by Cindy Sample
All the deck buttons were lit up, and I impatiently waited until the door swooshed open to my floor. I sidestepped the cane-whacking senior and gracefully exited the elevator before running down the corridor to my stateroom.
From a distance, the door to our room appeared to be open. Maybe Marcel was cleaning it, although he normally finished earlier in the day. That gave us time to mess it all up getting ready for the evening meal so he could clean it once again while we dined.
I slowed down. On this cruise you couldn’t be too careful.
As I drew closer, I recognized familiar voices emanating from the stateroom. I crossed the threshold to be greeted by Mabel, my family and my husband.
“Where the hell have you been?” Tom asked, the expression on his face a combination of relief and really pissed off.
“We’ve been so worried about you,” Mother said, enfolding me in her arms.
“I was at the spa,” I replied, wondering what the big deal was. Then it dawned on me that once Stan left with Zac, no one actually knew where I’d been the last few hours. “I only booked a one-hour facial, but then Mrs. Peabody’s watch disappeared from her robe pocket. She accused my esthetician of stealing it, and the next thing I knew, I was deep into another investigation.”
I mouthed a sorry to Tom who looked torn between berating me and hugging me.
Wary of my head injury, he went with a gentle hug and light kiss.
“I guess you imagined the worst,” I said with a chuckle.
“Only because that’s your usual M.O.,” replied Bradford.
“That Peabody woman is a thorn in everyone’s rear end,” grumbled Gran.
“She was really upset. I guess her watch was extremely valuable. A Pitty Pat or something like that.”
“Oh, my,” said Mother. “A Patek Philippe? Those are so expensive. I can see why she’d be distraught. Did she ask you to help?”
“She did. Then I ran into Lucille, you know that nice woman from Atlanta, and told her about the supposed theft.” I laughed. “She offered to be my sidekick.”
“Hey, what about us?” Mabel said. “I thought your grandmother and I were your sidekicks.”
Gran elbowed Mabel. “No, we’re the CEO and CDO of TWO GALS DETECTIVE AGENCY.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Bradford said. “CDO?”
“Chief detecting officer,” Gran said proudly. She tapped an arthritic finger against her chin. “You know, maybe this Lucille person could open up a branch for us in Atlanta. It would be nice to have an operative in the south. We could start franchisin’ our offices.”
“You mean TWO GALS?” asked Mabel.
“We might need a better name,” Gran said. “If we’re going global.”
Bradford butted in. “Like the crazy old ladies agency?”
Gran whacked my stepfather on his thigh with her jumbo patent leather purse. “Behave yourself, sonny. Or I’ll take you out of my will.”
“I feel like I’m watching an old Abbott and Costello routine,” Tom murmured in my ear.
Yep. Business as usual.
“I appreciate everyone’s concern, but Tom and I have to get ready for tonight.”
“I almost forgot. Formal night.” Mother tucked her arm under Bradford’s elbow. “Come along, dear. It’s time for you to show off your new tux.”
Tuxes come in Grizzly Bear sizes?
The four of them left our stateroom leaving Tom and me alone. I flopped on the bed and Tom joined me.
“Is it just me,” he said as he traced a finger from my neck down to my cleavage. “Or is this one strange honeymoon?”
I gulped at the touch of his finger. “When we exchanged wedding vows we promised to love and cherish one another. I don’t think living a normal life was included in our vows.”
“I guess this is the new normal,” he said. “For us.”
“I hope the new normal doesn’t equate to no sex.”
He gave me that cockeyed half grin I love so much. “Never.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Wandering through half the dining room in search of my family let us look at how the other passengers interpreted “formal.” We walked past tables where the women were covered head to toe in beads, sequins and occasionally, feathers. While a few men wore tuxes, the majority were dressed like Tom in a dark business suit. He claimed his cummerbund had vanished, but I had a feeling it was misplaced in one of the bureau drawers.
