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Every Body on Deck

Page 4

by G. A. McKevett

“Oh, dear. I’m surprised she’d buy cruise tickets, even cheap ones.”

  Savannah watched as her father-in-law gently guided his dithering wife up to the security check, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

  It warmed Savannah’s heart to see how kindly and lovingly Richard treated his wife—his wife whose company many other people avoided whenever possible. She couldn’t help loving her father-in-law. He embodied the very best of Dirk’s fine qualities, all rolled into one. Minus the curmudgeon factor.

  “Richard bought the tickets before he told her,” Savannah told Tammy. “Her birthday is Tuesday. We’ll be celebrating aboard.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “Yes. He is.”

  “And she saved my life.”

  Savannah nodded, remembering that dark, horrible night, when Dora’s nursing skills and calm, professional ministrations had saved Savannah’s best friend. “Yes, she sure did. I’ll be forever grateful to her.”

  That brief walk down Unpleasant Memory Lane was enough to shake Savannah out of her pouty mood. By the time they had cleared security, which turned out to be much faster and more efficient than an airline checkpoint, she was excited and looking forward to boarding the luxury liner that was to be their home for the next week.

  With Dirk and his parents leading the way, Granny and Waycross behind Savannah and Tammy, and Ryan and John bringing up the rear, the Moonlight Magnolia gang in all its glory exited the gigantic terminal and stepped into the golden Seattle sunlight. Although the morning had been cloudy with occasional drizzle, it seemed as though the weather itself was wishing them a “bon voyage.”

  As they walked along the balcony, they could see their ship, a glistening white beauty called the Arctic Queen, just across the gangway. She was eight decks high, with the sapphire blue logo of the Star of the North Cruise Line wrapped around her middle—a line of eight-point compass stars, with their tips joined east to west.

  The ship was being loaded, which was a study in organized pandemonium. Not only were tons of luggage being stowed on her lower decks, but enough supplies to feed and accommodate over a thousand guests in luxury for seven days and nights.

  The Moonlight entourage made their way from the balcony and onto the gangway.

  “I never thought I’d get to do this,” Granny said as they took a couple of turns, back and forth along the metal walkway, then approached the vessel’s main port side entrance. The large double doors opened into the atrium lobby.

  “I’ve been dreaming of it since I was a girl, and here I am!” Gran said, her voice trembling with excitement.

  Everyone in the group stepped aside to allow her to be the first to enter. As Savannah watched her grandmother step onto the ship, her face glowing with the joy of long-held dreams fulfilled, Savannah silently thanked Natasha Van Cleef for making this moment possible.

  “Lordy, lordy,” Gran breathed, taking in the magnificence of the atrium. “Have you ever seen such a sight!”

  Tammy and Waycross followed. Tammy’s eyes widened, as Waycross said in a deep, Georgia drawl, “Whoa, howdy! Get a load o’ this!”

  Savannah could hardly blame them for being so impressed. Far grander than any hotel Savannah had ever visited, the Arctic Queen’s atrium lobby certainly knew how to impress her visitors.

  Soaring four decks high, the massive room was breathtaking. From its stained glass ceiling, depicting a night sky filled with stars and swirling with the colors of the aurora borealis, to the balconies of each floor with their gilded, filigree railings, to the twin, sweeping staircases that descended to a sparkling water feature in the center of the room, the ship warmly welcomed her passengers, while giving them a taste of luxurious adventures to come.

  Savannah felt Dirk’s big, warm hand close around hers as they strolled toward the center of the room. “This is great, babe,” he said. He pointed to his parents and Granny, who had paused by the fountain to enjoy the beauty of the blue and green lights playing on the water. “It’s really nice to have my folks along for the ride. Thanks for being a good sport about it.”

  “No problem,” she said. “I seem to recall you tossing quite a handful of cash into that cookie jar for Granny. Turnabout’s fair play.”

  She smiled and squeezed his fingers. She was glad she had chosen to be generous. Goodness certainly had its rewards, like having your husband give you a look that said he thought you were the best woman on earth.

  John and Ryan left Tammy and Waycross to enjoy the fountain with the others and walked over to Savannah and Dirk. They had wide, satisfied grins on their faces.

