Every Body on Deck

by G. A. McKevett

  “It sure is. Look, he’s talking to her. I’d say he’s telling her what he’s doing sitting there. Why he’s watching the security checkpoint.”

  Savannah thought the same thing. Big, ugly, tough guy Frank Bellissimo and the sweet little lady from down in Dixie were having a most pleasant and quite animated conversation. Frank’s hands were waving around with wild abandon as he stated his case, and Granny was leaning toward him, her eyes intent upon his face. She was nodding vigorously at the end of each of his sentences, as though he had just said the most interesting thing she’d ever heard.

  Suddenly, Savannah felt someone poke her in the ribs.

  “Boo!” said a cheerful female voice in her right ear.

  Savannah turned to see Tammy and Waycross grinning at her and Dirk.

  “Whatcha doin’ hiding here behind these palm trees?” her brother asked. “Are we spying on someone?”

  Savannah nodded toward the piano and the love seat.

  Tammy caught her breath. “Good heavens! What is Granny doing talking to that awful man?”

  “She’s treating him like a nice human being, whether he is or not. She was sure that was the best plan for interrogating him. Since the only other plans that we could come up with involved bloodshed, severe bruising, and probably stitches, we decided to let her try her way first.”

  “Good idea,” Waycross said with a thoughtful nod. “Granny’s always been the very best at weaseling information out of people. Usually without them even knowing she’s doing it.”

  They all watched as Frank seemed to experience some sort of emotional breakdown. Leaning forward, he put his elbows on his knees and covered his eyes with his hands.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Savannah asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dirk replied. “If I didn’t know better I’d think he was crying.”

  “No way.”

  Granny reached over, placed her hand on Frank’s broad back, and began patting him like a baby who needed to burp.

  “Actually,” Tammy said, “he might be crying, considering what we found out.”

  “What you found out?” Savannah turned to Tammy. “What did you find out?”

  “He’s got woman problems,” Waycross said, shaking his head sadly.

  “He’s going through menopause, too?” Dirk asked.

  Savannah wanted to smack him. But that would have given away their position. Overt violence was seldom a good idea when surveilling a subject from behind potted palms.

  “No,” Tammy responded, tittering. “Of course not.”

  “His fiancée’s gone and ditched him,” Waycross told them. “She won’t even talk to him. Slept in a deck chair last night just to avoid him.”

  “How do you know that?” Savannah asked.

  “She told us all about it, not an hour ago.” Tammy looked extremely satisfied with herself. Savannah might have even found it mildly annoying, except that what she was saying was so informative.

  “How did you find out that he has a fiancée?” Dirk asked.

  “Social media.” Tammy gave him a smug grin. “You should try it sometime. Most people leave their information wide open. You can find out a lot about anybody in two minutes.”

  “Like that they have a pretty blond fiancée named Desiree Haddrill,” Waycross said. “Then you can look on the passenger manifest and—lookie there!—find out that she’s aboard. Sharing a stateroom with him, in fact.”

  Tammy nodded. “Except that she isn’t sharing it with him, because she’s mad at him.”

  “Do you happen to know why?” Savannah asked. “Was that on social media, too?”

  Tammy gave Waycross a funny look, and he blushed bright red. Savannah knew that scarlet-cheeked flush all too well. Waycross had done something naughty. Or Tammy had, and he knew about it.

  “No,” Tammy admitted reluctantly, “it wasn’t on the Internet. I had to get . . . um . . . creative to find out the nitty-gritty stuff.”

  Savannah was afraid to ask, but she had to. “Okay. What did you do?”

  “You don’t wanna know,” Waycross said, turning even redder. “I’m pretty sure that would make you an accomplice or something.”

  “What the hell did you do? Fess up,” Dirk demanded.

  Savannah gave a quick glance over toward Granny and Frank. But they hadn’t heard Dirk’s outburst. Now Gran had her arm completely wrapped across Frank’s shoulders, and she was leaning on him, practically cuddling him.

  “I stole her purse,” Savannah heard Tammy say.

