| |
Todd made sure a couple of uniformed officers stayed by the marked police cars and the empty ambulance, inviting public curiosity in the area. By the time we reached the walkway leading to King’s Wharf, a sizeable group of tourists, curious about the two women in wheelchairs with the big entourage, gathered along the path to watch us pass. Some shouted out questions, hoping for answers.
“What’s going on?” a middle-aged woman in too-tight Capri pants and a huge sun hat wanted to know.
“Is that a celebrity?” asked another gawker. “Quick, Sylvia. Take a picture.”
“Why are there so many police officers?” a mother asked her teenage son. “I hope nothing’s wrong.”
As one overeager tourist stepped into our midst, he suddenly found his effort blocked by one of the officers.
“I’m sorry, sir. Would you please step back?” said the polite, but determined lawman.
“Why can’t you tell me what’s going on?” the Nosy Parker demanded. “I have the right to know!”
“Excuse me, sir, but you really do need to step back.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to find out what’s going on!” he insisted.
“I assure you, sir, that if it had any bearing on your visit to Bermuda, you would be fully informed. Now, for the last time, I respectfully request that you take a step back, unless you prefer to have me assist you.”
By that time, we were already at the gate for the Visitors Information Center. A moment later, as we crossed the pavement to reach the entrance to the building, the officer rejoined us.
Laurel and Thaddeus were first in line. They flashed their credentials at the customs officer, who waved them on. They quickly disappeared through the doors.
Marley Hornsby had promised the FBI full cooperation, and that meant his security people were assisting on the case. While we waited to be cleared through Customs, Todd was on the phone, coordinating with his colleagues, already ensconced in the Liberty of the Seas security office.
“We should be coming aboard in about five minutes. Do we have the security team dressed in plain clothes now? Have them mingle with the passengers, on the off chance that our suspects show up.”
A few moments later, I was pushed up to the desk to answer the questions from a customs officer, who wanted to know why I didn’t have any identification with me. Mr. Godinger vouched for me, insisting that his chief had been in touch with the American government about my lack of a passport. He produced a faxed letter from Washington, which attested to the fact that I did have a valid passport and a verified American driver’s license, both of which had been stolen during the assault at the zoo. He presented certified copies of the documents. At last, I was allowed to pass.
We went through some of the same rigmarole once we proceeded up the gangway. The ship personnel also seemed to hem and haw over letting me back onto the Liberty of the Seas. They called the security office and Eleanor came down to vouch for me. She had to fight her way through the crowd of rubberneckers that had gathered by the elevator.
Once she approved me for sailing, Kenny took over wheelchair duty and the police and EMTs bade us goodbye. I breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator doors opened and I was whisked up to Stateroom 6615, where an anxious mother and physician awaited us.
“Oh, thank heavens you’re here. I was beginning to think you’d never show up,” Laurel announced, her relief palpable.
“You and me both,” I said, giving her a wan smile.
Thaddeus patted my shoulder. “How are you feeling, champ?”
“Like I was a punching bag for Mayweather,” I groaned. “I think I’m going to need a vacation after this ship docks in New Jersey.”
“Either that or a couple of weeks in a nursing home,” Kenny quipped. “I promise I’ll come visit you, Miz Scarlet.”
“Aren’t you sweet, acting as if I’m a hundred years old,” I replied drolly, rolling my eyes. “Will you bring me violets and rock candy that I can hide in my crinoline?”
“Rock candy!” Thaddeus laughed. “Boy, do I remember that stuff from my childhood. We used to buy it at the five-and-ten-cent store.”
As the ship was made ready to sail, Laurel and Thaddeus decided they wanted to grab a snack in the Windjammer Lounge, to tide them over until dinner.
“We never did have any lunch,” my mother reminded us. “Care to join us?”
I looked over at Kenny, who gave me an almost imperceptible shake of his head. That meant there was a plan in the works.
“No thanks, Mom. I think I just want to rest.”
“Why don’t we hit the Solarium and find a couple of lounge chairs?” Kenny suggested. “You can rest there while we sail off into the sunset.”
Yes, he’s definitely up to something. Is this supposed to be Marco and Missy’s chance to steal the CVS bag? Are they going to break into our stateroom again while we’re out? I might as well be a good sport and play along.
“How can I say no to an offer like that?”
We rode the elevator up with Laurel and Thaddeus. I listened to their conversation, struck by the fact that they had no idea the man who attacked me at the zoo was now sailing on the Liberty of the Seas.
