With the movement of the ship, I slept and woke. Not sure when I dreamed, when I remembered, when I imagined.
Leah pointing her cane at the German woman.
Anya crying in the corridor.
The lyrics to The Fields of Athenry.
Maya, no longer teary, on the attack at the hot tub. Ralph, ever protective of her.
Coral pushing Piper into the windows and Imka’s hold on Piper.
T-bar and errand chase sonar. You and me theme and Cheese Mary now.
Aunt Kit saying, Stop making words. Say the sounds. Let go of the words and say the sounds over and over.
Wardham coming out of Odette’s room.
The Valkyries in formation sweeping into the spa.
The German woman sneering at Leah.
The vitriol of Leah’s reviewer persona.
Pyorte’s hunted expression.
The voices from the Atrium bar.
Leah, cane overhead, as if to strike Badar.
I woke with a start, thinking it was the middle of the night.
The clock said otherwise. I stumbled toward the curtains, opening them to milky light. The ocean didn’t look as rough as last night. The ship felt calmer than during the night, too.
But no calm waters ahead for Badar.
He was out of time. When we arrived in the Bahamas in a few hours, he’d be turned over to the authorities as the only suspect.
* * * *
After room service breakfast, I was on my balcony, taking a break from looking — again — at the notes by watching the still active ocean when my cell phone rang. I hadn’t heard the sound since we left Barcelona.
Aunt Kit.
“Your mother called me—”
“Mom? Why did she call you? Is everything okay?”
She snorted. “Everything’s fine. She called me because she doesn’t want you to pay roaming charges, even though I’ve told her more than once how much money you have.”
“You don’t care about roaming charges?”
“I wouldn’t care about them under these circumstances even if you were a pauper. I certainly don’t now. Besides, my motivation is stronger than your mother’s. She is merely over the moon that you wrote to them about possibly moving back to their part of the country—” The internet must have connected at some point and sent my pending emails. “—while I want to hear everything about this murder and your investigation.”
“My investigation? That’s not—”
“No false modesty. Besides, better to be prepared. If word gets out the author of Abandon All solved a murder…”
I groaned.
“Never mind that now, tell me everything.”
“First, I have to tell you it’s too late.”
“What do you mean it’s too late?”
“We’re stopping in the Bahamas today. The ship’s Chief Security Officer will hand over a young crew member as the only suspect and I don’t think they’ll investigate anymore.”
“Is this young crew member innocent?”
“Not necessarily. But there are several other people with as much evidence against them as there is against him. I’m afraid he’s convenient.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I am,” I realized. “I think I expected better of Edgars, the Chief Security Officer.”
“Hmm. Let’s get back to telling me everything.”
I did.
At the end, I added, “I’ve been trying to treat it the way we would in a session at the brownstone. Thinking my way logically through and—”
“What’s bothering you?” she interrupted.
“You mean other than a woman being murdered and me finding the body and having a sweet young woman putting all her faith in my getting her boyfriend off when he’s turned over to the authorities today?”
“Yes, other than that. There’s something gnawing at you. What?”
Saying nothing was a waste of time. She was almost always right about these things.
“It doesn’t make any sense—”
“Good. In fact, excellent. What is it?”
“Early on, I overhead some people talking from another deck and with the wind and me drifting asleep, the last part made no sense. Like nonsense syllables. But I can’t get them out of my head. See, I told you it doesn’t make sense.”
“What are the syllables?”
“T-bar and errand chase sonar. You and me theme and cheese Mary now.” My immediate recall surprised me. “But as I said, it’s nonsense.”
“The words you created from the sounds make no sense. Stop making words. Say the sounds. Let go of the words and say the sounds over and over. Then see—”
A crisp knock sounded at my door. Not Eristo’s polite restraint.
“Someone’s at the door, Kit.”
“Okay. Call me when you can, never mind the roaming charges. And plan a good long talk about this after. Are you taking notes?”
More knocking.
“I haven’t— I have to go, Kit.” Before the knocker became even more insistent. “I’ll call.”
I fumbled to turn off my phone as I opened the door to Catherine.