  She whipped around and locked eyes with her best friend. “You didn’t!”

  Waycross nodded. “She did. We went looking for Desiree and found her there in the casino, playing one of those slot machines. No sooner did we see her than she walked over to a bar to get herself a drink, and she left her purse right there by the machine.”

  “That’s right,” Tammy said. “When you think about it, she was practically asking for it.”

  “She was not asking for anything,” Savannah told her. “She was an innocent victim and you’re a purse snatcher. Good Lord, Tammy. What’s wrong with you?”

  Dirk shook his head. “It’s women problems. I’m telling you—menopause, pregnancy, it’s all the same thing. Messes up the way a woman thinks.”

  Savannah fixed him with a baleful stare. “You know, an unsuspecting guy could get ‘messed up,’ saying stupid stuff like that around women who aren’t thinking straight.” She turned back to Tammy. “Give her back her purse, right now, before anybody realizes you’ve got it.”

  “I already did. What do you think I am, a purse snatcher?”

  Dirk threw up his hands and said to Savannah, “See? Messed up.”

  Savannah laid her hands on Tammy’s shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “I just want to make sure I’ve got this straight. You stole her purse, and then you gave it back to her?”

  Tammy grinned. “I did. I picked it up and dropped it into my tote. She went back to her slot machine and played for a little while. Then when she got up to go, she reached for her purse and it wasn’t there. I let her look for a while. Then once she got good and frustrated, I snuck the purse out of my tote, walked over, and asked her if that was what she was looking for. I said I’d found it on the floor. I know that was a fib, but—”

  “Well, hell,” Dirk said, “if you’ve taken up purse snatching for a hobby, what’s a little fib here and there?”

  “What possessed you to do such a thing?” Savannah asked.

  “I needed to bond with her. Really quick,” Tammy explained. “What better way than that, giving a woman back her purse that she thought she’d lost?”

  “I probably could’ve thought of one or two better ways,” Savannah said. “But what’s done is done. Did you find out anything else other than that she’s engaged to Frank and it’s not going well?”

  “She found out what the fight was all about,” Waycross said. “Turns out he wasn’t the least bit romantic when he proposed. He kinda asked her on the fly, all matter-of-fact like, when they were walking down the hallway to their room.”

  “That’s true,” Tammy said sadly. “No dropping down on one knee. No ring. No speech about love. Just ‘Whaddaya say we get hitched?’”

  Even Dirk groaned. “Oh, man. He screwed up big. Even I did the knee and the ring thing.”

  “Exactly,” Tammy said. “And everybody knows you’re the least romantic guy on the planet.”

  “Hey!”

  “Now, now,” Savannah interjected before the drama could escalate. “It looks like Granny and Frank are bringing it to a close. Heads up, everybody.”

  “I can see why,” Tammy said, pointing to a pretty blond woman who was just coming through the security checkpoint, shopping bags in hand. “There’s Desiree now.”

  To their astonishment Frank jumped to his feet, pulled Granny to hers, and gave her an enormous bear hug and an enthusiastic, if brief, kiss on the lips. Then he released Gran and rushed over to his fianc
ée.

  “Come on now, Desi,” Savannah heard Tammy whisper. “Take my advice. Be sweet the next time you see him and things will go better.”

  As suggested, Desiree gave him a friendly, if lukewarm, smile. He grabbed the packages out of her arms with one hand and gently stroked her cheek with the other.

  Granny left the love seat area and slowly made her way back toward the group behind the palm trees. When she joined them, she said, “He was just a bit misguided in the romance department. In need of a bit of Granny Reid’s advice for the lovelorn. Let’s see if he takes it now.”

  They all watched breathlessly as Frank deposited the packages on the love seat. Then he plucked a pink rose from a bouquet that was decorating a nearby table and handed it to his companion. She ducked her head and giggled sweetly.

