While lined up in highway traffic going nowhere, Heather turned to Steve. “There's a major accident a mile ahead and no exit we can take. Looks like we're stuck for the foreseeable future.”
Steve had a practical side to him that shone through when a murder activated his mind. "I'm thinking about all the things I'd focus on if I were in Leo's shoes."
"Let's compare notes," said Heather. "I'd start with financial reports on everyone in the Green and Webber households. What about you?"
Steve rubbed his chin. "The wine. I’d want to know if it was a recent purchase and by whom. Or, was it already in stock in the Greens’ household? If it was, then the chances of the Webbers being involved goes down."
It was Heather's turn to say what else she'd prioritize. "I'd want to talk with the domestic help in both households."
"That reminds me," said Steve. "What would be your plan for getting information from the employment agency if we were working this case?"
"I thought about buying it. Either that, or pretending I’m looking at buying and staffing a home in River Oaks."
Steve chuckled. "Buying it would be the easy way to give you an inside track to some of the wealthiest families in Houston.” His voice took on a sinister tone as he spoke in an Eastern European accent. "You could recruit spies and plant them in every one of the homes owned by the capitalist pigs."
"On second thought," said Heather. "Buying a house in River Oaks might be a way to turn a few bucks and get information at the same time."
Steve chuckled and shifted in his seat. "Whatever you do, keep up with Sylvia Lopez somehow. I have a feeling she knows a lot more about Lucy and Howard Green. Also, she used to work for the Webber family."
Heather nodded. "Are you thinking she might know too much about the Greens for them to keep her on?"
"Yes, or they may think she’s served her purpose. Lucy already pumped Sylvia's well dry of information concerning the Webbers. I wouldn't put it past Howard to have done the same. However, if they let her go, she'll talk, especially if it takes a while to get another good-paying job. The Green family may be in a Catch-22 situation with Sylvia."
The car’s speakers announced a call from Heather’s father, interrupting the back-and-forth between Heather and Steve about how to proceed on the case. She answered with a cheery tone. "Good afternoon, this is a pleasant surprise."
"How would you and Jack like to go on a short cruise with me?"
Thinking her straightlaced father had changed to a career in standup comedy, she asked, "What's the punch line to this joke?"
"There's no joke. I'm considering buying a substantial amount of stock in a cruise line and wondered if you and Jack could get away. I value your opinions on whether it might be a worthwhile investment."
Heather realized her mouth had hinged open. She swallowed and asked, "How long have you considered this purchase?"
"I've had my eye on the cruise industry for two years. The companies burned through money during the last downturn and I think there’s a chance for a tremendous upswing. I'd like to see for myself how the ships look and run by taking a few cruises. Would you and Jack like to join me?"
"Father," said Heather in a soft tone. "How are you coping without Mother?"
"Fine, fine. Do you think you and Jack can get away?"
"The last cruise you took was a transatlantic voyage on your honeymoon. Is this sudden interest in cruising about prudent investment decisions or something else?"
The excitement left his voice. "I'm trying to convince myself it's about business. It's the only way I can justify seeing something other than this empty house and my office downtown. People tell me not to make any rash decisions for a least a year, but—"
Steve interjected, "That's good advice."
"Is that you, Steve?"
"It is, Mr. McBlythe. I think the idea of cruises is excellent, especially if you're serious about a major stock purchase. There's nothing like seeing for yourself how a business is run. I understand there are a lot of cruise lines and they all cater to different demographics. Are you considering just one line, or multiple companies?"
"One in particular, but perhaps it would be a good idea to look at several."
Heather broke in, "There's no reason you can't run your business from a ship. You could even take a couple of staff members with you."
Steve added, "It will do you good to get away, work enough to keep the plates spinning, and see fresh sights."
"Tell us about the first cruise you have planned," said Heather.
"It's a repeat of the transatlantic crossing your mother and I took. I'll leave from Southampton, England and sail to New York."
"Please reconsider," said Heather. "Go someplace new and warm. There's nothing between England and New York but memories.”
Mr. McBlythe sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“I'll do some research on the various lines and call you tonight."
Steve added, "There's a cruise out of Galveston in about three weeks I might be interested in going on."
Heather looked at him, "There is?"
"You might go on it, too."
Heather thought for a minute and she exclaimed, "Oh! You're right. We might both be going on that one."
Her father's next words had a lighter air to them. "That sounds intriguing. Are you two working another murder case?"
Steve handled this one. "We're on the way back to our condos from the home of Sid Green."
"The oil tycoon?"
"That's him. A maid found Sid’s daughter-in-law dead in her bed this morning. It looks like foul play. Do you know if his son, Howard, runs things now?"
"Let me think." There was a three second pause. “Unless something has changed, that old buzzard Sid is still in charge. I'll double check and make sure that's accurate."
Steve then asked, "Are you familiar with the ongoing feud between the Green family and the Webbers?"
"It goes back generations. A real Hatfield and McCoy story, except it involved oil and two fortunes."
