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“Claudia! I hoped I might find you up here!”
Claudia nearly collided with Stan as she turned to descend the staircase. When he got a good look at her face, his smile faded. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he told her. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she fibbed. She didn’t have the patience to politely thwart Stan’s repeated unwanted advances. If he hadn’t clued in by now that she wasn’t interested in him romantically, that was his problem.
“It isn’t nothing,” he insisted. “Look at you. You’re trembling.”
“I’m fine, thank you. Excuse me,” Claduia said, edging past Stan.
As she began to walk down the staircase, she suddenly let out a ragged gasp. Her face contorting in pain, she clenched her teeth and gripped the railing in the knick of time. An instant later, her leg gave out beneath her.
“Claudia!” Stan rushed to her aid. He helped her off the staircase with ease and wrapped a strong arm around her waist. “Put your arm around my shoulders and lean on me,” he instructed. “Do you think you can make it to that bench over there?”
She nodded, white hot pain shooting through her lower calf.
With Stan’s assistance, she made it to the bench. She collapsed onto it with a thud, grateful to be off her feet. She leaned down and rubbed her calf, noting how tender it felt. “I don’t know what that was. A really bad charlie horse, maybe? I must have done too many stairs.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t fall down the staircase,” Stan remarked.
“I am,” Claudia agreed.
He sat down on the bench across from her. “Can I ask you something? Please? And I want you to be honest - don’t worry about offending me.” He took a deep breath. “Have you been avoiding me?”
Inwardly, Claudia groaned. Having an uncomfortable conversation with Stan was the last thing she wanted to do. But she was kind of trapped, at least until the painful cramp in her shin subsided. She decided to honor his request and be perfectly, brutally honest.
“To tell you the truth, I was a little concerned you might be getting the wrong idea,” Claudia told Stan with an apologetic smile. “Sometimes it’s easy to mistake friendliness for flirtation, you know? Maybe it’s my fault...”
Stan shook his head. “No, I’m sure I’m the one who’s to blame. I think you’re a very nice woman, and you’re certainly very pretty. But I know you have a boyfriend,” he assured her. “I...I suppose I was entertaining thoughts of what could have been in, you know...an alternate universe.”
Claudia stared at him, unsure of how to respond.
“Don’t think I’m some creepy weirdo,” Stan said quickly. “I’m not, I promise. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention. I just...I suppose I let my imagination get carried away sometimes because it’s kind of all I have, you know?”
Claudia felt a pang of sympathy. Stan’s loneliness was palpable.
“Stan, you only get one life,” she said quietly. “I think maybe it’s time you start living yours.”
He nodded in agreement. “That’s what I want, but it’s complicated.”
“I know there are no easy answers when it comes to your father. But when you get home, reach out for help,” Claudia suggested. “Contact a social worker. He or she might be able to point you to resources in your city that you didn’t even know existed.”
“You’re an eternal optimist, aren’t you?” Stan remarked with a sad, distant smile. His eyes were glassy. What she was saying seemed to have resonated with him on a very deep, personal level. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking.
“Am I being naive?” Claudia asked.
“Maybe a little, but I appreciate that you’re trying to help. Speaking of help, do you want me to help you back to your cabin?” Stan offered. “Or I can take you to a restaurant if you’re more comfortable with that,” he added quickly.
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to sit a while,” Claudia told him. “But don’t feel that you have to babysit me. I hear the buffet today is going to be extra special...I think it’s surf and turf? You don’t want to miss out on that. I’ll text Scott to come get me.”
Stan didn’t protest as Claudia sent the text, but he didn’t get up to leave either. “I don’t mind keeping you company while you wait for your boyfriend to get here. It might take him a while - the elevators are always congested at dinnertime. The novelty of cruise food wears off when you cruise as often as my father and I do. Besides, it’s nice sitting here with you...as long as you don’t mind, that is.”
“Speaking of your father, where is he?”
“Sleeping.”
Claudia frowned. “It’s such a shame. He pays so much money to go on cruises and then sleeps his days away? What a waste. Although I suppose it’s nice for you to have some time to yourself.”
“It is,” Stan confirmed. “It definitely is.”
The two were silent for a moment.
“So what was it that had you so upset when I first came up here?” Stan asked curiously. “You looked very concerned. What caused that? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“You see that sandal?” Claudia asked, pointing.
“Yes?”
“It belongs to the guy that was murdered on the ship.”
Stan’s eyes widened. “Really? How can you possibly know that? We’re on a Caribbean cruise. Every fellow on this ship has at least one pair of sandals. It could belong to anyone.”
“I’m positive the sandal is his,” Claudia insisted. “That’s the brand Chad Kemp wore. It’s expensive - I know because my sister is obsessed with that brand. Anyway, I doubt many other men here will have that same pair of sandals in the same color and size. It would be too coincidental, you know?”
“Ah, I see. I’m not big on brand names, myself. I never could understand the appeal of paying a small fortune to be a walking billboard for a company,” Stan explained. “But I suppose what you’re saying makes sense. You’re a clever woman, Claudia.”
“Say that again?”
“You’re a clever woman, Claudia.” He chuckled and gave her a teasing look as he dabbed perspiration from his forehead. “Are you fishing for compliments now?”
“No...the other part you said. The bit about being a walking billboard.” Claudia’s mind was racing as she tried to piece things together. “Chad wore designer everything from head to toe. He was, like you said, basically a human billboard. One look at him and it was obvious he was wealthy...or at least it looked like he was.”
“What are you suggesting?” Stan asked.
“I think Chad was a walking target,” Claudia explained excitedly. “A target for a thief. I think either someone robbed him and it went sideways, or he caught someone in the act and had to be silenced before he told on them.”
Stan looked as though he was suffering in the hot sun. “You might be right, but this is a gigantic cruise ship full of thousands of people. Finding the thief is like finding a needle in a haystack - it’s next to impossible.”
“No, it isn’t,” Claudia told him triumphantly. “I already know who the thief is. It’s Rosa. She worked in housekeeping and is an admitted thief. It makes perfect sense that she would have taken one look at Chad’s expensive attire and targeted him!”
