Darcy knocked on Abby’s cabin door, praying she’d find Abby’s roommate, Pam, in a more amicable mood than the last time they spoke. In an effort to help that mood along, she’d come armed with a piping hot mocha—extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings.
Her encounter with Ted had reminded her that she still had the rest of Abby’s belongings to go through. The night of Abby’s disappearance, she’d only been able to grab Abby’s purse—which was now missing.
While she doubted Abby would have intentionally left anything incriminating in her own cabin—anything that could show the truth of who she was—perhaps Darcy would find some clue. And if nothing else, she wanted to make sure Abby’s things remained safe, that Abby’s roommate didn’t decide they were fair game.
She knocked a second time, and the door opened. Pam leaned against the doorframe, looking no less tired than she had the morning they’d met.
“Yeah?”
If it were possible, she looked even less pleased to see Darcy than before.
“Hi.”
Pam stared at her blankly.
“I’m Darcy. We met the other night.”
“Oh, right. The journalist with all the questions.” She looped her belt across her fluffy pink robe and knotted it.
Darcy held up the peace offering. “I brought you a mocha. Thought you could use it. I’m sure you had another long night.”
Pam eyed her cautiously but took the drink. “Thanks.”
“I’m sure it’s hard working such late shifts.”
Pam shrugged and walked back into the room, leaving the door open. If that wasn’t an invitation, Darcy didn’t know what was. She darted inside before Pam could change her mind and shut the door behind her.
The room was much as it had been the other morning: Abby’s bed made, her side of the cabin neat—Pam’s half rumpled and tossed with clothes.
“What do you want?” Pam asked, lounging back on her bed and removing the lid of her drink. Steam escaped in a swirl, but Pam’s eyes lit at the generous dollop of whipped cream.
Darcy sat in the only chair that wasn’t filled with clothes and contemplated how she could claim Abby’s things without making Pam suspicious. “When I spoke to Abby my first day on board, she indicated she had some excursion notes to show me.” Actually, they were case notes, but Pam didn’t need to know that.
“Notes?” Pam took a tentative sip, whipped cream clinging to her upper lip.
“Like a travel journal of sorts.”
“To help with your assignment, your story?”
“That’s my hope.” Though, again, she doubted Abby would leave anything too incriminating in her room, amongst her personal belongings. She’d have found another place on the ship to stash her notes. Someplace where no one could tie them back to her. But with the ship being so enormous, it seemed easiest to start with her cabin and move out from there.
Besides, protecting the rest of Abby’s belongings suddenly felt important. What if Pam decided they were up for grabs? What if she started wearing Abby’s things or, worse yet, selling them off to crew members? “Mullins has been breathing down my neck to get the right feel for my stories, and I thought maybe looking through an excursion crew member’s travel journal could give me great insight.”
Pam lifted a nail file and started with her right hand. “I get what you’re saying about Mullins. She can be a real pain in the neck, but I imagine she has to be with the crew she’s got.”
“What do you mean?” Darcy’s gaze roamed over Abby’s nightstand, which was clear on top, and then to her bed—Is that a book?—before quickly shifting her attention back to Pam.
Pam set the nail file aside, taking another sip of mocha, then retrieved the file and set back to work. “How would you like to be in charge of some four hundred employees? She has to stay on top of them all. I don’t know how she keeps everyone straight.”
Mullins. Of course. Being employee liaison, she’d have access to everyone’s files, access to their personal information and employment history. Darcy grimaced. She’d clearly been out of the game too long—she should have started with Mullins.
“Toss in a high turnaround rate and snooty passengers,” Pam continued, switching the file from her right hand to her left. “I wouldn’t want her job for the world.”
“Yeah, doesn’t sound like much fun.” No wonder Mullins was stern—she probably had to be to get the job done.
“I think her only pleasure comes in firing people.” Pam blew across her nails.
“That’s sad.” Darcy stood and stepped toward Abby’s bed. The book looked like a Gideon Bible. It was highly unlikely it had anything to do with Abby—she avoided Bibles at all costs.