  “This is very nice, indeed,” said John, nodding enthusiastically. Turning to Ryan, he added, “We’ve cruised on larger ships than this, but none so lovely.”

  “That’s for sure,” Ryan replied. “I predict this is going to be a very pleasant trip for all of us.”

  For some reason that she couldn’t explain, Savannah felt a shiver run through her, as though someone had just opened a large porthole nearby and let in a cold draft.

  Yes, if we can keep our client alive, she thought.

  No sooner had the sentence made its chilling transit through her brain than Savannah decided to shift gears into a more serious frame of mind. With the grandeur of the ship enveloping her senses, it would be easy for her and her team to forget why they were here, and that simply wouldn’t do.

  With the feel of the plush, azure blue carpet underfoot, the sparkling crystal chandeliers overhead, and the aroma of fresh-baked pastries and gourmet coffees wafting through the atrium, it was hard to imagine something as horrible and base as murder could be on any of their fellow passengers’ minds.

  But that threatening note was real. Someone with very bad intentions had written it. Even if their purpose had been merely to frighten Natasha Van Cleef, they had succeeded all too well, and that in itself was an act of cruelty.

  Added to the unpleasantness was the icy feeling that was crawling around, deep in Savannah’s gut. A sense that all was not well and was about to get even worse.

  She’d had that feeling many times, and because it never failed to be accurate, she trusted it. The few times she had ignored it, things had turned out badly, indeed.

  Things aren’t going to turn out badly. Not this time. Not on my watch, she told herself.

  “Let’s find out if Natasha and her people are aboard yet,” Savannah said, leading the men past the grand Steinway and over to the reception desk.

  After conferring with a purser and receiving a sealed envelope from him, she returned to Dirk, Ryan, and John. “Ms. Van Cleef left us a letter.”

  Savannah scanned the note, handwritten on elegant linen paper with the scrolled monogram NVC at the top. Turning to Dirk, she said, “She wants you and me to meet her in her room soon after the ship sails. She’s in the penthouse suite.”

  “Of course she is,” Dirk replied with a sniff. “You wouldn’t expect her to bunk with the pigs and chickens down below.”

  “How about her entourage?” Ryan asked, suddenly all business. “Where are they?”

  She didn’t like the suddenly serious look in his green eyes. It occurred to Savannah that perhaps he, too, was sensing something less than festive in the air.

  “Natasha’s husband and personal assistant are in the suite with her. Her editor is aboard, too. She has a regular stateroom, like ours, one deck below Natasha’s and close to ours.”

  “Those three people,” Dirk said, “they’re the only ones aboard with any connection to Natasha?”

  “Presumably,” Savannah told him. “We certainly hope so. But just to make certain, we have to get our hands on the ship’s passenger manifest. Mrs. Van Cleef needs to look it over and see if she recognizes any other names.”

  John looked doubtful. “There was a time, back in the early days of cruising, when passengers were given copies of the manifest and knew who their fellow passengers were. But the world is a far less open and trusting place these days.”


  “With good reason.” From the inside of his jacket, Dirk took a small notebook and pen and began to scribble in it. “You wait and see. I’ll get a copy of that . . . whatever you called it. I’ll wave my shield under their nose, and they won’t dare say no.”

  With a grin Savannah said, “Be sure to ask nicely and say, ‘pretty please.’”

  He snorted. “Oh, yeah. I’m famous for my ‘pretty pleasing.’”

  Savannah glanced over to the center of the room and saw that Granny was walking toward them, having left Richard and Dora to listen to the pianist, and Tammy and Waycross to gaze into the fountain.

  She sidled up to her granddaughter, slipped her arm through Savannah’s, and said, “Okay. Enough of this dillydallying. We’re here to work, and I aim to earn my keep. What’s first on the agenda? You want me to search Ms. Van Cleef’s room, make sure everything’s all safe and sound? I’ll check under the bed and in the closets. Can’t be too careful when it’s a matter o’ life and death.”

