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Mic opened her door to a furiously irate, beet-faced Dottie. “Who in the hell have you been talking to?” she growled. “We’re gonna be late for dinner,” she continued in a grouchy voice.
“I’ve been talking to Slade. Something’s come up and I think we’ll need his help...” she began.
“Oh, for heaven sakes, what’s come up?” Dottie grumped. “Can’t you stay away from him for six weeks?” she asked as she fixed her stormy eyes on Mic. Her fingernail clicked irritably on Michaela’s door.
Mic shook her head. In truth, Dottie was a little... maybe a lot... jealous of Slade. “It’s not that, Dottie,” she pleaded. “Come over here. Someone’s been in my room.”
“In your room? Who’s been in your room?” she asked as her blue eyes flashed with anger.
Michaela shrugged her shoulders, a concerned look on her face. “I don’t know. Let me show you. It’ll be a lot easier to show than to describe. Then, we’ll go to dinner,” she promised.
“Did you call ship security?” Dottie asked in a matter-of-fact voice as she eased her body into Michaela’s stateroom easy chair.
Michaela nodded and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I did, but they never showed up,” she said, her voice a bit defensive. “Just sit down and stay there,” Mic motioned toward the chair.
“Oh, all right,” Dottie snapped as she crossed her long, elegantly clad legs. “It better be good cuz I’m starving to death.”
Mic ignored her attitude and said, “When we came back from meeting with Senator Bostitch, Angel went nuts and sniffed all around the stateroom. He went crazy pawing and whining at my closet door. Then, after we looked in the closet, we found a razor blade on the floor. Look what I found,” she said as she held her closet door wide open for Dottie to inspect.
“Oh my God, someone cut up your clothes!” Dottie said, her voice a tiny squeak, as she paled under her makeup. Her blazing blue eyes had turned into pools of dark anger. “Who in the world would come in here and slice up your clothes?” she asked in a tight, irritated voice. She paused a moment with wide-open eyes and then added, “That’s a bit scary if you ask me.”
Mic shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve no idea, but there’s obviously someone on this ship who’s pretty mad at me. The thing is, I’ve no idea who in the world it could be,” she said ominously. “And, that’s the part that really bothers me,” she admitted in a low voice.
Dottie forgot about her hunger and sank deeper into the chair as she processed the destruction of Mic’s clothing. “Oh my God, Michaela, this is most alarming! And you say you called security and they didn’t show up?”
Mic nodded. “That’s true. I called, but they never came.”
“Pass me the damned phone. I’ll take care of that right now,” Dottie said in her countess voice.
Several moments later, there was a sharp knock on Michaela’s stateroom door. Mic answered it and saw two men, tough looking guys with faces carved in stone. Both carried concealed pistols and sported body armor.
One of the men smiled briefly when he recognized Dottie and stood up straighter, “How can we help you, Countess Borghase?” he asked in thickly accented English.
Dottie introduced Michaela and said, “Someone came into my granddaughter’s room while we were out. Look, the bastard cut up her clothes. Look at this,” Dottie ordered as she jerked Michaela’s closet door open.
The two men gawked at Michaela’s sliced up clothes. Finally, the security chief said, “When did you notice this, Madame?”
“On return to my room several hours ago,” Mic said clearly. “I called security several times, but no one came,” she said with a tight voice.
The second security officer gawked at her and said, “Is looks as though someone aboard the ship doesn’t like you, Madame. Perhaps a spurned lover from United States?” The man grinned and gave her an amused look.
Mic felt anger as the heat worked its way up her body. She was furious, shook her head, and clamped her mouth shut. She remained silent and decided not to honor the man’s suggestion with a response.
Dottie stood, and even though she had shrunk a little in her old age, she was still remarkably straight and tall. Her blue eyes froze on the man. “What did you say?”she demanded as Mic saw her clench and unclench her fist.
Uh oh, gotta intervene. Michaela realized. She knew Dottie was about a nanosecond from punching the male chauvinist in the face. She jumped into the conversation. “No, absolutely not. I’m traveling with the countess. We’ve met several people on board, but no one who wishes to harm me,” she assured the man.
The officer gave her a thin, unconvincing smile. “Really? How can you be so sure?” he asked in an officious manner.
“I have offended no one on board,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice, “and I want you to understand that.” She paused for a second as the man’s face hardened and a smirk appeared. She asked, “Is that clear?”
The man nodded. “I understand, Madame. However, you have most likely spurned someone’s attention. Someone from one of the bars or anywhere else on board. Perhaps after a glass or two of champagne,” he suggested and gloated with a sardonic smile.
Mic shook her head furiously. “I have not been in a bar after dark. There is no one.”
The senior security official looked at his partner. “I’ll file a report and will let the captain know what has happened,” he said as he looked at Michaela and Dottie.
“Could you take some pictures?” Mic asked. “As a part of the report.” She hoped her voice hadn’t sounded too sarcastic.
The man nodded, “Of course, Madame. It looks as though you were on your way to dinner. We’ll take care of this once you’re out of your stateroom.”
Michaela shook her head. “No, no gather your evidence now. The countess and I will watch you. It shouldn’t take long and I’m sure we can delay our reservation, can’t we, Countess?” she asked as she turned to Dottie with a raised eyebrow, her eyes green and glistening with anger.
“Absolutely. They’ll take us anytime,” she assured Michaela. “But I’m going to call the captain and have him come here as well. In my estimation, this is serious and worth the bother,” she said directly to the security guard.
The security official nodded and said, “Please, do call the captain. I know he’s been tied up, but may be free now,”
Dottie called the front desk and requested the captain’s presence in Michaela’s suite. “Sit down, Michaela. He’ll be right up and I’m sure the men will wait. It won’t be long,” she said as she stared at the security officers.
Michaela smiled at Dottie and said, “Certainly, Grandmother,” and laughed. Dottie often referred to Michaela as her granddaughter in situations like this. It just seemed an easier way to explain their relationship.
“Of course. We’ll stay here until the captain arrives. I need an update from him anyway about a bunch of stuff.”
“Of course, Grandmother,” Mic teased again, her green eyes flashed with fun. “Whatever you say,” she said happily.