by Sonia Parin
One more turn around the ship and she might feel human again. Smiling, she thought about Bronson. She might end up joining him at the gym. Earlier, she’d seen him from a distance. He’d been dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and most likely on his way to meet his torturer. They’d waved and made a few hand gestures to suggest a meeting later on.
Absently, she gazed at the passengers lounging around. They didn’t appear to have a care in the world. Eve couldn’t see any reason why she couldn’t settle into an easy rhythm. She’d already put enough thought into it to turn her efforts into a working vacation. How hard could it be to forget about everything that kept her busy most days?
Including murder, she thought.
She strode through a food court, averting her gaze from the tantalizing feasts, and instead eyed the lush chairs strategically placed to take in the best views, albeit too close to food. Before she could be tempted into taking another break, she pushed herself to keep walking.
With so many people making the best of the pleasant sunny weather outdoors, she had the corridors to herself. And the shops. She stepped inside one and was immediately accosted by a sales assistant.
“I’m only browsing.”
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
Eve responded to the salesgirl’s bubbly tone with a smile. While she’d never been much of a shopper, she wouldn’t mind taking advantage of the opportunity. However, giving her stomach a discreet pat, she decided it could wait a couple of days. No point in buying something that would fit today and... sag tomorrow...
“No, nothing in particular.” And just as well. She caught sight of a prize tag. Clearly, the boutique catered to people who were either gullible or so affluent they didn’t care about cost. “Very pretty,” she said as she ran her fingers along the sleeve of a blouse. “Is this the quiet part of the day?”
“It’s usually like this during the first couple of days. Passengers are eager to kick back and relax. Once they get bored of that, they hit the shops.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Eve thought she saw a pineapple... attached to a head. Instinctively and without much justification, she ducked.
“Are you all right?”
“Knee-jerk reaction.” To what? Seeing a Carmen Miranda impersonator? “I thought I saw someone I... well, I didn’t want to be seen shopping,” she prevaricated.
“My sister does that all the time when we go shopping. She’s afraid her husband will catch her in the act.” The salesgirl shrugged. “We deal with our issues in our own way. I eat chocolate, she shops.”
Eve looked over her shoulder.
“She’s just gone up the stairs.” The salesgirl gave her a knowing smile.
Eve couldn’t hold back her sigh of relief. That pineapple had looked familiar. And dangerous. Her senses must have picked up some sort of danger signal. Maybe it had been the Carmen Miranda who’d shoved her out of the way on the first day...
Eve drew out a pair of shorts and held them up against her. They looked to be about her size, but the way she felt at the moment, she didn’t dare try something that didn’t come with an elastic band. “Sorry, I had a sort of run in with her.”
“If you want to avoid her, she usually comes into the shop early in the morning.”
“That’s good to know.”
“I actually don’t blame you. She has an imposing personality. I’ve noticed myself tensing up a bit when she comes in.”
“Did I... Did I look scared?”
“Not really.”
She was being kind. “I’ve been feeling slightly jumpy.” Eve tried to distract herself with an eye-catching top but her gaze slid back to the salesgirl. “I heard about what happened... you know, on the first day.”
The salesgirl didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she turned her attention to tidying a stack of sweaters. After a few seconds, she looked up. “What did you hear?”
“You know. The woman overboard incident.”
“Where did you hear that?”
Belatedly, Eve wondered if perhaps she should be more careful about sharing information. “I heard it mentioned at lunch. I caught the tail end of a conversation.”
“No one’s supposed to talk about it in public.”
“Because it would upset the passengers?”
The salesgirl nodded. “Ship’s policy.”
“Was she a customer here?”
“Oh, yes. She was a big spender.”
“Really? How big?”
“Black Amex big.”
The invite only credit card? One had to be seriously wealthy to own one of those. For some reason, Eve couldn’t connect the idea of being extremely wealthy and belonging to a Carmen Miranda impersonator club.
“Holler if you need anything.” The salesgirl moved on.
Eve wondered if that was her way of avoiding being dragged into a conversation she didn’t want to have for fear of losing her job.
She spent a few minutes looking at the display cases filled with glitzy items. All the price tags had been discretely tucked face down but she imagined they were well out of her range.
After another stroll around the ship she considered making her way back to the cabin when she heard a familiar tune. Eve turned and followed the beat until she reached a set of double doors.
The Starlight Clubroom.
She eased the door open, enough to peer inside.
“Left. Right, right. Left. One. Two. Three. Four.” Carlos clapped his hands. “Again. Chin up, shoulders back and smile. Smile. Left. Right. One. Two. Three.”
Lillian Wordsworth, a.k.a. silver Carmen Miranda, came to an abrupt halt and stomped her foot. “It’s not the same. It doesn’t feel right. When Crystal did it, the rhythm looked smoother.”
“That’s because she was lighter on her feet. You, my dear, are stomping around like an elephant,” Carlos hollered above the music. “Again, do it again.”
Swirling around, Lillian turned her back to Carlos. Her shoulders were lifted nearly to her ears. When she swung back, her eyebrows were drawn down into a scowl.
