Killing in the Caribbean

by Jennifer Fischetto

  "They look chummy," he said to me with a smirk.

  "Long-distance relationship."

  He raised his brows and whistled. Up close I saw tiny lines around his eyes, suggesting he was older than I'd first guessed or he'd spent a considerable amount of time in the sun. I was betting on the latter.

  "So those things actually work?" he asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder. "Absolutely."

  They were no longer in each other's arms but walking toward the bar.

  "I'm Barclay Murdock," the man beside me said.

  When I looked back, he had extended his hand.

  I placed my palm against his warm one and shook. "Zibby Foster."

  "Zibby? That's an interesting name."

  I considered saying that I'd been named Elizabeth after my grandmother and a great-aunt and there were two other cousins named the same so I needed variety, but the purpose of this cool nickname had nothing to do with standing out and everything to do with staying under the radar from my life back home.

  "Are you and your friend on vacation, Zibby?" he asked.

  "No, actually we work for Voyage Cruise Line. We just pulled into port and have some free time."

  "You work on a cruise?" asked the Boho woman.

  Apparently, they had quieted enough to hear my conversation with Barclay.

  "Yes."

  The others turned my way now too, and Cady sat on the stool on my other side.

  "What do you guys do?" asked the other woman. Her rich raven hair was pulled back into a sleek, low ponytail. It displayed her high cheekbones and carat-sized studded diamond earrings.

  "She's a dancer and instructor, and I'm a singer. We're part of the cast for the shows and musicals," Cady said.

  "That's fascinating," said the diamond-studded woman. "You'll have to tell me all about it."

  We went around with introductions. The women were Mimi with the fringe and Whitney with the diamonds. There was a whopper of a solitaire diamond engagement ring on Whitney's left hand, and she sat very close to dark-haired Finley, who had a JFK vibe to him, with a prominent nose and strong jawline.

  The last man was Greer, blond and very tan. He would've given off a surfer feel in beige shorts and a pale green shirt if it hadn't been for his black, fingerless gloves that were normally worn while driving or cycling and not drinking in a bar. He was good-looking though, with that easy-breezy, sun swept, all-American look and biceps that rivaled Aiden's.

  Speaking of Cady's hottie, he gave me a warm welcome, and soon we each had a shot of rum, on the house, to celebrate Barbados.

  "Wait," Barclay said. "You're a singer and your name is Cady? Short for Cadence, as in rhythm?"

  Cady grinned. "Yes. My mother says that every time she'd put on music when she was pregnant with me, I'd kick. A lot. She figured I'd be a dancer or a singer. She chose correctly."

  I'd never heard that story before. It made me remember we barely knew each other.

  "So are you all on vacation?" I asked Barclay and the others.

  They each nodded, and Finley said, "It's an informal class reunion. We went to college together and hadn't seen one another in a while."

  "Oh, that sounds like fun," Cady said.

  Greer scoffed while bringing his glass to his lips. Before taking a sip, he mumbled, "Yeah, it's been a blast."

  No one else seemed to notice his foul mood, so I chalked it up to a one-off, or maybe I had misinterpreted the attitude.

  "Which school did you go to?" I asked. I wasn't familiar with colleges outside of New York. I simply wanted to make sure they weren't somehow connected to my old life. The whole reason I was working on a cruise. It would definitely be a small world if they were.

  "Northwestern University," said Whitney. "In Illinois."

  "Is that where you all are from?" I asked.

  "Yes." Her smile beamed as if she was proud of her home state. I knew the feeling. I was born and raised in Queens and was a Manhattan girl at heart.

  "How about you two? You sound American," Greer said.

  "Yes, I'm from Massachusetts," I said, continuing the lie I'd told Cady and everyone on the ship when I first started.

  "And I was once Little Miss Tampa," Cady said with a chuckle. "I was eight and won third place."

  "You were robbed then," Aiden said with a wink. "You definitely deserved first."

  They cooed at each other, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. They were sweet—almost sickeningly so.

  "We're getting ready to have lunch and then do some more sightseeing. You two should join us," Barclay said.