“That’s Mullins. Takes pleasure in people’s pain.” Pam took another sip of mocha and grabbed a red bottle of nail polish from her nightstand.
Darcy sank on the edge of Abby’s bed, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious, praying Pam wouldn’t ask her to go just yet. “I get the feeling Mullins wasn’t particularly fond of Abby.”
Pam knocked the bottle of polish against her palm, shaking it up. “That’s for sure.”
Darcy scooted forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Any idea why?”
“Things were fine before, but she seems steamed that Abby took off without notice.”
“I imagine it’s pretty hard finding replacements when you’re out at sea.”
“Yeah. You’d think.” Pam took a Q-tip and corrected a spot she’d polished onto her skin. “But Mullins has a surprising ability to find new people.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Pam resumed polishing, switching to her left hand. “None of us are sure how she does it, but when someone leaves unexpectedly, Mullins quickly reorganizes the shifts so we all pick up the slack—but fortunately for us, that never lasts long. There’s always someone new waiting in the next port or, at the very least, in time for the next cruise.”
It couldn’t be easy always finding replacements on such short notice, but she had mentioned something in the meeting about their usual provider working on finding a permanent replacement for Abby. “That’s impressive.”
“Resourceful is probably a better word for it.”
Interesting. “You seem to know exactly how stuff works around here.”
“I should.” Pam dropped the applicator brush back in the bottle of polish. “I’ve been on the Bering for five years.”
“Five years?” She looked young.
“Started when I was sixteen,” Pam said, blowing on her freshly polished nails.
“Is that even legal?” Good, Darcy, call her on the legality of her profession. That’ll help. Sheesh. Where was her head?
“It’s legal to work at sixteen. Besides, the ship is registered in the Bahamas—totally different set of rules.”
“Why is an Alaskan cruise line registered in the Bahamas?”
“Because that’s where the cruise line originated.” Pam carefully retrieved her mocha, holding it so as not to mess up her polish job. She took a sip and then continued, “Destiny still has ships in the Bahamas. It’s only been running the Bering in Alaska for the past five years.”
“Interesting combination—Bahamas and Alaska.”
“The ships go where there’s an interest in cruising.”
“Right.” The perfect setup for smuggling between the U.S. and foreign markets. She’d read about drug busts on Caribbean ships. Was it possible someone had decided to work the same scheme between Alaska and Russia? But what had scared Abby so? They’d investigated drug runners before.
Pam stood. “Thanks for the drink, but I better get ready for my shift.”
“Oh. Sure.” Darcy got to her feet. “I’ll just look through Abby’s things for that journal and be on my way.”
“Ain’t going to happen.”
But she’d thought they’d been making so much progress. “Why’s that?”
Pam moved to the closet, gingerly fingering through her garments, careful not to get any polish on them. “Her stuff isn’t here.”
“Not here? What happened to it?”
“It was collected after she left the ship.”
“Collected? By whom?”
“Mullins.”
Mullins. There was no doubt about the next person she needed to speak with.
“Oh, okay.” Darcy took a deep breath and made a show of looking around the room. She ended by picking up the Bible from Abby’s bed. “What about this?”
“Don’t know. It’s been there since Abby left, but I don’t know why she would have taken it out of the drawer. We didn’t see each other very often—because of our schedules and all that—but I never saw her reading it.”
It must have been underneath Abby’s purse when Darcy grabbed it that first morning—that might make it significant. “Hmm, I’ve always wondered about these.” She opened the Bible and flipped through the pages. No obvious clue struck her, but maybe a closer examination would reveal a message from Abby.
She held up the Bible. “Mind if I take this with me?”
Pam was still focused on drying her nails. “Sure, nobody ever reads those goofy things, anyway.”
Darcy tucked it in her purse and thanked Pam for her time. As she left the room, she was tempted to stop to more carefully search the Bible, but she decided the search for clues was better accomplished in the privacy of her cabin—or maybe she would stop by Gage’s room.
More than likely the Gideon Bible would come to nothing, but with a lighter heart than she’d felt in days, she headed for the elevator. Rounding a corner she heard a rustle and turned to—