Sammy Keyes and the Killer Cruise

by Wendelin Van Draanen

  I whip around, and sure enough, there’s Noah.

  I try to cover up by going, “Oh, hey! Any news?” But there are still papers with Kensington names all around the table, and it doesn’t take long for him to pick one up.

  “No,” he says, studying the paper. “But I’ll have you know that at no time was I in the library with a rope.” He places the paper down slowly and says, “Glad to see you enjoying your birthday, Sammy,” then gives a little nod and leaves.

  “Whoa!” Marko says when he’s gone. “Busted!”

  “How embarrassing,” Marissa whispers.

  Darren shrugs. “I thought he took it quite well.”

  Marko nods. “Played it close to the vest, that’s for sure.”

  And that was exactly it about the Kensingtons. They all seemed to play it close to the vest. It wasn’t just that they weren’t going to show you their cards—they were also going to try to make you believe they were holding high cards instead of low.

  Or low instead of high.

  Or whatever.

  Except for Kip. He’d kind of abandoned the whole Kensington code of honor. He’d even punched his cousin in the nose.

  In public!

  So maybe JT was right. Maybe being adopted and steeped in Kensington ways couldn’t actually make you one.

  Blood was obviously thicker than ink.

  Except …

  Except Kip sure seemed to love his grandfather. And grandmother. Which was more than I could say about any of the blood Kensingtons. From what I’d seen, they were more interested in talking to lawyers and scouring the Internet for legal clues than they were in looking for clues about where Kate might be.

  Anyway, I couldn’t help thinking about it a little, but I tried not to think about it a lot.

  It was my birthday!

  I’d escaped thirteen!

  “So what now?” Darren asks. Then he checks his watch and goes, “Wow. How did it get to be eleven?”

  My eyes pop. “It’s eleven?”

  Marko nods. “Time flies when you’re solving crime.”

  “Okay,” Marissa says, looking at him. “That was just corny.”

  “Get used to harvesting,” Darren tells her, “because there’s always an abundance of corn when you’re hanging with Marko.”

  “Hey!” Marko says, and gives a little pout. Then he eyes the board. “It looks like Sherlock Holmes could have walked the halls of this mansion, don’t you think? Can’t you just see him and Watson going through the secret passageways with Gladstone sniffing the way?”

  “I thought the dog’s name was Toby,” Darren says.

  One of Marko’s eyebrows stretches up, the other one angles down. “I believe, my dear Darren, that Sherlock co-opted any available bloodhound. The name was irrelevant.”

  “Irrelevant? If the dog helped solve the crime, how can its name be irrelevant?”

  But Marissa’s not a bit interested in Sherlock Holmes’ dog. She’s moved on, checking out her Cruzer Calendar, going, “Karaoke’s starting right now in the Aqua Lounge on Deck 5.”

  Darren and Marko both make like they’re choking.

  Or barfing.

  Or choking on barf?

  Whatever, it’s definitely rock ’n’ roll.

  “It’s fun, you goons,” Marissa says. “Not all of us get to be onstage in real life, you know.”

  Darren eyes the Cruzer. “What else is there?”

  “Oh!” she cries. “Ice sculpture and a chocolate fountain are happening right now on the promenade level, aft!”

  That’s basically right above us, so we go up the swoopy stairs to Deck 5, where hordes of people are already waiting in the chocolate fountain line.

  “Uh, I don’t need chocolate that bad,” I tell them.

  “Me, neither,” Marko says. “But the ice sculpture’s cool.”

  It’s in the shape of a big sea serpent, glistening away on a long table near the chocolate fountain mob, and it is cool, but after watching ice glisten and chocolate flow for a few minutes, I finally just say, “What I’d really like to do is message Casey and then maybe raid the buffet again. Is that okay?”

  Darren says, “Let’s do it!” and before you know it, we’re up on Deck 8, whooshing into the Lido Library.

  The place is deserted except for one person.

  The Puzzle Lady.

  This time she gives me a little smile and says, “You just missed your friend.”

  “My friend?”

  “The African American boy? He was just here.”