Tonight I wore a short red cocktail dress I’d borrowed from Liz. With six months of pregnancy left, she wouldn’t be needing it any time soon. I rarely wore red and felt very Mata Hari-ish.
The waiter pulled out my chair. My red silk-clad derriere was still a few inches from landing when he shoved the chair forward. I dropped into the seat with a thud.
“We’ve been wondering where you two were,” Gran said. “Out detecting?”
If my grandmother referred to Tom’s expert detection of my erogenous zones, she was a hundred percent right.
My cheeks colored to the same shade as my dress. Tom rescued me by placing the wine list in my hand.
While my eyes scrutinized the lengthy wine menu, my ears tuned in to the conversation at our table.
“So you don’t think his girlfriend stabbed him?” Mother asked Tom.
“Are you talking about Sanjay?” With the conversation in the dining room set at maximum volume, I raised my voice so they could hear my question.
Mother placed a finger over her lips. “Ssh. Robert and Tom met with her this afternoon.”
I turned to my husband. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“It’s difficult to keep you apprised of my investigation when I don’t know where the heck you are,” Tom responded.
Point taken.
I nestled against my husband’s arm while he discussed his interview with Mizuki.
“She seemed quite distressed about Sanjay’s death. Since the Chopsticks restaurant is located by the cabana area, the staff found out about the murder fairly quickly, although we asked them to keep it to themselves.”
“Did she admit to an affair with him?”
“Eventually. High-ranking officers are not supposed to dally with the rest of the crew, but in reality, it’s not that uncommon. Especially when you’re basically confined to the ship for an eight-month stretch. I guess he broke up with her that very evening.”
“So how did the two of them first hook up?” Gran asked, as intent as an investigative reporter about to get a front-page story.
Mother rolled her eyes, but she still leaned in to hear Tom’s response.
“This is a murder investigation, not Inside Edition,” I replied since I was far more interested in why Sanjay dumped Mizuki than how they got together.
“Hell hath no fury…” Mother began with Gran finishing her version of the famous quote. “Like a woman royally ticked off.” Gran waved her steak knife over her head. “So you think she stabbed him with that silver chopstick?”
Tom shrugged. “Mizuki is used to carrying trays loaded down with dinner entrees so she’s strong enough. It was difficult to get a read on her. She’s very self-contained.”
“You should have Laurel give it a try.” Gran pointed her sharp knife at me. “She’s good at worming stuff out of folks.”
Thanks, Gran. I could now add “excellent worming skills” to my resume.
“Mizuki contributed one helpful possibility,” Tom added. “Whether it proves useful to the investigation or not is something else. According to her, Sanjay was blackmailing two members of the crew.”
“Whoa, who knew?” I said.
“That’s what we need to find out. Mizuki only knew that one of the blackmail victims was a female bartender.”
“Which one?” I asked.
“She didn’t know, but fortunately, it’s a shorter list than the male bartenders. We have our work cut out for us.”
“What’s next?” I asked the two men. “Do you get to enjoy the rest of your vacation? We
dock in Sint Maarten tomorrow. Or should I say St. Martin?”
“Yeah, what’s the deal with that?” asked Mabel. “Two countries on the same island. How did that come about?”
“That’s an interesting story,” Mother replied. “Supposedly the French and the Dutch, who both occupied the island, decided to hold a contest. The Dutch men started walking west while the French went the opposite direction. They decided where they eventually met up would be the dividing line across the island. The Dutch fellows filled up with gin then stopped along the way to sleep. You know that old saying,” Mother said with a wicked grin. “If you booze, then snooze, you lose. The French ended up with a larger share of the island.”
“Great story,” Bradford said, “whether it’s true or not.”
“I hear there’s a famous beach on the French side,” Gran said, “where all the naturalists go.”
“Mother, you wouldn’t dare,” said my own mother to Gran.
“Just watch me,” Gran replied with a wink to me. “It’s supposed to be mighty popular with the senior set. Wanna come along with us, Laurel?”
