Quinn barked out a laugh, genuinely amused. “I’m pretty sure it’s not my ship.”
“You’re head of security. It’s as much your ship as anyone else’s. This is your turf, and they’ve completely cut you out of the investigation.”
“I figured it would go this way. They’re not going to let a civilian handle things. Besides, like I said earlier, I think there’s something else going on.”
“And you still have no idea what?”
“Not a clue.”
“Well, they’re still buttheads.” Rowan squeezed his hand. “We can leave if you want, head out to dinner early or even sit on the beach away from all this. We haven’t made sandcastles in a few weeks. That always puts you in a good mood.”
“That always puts you in a good mood,” Quinn clarified, his lips curving. “I enjoy it because you get playful after screwing around in the sand for a few hours. I could honestly take or leave the sandcastles. I always want to take you.”
Rowan’s cheeks burned in the face of Quinn’s devilish grin. “You have an absolutely filthy mind sometimes. Has anybody ever told you that?”
“Just you. I’m fine with it.”
“Well ... maybe we’ll do the sandcastle thing later. For now, we don’t have to stay here. I feel bad because you look so lost.”
“I’m not lost. I’m simply thinking.”
“About?”
“There are a lot of possibilities to reckon with,” Quinn admitted, heaving out a sigh as he sank onto a nearby chair. Since the ship was buzzing with activity, he couldn’t do what he really wanted and pull Rowan onto his lap. He had to settle for her sitting next to him. “I find it impossible to believe that the fifty-one other people on that rig have no idea who this guy is.”
“They’re not here, are they?” Rowan craned her neck to see both ends of the deck. “Have they come back?”
“No, but you would expect someone would. Bart told me last night that they had three drilling foremen. A day guy, a night guy, and a senior guy who served as something of a floater. There is no conceivable way that none of them knew an additional individual who didn’t appear on their manifest was hanging out on what is essentially a tiny floating island.”
“Why would they all lie, though?” Rowan pressed. “How did everyone know that guy was going to die and agree to keep quiet about it without anyone noticing? It seems like a rather ridiculous lie to tell.”
“I don’t disagree with that. I can’t figure out why any of them would lie. I only really spent time with Bart and he brushed off my count as an error.”
“Do you think he was telling the truth? I mean ... maybe he didn’t realize there was an extra person onboard. You said he worked nights. He might’ve seen the dead guy and assumed he was part of the day crew. It’s possible he wasn’t consciously lying to you.”
“That’s another point.” Quinn leaned back in his chair and regarded the federal agents with distaste. “I wish I knew what they had. I don’t even know if they’ve identified our dead guy yet.”
“Can’t you ask?”
“I can but that’s like accepting they’re better than me.”
“No one is better than you.”
Despite himself, Quinn smiled. “You’re good for my ego.”
“I feel that way about you, too.”
“Good.” He patted her hand before heaving out a sigh. “All of this is weird. It’s like a bad Lifetime mystery movie or something. I wish I knew what made that rig suddenly fail.”
Rowan wrinkled her forehead. “Do you think it’s possible for someone to have done that damage on purpose?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’m not familiar with oil rigs. Seriously, the only knowledge I have was gleaned from the movie Armageddon.”
It was hard not to laugh at his earnest expression, but Rowan tried all the same. “Well ... .” She trailed off, her eyes drifting to the gangway as a group of men moved to join the party. “Who are they?”
Quinn followed her gaze. “I don’t know. I ... huh. I think that’s Larry Lincoln.”
“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”
“He’s the owner of the cruise line. His name appears on your checks.”
“I get direct deposit.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do,” Rowan confirmed. “I’ve never met him, though. Everyone I interviewed with when I was applying for my job was local to The Bounding Storm. I mean ... I had to deal with human resources people on the corporate level, but that was all by phone. Do you know him?”
“I do. Larry recruited me personally.”