“Maybe now we can have some peace and quiet,” my mother remarked, her relief obvious. “I’m so glad I don’t have to worry about that maniac coming after you again. I hope the Bermuda police find him and put him behind bars.”
“That would be great if they do.” I gave her a brief smile before turning my head. I didn’t want the woman known as the Wilson family’s human lie detector to notice my pants were on fire. Boy, are you going to be in hot water when your mother finds out what you’ve gotten yourself into now, Miz Scarlet. If you get hurt, she’s never going to forgive you, and if you die, she’s going to spend eternity castigating you for your idiocy.
“I don’t know about you three, but I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse.” Thaddeus patted his stomach. “And tonight, I just might.”
“I could go for a medium rare steak,” Kenny laughed, “and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.
“I’m famished and I don’t care what I eat,” I sighed. “I went light on my breakfast because I was expecting to have a big lunch in Flatts Village.”
“This just hasn’t been your day, Scarlet,” Laurel clucked, her maternal instincts kicking in.
“Not my day, not my week....”
“At least we have a reservation for the first dinner seating,” she said, taking the high road. “We’ll eat soon enough.”
“Not soon enough for me,” I groused. After so many hours without food, my stomach rumbled in protest.
“Come and find us when you two are ready to go back down to dress for dinner,” my mother called over her shoulder. “We’ll be sitting near the window.”
We left them at the entrance to the lounge, where some of the other passengers had already begun to gather. The sweet sounds of a steel drum filled the air with an inviting Caribbean vibe.
“Dance party!” hollered a man in a vibrant green tee shirt and a parrot hat, waving his arms above his head as he beckoned his fellow passengers. An impromptu conga line formed behind him and began to snake its way through the aisles. Kenny did a quick two-step around a couple who were hooting and hollering on their way to join it, never losing his grip on my wheelchair.
The Solarium was nearly deserted when we arrived. A dark-haired, red-suited woman was doing leisurely laps in the pool, keeping the steady pace of an experienced swimmer. Nearby, a bald man sat, head bowed, reading a paperback. I glanced up. On the deck above us, people gathered at the ship’s railing to catch their last glimpse of Bermuda. Suddenly, the relative calm was broken by a rather shrill squeal.
“Tom, you old wolf!” a redhead howled with delight, greeting a man who wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. “Where have you been hiding? We missed you at the bridge game last night!”
“And now begins the journey home,” Kenny announced, doing his impression of documentary filmmaker David Attenborough, with a nod to the passengers above us. “As the massive migration gets underway, the homo sapiens begin to present their own special behaviors....”
He steered me towards the wall of windows, where a line of lounge chairs offered a decent view of the harbor. With a hand from him, I carefully rose from the wheelchair and settled myself down on the closest padded chaise, my casted foot a dead weight. Hoisting it up with both hands, I placed it gently onto the seat and shifted carefully to find a good position. The purple toes peeking out from the royal blue cast were like miniature eggplants. Would I lose the nail on the big toe? It bore the brunt of the impact when my foot hit that curb. That ought to put a crimp in sandal season.
“Care for a drink?” he asked, rising to his feet.
“I sure would” I replied.
“What would you like?”
“Something fruity would hit the spot. Any chance I could have a virgin mango daiquiri? I’m on pain medicine.”
“I’ll do my best. Shall I grab something for us to nibble on while I’m at it?”
“That would be wonderful.”
“I shall return shortly, my love.”
The ship’s engines hummed as we began the process of casting off from King’s Wharf. For some of the passengers, their adventure was winding down. For me, it was just beginning. In less than forty hours, we would be disembarking in New Jersey. I had no idea how we were going to accomplish our goal of nabbing Marco and Missy by then.
I lay back on the chaise lounge with my eyes closed, letting my mind drift. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how Todd and the others were going to lure Missy and Marco into their trap. Where would it happen? Perhaps they would put me in the library and let me pretend to find the book George left there. Or would I be sitting at a computer desk and come across an email that revealed intimate details of Marco’s activities?
“Excuse me, miss.”
I opened one eye and found a friendly man in a Royal Caribbean uniform standing there. His name was Juan, according to his name tag. “Yes?”
“I am still stocking the bar. Forgive me, but I must go and fetch some supplies. I will be right back,” said the bartender. In his hand was an empty Planters peanuts carton.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m enjoying the peace and quiet,” I assured him. It was true. This was the first quiet moment I had had all day long and I wanted to relish it.
Kenny must have swum to shore and is now picking the mangoes in a grove for that daiquiri of mine. How else can he explain the long absence?