Eew. “No, thank you,” I said, trying to erase the vision of Gran frolicking with a bunch of nude octogenarians.
I called our waiter over. I would need a stiff drink or two to eliminate that picture from my mind.
We finished dinner in stages. Mother and Bradford wanted to catch the comedian’s late show. Gran and Mabel decided to cruise the lounges. I had no idea what or who they were cruising for and didn’t intend to find out.
Tom and I decided to skip the big show and catch an act in one of the smaller more intimate lounges. We settled on the Queen’s Lounge where a jazz band provided a less hectic atmosphere. Perfect for cuddling and conversing.
Tom ordered a glass of merlot, and I went with the drink of the day, a Caribbean Sunrise. We snuggled together, Tom’s left arm resting on my shoulder, as we sipped our drinks and listened to the music. Life was perfect.
Or so I thought.
Tom shifted in his seat. He placed his glass on the table in front of us and removed his arm. “We need to discuss something,” he said to me.
My hand froze in mid-air. I couldn’t move or speak. Tom lifted my glass from my hand and set it down. Then he clasped my palm in his. “Now, don’t freak out.”
I, of course, immediately freaked out. I removed my hand from his, picked up my drink and downed half of it.
“My opening line needs work,” Tom said.
“Why don’t we skip the opening and get to the point.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I want to stay with Homeland Security.”
I sat there, dumbfounded. “What? Why? And why now?”
“You wouldn’t think the combination of a murder and my honeymoon would make me contemplate a career change, but a couple of things have led to this decision.”
“I’m listening.”
“First, despite the fact we’re dealing with a gruesome murder, Bradford and I have enjoyed working together, trying to follow the limited trail of clues the killer left behind.”
I nodded. “I can see that. You’re a fantastic detective.”
“On top of that, I spoke to my boss at Homeland Security. Once we return home, I’m off on a task force with another agency that will take me to Eastern Europe. And he didn’t know for how long.”
I’ve read descriptions of a person’s face falling upon receiving bad news. Mine just plummeted into my cocktail.
“But, but, what about us? And Kristy?” Our families had been officially merged for only one chaotic week before we left on our honeymoon. I loved Tom’s daughter, but how would she feel about her father disappearing for what could conceivably be months at a time.
“That’s why I’m considering giving notice. As they say, life is too short. Something I’ve learned during my career and as you know, personally experienced.” As a widower, Tom knew all about loss. As did I.
He reached for my hand again. “Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want my career to keep us apart.”
I bent over and kissed him. “I couldn’t agree more. So what’s your next step?”
“My next step is finishing what we started before dinner.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Before Tom and I could return to our stateroom to “enjoy” one another’s company, we were joined by Sierra, Stan and Zac.
“I’m so glad we found you,” said Stan, squeezing in beside me.
Tom and I exchanged glances. Lucky us.
Zac and Sierra dropped into the two chairs across from us. While the two of them shared a “gloomy Gus” countenance, Stan beamed at us.
“What’s going on?” I asked the trio.
“We’ve been rehearsing the new Danny for the final show,” Zac said.
“So the understudy is playing the part?” I asked. Zac and Sierra nodded glumly.
“And guess who is now starring on stage?” Stan burst out.
To Stan’s disappointment, we turned blank faces to him.
“Me,” he trilled, pointing both thumbs at his chest. Just in case we missed his point.
My mouth gaped open while Tom cleared his throat.
“One of the male dancers, Seth, is the Danny understudy. Zac was short one dancer so I’m filling in.” Stan’s smile was almost as wide as the table.
Tom cleared his throat again. “Well, this calls for a celebration. How about a round of drinks?”
Zac and Sierra looked like they would prefer a pitcher of drinks––one for each of them. The server came over and we placed our order.
“That’s so exciting,” I said to Stan. “How can you learn your part so quickly?”
“Piece of cake, sweetie,” he said. “You know I’m a natural.”