Rowan was convinced Quinn would add to that, but when he didn’t, she decided to push. “And?”
Quinn shrugged. “He seemed nice enough. He was professional. He’s a gregarious guy, but he’s worth a lot of money and you can tell he sees himself as above others.”
“In other words, he’s a self-entitled schmuck.”
Quinn snickered. “I guess that’s fair to say. He’s not mean or anything. He’s just really busy. He called me himself, asked for a meeting, and a few hours later we hammered out a deal.”
“A deal in which you get special privileges no one else gets, right?”
“You get a lot of the same privileges.”
“I get to eat in the main dining room, but that makes sense because I’m expected to take photographs at certain meals. I’m pretty sure you’re paid more than me.”
Since Quinn was aware of Rowan’s salary, he could unequivocally say that he was paid ten times more than her. He had no intention of rubbing that in, though. He didn’t see himself as overpaid as much as he thought Rowan was underpaid. “Luckily I enjoy showering you with gifts.” He slowly got to his feet. “I should greet him.”
“Oh, right.” Rowan made small shooing motions with her hands. “Go ahead. I won’t take it personally that you’re abandoning me.”
Even though it was the middle stretch of what was rapidly turning into one of the worst days on record since he started working on The Bounding Storm, Quinn smirked. “Maybe you should come with me, meet the big boss and all.”
“Oh, he doesn’t want to meet me. I’m a nobody.”
“You’re my somebody,” Quinn corrected. “Besides that, though, you could never be a nobody. I think you should meet Larry. Do it for me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know what you think of him.”
“Okay. I think you’re being rather mysterious, but okay.”
Rowan hovered behind Quinn as the security chief strode in Larry’s direction, his hand outstretched in greeting. Larry immediately shook it, a curt smile exchanged before he launched straight into business.
“How did this happen?”
“We have no idea.” Quinn opted for honesty. “You’re aware of how we were called in for the rescue operation, correct?”
Larry bobbed his head. “I authorized your involvement myself. As a private cruise liner, it was within my purview to say no. If we could be of help, though, I wanted to offer my services.”
Quinn didn’t bother to mention that Larry didn’t offer his services. He offered the services of his crew while he was safely ensconced in his mega-mansion. “The rescue went fine. It was fast and efficient. Michael’s crew managed to keep the ship docked without incurring damage, and we were on and off within thirty minutes.”
“What happened after that?”
Quinn explained about the difference between his count and the manifest, and how the Andromeda crew told him he must be imagining the discrepancy. He explained about the government agency visit right after docking, and how the rig workers disembarked shortly after.
“We didn’t discover the body until this afternoon,” Quinn supplied. “The only reason we did is that the maids were changing out the sheets, which means they were on a tight laundry schedule, and the sheets weren’t making it to the bottom of the chute.”
“That’s quite the picture you’re painting.” Larry mad
e a face. “None of the rig workers volunteered that they were missing a co-worker?”
“No, and I had someone crossing off names as the workers disembarked,” Quinn replied. “Fifty-one people registered with the front desk last night. Fifty-one people left this afternoon. No one mentioned a fifty-second person.”
“That is ... odd.”
“To say the least.”
“And you still maintain that you counted fifty-two, right?”
“I do.” Quinn bobbed his head. “I’m not the only one who came up with that count either.” He motioned for Rowan to step forward. “This is Rowan Gray. She’s the ship’s photographer. Michael ordered her to take photos of the workers for insurance purposes.”
“Oh, right. Michael informed me he was doing that and I thought it was a good idea.”
“Rowan is diligent about her work,” Quinn explained. “She took photos of everybody. She counted fifty-two workers.”
“Did you double check?”
“We did last night,” Quinn said. “We went through the faces several times. There were fifty-two workers.”
“And now one of them — the one who was conveniently left off the manifest — is dead.”
“Pretty much.”