  I wasn't sure if he was inviting us to join them for lunch, to explore the island with them, or both, but I was definitely eager for the first. I was famished, and it would be great to hang with people so I didn't get stuck talking to myself while Cady and Aiden made googly eyes together all day. Dining alone in public always made me feel lonely.

  I glanced to Cady, who managed to nod in my direction before returning her attention to Aiden.

  "We'd love to," I said and slid off the stool.

  Barclay returned to his seat at the far head of the table. Greer sat across from him closest to the bar. Mimi was to Greer's right and Whitney then Finley were to Barclay's left. Which left one entire side of the combined tables and three chairs empty.

  Barclay pushed out the first chair perpendicular from him, and I took it with a grin. He seemed like a super friendly guy, and from the way Whitney looked at Finley and Mimi caressed Greer's hand, Barclay was the fifth wheel. He probably longed for someone to talk to.

  Cady soon joined us, sitting beside me, and Aiden passed out menus. It listed an array of mostly fried items, from fish cakes to macaroni pie to something called cutters, which Aiden explained were sandwiches on salt bread.

  "It's not actually salty, just not sweet like a lot of other breads on the island," Aiden said with a wink when Cady asked about it.

  While the others already seemed accustomed to Barbados cuisine, Cady and I couldn't decide what to try. Aiden said he'd make us a sampling of several items and mumbled how it may take him a few minutes, seeing how he didn't have a cook except weekend nights.

  We also ordered a round of drinks. Finley and Greer each ordered Banks beers.

  Barclay said, "my usual," which made his friends frown.

  "This is our second time here," Finley said. "How does he already know your usual? I don't even know it."

  Whitney touched Finley's arm, and the two of them laughed.

  Barclay folded his arms across his chest and looked very confident. "He knows."

  Aiden nodded and said, "And for the ladies?"

  "Something with the famous Barbados rum in it," I said.

  He smiled and asked, "How about an Ocean Grille Rum Punch?"

  "What's in that?" Mimi the fringe woman asked.

  "One of sour, two of sweet, three of strong, four of weak," Aiden said and received seven blank stares. He softly laughed. "It's part of a rhyme on how to make the drink. Normally it's rum, lime juice, sugar, and water, but I like to replace the water and sugar with pineapple juice and a splash of grenadine."

  I widened my eyes. That sounded heavenly. "Oh yes, please."

  Cady, Mimi, and Whitney all wanted the same.

  "How long is your vacation for?" I asked when Aiden walked off.

  "We've been here four days so far and leave the day after tomorrow," Whitney said. "When does your ship leave?"

  "The day after tomorrow," Cady said.

  "Then you'll have to join us for sightseeing," Barclay said to us and then asked his friends, "Where shall we go next?"

  Finley said, "We've already been to St. Nicholas Abbey, walked the boardwalk, went to Dover Beach, ate at Bliss Café and Oistin's Fish Fry—"

  "They had the best fish," Greer said, interrupting his friend. He grinned at whatever memories were held in his brain. I must've heard him wrong earlier. He wasn't coming across as angry now.

  "I want to go shopping,"
Mimi said. "I need to get some souvenirs for my mother."

  "Me too," said Whitney, who then caressed Finley's hand on top of the table. "We promised your mom we'd bring back something for your niece too."

  Finley nodded and smiled. "My niece is four. She cried when she learned she couldn't get on a plane and come to the beach with us."

  Everyone laughed as if it was the funniest story ever told. I wasn't sure why they thought it was hilarious. Maybe I needed to know the kid to understand.

  "Shopping it is then. But don't forget I booked us a tour of Harrison's Cave tomorrow as well," Barclay said then looked to Cady and me. "You'll join us, right? I'll call and have them reserve two more seats."

  "You don't have to do that," I said with a small degree of panic in my voice. It wasn't that I didn't want to see the cave. I'd googled Barbados at the end of our last port, and Harrison's was one of those must-see tourist attractions, but I wasn't sure about spending the day with a group of strangers. This lunch was fine. We'd been likely to eat here anyway.