“This is not the same routine. I told you I wanted—” Lillian lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the spotlight shining on the stage. “Who’s there?” She clicked her fingers at Carlos. “There’s someone there. This is supposed to be a closed session.”
Eve took a retreating step but she’d already been spotted.
“Who are you,” Lillian demanded.
“Who? Me?” she asked, her voice all innocence.
“Yes, you. Come forward.”
Lillian used such a commanding tone Eve couldn’t help taking a step forward.
“Turn around.” Lillian stomped her foot. “Don’t gape like a fish. Turn around.”
Eve did as told.
“She’ll do.”
“I’ll do what?”
“Step in and help us in our hour of need,” Carlos explained.
Eve gestured with her hand and pointed at the entrance. “I was only passing through.”
“She’s the right height. Her cheeks are a bit plump but we can overlook that.”
They could?
“Be here tomorrow morning. Now you may leave.” Lillian Wordsworth waved her hand and returned to her dance routine.
Eve cleared her throat. “Would you mind explaining—”
“Why is she still here?”
Carlos strode over to her. He tapped his chin. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
He didn’t remember her? She’d been sitting at the bar when David had interrogated him...
“I have one of those faces. People often think they’ve met me or they mistake me for someone else.”
He shook his head. “We need someone to step in for... someone. The Carmen Miranda Encore Club needs a photo with all one hundred participants. One is missing but they refuse to dwell on their misfortunes.” He gave a helpless shrug. “No one wants to remember they lost a member on their anniversary year.”
“You want m
e to...”
“Pose for a group photograph. There’s nothing to it. We’ll provide the costume.”
She couldn’t resist asking, “Costume?”
He gestured toward Lillian who wore her trademark silver ensemble. “It’s a Carmen Miranda Extravaganza.”
And she’d be required to wear a dead woman’s clothes. “I’ll be here.” Her and her plump cheeks.
* * *
“Where have you been?” Mira asked. “We were about to go out searching for you.”
Striding into the cabin, her hands in her pockets, her lips puckered up as she whistled softly, Eve noticed the slight tension on Mira’s face. It spoke volumes. She hated being responsible for it, but she supposed Mira had reason to worry. They were out at sea in what was generally thought of as a small city. The law of averages alone was enough to tip the scales in favor of something happening. An illness. An accident. An assault. A murder... or two.
“I went poking around the ship. Played around with the idea of putting in some time at the gym. By then, I’d walked off lunch so I stopped for a coffee.” She’d deliberately delayed coming back to the cabin thinking Mira would appreciate having some alone time with David. “I see you two have been busy.” She’d decided she wouldn’t tell them about her run in with Lillian Wordsworth. Not until she had something solid she could share with them.
“We’ve been crunching numbers,” David said, “I’m afraid this is the best I’ve been able to come up with. I managed to catch up with the bartender.”
“That’s good news.”
“Carlos ordered his drink at eleven forty.”
That would have been soon after he said he spoke with Crystal.
Eleven forty.
Eve would have been back in her cabin, talking to Mira...
David tapped the list he’d been working on. “You arrived at the scene at midday and saw Lillian Wordsworth leaving the cabin.”
Could she be one hundred percent sure? “Well, I assume she came out of the cabin. It looked as if she was walking diagonally across the hallway, but she might have been struggling to find her sea legs or maybe practicing one of her steps...”
“She’s possibly the last person to see Crystal Reid alive.” David tapped the space between the names he’d written down. “Let’s assume Lillian Wordsworth is innocent.” David shrugged. “She might have knocked on the door and when no one answered, she would have gone on her way. We now have to account for this twenty minute gap.”
Something they’d be able to do with no problems if they had access to the video footage. “Carlos and Lillian were not the only ones to have contact with Crystal Reid. There were others. Remember I spoke with Joanne who has the cabin next to Crystal’s. She said she heard several voices. And so did the woman in the other cabin. Although, I’m not sure how reliable her memory is. She said she’d been partying before coming on board...”
“Did you get her name?” David asked.
“No. It didn’t occur to ask.”
David sat back. “We need to speak with Lillian Wordsworth. Maybe she saw something... or someone.”
Eve couldn’t decide if she should tell them she’d been invited... commanded to participate in a photo shoot. Her practical mind insisted it would be a good idea to have some sort of backup. If Mira and David knew what she was getting up to and something happened to her, then they’d raise the alarm. “I think I can do that.”
“Isn’t she the one who gave you the death stare, Eve?” Mira asked.
“I might have been hasty and judgmental. What I call a death stare appears to be her natural look.”
“And you know that because...” Mira prompted her.
“Is that coffee?” Eve asked.
“Yes, would you like some?”
Eve cast her eyes over the coffee table. She didn’t want to ask the obvious question. Mira and David had had dinner in the cabin. “It’s a bit late for me.” Then again, she didn’t think she’d get any sleep. She sat down next to David. “I didn’t want to say anything... in case I met another dead end.” She told them about her walk after lunch and how she’d happened upon a rehearsal session. “The door had been left slightly ajar.” Sort of...