“Hmm.” Larry rolled his neck and stared at the gangway as another group of men descended on The Bounding Storm. Larry’s demeanor shifted quickly as excitement buzzed over him. “That’s Jasper Fitzgerald. He’s the owner of Fitzgerald Oil Company. I didn’t realize the rig belonged to him, but I guess that makes sense. He has a good twenty offshore rigs in this area.”
“Do you know him?” Rowan asked.
“Only in passing. We’ve met at a few charity functions. Everyone at a certain income level has occasion to know everyone else at that income level. We’re hardly friends, though.”
“I see.” Rowan flicked her eyes to Quinn so she could gauge his reaction. “Maybe you should talk to him, Quinn. He might be able to tell us who the body belongs to.”
“You didn’t photograph the body, did you?” Larry asked, his distaste obvious.
“No, but I photographed everyone last night and saw the body this afternoon,” Rowan replied. “I know which individual we’re dealing with and still have the photographs from yesterday.”
“Oh, well, brilliant.” Larry’s smile was tight. “I don’t suppose you can show me, can you?”
Rowan looked to Quinn for confirmation and, when he nodded, she knew she had no choice but to acquiesce. She wasn’t a fan of Larry’s condescending nature, but he was the boss and her photos were technically his property. “Just let me find him.”
Quinn watched as Rowan searched the photos through the camera’s viewfinder and then shifted his attention to Larry, who seemed to have completely forgotten Rowan and Quinn were even with him as he studied Jasper Fitzgerald. Quinn cleared his throat to draw his boss’s attention back to him.
“I think it’s weird that the Feds are taking over this investigation. Usually, in situations like this, the locals handle the first few days and then hand it over to the big dogs after the fact. The Feds were here within three hours. That’s practically unheard of.”
The news caught Larry off guard. “Is it possible that they merely inserted themselves because they were already involved due to the rig mishap?”
“I guess in theory, but not generally in practice. What happened on the rig is a workplace safety issue. What happened on this ship after the rescue is a murder, and the workplace safety folks don’t generally solve murders.”
“Good point.” Larry looked on with interest as Rowan raised her camera. “That’s the dead man?”
Rowan nodded. “That’s him. I have him in three different photos. He was eating with the group in the dining room. I have no idea if anyone was speaking to him, but he was at the same table with a bunch of other workers.”
“Well, let’s see if we can get a name.” Larry roughly grabbed Rowan’s camera, giving it a tug despite the strap around her neck.
“Wait. Ow.”
“Hey!” Quinn’s anger flashed as he put a hand on Larry’s arm to still him. “How about you let Rowan carry her own camera and not try to yank her head off with the strap, huh?”
Larry blinked several times in rapid succession. “I believe this is my property.”
“Actually, it’s not.” Rowan reclaimed the camera. “While I do have several cameras you’ve supplied me with, this particular one is mine. I’ve had it since high school. My father got it for me as a seventeenth birthday gift.”
Quinn’s heart rolled at the sad look that momentarily took over her features. “That sounds like a nice gift.”
“It was,” Rowan agreed. “I was very excited. It’s not your camera, though.”
“Well ... .” Larry shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. “I simply wanted to show the photograph to Jasper and see if he recognized the individual. I wasn’t trying to steal it or anything.”
“Then let’s go over there as a group,” Quinn suggested, putting his hand at the small of Rowan’s back to prod her forward. “It won’t take long. Hopefully he’ll be able to put this entire thing to bed.”
“I’m definitely hopeful that’s true.” Larry added a bit of a swagger to his step as he met Jasper at the head of the gangway. “Mr. Fitzgerald, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.” He sounded bland and pompous, which set Quinn’s teeth on edge.
“Mr. Lincoln,” Fitzgerald drawled, seemingly bored. “I’m sorry all this happened on your ship. I’m also grateful that you managed to save my men. I appreciate the effort and am more than willing to pay for any expenses you incurred.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Larry waved off the suggestion. “It was basically just a bit of food ... and a murder.”