  Now, something about her makes me feel … uneasy. I mean, obviously she’s a snoop. But also, what sort of person pays a bunch of money for a cruise to sit by herself in a library all day, doing a puzzle?

  You can do that for free at home!

  She’s being friendly, though, and I feel kind of bad for thinking right away that she’s a crazy, nosy puzzle lady, so I smile back and say, “Thanks,” and get on a computer across the room from her.

  Luckily, Casey’s still awake and at his computer, so I have an awesome time messaging back and forth with him. And I guess I was typing away a lot longer than I knew, because after what seems like only five minutes, Darren taps me on the shoulder and says, “The birthday pumpkin appears in ten minutes.”

  “Really?” I check the time, and sure enough, it’s almost midnight.

  So I send Casey a bunch of hugs and kisses, and sign off. And when I stand up, I see that the Puzzle Lady is gone and sitting in her place is Marko.

  With a rope.

  “Where’d you get that?” I ask, but he just gives me a wicked grin and says, “Marissa claims to know where the cruise director sleeps. I thought we’d have a little fun.”

  I bust up, and really, I think it’s a brilliant idea—a funny way to maybe smooth things over. So I scrawl a note that says, You left this in the library! and before you know it, we’re up on Deck 10, acting stupidly suspicious as we tiptoe down the hallway and plant the rope in front of Noah’s door.

  Then we knock and race out of there, giggling like a pack of kids as we escape up a flight of stairs to the Schooner Buffet.

  “That was awesome!” I pant as we plop into seats at a window table, because something about it seemed really, you know, clandestine to me. Even though it would be totally obvious that we were the ones who put it there.

  Anyway, we wind up getting a midnight snack, and then we go back to Dessert Island for big wedges of cheesecake. Marko tries to light a toothpick on fire for a candle, and even though it doesn’t work very well, he jabs the smoking stick in my cheesecake, and they all sing “Happy Birthday.”

  Which, let me tell you, sounded great in Troublemaker harmony.

  “Big day tomorrow,” Darren says after we’ve practically licked our plates. “Off the ship and onto foreign soil.”

  “Cabo San Lucas, Mexico,” Marko says, like he’s announcing a fighter getting into the ring.

  “So … what do we do?” I ask, ’cause really, I haven’t given thought to any of it.

  Instead of answering, Darren and Marko both look at Marissa like, Well?

  “Oh!” Marissa clears her throat. “Well, we get up early, eat, disembark, walk or catch a tour bus or do an excursion—”

  “An excursion?” I ask.

  “You know—like ATVing through the backcountry or zip lining or swimming with dolphins. We just have to be back on board by five o’clock or whatever time they tell us we’re set to sail.”

  The rest of us kind of shrug like, Sounds good.

  She hesitates, then says, “You have to sign up for excursions ahead of time, though. And they’re expensive.”

  Darren’s looking like he’s not sure what to do, so I tell him, “I’m fine with just walking around. I’ve never been on ‘foreign soil’ before, so I don’t need to tear it up with an ATV.”

  Marko gives Darren an accusing look. “Dude, what happened to your planning skills? I totally wanted to swim with dolphins.”

  “
The water’s right there,” Darren says, pointing out the window.

  I look at the two of them, and it hits me that Darren and Marko have made it through their entire lives together. They’re friends who get each other and can joke and act stupid and not worry about being judged. And, I don’t know, something about that sort of chokes me up. I don’t want Marissa to move to Ohio. I want her to stay and be my friend so we can grow up and be the girl version of Darren and Marko.

  Finally, I take a deep breath and tell them, “This has been a really great birthday.”

  Darren scratches the side of his jaw. “My present was the cruise, but I’m feeling like I should have bought you something tangible.”

  “Yeah, where’s my pony?” I demand.

  He laughs, and then Marko says, “Dude, you could at least have gotten her a dolphin, come on.”

  “My present’s still at the store,” Marissa tells me, “ ’cause you wouldn’t buy anything today!”

  “And my present is my presence,” Marko says with a little head bow. “Unparalleled by anything you’ll find on this ship.”