Zac gulped and smiled at me. Or was that a grimace? Hard to tell.
“How is the original Danny doing?” I asked.
“Not well,” Sierra replied, as she thanked the server for her cocktail. “He lost two front teeth, and his face looks like he had a run-in with both Batman and Superman.”
“It’s his own fault,” Zac said. “Screwing both women. What was he thinking?”
He wasn’t, obviously.
“Do you think the production will be ready in time?” I asked Zac.
“I sure hope so. First we lose our female lead singer and now the male lead. I don’t think I can take much more of this, but as long as there’s no more drama on the stage other than the show itself, we should be good to go.” He threw a look at Stan. “Provided our new chorus member learns all of his moves.”
“No problemo,” Stan said.
“I hope there will be no more problemos on this cruise,” Sierra said. “I can’t handle much more.”
“Do you get any time off to visit the island tomorrow?” I asked her.
“Our cuisine du jour tour guide called in sick, so I got volunteered to lead the gastronomy tour on the island.”
“Astronomy tour?” asked Tom.
“Gastronomy,” she replied, patting her flat stomach. “Eats all over the island. St. Martin is considered the culinary capital of the West Indies.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “Not that there is any shortage of food on the ship, but it would be fun to sample some French cuisine. Tom, what do you think?”
“I am as anxious as you are to get off the ship. I’ll check with the captain first thing in the morning to make sure he doesn’t need me.”
“That sounds like so much fun,” Stan said. “Sign me up.”
“Not so fast,” Zac replied. “We’re rehearsing tomorrow, remember? You are officially part of the cast.”
“Shoot.”
I leaned closer to Stan. “I’ll bring back some snacks for you. How do you feel about leftover snails?”
The expression on his face gave me my answer.
Tom rose early the next morning in an attempt to finish reviewing the footage before the around-the-island eating tour. Being a simple meat and potatoe
s kind of guy, Bradford declined the island foray saying he preferred watching boring video to dining on nouvelle cuisine.
Mother joined Tom and me for the tour. Gran and Mabel also signed up for the trip, which surprised me since my grandmother is more of a Campbell’s soup casserole kind of chef. Maybe she wanted to spend more time with the family and with Sierra.
Or more time with that dapper Jimmy Bond, who showed up as we were boarding the tour bus. We walked down the aisle in search of available seats. Gran shoved Mabel in the empty seat next to Mother leaving a pair of seats for herself and Jimmy. Tom and I scooched in behind them.
Jimmy turned around to greet us. “Good to see you again, Laurel. You seem to have recovered quite nicely from your attack yesterday.”
“Just a couple of scabs on my hard head,” I replied. “What have you been up to lately? Anything exciting?”
“He’s been trying to avoid that Peabody woman,” Gran butted in. “She clings to Jimmy like nylons on a hot summer day.”
Jimmy gave us a gentle smile. “Evelyn seems to think I’m her own personal bodyguard and escort.”
“Not to mention ‘boy toy’,” added Gran.
“Why, thank you, my dear,” Jimmy said to Gran. “At my age, I take that as a compliment.”
“Does Mrs. Peabody think she’s in danger?” asked my ever vigilant husband.
“The woman has encountered a string of bad luck as far as her jewelry is concerned,” Jimmy admitted. “So she’s concerned about her own safety as well as her diamonds.”
“She shoulda’ left her gee gaws at home,” Mabel interrupted him. “Instead of lording it over everyone.”
“Oh, crapola,” said Gran staring ahead. Evelyn Peabody lumbered onto the bus followed by her sister. The abrasive woman abruptly stopped in the middle of the narrow aisle. Her sister’s curly white head clunked into her broad back.
“Jimmy, where are you?” she bellowed.
“Bloody hell,” Jimmy muttered under his breath as he ducked down in his seat.
With the intensity of a missile, Evelyn’s gaze zoomed in on Jimmy and Gran. She waddled down the aisle to greet him.