I opened my eyes and stretched languidly. My body was sore, but sated. I felt relaxed and rested, but at the same time in want of further sleep. Yet something at the back of my mind told me not everything was as it should be. Then, I became aware of deep breathing beside me and I turned my head slowly to the source, not wanting to disturb him.
Smythe was out like a light, sleeping on his side, facing me. I watched him for several moments as my horrified mind flooded with images of what had transpired during the night. I felt like screaming with joy, but also with alarm. As usual, I’d managed to get myself into trouble.
I had to get out of here immediately and seek the safe haven of my own cabin. I quashed my tumultuous emotions for the present and carefully slid out of bed while grabbing my discarded white dress, which lay in a heap on the floor. I slipped into it and looked for my undergarments. My panties rested on top of a lampshade and my bra lay over the plasma TV screen. I gathered them, together with my sandals, which I found in the bathroom, and softly made my way out of his cabin and into mine. I thanked my lucky stars the plastic key to my room was still in the small pocket of my dress and I hadn’t lost it somewhere in Smythe’s cabin.
Once inside, I tore off my garment and jumped straight into the shower, berating myself for being such a fool as hot jets of water almost scalded my skin. So much for my intention to wait and sort through my feelings relating to what I’d learned about my father and Smythe. In my usual impetuous fashion, I’d jumped head first into a world of erotic sensuality I’d never known existed. And I didn’t mean the mechanics of it—it wasn’t the sex and what we did, but how I felt when we did it. It was like everything in the universe fell into its rightful place the moment our bodies came together, and nothing else mattered.
I hated how I felt. It made me feel extremely vulnerable. It gave Smythe power over me. I didn’t want to feel this way. Not now, not ever. I’d learned the hard way in the past, and no man would ever have the opportunity to hurt me again.
I dried off from the shower and dressed in faded jeans, white T-shirt, and a pair of red Nike sneakers. I wore no make-up and allowed my hair to dry naturally while I grabbed the offending garments from last night and shoved them into a laundry bag. In the meantime, I debated whether to ring Chris in case he wanted to join me for breakfast even though it had only gone six. Before I could make up my mind, I heard a soft knock at my door. I knew who it was, but opened the door just the same.
Smythe stood on the other side, also showered, with still damp hair, and dressed in khaki shorts and a dark blue polo shirt. “May I?” he asked shyly.
I nodded, and he entered. I shut the door after him.
“What happened to you? I woke up and you were gone.” He moved toward me and kissed me gently on the mouth.
I turned away, frowning. “This is moving too fast for me. You must see that. I never meant for last night to happen.”
He nodded, albeit reluctantly. “That’s what I thought, and why I came to apologise. It was my fault. You were trying to tell me you needed time and I attacked you instead. I was no better than Cliff Downes.”
This brought a faint smile to my lips. “Yes, but at least your advances were welcome, despite my confused feelings.”
He regarded me with warmth in his eyes and drew me gently into his arms. “I loved what happened between us. It’s like nothing I ever felt before with anyone.”
“Not even with Amanda?” I couldn’t help myself.
He kissed the top of my head. “No. Not even Amanda. Amanda and I were merely consoling each other. I know this now.”
I disengaged from the embrace and took a step back so I could gaze into his eyes. “Smythe, I feel the same way you do. But I still need time to process everything, and I think we should remain friends until this is all over. Once we’re back home we can talk about it. Deal?”
He regarded me for a long time, desire in his eyes mixed with an emotion I couldn’t put a name to. “Only under one condition,” he said finally.
Now what? I thought. I looked questioningly at him and waited for his reply.
He suddenly smiled and said, “That you quit calling me Smythe. I think after what we’ve done I’ve earned the right to be called by my first name.”
This was the last thing I expected to hear and I gave him an amused look. “Okay,” I agreed. “But only when we’re alone. I don’t want the others to know what’s been going on. So in public, you’ll always be ‘Smythe’ to me.”
He accepted this with a good natured, “Very well.”
I sighed with relief. He understood and respected my needs. It was a good beginning, and one that should be celebrated with food. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Sex does that to me,” I confessed.
He laughed. “Great minds think alike. Care to join me for breakfast?”
I nodded and we left the cabin together.
~~~
Smythe and I were eating in the buffet restaurant and chitchatting when Chris suddenly appeared at our table, startling us.
“Mia, I’ve been ringing your cabin since six. Where were you?”
He looked like he’d barely slept, but there was a glint of excitement in his eyes that set my heart beating faster. “Couldn’t sleep so I came up here for an early breakfast and ran into Smythe,” I told him, amazed at how easily the lie came to my lips. “It’s obvious you found something, Chris. But by the looks of you, you need coffee and something to eat before you tell us. So off you go. We’ll be here waiting.”
Chris nodded and took off.
“Well, Ferrari,” Smythe remarked with an amused grin, “already up to no good, I see. It’s barely seven and you’ve already delivered your first lie of the day.”