From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the dark-haired woman as she climbed out of the pool and joined the bald man. She grabbed the yellow-and-white towel as she sunk down on the chaise lounge beside him, drying herself off. She laughed at something he said, reaching out to put a hand on his arm, a gesture made by a lover. A moment later, her companion closed his book, picked up his sunglasses, and slipped them on. I could tell they were getting ready to leave. When she stood up, he did too.
Well, it looks like Kenny and I will have the place to ourselves. Maybe we can take a short nap before we rendezvous with the lovebirds in the lounge.
The bartender returned with his arms full. He unloaded a couple of mesh bags of lemons, limes, and oranges, tossing them on top of the bar, and disappeared once more.
Kenny still hadn’t returned. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this. Maybe he’s talking to Marley.
A security officer in a blue shirt came through the area, making the rounds. “Good evening, miss. I hope you’re enjoying your cruise.”
“I am at the moment,” I assured him, peering up at him through half-closed eyes. There was no need to bore the poor man with my vacation woes.
A couple of women wandered through the Solarium on their way to the spa, discussing the possibility of hitting the Catacombs for some nightclub action after dark. They lamented their prospects for finding any single men. Their voices soon faded, and when they did, I embraced the soothing tranquility of the Solarium. Please do not disturb Miz Scarlet—she is in the zone.
Lying on the chaise lounge, I felt the warm breeze tickle my skin. My eyes began to grow heavy. At this rate, I’ll be in la-la land before Kenny gets back.
I began to daydream about a return trip to Bermuda. There were so many things I wish we’d had the chance to do on this cruise, but with the crazy events of the past couple of days, almost all of our time had been taken up by one crisis or another. Next time, Kenny and I might try snorkeling. That would be fun. And I’d like to stay at a place that has its own beach. Maybe we could book a room with a balcony, so we can sit outside at night and watch the sun set.
I started making a mental list of all the activities I wanted to do when I returned to this subtropical paradise. I really enjoyed meeting Cedric’s cousin and wondered if I could get Niles to teach me some of his favorite drink recipes. I added a boat trip, maybe out to the shipwrecked H.M.S. Vixen. Wouldn’t that be appropriate, given our experience with Velma Sue and the band? Kenny and I could pack a picnic lunch for a trek on the Bermuda Railway Trail and explore all the out-of-the-way places most people never discover.
Click! The unexpected sound came just inches from my ear, startling me. I knew I should react, but my sleep-deprived brain was a bit slow on the uptake. What was that noise? Why do I think I’m in danger?
“Where is it?” I heard a man ask, his voice tight with anger. I listened for the answer, but it never came. I found myself wondering about the identity of his partner in the conversation. I hesitated to open my eyes for a peek. I didn’t want to intrude on their private conversation. It’s odd how the ears perceive noises when one’s eyes are closed. He sounds like he’s sitting next to me.
“I asked you a question, damn it!” Rough fingers gripped my wrist for the second time in one day.
“What the hell?” Instantly alert, I recoiled from the man whose dark, sinister eyes were inches from mine.
“Where is it?” he growled again, tightening his hold on me.
“Where is what?” I honestly had no idea what he was talking about.
“Don’t play games with me, lady!”
My mind was filling quickly with questions. Where is Kenny? And what about Todd—shouldn’t he be here with his agents, their weapons drawn? At the very least, Marley’s people should be rushing to my rescue. Even that bartender was missing in action. Isn’t anyone watching out for me?
“Help!” Talk about feeble. That one word emerged from my mouth as nothing but a whisper. Maybe that’s because I saw the tip of that Victorinox Swiss Army Skipper fishing knife glinting in the late afternoon sunlight, as George Delaney’s killer flashed it just below my nose. Oh, crap. He’s got yet another of those damn knives! I’m in big trouble now. How could we get this so wrong? Todd promised me I’d be safe. This doesn’t look like safe to me. What can I do?
“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way,” he declared, standing up suddenly. I had no choice but to hop to my feet, given that he yanked on my arm.
“Ouch!”
“I’m going to ask you one more time, and you’d better tell me the truth, because if you don’t, I’m going to slice you up into small pieces and feed you to the fish!”
As much as I didn’t want to think about the threat to my person, there was a part of me that knew he meant business. You have to get the hell out of here, Miz Scarlet, any way you can. Fight dirty. Be quick about it. Whatever you do, don’t fight fair, because you’re dealing with a man who has already murdered at least two people.
If only I had a weapon, I thought to myself. Oh, wait. I do!