by Cindy Sample
Claire had reached a bottleneck in center stage. The dancers surrounded her in a wide circle, their fingers snapping to the beat of the music. It looked like the performers were clueless as to what was going on. Maybe they thought the choreographer was improvising by including audience members in the routine. Anything goes on the last night of the cruise.
My dancer finally put me down as the Deejay sang out “How low can you go?” The cast swiveled their hips lower and lower until eventually Claire and I were the only ones left standing. Hands on hips, we glared at one another.
High noon on the high seas.
I finally spied Stan among the dancers and called out to him.
“Stan, stop her.” I pointed to Claire. Stan looked startled but he grabbed her with one arm around her waist while she attempted to pull away. Claire escaped his grasp and smacked him with her purse. Stan tumbled to the floor but managed to take Claire down with him. He started to rise, but the tall, fifty-plus woman recovered faster than my friend. She reached into her clutch and pulled out a gleaming chopstick.
Before you could say Taekwondo, Claire’s well-muscled arm wrapped around Stan’s throat, the sharp pointed end of the silver chopstick less than an inch from piercing the thin skin of his scrawny neck. I was close enough to see his Adam’s apple bobble in fear.
When Danny and two members of his gang attempted to close in on Claire, she brought the chopstick even closer to Stan’s carotid artery.
Claire began inching backstage, her captive held tight in her grip. Stan’s eyes bulged out as he mouthed the words “Help me.”
A familiar baritone called out from the audience. “Claire. Stop.” I looked to my right to see Tom standing in the middle of the center aisle, his eyes locked on Claire. His voice rang out. “You don’t want to hurt anyone else. Put your weapon down.”
I shivered. Claire’s eyes were moving frantically from one end of the stage to the other. She looked completely deranged and prepared to do anything at this point. Even if it made no sense in the long run. As far as I could tell, there was nowhere for her to escape.
“I want a helicopter to take us away. You can arrange that. I’ve seen it on TV.”
I shook my head, remembering when Claire had described herself as a crime show aficionado. How could someone so nuts remain cool and composed for so long? And where was Tom going to get a helicopter?
I could sense the frustration in Tom’s voice as he tried to calm her down. He’d been involved in hostage situations before. I shivered again, vividly remembering one of those situations when I had been the chosen hostage of a crazed killer. That situation had led to a frigid snowmobile chase and me being thrown into Lake Tahoe in the dead of the winter.
I couldn’t let my friend Stan suffer. But what could I do?
“Hey, toots,” Gran’s hoarse voice called out. I looked down and saw my tiny grandmother standing directly below the stage. She reached into her gigantic tote and pulled out the rubber chicken she’d won the other night.
“Heads up,” she shouted as she threw the chicken at me. I could hear gasps and muttering from the dance crew and the audience as the sickly yellow item flew through the air, landing safely in my waiting hands. Even Claire seemed distracted by the unusual aerial activity.
Ever grateful for all of those years of softball practice, I flung the fowl directly at the chopstick.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
Out! And game over. My lob completely missed the skinny chopstick I was aiming for. Instead, the plummeting poultry smacked Claire at the bridge of her elegant nose. She dropped her weapon and put both hands on her damaged proboscis.
Tom managed a very impressive leap onto the stage and grabbed hold of Claire. With help from the actress playing the role of Frenchy, the pink-wigged Beauty School Dropout, he secured Claire’s hands with a pair of hair ties then marched her up the aisle. The audience applauded with abandon. They would certainly have a story to share with their friends when they returned home.
The cast also clapped, several of them patting me on my back. One male dancer attempted to throw me up in the air in celebration, but we compromised with a hug. Zac and Stan joined me, their arms around each other.
“I will love you forever,” Zac said as he kissed me on both cheeks.
Then it was Stan’s turn. “You are my hero,” he said. I gave him a big hug, grateful he was now safe. Mother, Gran and Mabel joined us on the stage.