“Yes, well, I’m here because of the murder.” Fitzgerald was decidedly grim. “I don’t understand how any of this happened. Are you sure it’s one of my men?”
“My staff is sure.” Larry issued the statement in such a manner it made Quinn very aware that he would have to prove his own point because the cruise ship mogul wasn’t going to take credit for anything he didn’t personally investigate himself.
“I’m Quinn Davenport.” He introduced himself quickly. “I’m head of security.”
“Okay.” Fitzgerald’s face was blank and bland. “How did this happen?”
“We’re still not sure how it happened,” Quinn admitted. “The cameras in that part of the ship are turned off at night. That’s an area only accessible to the crew, and the guests never wander into that space.”
“And yet one of my men supposedly died there,” Fitzgerald noted. “Perhaps you should beef up your security.”
Quinn bit back a hot retort. He was nothing if not diligent about his work, and he took great pride in his staff. “That’s something we’ll definitely consider. We have a photograph of the dead man. It was taken last night in the dining hall. I was hoping you might be able to identify him.”
“Certainly.” Fitzgerald gripped his hands together and patiently waited for Rowan to remove the camera strap from her neck and lift the equipment so he could stare at the viewfinder. “This man?”
Rowan nodded. “Yes.”
Fitzgerald tilted his head to the side ... and then the other side. Finally he shook his head and turned away from the camera. “I’ve never seen that man before in my life.”
Quinn worked hard to tamp down his disappointment. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I know my men. That man does not work for me.”
“Then how did he get on your rig?”
“I have no idea. I’m most certainly going to find out, though.”
7
Seven
“Sweetie, can you do me a favor?”
Quinn was all charm when he sidled up to Rowan an hour later. He was trying to look nonchalant — something outsiders would believe without question — but Rowan knew him better than most and recognized he was plotting something.
“Sure.” Rowan bobbed her head without hesitation. “What do you want me to do?”
Quinn stared at her for a long beat. “Every fantasy I’ve had over the past few months starts with that exact question.”
It took Rowan a moment to recognize what Quinn was saying, and when she did, her cheeks flushed with color. “You have a dirty mind.”
“I do,” Quinn agreed, grinning. “I also need you to do something for me.”
The way he sobered told Rowan that he meant business. “Okay. What?”
“I need you to photograph everyone from Larry Lincoln’s group, as well as everyone from Jasper Fitzgerald’s group.”
It seemed like a normal request, but Rowan was confused all the same. “Why? Do you expect me to find the omen on someone’s photograph? Just for the record, I went back through my photos from last night and the omen never appeared on any of them. Whatever happened to that guy was quick and violent. It was also spur of the moment.”
“I’m not looking for the omen,” Quinn replied, keeping his voice low. He toyed with the ends of Rowan’s hair, from afar appearing to be nothing more than a boyfriend flirting with his girlfriend. “I just want photos of everyone involved.”
Rowan wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t understand.”
“I will explain it later. For now, all that’s important is I want the photos and yet I don’t want anyone to know that I asked for the photos.”
“Okay.” Rowan didn’t put up a fight. “I’ll do it. Just know, though, I’m going to make you do whatever I want when we get back to the room tonight. I’m going to give it a lot of thought, too, so it’s going to be really creative.”
Quinn snickered. “Now I want to ignore everyone on this deck and drag you to bed.”
“If only.” Rowan forced a smile as she clutched her camera. “You’re going to tell me later why you want me to do this, right?”
“Yes.” Quinn answered without hesitation. “I’m simply leery to do it when we have an audience. Between the federal agents and cops sniping at one another over jurisdiction, Fitzgerald and Lincoln practically whipping them out to see who has the bigger ... um ... bank account, and the oil company representatives Fitzgerald brought congregating in a small group and whispering the entire time, I’m even more certain than ever that something weird is going on here.”
Churning Seas Page 6
