Four of the Valkyries occupied chaises in the glass-enclosed Relaxation Room at the back of the ship — Coral, Piper, the redhead, and the leader. That meant one was missing. Possibly having a treatment.
I took a chair at the end of the line and pulled out a magazine I’d found in the miniature closet they called the ship’s library.
After saying she’d let me know how to find Constantine when she knew his schedule, Imka had re-polished one of my nails to have something to show the receptionist and even though the new polish was dry, I held the magazine as if it weren’t.
I held up the magazine, masking my face. But I could still see the row of feet. All wearing killer-high sandals, except Coral, whose cast-less foot was bare, though still holding that ballet on pointe shape of her habitual shoes.
“That’s the one who found the body,” Coral said in a stage whisper.
So much for invisibly eavesdropping.
Not to be upstaged, the leader said, with an ennui that left me surprised she could summon the energy to speak, “It would have been a lot more exciting if that old lady had been pushed off the rock wall or something like that.”
“Too much security there,” the redhead said matter-of-factly.
“What security?” the leader asked, snapped out of her role as Camille on her deathbed.
“There’s security all over. Well, not all over. There are gaps, but I heard they shoot up the women’s shorts,” the redhead said.
“No,” gasped Piper. Judging by their faces, she expressed shock for them all. Forget murder, this was serious.
“There you are. At last,” the leader said.
I peeked over the top of the magazine to see the fifth member of their group arrive.
“It wasn’t even all that wonderful,” whined the woman I would forevermore think of as The Other One. “A bunch of hot rocks. C’mon, let’s go. Maybe something will be interesting today.”
“Where are you going?” Coral demanded. “It’ll take me longer, but—”
“You can’t expect us to stay here all day. We’re going to the pool. Meeting the boys—”
I swallowed hard to prevent a sound from escaping at referring to their, um, mature male companions as boys.
“—to keep them out of trouble and keep them out of the casino. At least keep them from going without us.”
Three tittered appreciation for the leader’s witticism. Coral complained, “I can’t go to the pool. I can’t get this cast wet.”
She shrugged. “We’ll be back later for a steam.”
“Did you hear what I said? I can’t get the cast wet. I can’t go in the steam room.”
“Oh. See you later.”
“Tell Fabe that I—”
They’d gone. She remained.
After hearing two deep sighs, I slowly lowered the magazine I wasn’t reading.
Coral was staring — not at the oceanic panorama from the wall of windows, but at her nails.
“Hi,” I said brightly. Hey, go with the classics, right? “That’s quite the cast.” Skipping the fall seemed a good strategy. I’d bet she’d heard questions and comments about that from nearly everyone. “You’re the passenger who had to go to the hospital in Gibraltar, aren’t you? That must have been dramatic.”
She looked up. Intrigued?
“And scary,” I added.
“Terrifying,” she said with great emphasis. “To be alone and in such awful pain, surrounded by foreigners. I couldn’t understand a thing they said.”
Alone? Her husband went with her and they’d had cruise line liaisons. As for those foreigners, Gibraltar was held by the British. For Coral, maybe the Queen’s English was a foreign language.
Nope. Wasn’t saying any of that.
“How awful. It’s a miracle you rejoined the cruise.”
“I wasn’t letting them go on without me.” From that strident statement, she went limp. “No matter what it cost me.”
Them. Her friends? Or did she mean something else?
“It’s understandable you don’t want to miss out when you have a group that’s been traveling together for a long time.”
“For years and years. Might even be five by now. Except some,” she ended darkly.
“Oh?” I hoped that would start her talking. Instead, she humphed. Use your words, Coral. Remembering what Coral shouted at Piper before pushing her onto the windows, I added, “Sometimes someone new coming into a group changes the dynamic. Changes how everyone interacts.”
“That’s the truth. I mean, Fabe — Faber — has known Boyd forever and he fits in with the boys. Even though when they play golf and need a foursome, he makes five. But Fabe says a lot of times one of them can’t play or they want to invite business associates and they can do two foursomes or something like that. And he’s been good for their, like, networking, you know. New blood.”
“You don’t play golf?”
“God, no. None of us do. Except Piper. And isn’t that just wonderful when they ask her to fill a second foursome or something. Her and the boys.” Her sarcasm knew no subtlety. “She gets along great with them.”
“And with the girls…?” I lightly prodded.
“She acts like she’s been with us all along or is the most important or something. If I came into a new group I’d be, like, letting the others go first, you know? Humble.”
“At least she was there for you when you fell.”
“Fat lot of good she did. She stood there, staring.”
“How did you fall, by the way?”
“What do you mean how did I fall? I went backward.”
“Why? You said it wasn’t your shoes. What was it?”
She huffed impatiently. “It was the damn stairs. I don’t care how many times they say there was nothing wrong and they can show us all the pictures in the world. There was something there, under my foot. Something round and hard. It rolled when I stepped on it. And I went backward. Fabe’ll sue their asses.”
My murmuring of how awful that was opened the way for her monologue about her injuries and treatment, while I thought about other things.
Why would Leah trip Coral with her cane, then wait to threaten her until the night before Leah died. Leah could have thought she’d dealt with whatever problem Coral posed her with the fall.
But Leah’s comments to the person by the elevator sounded more like Leah was the threat to that person. Not the other way around.
So, why had she tripped Coral?
She drew a breath. I jumped in. “Do you or your friends know any of the people onboard this cruise?”
She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Of course, we do. We know each other at home, like I said.”
As gently as I could, I said, “Besides your group. Do any of you know anyone outside your group?”
She jerked an uninterested shoulder. “Nah.”
“But you’ve been on this cruise before, right? Some of the same crew and staff and officers have been on the ship.”
“Oh, them. I thought you meant like real people.”
If metaphorical tongue-biting drew blood I would have been covered in it. “Do you know any of them?”
“Nah.”
If she wasn’t bored by the topic, she was a great actress.
* * * *
“Hello, dear, found your earring?” the elderly man asked as I came down the stairs from the spa deck.
Earring? Oh. Right. That’s why he looked familiar. He’d been one of the searchers. I need an app to keep track of my fibs.
“I did. Thank you for your help and thank you for asking.”
“Very nice.”
He leaned in close for a look. But since I wasn’t wearing earrings I couldn’t imagine what he hoped to see. Then he stumbled, as if the ship had rocked. There’d been increasing movement interspersed with spells of calm. That had been a calm stretch.
He pretended to try to right himself by grabbing for me. Specifically, grabbing for the girls.
I’d been a public figure for a decade and a half. There’s a certain segment of the population who takes that literally, treating my figure as if it were public property.
As I dodged out of his path, someone came in from my left, interposing itself between us.
“Sir. How dare you,” scolded Petronella, more decisive than I’d ever heard her. “Shame on you.”
She grasped my elbow and, before the elderly man or I could react, she marched me out of grabbing distance.
I released my elbow, but continued beside her.
“I appreciate your motives, Petronella, though you do know I can take care of myself, don’t you?”
“If you could, you’d be in your cabin, resting. You look tired.” Petronella could sting after all. Maybe not a wasp, but edging toward a sweat bee.
“I don’t feel tired.”
“You look exhausted.” Ouch. She’d amped it up to honey bee. “You’ll rest in your cabin and I’ll stay there to be sure no one disturbs you.”
“I can’t rest with anyone else there. That’s why I have to have my own cabin,” I ad-libbed.
“Oh.” The newly decisive Petronella deflated. “Well, I’m taking you to your cabin.” She rallied to add, “And unplugging your phone.”