“You sure gave her the bird.” Mabel slapped me on my back, almost knocking me into my grandmother.
“Thanks for the assist, Gran.”
She looked around the stage. “Anytime, kiddo. Now where’s my chicken? You never know when you need to bop someone.”
Stan went off to recover Gran’s bird, while my mother proceeded to lecture me. “Laurel, you need to stop putting yourself in these dangerous situations.”
I put my hands up to stop her tirade. “I was never in danger. I just didn’t want Claire to hurt anyone else. In her crazed state, anything could have happened.”
“Well,” she acquiesced, “next time, could you wait until the second half of the show is over. I was looking forward to the finale.”
Someone tapped me on the back. Still pent up from the excitement, I swiveled around, almost punching Sierra in the face.
“Nice move, cuz,” she said. “You always did have a good arm. Even as a toddler. Remember that time you whacked me with your Cabbage Patch doll?”
“I do remember that stunt. It landed me in the corner for an hour. I expect Claire’s punishment will be far more severe.”
I looked out into the almost empty theater. The patrons had dispersed to the various bars and other late night activities. One man remained seated in the front row, tears openly running down his face.
I left my family to rehash everything, walked down the steps and sat next to Rick.
He gazed at me, his eyes filled with pain. His face had aged a decade in the past few minutes.
“Did you have any idea what Claire had done?” I asked him.
He shook his head, the tears still rolling down his gaunt cheeks. “No. But this is all my fault.”
Yeah, pretty much.
“What do you think happened?” I figured Tom would eventually get the story from Claire, but it would be interesting to get Rick’s perspective.
He sighed. “I’m an idiot.” I agreed but urged him to elaborate. “Nicole is, I mean, was my client. I was going through a mid-life crisis, and somehow we ended up having an affair. I’d arranged this gig for her. Then I decided to upgrade her suite and spend the week with her. I wanted to find out if it was merely a fling, or if I was really in love with her.”
“Claire told me she found the tickets and assumed it was a surprise for her.”
“Yep. I talked my way out of it by telling her it was an anniversary present. So then I booked another cabin for us. I couldn’t believe it when we ended up on the same deck, only a few doors away from Nicole’s stateroom.”
“So what went on that first night? How did Claire find out about your affair?”
“You got me. I have to confess something far worse.” He covered his eyes for a minute before he continued. “I arranged to meet Nicole when the show was over. I ordered a bottle of champagne for Claire and me to celebrate our anniversary. I filled two glasses then dumped some ground up Ambien into my wife’s glass. I knew it wouldn’t hurt her. Claire would just have a good night’s rest. Or that’s what I told myself.”
“I remember Claire mentioning she was hungover that second day.”
He scrunched his face. “Yeah, that’s the weird thing. I ended up crashing on the bed and never made it to Nicole’s cabin. I figured I’d mixed the glasses up and drank the wrong one. I felt so guilty about the whole thing––I mean who drugs their wife so they can sleep with their mistress? So I decided to end my affair with Nicole.”
“You tried to contact her?”
“I emailed her from Grand Turk but never he
ard back so I figured she was mad at me. I kept worrying that the two women would bump into each other. Then the next day I got an email from Nicole’s phone that said she was breaking it off and heading back home.”
“Were you relieved?”
“You can believe it. I spent the rest of the week trying to make it the best week of our marriage. I thought I’d succeeded, but…” his voice trailed off.
Sometimes it’s just too late.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Much later that evening, I nestled against Tom as he shared what he’d learned from Claire. He confirmed that Claire killed Nicole. She’d suspected Rick of having an affair for a long time. Once she figured out his cell phone password, she began reading his texts. When she discovered he planned to meet Nicole that first evening of the cruise, she became livid.
Full aware of her husband’s plans, she remained vigilant. She caught him drugging her glass of champagne and managed to distract him and switch glasses. Once he fell asleep, she plotted how to best save her marriage.