  Taking her by the hand, he led her to the piano. He leaned over and made a request, and a moment later the musician was playing a lovely rendition of Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”

  Big, clunky Frank Bellissimo wrapped his arms around the woman he loved and began dancing her across the atrium floor, whirling her with surprising skill around the fountain and back to the piano, much to the delight of onlookers. By the end of the song, twenty or more people had stopped to watch the couple. Even Ryan and John, Dora and Richard, and the Moonlight Magnolia gang who had been hiding behind the palms had mingled with the audience.

  The moment the song ended, those watching clapped and cheered uproariously. Amid the applause, Frank dropped to one knee, reached into his pocket, and produced an engagement ring with a stone the size of a doorknob. He held it up to her and said in a loud voice, dripping with attitude and a strong Jersey accent, “Desiree Haddrill, I love you. I never loved a woman in my whole life the way I love you. If you’ll marry me, I’ll never do anything wrong again in my life. I swear it.”

  She snatched the ring from his hand, slipped it on her finger, and dissolved into a fit of ecstatic tears.

  Frank picked her up, his arms around her waist, kissed her, then swung her wildly in circles around and around the room, like she was a limp, understuffed doll. If anyone had been standing too close, her feet would have taken them out, knocked them down like bowling pins.

  But the audience gave the lovers a wide berth and all ended well.

  Granny gave a sniff and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ve seen chickens get their necks wrung with more grace than that. But at least his heart’s in the right place.”

  “What did you two talk about over there on the love seat?” Savannah asked.

  “He told me how bad his life is going. I told him that if he wants his life to go well he’s gotta do good stuff and lay off the leg-breakin’ junk. He swore he was turning over a new leaf, then and there.”

  Dirk looked doubtful. “Come on, Granny. Have you ever in your life seen a bad guy go good?”

  “No. I can’t say as I have,” she admitted. “But the day that I lose faith that it’s possible is the day that I give up on this world and everybody in it. I don’t intend to ever do that.”

  Chapter 22

  Once Frank and Desiree had left the atrium, Savannah looked at her watch and realized it was rapidly approaching dinnertime.

  She turned to her family and friends and said, “We should all go back to our rooms, freshen up a little, and then get ready for dinner.”

  “I feel bad, us takin’ a break,” Gran said, “since our best suspect just got cleared.”

  “Frank wasn’t our best,” Dirk chimed in. “Olive is. Don’t forget that Sergeant Bodin’s still got her locked up at the bank.”

  Savannah shook her head. “That just sounds too weird. You don’t think he’ll keep her overnight, do you? I think the ship sails tonight around nine o’clock. If she’s not aboard . . .”

  That was the moment when she realized they had a major issue. They all realized it at once.

  “What are we going to do?” Dora said. “How are you guys going to solve this case if you’ve sailed away on a ship?”

  Savannah turned to Dirk, a sick feeling growing in the pit of her belly. “We can’t,” she said, incredulous that she could even be thinking of abandoning ship, let alone saying it.

  “But we can’t stay here in Saaxwoo,” Tammy said. “Waycross and I walked from one end of it to the other and didn’t see a single hotel or boardinghouse. We’d have no place to sleep.”

  Savannah looked at Tammy with her swollen tummy, then turned to her brother, whose eyes were wide with concern. “Don’t worry, sugar,” she said. “We don’t all have to leave the ship, and for sure you don’t.”

  Ryan spoke up. “If you two are staying, so are we.”

  “Me too,” Granny said.

  “You’re all going ashore. Now!”

  Savannah spun around to see who it was behind her who had said such a thing, and found herself face to face with Chief Security Guard Poole. Behind him stood four of his guards, dressed in black uniforms, their arms crossed over their chests and stern looks on their faces.

  “What the hell?” Dirk said, taking a step toward Poole. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Exactly what I said,” Poole replied. “The captain has asked me to escort your entire party ashore.”

  Savannah fought to keep her temper under control. Whatever was wrong, she was pretty sure it wouldn’t improve the situation if she were to soundly box Poole’s ears or give him a bloody nose. “May I ask,” she said with a slightly sarcastic tone, “what we’ve done to deserve this great honor?”

  “You’re disturbing the peace and upsetting many of the passengers.”