It was Heather's turn. "The cruise we were alluding to involves a destination wedding between the youngest generation of Green offspring, named Chad, and Anna Webber, great-granddaughter of the late Peter Webber."
"Ah. Karl and Ingrid Webber must be Anna's grandparents. He's not a bad sort, but that wife of his is the one who wears the pants in the family. Watch out for her. She's as ruthless as she is smart."
Heather's father stopped his narrative long enough to take a breath. "I can't believe either family would allow a wedding."
"It looks like it will happen, unless it's canceled because of Lucy Green’s death," said Steve.
“Keep me apprised of how that case is going,” said Mr. McBlythe. "A Christmas getaway combined with a few fireworks from the Greens and Webbers sounds rather intriguing.”
Heather chuckled. “I’ll keep you in mind. What about cruises between now and Christmas? There might be a short one you could squeeze in."
"Perhaps. I'm not really that interested in buying a cruise line, but I would like to experience the different classes from ultra-luxury, down to the cheapest cabin in the industry. Besides, my doctor told me I needed to increase my vitamin D. If I go to the Caribbean or the Mediterranean, I can work on a tan."
"You've never had a tan in your life," countered Heather.
"Not since you came along, Daughter. Call me tonight."
The car's computer announced, Call Disconnected.
Steve turned to Heather. "You gave him hope. I heard it in his voice."
Traffic moved and Heather wondered what else she could do to ease her father's loneliness. Nothing came to mind, so she drove without speaking, racking her brain for answers to a situation with which she had no experience—a grieving parent who wasn't getting any younger.
As they approached the Loop 610 interchange, Steve's phone announced an incoming call from Bella Brumley. He put it on speaker. "Good afternoon. This is an unexpected pleasure."
In her mind's eye, Heather saw the tall, statuesque beauty sitting in a lounge chair at her parents’ hotel in the U.S. Virgin Islands. Bella's outburst of sobs took her by surprise.
"What's wrong?" asked Steve in a measured tone. “Talk to me. Are you alright?”
"No! I'm horrible. I'm coming to see you and wanted to know if Heather could put me up for a while."
Heather didn't wait for Steve to speak, "Of course I can. When are you coming?"
"Oh, Heather! It's so good to hear your voice." More sobs and a loud blow of the nose. "My life is over. You and Steve have to tell me what to do."
Steve, the ever-practical one asked, "Where are you?"
"At the airport." More sobs accompanied by hiccups.
"What airport?"
"Houston's airport. The big one, near where you live."
"Do your parents know where you are?"
"Uh-huh. I left home yesterday and made it to Miami. I was going to call you but my phone went dead and my charger was in my luggage. On top of that, I missed my flight last night." The crying returned with a vengeance. "They wouldn't let me on the plane because I couldn't stop crying."
"So you slept in the airport?"
"Uh-huh."
Heather said, "We're not far. Get all your luggage and go out to the curb. I'm driving a black Mercedes SUV."
"All right," came the timid, shame-laced voice. The phone call cut off.
Heather moved into the right lane so she wouldn't miss the exit to Houston's Bush Intercontinental Airport. She glanced to her right. "What do you think is wrong with Bella?"
Steve shook his head. "I was afraid this would happen. Bella has the body and brains of someone much older, but because she missed out on so much growing up the way she did, she's what I'd call emotionally stunted. With her adoptive father raising her in his shadow on his television hunting show, she never had the chance to be a teenager. When she told me she was considering marrying a pilot who did island hops in the Caribbean, I sensed she was in for a heartache."
"Did you warn her?"
"Not strong enough, I guess." He let out a huff. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little new to this quasi-parenting stuff. Give me a murder to solve, and I'm right at home. Throw in a girl kidnapped as a child and trained to be a television personality, and I'm out of my league."
"I’ve never heard her cry like that."
Steve did a finger roll on his thigh. He stopped after six times. "Nothing hurts worse than a broken heart."
Heather shot him a longer glance. "Is that from experience?"
"I lost Maggie, didn't I?"
Heather grimaced. What a thoughtless remark. In her defense, Steve knew he was stretching the comparison. She lowered her voice, "You know I wasn't talking about Maggie. Did you ever get dumped as a teen?"
"Twice. Once in the seventh grade and again my junior year of high school. The last one told me I was a lousy kisser."
Heather tried to hold in the laugh, but there was no stopping it. "What did you do about that?"
"Nothing, until I got to college. After word got around that a dead fish had more zing in its lips than mine, I thought it best to wait until after I graduated high school before I tried again."
"Girls can be so cruel," said Heather.
"Everything turned out all right. All it took was one good woman who liked my fish kisses, and I was set for life."
"There's Bella," said Heather as she pulled to the curb.
"Load her and let's get home and order pizza. It may not mend her broken heart, but it won't hurt. She'll talk after she feels safe and loved."
"Speaking of love," said Heather. "I need to check in with Jack before he dumps me. It wouldn't do for you to have to deal with two distraught women at once."
"Three," said Steve. "Kate's been calling me all day and I haven't returned her calls."