I smirked at his comment. “Better than telling him we shagged all night, Smythe.” This took care of his teasing, but I felt good inside because it was the kind of friendly banter I wanted to have between us. And when he called me by my last name, he sounded so sexy it made me want to do things to him that wouldn’t be deemed suitable behaviour in a buffet restaurant. I quickly shoved all sexual thoughts out of my head and psyched myself up for business.
Upon Chris’s return with a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, grilled tomatoes, Italian sausage, and toast, I espied a sleepy-looking Dobbs walking into the restaurant. He saw me almost immediately and motioned that he was going for food.
“Dobbs just walked in,” I said to Chris. “Let’s wait until he gets here before you tell us what you found.”
Chris nodded, too busy to talk, as he wolfed down his breakfast. Meanwhile, Smythe and I sipped our coffees in contented silence until Dobbs joined us, his plate similarly piled up like Chris’s.
“So what’s with the early hours?” Dobbs asked before tucking in like a man possessed.
I smiled. “I guess it’s the thought of the killer having only three days left in which to finish off whatever it is he set out to do. I’m sure he’s going to try to kill again. I discussed this briefly with Chris last night; and I think we need to flush him out before his next kill. Not only this, but Chris made some progress with his side of things.”
Smythe said, “Regarding flushing out the killer, we need to discuss this in more detail before we agree on such a course of action.”
“Of course, Smythe,” I replied, pretending to be annoyed for the others’ benefit. “It’s not like I was going to go ahead without your and Dobbs’s blessing. Besides, I’ve already got the bait all picked out.” When I told them about Enrico volunteering for the job, they were stunned—even Dobbs stopped eating momentarily.
“The guy’s a nutter, I tell you,” Dobbs stated before turning his focus back on the food.
“Well, whichever way this plays out, we need to meet with Garcia and his men,” Smythe said. “We have to be able to minimise the risk to all involved, especially if Enrico is bent on playing the bait.”
I agreed. “Okay. Let’s set up a meeting with Garcia and whoever you think should be there. Meanwhile, Chris, we’re ready for you.”
Chris had finished his food by this time and was onto his second cup of coffee. “I’ve been trying to do two things: find out Erotic Heart’s true identity and check if Enrico belongs to the cheaters’ forum.”
“And?” I prompted.
“Still working on Erotic Heart, I’m afraid; but you were right about Enrico, Mia. He’s in the forum as ‘Deep Throat’; yet another one of the horse names Mrs Barry gave us.”
“I knew it!” I banged the palm of my hand down on the table. “Something told me he was close to the group despite the fact he was turned down for that promotion years ago.”
“You think he’s the killer?” This from Smythe.
I shook my head. “No. Somehow, I don’t think so. But he does have a love for the dramatic.”
“So which thread in the forum did you find him in, Chris?” Smythe asked.
Chris grinned. “The men with men, of course.”
Dobbs rolled his eyes and remarked with sarcasm, “What else did you expect?”
“Yes, but get this,” Chris went on. “Not only is Enrico in the forum, but I managed to cross-reference two posts where he communicates with Erotic Heart.”
“No!” I declared in disbelief.
“Oh yes!” Chris nodded emphatically. “And she had a thing with him, too.”
Now, we all looked stunned. “You mean, like through the back door?” I said, trying to keep the conversation from getting into explicit sexual talk.
Dobbs, unfortunately, sabotaged my intent by exclaiming, “You mean she let him do her up the a—” He became aware of his surroundings just in time and cleared his throat. “I... er... I think I get the point.”
“The answer is yes, Dobbs,” Chris replied.
“Okay, so how does this change anything?” Smythe put in.
I shrugged. “I don’t think it does. But what I do think is that Enrico knew about all the victims being in the cheaters’ forum. This is what prompted him to spread the rumour of who’d be next on the list. At the same time, he’s probably as concerned as us to catch the killer. I say he knows more than we do and he has a feeling he might be next.”
“And why didn’t the little bastard tell us this in the beginning to save us time? We might’ve been able to avert all those kills,” Dobbs uttered with anger in his voice.
“Who knows,” I replied. “Maybe it took him too long to figure it out and by the time he did, he was too afraid to come forward. This is why I think he’s volunteered to be the bait. It’s his way to atone for holding back information.”
Chris’s eyes shone when he spoke. “Just think, though; he might be able to tell us Erotic Heart’s true identity. I mean, he did her... um... I meant to say, he had an illicit liaison with her after all.”
“And,” I added, “he may know who else from the convention group is in the forum. He could even know their usernames, which means we can pre-warn them.”
“Let’s get him in for questioning,” Smythe said.
~~~
While Chris went off to continue with his work in case we didn’t get any new information, Smythe arranged with Garcia to bring Enrico in for questioning. Dobbs, Smythe, Garcia, and I were present when Enrico was escorted by Mark Evans into one of the meeting rooms in the security office. Mark showed him to a seat at the round table where we waited and then quit the room, closing the door behind him.
Seeing as I knew Enrico best, I asked the first question. “Why didn’t you tell us about Neurotic Erotics?”