  “Hello,” Marissa says. “Where’s the corn husker?” And Darren slaps five on her.

  But I still want to make my point. So I tell them, “What I’m trying to say is that this has been the best birthday, and there hasn’t been a single bow or any wrapping paper.” I give a little shrug. “Thank you.”

  After that, we head back to our rooms, where Darren gives me a one-armed hug good night, and Marko smothers me with both arms and says, “You’re an awesome kid.”

  “And you’re a beast!” I laugh, ’cause I’m suffocating.

  “The Beast from Corn Alley,” Darren announces, and then they shove each other and disappear inside their cabin.

  “They remind me of Billy and Casey,” Marissa whispers as she opens our door.

  “They do, huh?” I laugh.

  And I’m still laughing as we walk into our cabin.

  And then I see what’s on my bed.

  SIXTEEN

  Marissa and I stand stock-still, staring at the rope on my bed, until finally Marissa whispers, “That is very creepy.”

  Which it is. Not only because it means that Noah had been in our room, but also because the rope is now tied into a noose.

  “So he can let himself in and out of anybody’s room?” I whisper back.

  “He’s the cruise director,” Marissa whispers. “I’m sure he has access to everything. And I don’t think the stewards work this late.” Then she adds, “Maybe there’s a note? We left him one.”

  So we inch over to my bed like it has a coiled rattler on it and check for a note.

  Nothing.

  “Maybe he thinks this is funny?” I say.

  Marissa nods. “Like we thought playing Kensington Clue was funny?”

  But even looking at it from that angle, the noose on my bed does not seem funny.

  It seems creepy.

  Like a threat.

  “Do you think Kate’s turned up?” I ask.

  Marissa shakes her head. “Kip would have told us, don’t you think?”

  I shrug, ’cause the last time we saw Kip, he was running off after punching JT’s lights out. Who knew if he’d bother to tell us. Or if Noah would. Especially not after he’d caught us playing Kensington Clue.

  Marissa takes a deep breath. “I’m starting to think that maybe Kip’s right.”

  “About?”

  “About his grandmother and foul play.”

  “Foul play?”

  She looks at me. “That’s what they call it, right?”

  I grab the rope and head for the door. “Yeah. I guess. I just haven’t ever heard anybody actually say it. It seems so, you know, Agatha Christie.”

  Marissa chases after me, saying, “Wait! Where are you going?”

  Where I’m going is next door to tell Darren, but there’s a little hitch in my brain stopping me from saying so. “I’m gonna tell my dad” is not something I’ve ever said or even thought, and it flashes through my mind that a) it’s childish, and b) it’s … well, it’s weird to even be having the whole tell-my-dad thing cross my mind.

  So instead, I just beat on his door.

  “Oh, good,” Marissa gasps. “I thought you were going to storm the castle again.”

  I knew she meant beat down Noah’s door, because I’ve got a kinda bad reputation with her for doing stuff like that. “The last person I want to see right now is Noah Marlowe.”

  The door flies open, and there’s Marko, holding a toothbrush. “What’s up?”

  I dangle the noose, and his eyebrows go for a big stretch as he moves aside to let us in. “Dude!” he calls, tapping on the bathroom door. “Be decent when you come out.”

  “What?”

  “Your offspring is here!” he calls, louder. “She brought a noose.”

  We hear another “What?” but then the bathroom door flies open, and there’s Darren, also holding a toothbrush. “Everything okay?” he asks, then sees the noose.

  “It was on my bed,” I tell him.

  He takes it from me. “Not cool.”

  “So, bro,” Marko says, “what’s our course of action?”

  “Kick his ass?” Darren says, and he’s looking really ticked off.

  I try to bring it down a notch. “Look, he obviously didn’t like our joke. And we obviously don’t like his.”

  “I don’t care who you are or what your passkey allows you to do, you don’t just let yourself into the room of two young girls! And after midnight?”

  “It was Noah! After midnight! With a key!” Marko cries, and when we all scowl at him, he looks kinda sheepish and goes, “Sorry.”