  Savannah chuckled to herself, enjoying her grandmother’s enthusiasm and work ethic. “That’s okay, Gran,” she told her. “For the time being anyway, the rest of you guys are off duty.”

  “Not me,” Dirk grumbled. “I’ve gotta wring something called a ‘manifest’ out of somebody before I can relax and kick back.”

  John pulled a gold pocket watch from his linen trousers, flipped it open, and said, “We’ll be setting sail in less than an hour. Would you like Ryan and me to take the others somewhere to get a pleasant beverage? Then we’ll find us all a spot on an upper deck with a nice view of the city for our bon voyage drink.”

  “That would be great,” Savannah told him. “I’ll go with Dirk, just in case he needs a bit of Southern charm to ‘sweeten the pot,’ so to speak. If we get finished in time, we’ll join you.”

  As Savannah and Dirk watched Ryan and John corral the group and head for the rear of the ship, Dirk slipped his arm around her waist.

  “Since when are you the ‘sweet’ half of this crime-fighting duo?” he asked. “I thought when we used to play good cop–bad cop you were the mean one.”

  She giggled and shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve mellowed over the years.”

  Laughing, he said, “Darlin’, ‘mellow’ is not a word I would ever use to describe you. More like a wonderful mix of piss and vinegar.... That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of her head. “I wouldn’t have her any other way.”

  Chapter 5

  Just before the ship sailed, Savannah and Dirk managed to locate their gang on an upper deck, port side. Ryan and John had assembled the perfect seating arrangement to accommodate the entire Moonlight Magnolia agency. Four tables, placed end to end, afforded everyone a great view of the magnificent Seattle skyline as the ship slipped away from the pier.

  For a moment, Savannah allowed herself the luxury of enjoying the experience and recording it in her heart, to be savored for the rest of her life. She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the pungent salt air. She relished the wind’s caress in her hair without worrying about the fact that she’d never get her dark curls back in any semblance of order until after the next shampoo.

  Her eyes scanned the wonderful old city, unique in all the world. From the more rustic buildings that harkened back to its days of lumber mills and gold rushes, to the glistening steel and glass of the high tech skyscrapers, the iconic Space Needle and massive Ferris wheel, the Emerald City was rich in both colorful history and the promise of the future.

  Savannah tucked the moment away, to be taken out like a favorite piece of jewelry at a later time and touched and enjoyed at leisure. But now, she had business to attend to.

  “We’ve only got a few minutes,” she told the group, as John placed the “sail away” beverage of choice into her hand. A mug of hot, strong coffee.

  Not exactly her idea of a celebratory cocktail. But then, Tammy was pregnant, Gran a teetotaler, and the rest of them on duty. It was certainly the most sensible choice.

  John saw her momentary look of disappointment and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Apologies, love,” he whispered, indicating the rest of the group with a nod of his silver head. “Seattle. Coffee. ’Twas the best we could do under the circumstances.”

  “Gotcha.” She winked at him. “No problem.”

  Ryan handed a matching mug to Dirk. “Did you manage to score a manifest?”

  Savannah waited silently to see if Dirk would tell the truth. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he hadn’t. Manly man pride and all that.

  “Nope,” he admitted. “Savannah did.” He took a swig of the coffee, licked his upper lip, and explained. “I tried to squeeze one out of a purser and nearly got us all thrown off the ship. Apparently, they don’t just give those out like Snickers bars on Halloween night.”

  Richard turned to Savannah, quite impressed. “You got a purser to let go of a manifest?”

  “No,” she said. “Seems pursers have strong feelings about passenger privacy. We tried three of them.”

  “Then who gave you one?” Waycross asked as he removed his flannel shirt and draped it around Tammy’s shoulders, leaving him to shiver in only a thin Studebaker T-shirt.

  Savannah snickered. “Baggage handlers appear to be a bit less picky.”

  “If they’re bribed,” Dirk grumbled into his mug.

  “Whatever did you bribe him with?” Tammy asked.

  Savannah drew a deep sigh, much like the ones she had seen homicidal maniacs draw moments before confessing a capital crime. “I’d like to say I accomplished it with wit, wisdom, and feminine wiles. But do you remember that tin of macadamia chocolate chip cookies I brought for tonight’s First Night Aboard celebrations?”