  "It's not a big deal. I'm just adding two more spots. If something comes up and you can't make it, it'll be fine," he said.

  That made me unclench my body and lower my shoulders.

  Barclay pulled out his phone and stood up. "I'll be right back."

  He walked off as Cady touched my hand. I turned to her, and she leaned in. "Do you want to hang with them?"

  "I don't know. It's kinda weird, but I don't want to spend these three days sitting in here while you flirt with your dreamboat."

  My words must've caught her off guard because she chuckled loud and then whispered, "I can't stay here all day. He needs to work, and I do want to see Barbados. It's the Caribbean!"

  That was music to my ears, and enjoying the island with others, strangers or not, wasn't the worst. That would be not seeing anything at all.

  While Barclay was the only single guy at the table, I'd noticed that I hadn't stuttered or acted foolish. His tan looked a little more fake-orange than sun-kissed golden, but he had a charming smile and gorgeous hazel eyes. He didn't make my stomach squirm, like Dr. Bishop did, so this meant no pressure while touring a cave.

  "It could be fun," I said. "Let's do it."

  "Great." Cady leaned in even closer. "You do know you'll be going back to the ship by yourself tonight, right?"

  "I figured as much."

  Aiden arrived with a tray of drinks—mugs of light amber beers for Finley and Greer, a tumbler with clear liquid and ice for Barclay, and four curved glasses with straws and wedges of pineapple for us women. The beverage itself had layers of colors, with red on the bottom, orange in the middle, and yellow on top. They looked like captured sunsets. Definitely too pretty to drink.

  I took out my phone and snapped two photos. Before leaving the ship, I'd told myself just one alcoholic beverage, and technically the shot had been that limit, but I couldn't resist. Besides, I didn't want to insult Aiden and his fabulous new business. I clinked my glass against Cady's, took a sip of the cold pineapple and lime creation, and smiled wide. Yes, this was the good life.

  "I'll be right back," I said and walked to the area marked restroom. There was only one door, so I turned the knob and pushed it open. It was a tiny, all-white space, and Barclay stood in front of the sink holding some electronic-looking device to his finger.

  Laid open on the side of the sink was a small pouch, and inside it was a syringe and a small bottle. Seeing the needle, my reflexes jerked, my brain screamed get out, and I looked anywhere but in his eyes.

  "Oh, sorry." I stepped back and quickly shut the door, feeling foolish and guilty, as if I'd done something wrong.

  Flustered, I stared at the door as if I suddenly possessed X-ray vision and could see through the wooden structure. Was he in there shooting up?

  Maybe hanging with them wasn't a good idea after all. What had we gotten ourselves into?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Before I made it back to my seat, Barclay whipped out of the bathroom, the small pouch in hand, and wrapped his fingers around my upper arm. "I hope I didn't shock you. I was testing my blood sugar levels. I wasn't getting high. I'm diabetic."

  Oh, that electronic-looking device now made sense. My face warmed, and I felt foolish for not having figured that out.

  "I'm sorry," I said and pretended I hadn't thought he was a crackhead or something.

  He let go of me and shoved the pouch into a pocket on the thigh of his cargo shorts. "I was diagnosed right after college. I'm used to it now. I'm also old school. I use vials of insulin and needles rather than FlexPens, and I forget it can freak others out."

  It sounded like I wasn't the first person to jump to the wrong conclusions.

  "Really, you don't have to explain. I should've knocked before opening the bathroom door." I chuckled to break the awkwardness.

  "Well, it's all yours now." Instead of walking away, he stepped closer to me. "Since everyone else we're with is coupled up, how about we hang out later?"

  I assumed he meant just the two of us. "Why would we do that?" I asked.

  He winked and said, "To get to know one another."

  It was the way his gaze traveled over my body that made me think he wanted to get to know me in a horizontal position, and I was not interested.

  "Um"—I pointed to the bathroom—"I need to use that."

  "Of course. See you back at the table." He stared into my eyes and didn't look away until I nodded in agreement.