  I nod. “Or maybe someone else saw us put the rope in front of Noah’s door.”

  “You think someone’s been spying on us?” Marissa gasps.

  Darren kinda shakes his head. “Who would be spying on us?”

  “Kensingtons!” Marissa and I cry together. Then Marissa adds, “And since Kip knows what room Sammy and I are in, probably all of them do!”

  “Like they would care?” Darren asks, and Marko goes, “Why would Kip tell anybody? Isn’t he mad at the rest of them?”

  But then something hits me. “What if JT’s parents did see us at the library?”

  Marissa’s eyes get all big and she jumps in with, “They could’ve bribed someone to let them into our room!”

  “Girls! Girls!” Darren says. “You are really letting your imaginations run wild.”

  I give him a scowl, because how many times have I heard that in my life? And now from him?

  But then something else hits me. “Wait a minute,” I say, with a finger in the air, and what’s weird is, they all do wait a minute. And stare at me. Which is kinda distracting. Especially since my wait-a-minute thought is actually kinda mind-boggling.

  “Well?” Marissa finally asks.

  I take a deep breath. “According to the way we’re registered, I’m supposed to be in this room with Darren, and Marko is supposed to be in that room with Marissa.”

  “Oh. Right,” they kind of mumble.

  And then we all stand there, thinking.

  “So maybe he knows I’m the instigator,” Marko says. “Maybe it wasn’t meant for the girls at all.”

  As we mentally chew on that, I look around Darren and Marko’s cabin, and there’s stuff scattered everywhere, including an acoustic guitar propped up in the corner by a bed. But stuff everywhere does not explain ten hats on the desk. They’re not all ball caps, either. There are a couple of cowboy hats, a Panama straw hat, and a fishing hat.

  There are also, like, fifteen pairs of glasses that range from cop-style sunglasses, to ones with narrow rectangle lenses, to cheap plastic hipster glasses, to the nerd specs Darren had been wearing in the library.

  And I’m sorry, but I’ve just got to know.

  “What’s all that about?” I ask, pointing at the desk.

  Darren sort of raises an eyebrow at the
hats, and when he doesn’t say anything, Marko goes, “Things can get a little crazy when people start recognizing us. Once it starts to build, it sort of tidal waves. And it’s starting to build.”

  “So those are disguises?” I ask, thinking that a ball cap and sunglasses have got to be the lamest disguise ever.

  Darren can tell what I’m thinking, though, and says, “A ball cap and sunglasses is the ultimate disguise. It doesn’t fool you because you know us. But it works remarkably well on people who only know us in a different context.”

  “Like from posters, which are now up outside the theater,” Marko says.

  “To hide, you just wear what half the population of men wear. It’s how you blend in and disappear in a crowd.”

  “We’ve gotten pretty good at laying low,” Marko says. “And switching it up. Like poolside today? Total peace and quiet.” He grins at Darren. “The goatees were genius.”

  I blink at them. “You wore goatees to the pool?”

  Darren shrugs. “My face was a little annoyed, but the rest of me was very happy.”

  “Right, huh?” Marko says with a happy little sigh.

  Darren looks at the clock. “Okay. It’s almost two in the morning. What are we doing about the situation? Do you want me to beat on Noah’s door?”

  “Or maybe some other part of him?” Marko asks.

  “No!” I tell them, ’cause something about your dad storming the castle seems so … childish.

  “Okay,” Darren says. “Then do you girls want to stay in here with us? Would that make you feel safer?”

  Marissa and I pull faces. “No!”

  “No?” Darren says, and he looks kinda hurt. “Marko could sleep in your room, and you two can share one of the beds in here?”

  “Uh, that’s okay,” I tell him, thinking how a) I was totally starting to feel like a little kid afraid of the boogey-man, and b) I did not want to share a tiny bed with someone who snored. Being in the same room was bad enough.

  “Or we could just switch rooms?” Marko says.

  “We’re fine,” I tell them, and drag Marissa toward the door. “It was probably Noah, and he probably thought he was being funny.”

  “He does tell bad chemistry jokes,” Marissa says.