  “No!” Dora was horrified. “You didn’t!”

  “Sorry. Had to.”

  Dora let out a soulful groan and sagged in her chair. “That’s awful! What are we going to do for dessert? There’s no telling how much they’ll charge us for dessert on a ship as fancy as this.” She turned to Richard. “We’ll just have to go without. That’s all there is to it. I knew I should have gone to Costco and stocked up on those little individually wrapped pastries.”

  Richard laughed and draped his arm over his wife’s shoulders. “Babe, you’re the only woman alive who’s afraid she’ll starve to death on a cruise ship.”

  “I’m more worried about gaining weight,” Tammy said, stroking her enormous belly.

  Savannah gulped. “I’m more afraid of you losing weight,” she said, “about seven or eight pounds. All at once.”

  “Me too,” John said, giving Tammy a concerned, paternal smile. “I can’t believe your doctor gave his blessing for you to cruise this late in your pregnancy.”

  Tammy smirked. “She didn’t exactly give her blessing.”

  “She sure didn’t,” Waycross added. “She told her to stay put. You can’t always count on these due dates being right. That’s what she said. But no! You can’t get this one here to listen to nobody, let alone do as she’s told.”

  Giving Savannah a wink, Tammy said, “I’ve been hanging around Savannah too long.”

  “No, no.” Savannah shook her head. “You aren’t blaming me for you traipsing off to the high seas with a baby that’s about to drop like an egg outta a loose goose and—”

  “Stop it,” Granny said, holding up a traffic cop hand. “That’s quite enough of this rigmarole. There’s a doctor and at least one nurse on board this ship. A whole clinic thing—”

  “Sick bay,” Ryan whispered.

  “Whatever you call it, that’s open day and night.” Granny took a breath, reached across the table, and patted Dora’s hand. “Plus we’ve got ourselves a retired registered nurse here with umpteen years on the maternity floor of the hospital, so there.”

  Savannah was moderately reassured by the confident nod and smile that Dora gave Tammy.

  “Besides,” Tammy added, “nature knows what she’s doing. Babies have been coming into the world for thousands of year
s, long before there were hospitals and maternity wards. When the time comes, my body will know what to do—here on this ship or at the birthing center back in San Carmelita.”

  Dirk leaned over and whispered in Savannah’s ear, “She talks all brave now. Let’s hear what she is saying when those labor pains hit.”

  “Shush. They don’t call them ‘labor pains’ anymore. Too many negative connotations. They’re ‘contractions’ now.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ve seen women having babies plenty of times. No matter what you call those ‘contractions,’ they hurt.”

  “I heard that, Dirk-o,” Tammy told him. “You keep spewing your old-coot negativity and I won’t let you in the delivery room.”

  Dirk gave her a horrified look. “I’ll take that as a solemn promise, if that’s okay with you.”

  Savannah glanced at her watch, then out at the horizon where the city skyline was receding from sight. She nudged Dirk in the ribs with her elbow. “It’s time for you and me to get back to work, big boy.”

  As they rose to their feet, Ryan and John stood as well.

  “Are you away to Ms. Van Cleef’s suite?” John asked.

  Savannah nodded. “Duty calls.”

  “Would you like some company?” Ryan offered. He nodded toward the rest of the group, who were engaged in lively conversation. “I think this gang can keep themselves entertained on their own.”

  Savannah noticed that Granny and Dora were involved in what appeared to be a deep, engrossing exchange. Though with a second, more discerning look, Savannah realized that Dora, as usual, was doing the talking and Granny the listening.

  Deep in her heart, Savannah blessed her grandmother.

  Gran had a mouth on her, no doubt. She was, after all, a Reid gal. But she had also lived long enough to accumulate a wealth of wisdom. Granny Reid understood the value of listening. She truly believed that she healed her fellow human beings by listening to their stories.

  That made her the perfect companion for Dora Jones.

  Savannah turned her attention back to Ryan. “Actually, Natasha asked that this first onboard briefing be with just Dirk and me. But we’ll certainly fill you in later.”

 

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