Claire’s first thought was to talk to Nicole, to plead with her to leave Rick alone. She knew they were supposed to meet at midnight, so Claire left her stateroom a few minutes before twelve. She seized one of the large room service trays someone had set in the hallway for a server to pick up. Then she knocked on Nicole’s door. When it opened, Claire walked in and smashed the metal tray into Nicole’s face, knocking her out and cutting her in the forehead. That was the cause of the blood we found on the bedspread.
At that point, she supposedly lost it. Nicole was petite, almost a foot shorter than Claire. She rolled Nicole onto the bedspread and dragged her across the stateroom. Claire knew there weren’t any cameras on the balcony. She hoped if she pushed Nicole overboard, that her disappearance would remain unnoticed.
Forever.
“I assume Sanjay discovered what happened,” I said to Tom, wondering about the strangeness of our bedtime conversation. Oh, well. The family that detects together, stays together.
Tom squeezed me tighter. “Yeah, that was actually our fault. Remember, you insisted on him going back through the video tapes to look for your missing person. We’ll never know for sure, but according to Claire, he discovered something on the tapes that led him to her.”
“That was probably all he needed,” I said. “Since Sanjay’s hobby was blackmail, he probably decided to up the ante this time around.”
Tom nodded. “Supposedly when he learned Rick worked for a well-known entertainment management company, he figured Claire could come up with some big bucks. Enough to pay his gambling losses.”
“Was she unwilling to pay?” I asked.
“From what I gather, this was another situation where she reacted unexpectedly. Sanjay made his demands and she came unglued. She noticed the chopstick, which I assume belonged to Sierra, lying on the ground. She plucked it off the floor and rammed it into Sanjay’s neck. Then he fell over and Claire shoved it into his ear. She claims he just looked far too pleased with himself, and she couldn’t bear it.”
“Methinks Claire has some anger management issues.”
“She’ll have a lot of time in isolation to work on that.”
“Has Rick spoken with Claire?” I asked. “I know he feels dreadful about everything.”
“He should. It all began with his infidelity. The last I heard he was arranging for a top defense attorney to take on his wife’s case.”
“She might plead insanity. She certainly behaved like she was crazy. There are easier ways to get even with your spouse. Taking him to the cleaners with a divorce, for instance.”
“You would never do that to me, would you?” Tom murmured, in between doing wonderful things to my ear lobe.
I cuddled closer to him. “As long as you keep that up, I’m all yours, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Disembarking is never quite as much fun as boarding a cruise ship. For one thing, you have to place your suitcases outside your cabin door by midnight. And you have to remember not to pack anything you might need in there. Like your toothbrush.
The captain had requested that Tom stay behind to oversee Claire’s transfer to local authorities. None of them were quite certain under whose jurisdiction the murders should be handled since one victim was a U.S. citizen and the other, an Indian national. Not to mention the murders occurred in international waters. Claire would remain in custody while the multiple agencies figured it out.
My family agreed to meet for a light breakfast while we waited for our assigned color-coded disembarkation groups to be called. I arrived at the Lido Café a little after seven, groggy but hungry.
A few passengers nodded at me. Others commended me on my performance the previous evening. They must have thought I was one of the actors. If they only knew.
I shared everything I’d learned from Tom with my family, Stan and Zac. Since Zac still had two weeks left on his contract, Stan would spend another week with him before returning home.
“How are you feeling?” Mother asked, in full maternal mode. Usually I’d be annoyed by her question, but sometimes a girl, even a forty-year-old married girl, can use a little tea and sympathy from her mom.
“I’m fine. Just glad we didn’t lose another member of the Grease cast.”
Stan blew me a grateful kiss from across the table. “And thanks, Ginny,” he said to Gran.
“I figured if I couldn’t pack a pistol in my purse, I’d pack that piece of poultry,” Gran said. She scowled at me. “Your hubby took it away, Laurel. Claimed it was evidence.”