Enrico had the good grace to look ashamed. “I’m sorry about that.” He sounded genuine. “I wasn’t sure until I put two and two together.” He threw me a pleading look. “I was going to tell you all about it, Mia. But then, when you suggested I be the bait to flush out the killer, I thought it was a great idea. I didn’t want to upset the other members by having you”—he swept both arms in a gesture to encompass all of us around the table—“asking a whole bunch of personal questions of them.”
Smythe stated firmly, “So you simply let the murderer run around the ship, killing whoever he wants, and you turn it into a game of ‘who’s next’!”
Enrico looked down at his hands, which he’d placed on his lap. “It wasn’t like that. When I realised what was happening, I was going to tell you.”
“Do you know who the killer is?” Garcia leaned forward, his face serious.
Enrico sat back in his chair as if afraid. He undoubtedly felt cornered by all of us shooting questions at him. “No, I don’t know. I don’t understand the connection. Why is the killer after members of the forum?”
“We think it’s a revenge thing,” I answered, knowing for sure Enrico couldn’t possibly be the killer. “What do you know about someone called Erotic Heart?”
He gave me a confused look. “Who?”
I sighed. “Good God, Enrico, you had sex with her!”
He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands again. “I did? When?”
Chris had told us the posts he found linking Deep Throat and Erotic Heart were five years old. “Sometime in 2008 or thereabouts.”
Enrico’s eyes flashed annoyance as he gazed at me. “How should I know who I saw back then? I happen to have a very busy sex life, you know! Besides, the club takes discretion very seriously. A lot of us wear a disguise if we don’t want others to know who we really are. After all, we’re all part of the medical community and we’d probably recognise each other.”
“So you’re expecting us to believe you had sex with a woman who was probably disguised as a man?” Dobbs stared at him with disbelief in his eyes.
Enrico shrugged. “I’m not into women generally. But if some woman dresses as a man, and takes it like one; who am I to argue?”
I felt like wringing his little gay neck for once. He made sex sound so cheap and sordid. But in his world, it obviously was. We were getting nowhere with him, and Erotic Heart’s identity still remained a mystery. “Okay,” I said, trying to control my temper, “can you at least provide us with a list of usernames of people in the forum who might also be on this ship?”
Enrico nodded. “There aren’t many—only the ones I know really well. Remember, discretion is the key to our club.”
“Officer Garcia, can you get some paper and a pen?” I asked. “We’ll give Enrico a few minutes to write whatever names he knows. I say we reconvene in about ten minutes.”
The others agreed, and while Garcia went in search of pen and paper, the rest of us moved into another office and waited until Garcia rejoined us.
“He’s writing something,” Garcia reported when he returned. “Not sure if it’ll help, though.”
Smythe said, “Meanwhile, Mia wants to put together this plan to flush out the killer. Mia?” He turned the floor over to me.
“Well, seeing as Enrico volunteered to be the bait, and the good news is he’s part of this cheaters’ forum, I say we get him to go around boasting to all who will listen that he made it with someone called Erotic Heart. He can drop a few hot comments about his ‘unforgettable night with her’. You know; something that’ll enrage the killer enough to go after Enrico.”
There was silence around the table while the men thought for a few moments. Then, Dobbs commented, “So since we don’t know the order of who is next on the killer’s list, you’re going to get Enrico to force his hand.”
I nodded. “I say it’ll drive the killer crazy to think this gay drama queen made it with his spouse, and he’ll go after him.”
Smythe concurred. “And I say we have nothing to lose. It may very well force the killer’s hand. Of course, we have to keep surveillance on Enrico twenty-four seven. We can’t risk something happening to him.”
“I have three men at my disposal in addition to myself,” Garcia offered.
“Plus there’s Smythe and me,” Dobbs put in.
“And me, too,” I added.
“No!” Smythe uttered, turning to me with a protective look in his eyes. “No way am I putting you in the path of the killer. Look at what happened with Downes; the man practically raped you!”
I felt anger bubble away beneath the surface of my being. Just because we’d shared a night of passion didn’t mean Smythe owned me. “Hey, this was my idea, Smythe! And I’m in, whether you like it or not!”
Smythe frowned, Dobbs shook his head at my outburst, and Garcia regarded me with admiration. “She’s right, you know,” Garcia said, making the other two turn on him while I smiled.
“You can’t be serious, Jerry!” Dobbs protested. “I can’t allow Mia to be exposed to danger.”
Smythe simply fumed, but remained silent.
Garcia shook his head. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, don’t worry. I didn’t mean for Mia to take on surveillance by herself. There are six men altogether, so we’ll do an eight-hour shift in pairs. Mia will be an extra, and can hang out with you two if you like.”
Dobbs and Smythe looked mollified at this. “Very well,” Dobbs agreed reluctantly, but not before he got the nod of approval from Smythe.
I felt like telling them all where to go, but thought it prudent to keep my mouth shut. Better to hang out with Dobbs and Smythe than be left out of the operation altogether.
“Besides,” Garcia added with a smile, “I have a bit of an arsenal with me. Needless to say, those on shift will be armed.”
I opened my mouth with the intention of asking if I would be given a weapon, but Smythe’s hand covered my lips as he said, “Don’t even think about it, Ferrari.”