  I practically ran into the room and pushed the button in the knob to lock the door. I leaned against it for a moment to rehash what had just happened. I was used to flirting and sexual innuendos. A woman couldn't walk down a New York street without being catcalled at some point in her life. I wasn't sure how comfortable I felt about continuing lunch with him, and especially sightseeing tomorrow. It would all depend on how he behaved during our meal.

  When I stepped back into the dining room, he wasn't at the table. I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to my seat, but Cady wasn't there either, so I took her spot instead. She could scoot down a chair, next to Greer, when she returned.

  I grabbed my drink, took a long sip, and then glanced around.

  Greer and Mimi were whispering to each other, and Whitney was invested in something on her phone. Cady was back at the bar, being giggly with Aiden, who was pouring a beer on tap. Where was…

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed quick flashes of color and movement. I glanced over, and it was Barclay and Finley. They stood off to the side of the bar, facing each other, and they did not look happy. Barclay was wildly gesturing with his hands. Finley had his stuffed into the pockets of his tailored shorts, and despite his shoulders being hunched up and forward, bringing them closer to his ears, he still managed to stand with a straight back. There was something regal with how he carried himself.

  I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it looked intense. Barclay's face was turning pink and then deepened until it was almost red. Everything had seemed fine a minute ago. What had happened?

  Something about this group fascinated me. Maybe it was five long-time friends remaining close enough to take a vacation together more than a decade after graduating college. I didn't have that. Back home, my longest friendship, the one from grade school on up, had gotten married and had kids seven years ago. We hadn't spoken in almost as long. We'd tried keeping in touch at first, but hanging out with people who had kids when you didn't waned over time. She'd met new mom friends, and I'd been cast aside. It had been fine at the time. I'd focused on my career, but it had stunk when I'd found the time to go to a movie or a bar and the closest gal pal in my life had been my brother Timmy.

  Within seconds, the men separated, and the next time I looked over, both were back at the table. Finley kissed Whitney's cheek before sitting down, and Barclay stood by Greer and Mimi. He glanced at me once and did a soft double take when he realized I'd moved down a place setting.

  Cady gave me the same look when she retu
rned with Aiden behind her.

  I patted the seat closer to Greer. I didn't want her to have to suffer in case Barclay tried hitting on her too.

  Aiden passed out everyone's individual lunch plates and set a platter between Cady and me and then a lunch-sized plate for each of us. He pointed to the items on the platter as he described them.

  "That is macaroni pie. It's like your macaroni and cheese but richer."

  It looked like heaven with layers and layers of ziti pasta sandwiched together with a thick cheese sauce. The top of it had browned to a nice dark golden color.

  "Those are fish cakes and then the cutters, which have fresh baked ham inside. They're good with hot sauce." He pulled a bottle of the red vinegary stuff out of an apron pocket.

  There were two cutters, which were the size of my hand. I took one, placed half of the other two items onto my plate, and bit into a fish cake first. They weren't flat and round like the fish cakes in the States. These resembled hush puppies, deep-fried and all flaky fish on the inside. No filler.

  "Enjoy," Aiden said and went to tend to other customers.

  I ignored everyone and everything around me for a full three minutes. That was how little time it took for me to take a bite of the three items crowding my plate. The macaroni pie was soft yet firm, and the cheese sauce was as decadent as Aiden had suggested. The cutter was not too salty, and the heat from the hot sauce made the warm, fresh roll and thick slab of ham extra delicious. I loved spicy food.

  "Are you okay?" Cady asked with a hint of laughter in her voice.

  I realized my eyes were shut, and when I opened them, everyone at the table was staring at me. That familiar flush of embarrassment climbed up my neck and into my cheeks. Each of them smiled, but it did nothing to alleviate my humiliation.

  "That good, huh?" Barclay asked.

  "I like food."

  A round of laughter circled the table, and I relaxed some. Timmy and his friends used to laugh at how animated I became when I ate, so this wasn't uncommon. I usually didn't lose myself in a group of strangers though.

  "How do you stay so thin?" Mimi asked. Envy wrinkled her brow.