Mira looked at David. “Eve tends to read those as open invitations.”
“Strangely enough, I was drawn in by the music. It grows on you. Anyway, Lillian was practicing some steps and, from what I saw, she wasn’t getting them right. Also, she sounded annoyed because she kept saying the steps didn’t look like—”
“Yes?”
Eve closed her eyes and ran through the conversation she’d heard. “She was learning someone else’s steps.”
Mira put her hand up. “Let me guess, Crystal’s routine.”
“Yes. Does that strike you as odd?”
“A little,” Mira admitted. “Lillian must have her own routine. Why would she want to learn someone else’s?”
Eve twirled an imaginary mustache. “Because it’s better. Because she’s been secretly admiring it. Coveting it to the point of entertaining nefarious intentions.”
Both Mira and David stared at her, their eyes unblinking.
“Hey, people have killed for less.” She sat back and closed her eyes only to spring them open again. “Did I say the door to Crystal’s cabin had been left ajar?”
“Yes.”
When Eve had gone chasing after the Carmen Miranda impersonator, she’d swear Crystal’s door hadn’t been open...
“You look pale,” David said.
“Do you remember suggesting the killer might have been in the cabin while I was there?”
He nodded.
She closed her eyes again and saw herself rushing toward the elevator and then walking back toward Crystal’s cabin. In that time, the killer had tried to make his... her getaway and that’s the reason why the cabin door had been left open. He or she had heard Eve coming back...
Chapter Eleven
Eve’s heart gave a hard thump against her chest. She dragged in a breath but it lodged in the back of her throat.
What had come over her? Eve Lloyd did not cower or shy away from a challenge. Not usually... Hardly ever.
Pressing her hand against the Starlight Clubroom door, she peeked inside.
Cherries. Pineapples. Bananas.
Ninety-nine Carmen Miranda impersonators. All talking at once. A killer hiding in plain sight. Or rather, among a bunch of bananas.
She jumped back. Before the door could close, someone brushed past her and entered.
“Coming in?”
The polite gesture took her by surprise. Then Eve noticed the woman wore a pincushion on her wrist and a tape measure around her neck. She wasn’t a Carmen Miranda.
“I’m actually waiting...” To scrape together enough courage, she silently thought. The moment she stepped inside, she would be at their mercy. It would be her against ninety-nine of them.
The woman shrugged and strode inside the clubroom leaving Eve to consider her options.
Accepting the invitation to step in and take the place of a dead woman had left her with no options and, in reality, it hadn’t been an invitation but rather a command. And a timely one too since the order had been issued shortly after she’d wondered how she could infiltrate the inner circle.
Jill would insist it had been the result of her asking for something specific and receiving it without much effort on her part. Eve was fast coming round to Jill’s way of thinking. When she’d fallen in love with a fancy French stove priced out of her range, the money had come to her from an unexpected source... without any real effort on her part.
Should she perhaps ask the invisible powers that be to point the killer out to her? From a safe distance... and without any risk to her life... or the lives of those dear to her.
Eve nibbled the edge of her lip.
She didn’t think she’d left anything out.
Feeling a renewed sense of confidence, she stepped inside the Starlight Clubroom.
Hardly anyone noticed her. After a sweeping glance around, she made a point of committing details to memory. Costumes. Colors. Faces. Mostly, she kept an eye out for anything that might strike her as familiar.
She gave herself a few minutes to adjust to the scene and then she began her search for Lillian... She had to be here. Her and Bethany Logan.
She brought to mind Bethany’s costume. Purple with a yellow turban and bright red cherries.
“There she is.”
She turned and saw Carlos approaching her, his hands extended in welcome.
“Everyone’s excited.”
Yes, Eve could feel the energy buzzing.
“Come through to the dressing room. We have someone to help with any adjustments you might need.”
Eve hoped her smile hid her feeling of dread. She followed Carlos backstage and into a dressing room. Large mirrors lined one wall reflecting several racks of costumes on the opposite side. The hive of activity mixed with the flow of chatter had her straining to focus. Pay attention, she told herself.
“Everyone,” Carlos clapped his hands. “This is our one hundredth Miranda.”
The drone of voices faded to whispers and then the room fell silent. All eyes were pinned on her as everyone regarded Eve with curiosity.
Eve watched for anyone showing something other than general interest, but their scrutiny didn’t last long. Within seconds, they all lost interest in her and returned to chatting or adjusting their clothes.
“This is Genie,” Carlos said, “She’ll help you out with your costume.”
Eve turned toward Genie. The woman who’d entered the clubroom ahead of her had a couple of pins protruding from the corner of her mouth. She removed them and, with one sweep of her eyes, she appeared to take Eve’s measure.
“You’re about the same height as Crystal. I think the clothes will fit you fine.” She gestured for Eve to follow her.
“Did you know Crystal?”
Genie nodded. “I met her last year when I first started working here. She kept me busy. Unlike the others, Crystal liked to change her outfit to suit her mood.”
“And the others didn’t mind?”
Genie leaned in. “They might have, but none of them had the nerve to voice their opinions. Crystal had too much pull.”