  “What passengers have we disturbed?” Savannah asked. “We’ve hardly even had a chance to rub elbows with any of them, let alone ruffle anybody’s feathers.”

  Poole turned to Tammy and produced a pair of handcuffs. “You, Miss Hart, are under arrest.”

  In an instant, Savannah stepped between Poole and her friend. “Under arrest for what?” she asked, although she had a sinking feeling that she knew what he was going to say next.

  “Stealing another passenger’s purse.”

  Yes. That was it. Bingo.

  Holy cow, she thought. What now?

  Poole was moving around Savannah, closer to Tammy, and opening one of the cuffs.

  “No!” Dirk blocked Poole and laid his open hand on his chest. “You won’t be putting cuffs on her. It won’t happen. She’s no threat whatsoever to anyone. Whatever you think she’s done, we’ll discuss it. But without restraints.”

  The two men glared at each other, neither moving nor saying a word for what seemed like forever. Poole had an angry, determined look on his face, but Dirk’s expression was that of outraged indignation. He was also considerably taller than the chief, with a lot more bulk.

  Savannah would have bet on her husband in a boxing or wrestling match against Poole any day.

  Apparently, the ship’s chief security guard came to the same conclusion, because he reluctantly slipped the cuffs back into his pants pocket.

  He glanced beyond them to the security checkpoint, where they saw a familiar face passing through, boarding the ship.

  “You have ten minutes,” Poole told the group, “to prepare to go ashore. My guards will escort you to your staterooms to pack your things. Then they will bring you back here to the atrium, and you, Miss Hart, will be delivered into Sergeant Bodin’s custody.”

  Savannah watched the blood drain from her friend’s face. Tammy’s golden California tan quickly became a pasty gray.

  Savannah moved closer to Poole, and in a quiet but menacing tone, she said, “Tammy has done nothing wrong. If you speak to the woman whose purse was supposedly stolen, you’ll see that, as a matter of fact, she has her purse. She had misplaced it, was looking for it, and thanks to Tammy, it was restored to her.”

  “We know exactly what happened, Miss Reid. The entire incident was recorded with the casino CCTV.”

  “If you watched the enti
re ‘incident,’ as you call it, then you know that no harm has been done here today on your ship. As anyone with two eyes can see, this young woman is very much in a family way. She doesn’t need to be distressed by any foolishness on your part. If anything happens to her, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

  “That’s right,” said Granny as she moved to stand beside Savannah. “You’re playing with fire here, boy. I’m in my eighties. I’ve got one foot in the grave and the other on a stick of hot butter. I could kick off at any minute. This girl that you’re accusing is very dear to me, a precious part of my family. If I was to see something bad happen to her, I’m sure it would push me right over the edge. What are all those cruising fans gonna think of you and your ship when they read that story in the pages of Adventurous Cruising or Everybody on Deck magazines?”

  John moved to the fore, as well. It was beginning to get crowded in Chief Security Guard Poole’s personal space. “What she says is true, lad,” he told Poole. “Don’t be a clot. Use your bonce. You can’t kick an expectant mother and an octogenarian off a ship.”

  “Watch me.” Poole snapped his fingers and his security team instantly divided themselves among the group. One guard per cabin.

  Savannah shot Dirk a helpless look, which he returned.

  Poole’s guards were efficient. Three seconds later, they were all on their way out of the atrium, marching toward their rooms, with a guy with a black uniform and an even darker disposition following close behind.

  “So much for our free, dream trip to Alaska,” Savannah grumbled when they reached their stateroom.

  “We’ll see plenty of Alaska,” Dirk replied. “Up close and personal. It’s the loss of that all-night buffet that I’ll be mourning.”

  * * *

  The entire Moonlight gang, plus Dora, Richard, and Patricia Chumley, stood on the pier amid the mountain of their luggage and souvenir shopping bags.

  They were all upset, but Patricia even more than the others. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said for the third time in the past five minutes. “I was shopping all day. Then I went back to my room and had a shower and a nap. Why would I get kicked off the ship for that?”