Mother choked and I giggled. It was more likely Tom kept the bird in order to keep everyone else safe. From Gran.
“Travelin’ with your family has been a real hoot,” Mabel said to Gran. “You got any other trips coming up?”
A chorus of “no” sounded from all sides of the table. My stepfather added his deep basso encore as he joined us.
“Is Tom almost done?” I asked him.
“Close. He’s waiting for someone to assume responsibility for the prisoner.”
“What a sad way to end our vacation,” I said to no one in particular. “I feel terrible about Claire. If I hadn’t been hungover that first night…”
“Then no one would ever know what happened to poor Nicole,” Stan reminded me. “Justice must be served.”
“You sound like an episode of Law and Order,” I snapped, still feeling remorseful.
“You and your husband make a great team,” Zac said. “Reminded me of those old Thin Man movies from the thirties. With William Powell and Myrna Loy.” Zac eyed me. “You look a little like her with that curly reddish-brown hair and your lovely blue eyes.”
Zac needed new contacts. I could fit two Myrna Loy’s into one of my dresses, but since I loved her work, I would gratefully accept his compliment. Tom and I did make a good team. And for a change, we weren’t on opposing sides.
A familiar face stopped at our table. “Loved the finale, Laurel,” said Jimmy Bond. “That rubber chicken was an unexpected plot twist.”
“Couldn’t have done it without Gran’s arsenal of assorted weaponry,” I said. She beamed at me then asked Jimmy what his plans were for the rest of the day. He pulled up a chair and joined our crowded table.
“I booked the optional Everglades tour for this afternoon,” he said. “My plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow.”
“Where’s your fan club?” Gran asked.
“Probably pestering the captain about her missing watch and other items,” Jimmy replied, his forehead creasing in a deep frown. “I still can’t believe I couldn’t suss out the thief.”
“So you were investigating the jewel thefts,” I said accusingly.
He nodded, his eyes a troubled blue-gray. “I occasionally consult for Lloyds. I made a valiant attempt, but I’ve been most unsuccessful. I shall return to Lloyd’s empty-handed.”
Gran reached out and clasped his hand in hers. “Not completely empty-handed. You’ve made new
friends. And you’re welcome to visit us anytime you’re in California.”
Jimmy lifted her liver-spotted hand to his lips before he set it back down. “It’s a date, luv.”
Gran blushed and said nothing. Now that was a first.
Sierra stopped at our table. She was dressed to the nautical nines in her brass-buttoned, perfectly-pressed uniform. The circles under her eyes almost matched her dark blue skirt. But her smile was wide as she greeted us.
“I guess you’ll never forget this cruise,” she said. “Can you believe that not one but two murders occurred on board?”
Stan pointed his finger at me. “All in a day’s work for Laurel and her family. Next time I travel with you, I’m packing my own weapon.” He turned to my grandmother. “Got any more of those chickens in stock?”
We all laughed, although our laughter was tinged with melancholy. Death was no laughing matter.
“Do you have time to join us?” I asked Sierra.
She shook her head, her hair curling nicely on her shoulders. Sierra had already informed me that she’d sworn off chopstick accessories for the rest of her life.
“Nope. I need to wave goodbye to the passengers then welcome some new entertainers on board and get them situated in their staterooms. We normally have only a couple hours between the current passengers leaving the ship and the next group boarding.”
“Are you still worried they might terminate your employment over those missing jewels?” Mother asked Sierra.
“I don’t think so, but you never know. The Captain has been occupied with more tragic matters lately. The assistant security officer showed me the list of items, and it wasn’t as extensive as they first thought. Primarily those items that Mrs. Peabody lost, a few wallets and items that disappeared when passengers frequented the spa, plus a couple of purses that were emptied and returned.”
“That’s good news,” I said.
“Good news save for Mrs. Peabody,” Jimmy chimed in. “Or, rather, my employer. Perhaps it’s time for me to retire once again.”