as an excuse.”
“Actually, we can,” Rowan countered. “She caused a scene last night and Quinn had to escort her to her room. By the time we got back to my room we were both exhausted. All we wanted to do was go to sleep.”
“Is he a bad kisser?”
“No!”
“I don’t understand this.” Sally made furtive jerking motions with her head, as if she was a chicken and wanted to make her displeasure known to the rest of her flock. “I seriously don’t understand this. Every woman on this ship has been salivating after Quinn since he arrived. We’ve built him up to mythical proportions.
“You got him,” she continued. “You took everyone by surprise and grabbed him up, wrapped him in a bow, and tied him to your most precious gift in a way that seemed to indicate he had no escape.”
“You have an absolutely filthy mind,” Rowan complained.
“I was talking about your heart.”
Rowan had the grace to look abashed. “Oh, well … um … sorry.”
“I’m just kidding. I was talking about your lady bits.” Sally didn’t bother to hide her smile. “Are you guys waiting for a specific reason? I mean … wait … are you a virgin? Are you one of those beautiful unicorns who thinks she needs to wait until marriage? I’ve always wanted to meet one of those people. Have I finally done it and missed all the signs?”
Rowan heaved out a sigh and scowled. “I’m not a virgin. Why are you so fixated on sex? It can’t be healthy.”
“Because I want you to get some. I’m dying to live vicariously through your love life.”
“Why not seek out your own love life?”
“I am.” Sally grinned. “Focusing on yours is more fun than lamenting the lack of mine, though. It’s just the way of the world.”
“Speaking of that … .” Rowan was desperate to switch the conversation to a topic she could tolerate.
“Yes, I am a gifted lover.” Sally’s eyes sparkled as she smoothed the hem of her shorts. “If you’re looking to secure a man for me, make sure he knows that fact out of the gate.”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Rowan groused. “I ran into one of those guys from the store the other day, though. I didn’t realize he was one of our guests until he approached me. How did your meeting with them go? I never got a chance to ask.”
“Oh, it went okay.” Sally tossed her hair over her shoulder in a breezy manner. “They’re nice enough, but they’re completely full of themselves. I can only take so much conversation about a car – they’re gearheads, which I find unbelievably annoying – before I want to punch somebody in the face. We had a decent enough time but falling for a guest is a big no-no.”
“Because it’s doomed from the start?” Rowan asked. “I mean you’re dealing with a limited timeframe no matter what so that has to be difficult.”
“The timeframe doesn’t bother me as much as the fact that I hate people who like cruise
s.”
Rowan stilled. “That doesn’t make any sense. You work on a cruise ship.”
“Yes, and if I didn’t make a very good living doing it, I would totally pick another profession,” Sally supplied. “I like the scenery, don’t get me wrong, but cruise ships are annoying. You’re still in the honeymoon phase when it comes to working on a ship. You’ll figure out the very dark reality soon enough.”
Rowan wasn’t convinced that was true. “I kind of like it.”
“That’s because you have a hot man to cuddle up next to at night. Now, if he would just get up the guts to make a move. Do you want me to have Demarcus talk to him? Maybe we need to show him a movie, or perhaps get him one of those books. I can arrange both.”
Rowan shook her head, resigned. There was no changing Sally. In truth, she wouldn’t want to. “On that note … I need to check in with Quinn. I’ll catch up with you later.”
QUINN WAS focused on his computer screen when Rowan walked into his office. He lifted his chin, a smile curling his lips.
“Hey. I was just thinking about you.”
“You look unhappy,” Rowan pointed out, resting her camera on his desk. “In case you’re wondering, by the way, Penny’s photos are clean. There’s no omen in sight. That means she either escaped death because of something that happened last night or that’s still to come in the next few days.”
“Which one do you think it is?”
Rowan shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m not sure what to think.”
“That makes two of us. For the record, though, I’m always happy to see you.” Quinn offered a flirty wink before turning back to his computer. “As for me, I’ve uncovered a few interesting things.”
“Like what?” Rowan couldn’t stop herself from being intrigued and she avidly peered at the screen over Quinn’s shoulder as she perched on the corner of his desk.
“Well, for starters, someone used a key card to enter Daphne’s room at a little after one in the morning,” Quinn volunteered. “Time of death was set around two, but that’s not official yet so we have some wiggle room.”
Murky Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 2) Page 11