“A wedding? He doesn’t do weddings. He says they don’t pay well, and it’s what amateur photographers do. He looked down on wedding photographers.”
“This was two years ago. And I heard he was being offered six figures for some follow-up pictures. Seems unbelievable, right?”
“Six figures? Him? For wedding pictures?”
I shrugged. “Not even wedding pictures. Just a couple of pictures for a two-year anniversary.”
Zara snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, and pigs might fly. Of course if that was true, it would certainly help him. He never seemed to have enough money.”
“No? He told me he was successful.”
“Yeah, he was successful. But he also had expensive tastes. A three-bedroom apartment and a nice car, in Manhattan? That’s not the kind of lifestyle that working photographers lead.” She shook her head at the thought of it. “Even pretty successful ones.”
The barman put two drinks down in front of her, and she immediately stuck one straw into her mouth and took several big gulps. Then she sat up straight, clutching her hand to her throat.
I looked at Ethan, who shared my alarm at the sight of her. It looked like she had been poisoned.
“So… cold!” she said, rubbing at her neck.
I stifled a laugh. She had just downed a huge amount of crushed ice and frozen her throat.
“You sure you’re not going to join me for a real drink?” she asked again, staring at my glass of fizzy water which was now nearly finished. I’d been sipping at it while she gossiped.
I shook my head. “Not today, I’m afraid.”
“Well, if you’re not going to drink with me, I’d rather drink alone.”
Ethan caught my eye and nodded. It was time for us to get out of there. But this conversation hadn’t been futile at least. It had given us a lot more to think about.
It seemed Avaricious Andy had more skeletons in his closet than we’d thought.
Chapter 26
T hat day seemed to be a day for miserable lone drinkers. Not an hour after I had left Zara, I passed another half of an unhappy couple. This time, it was Rick’s other half, Jessica, who was sitting at the bar inside the Cocktail Club on her own.
This time, I did not go to talk with the solitary cocktail drinker. Instead, it gave me an idea. After Ethan and I had spoken to her earlier, we were still suspicious. Was she as much of an airhead as she put on or was it an act? In order to get to the bottom of that question, I wanted to investigate her a little further. And that meant looking at her stuff.
I knew Rick was at Xavier’s photography class and follow-up workshop, which should still have had at least another hour to go, if not longer depending on how long he spent chatting with them after.
Of course Jessica should have been with the photographers as well, but it looked like she had dropped out. In fact, come to think of it, I didn’t think I had seen her at any of the photography events since the first day.
I sent a quick message to Cece.
Hey! Busy?
Yo! Been catching some Zzzzs. What’s up?
Meet me at VIP entrance.
She responded with a single thumbs up.
Jessica had a full drink in front of her when I left, meaning I should have at least half an hour—assuming she didn’t sprint back to the suite—before she would be back. That should give us just enough time to poke around.
I hurried up to the VIP section and met Cece, who was already there.
“What are we doing? Is it…” Cece lifted the key card holder hanging from the lanyard around her neck, raising her eyebrows at me.
“You know it. Come on. We’re going back to Rick and Jessica’s.”
“No problem.” Cece led us down the hallway leading to their suite.
“But let’s be quick. She’s drinking in a bar on her own, but I don’t know how long she’s going to be.”
Cece picked up the pace and took us to their cabin. She swiped the door with the key card, and after checking that we weren’t being observed, we slipped inside.
“What are we looking for?”
“I don’t know. But something. Look for anything, I don’t know, suspicious. Interesting. Weird. Some sign that she isn’t an airhead—if she’s got War and Peace next to her bedside table, or you see she’s enrolled in an online philosophy doctoral program. Anything that’ll be a clue.”
“On it.”
While Cece went into the master bedroom, I spent a couple of minutes looking around the large living area. The closest thing to intellectual stimulation I found was a Seventeen magazine.
There were no great Russian authors lying around. Nor did I find any confession notes, or signs that Jessica had been tricking us.
Having found nothing of interest in the living area, I decided to join Cece in the bedroom. From what I remembered, Jessica had all of her stuff in there, while Rick’s stuff was in the other bedroom.
When I entered, Cece had the large closet doors open and all of the drawers inside were also pulled out. She was rummaging through Jessica’s underwear.
“Anything?”
“Yeah. I want to know where she got these.” Cece held up a lacy pair of underwear.
I poked her in the shoulder. “Put that down.”
As we were both staring into the closet, we didn’t notice when someone appeared behind us. When the voice came, it made me nearly yelp in shock.
“What is the meaning of this!?”
We both spun around, our jaws dropping open, and the underwear that Cece was holding fell to the floor. It was Rick. He must have come in without us hearing the door open. That was a problem with these big VIP suites: you couldn’t even hear the door unlocking when you were in the master suite.
“We—”
“— are cleaning,” said Cece with all the confidence of a seasoned liar.
“Cleaning out my wife’s possessions! And I know who you two are. The cleaner and the social media girl!”
“It’s not what it looks like!” I said urgently, trying to get him to believe me.
He gave me a questioning look. That was a problem. I didn’t have a good follow-up.
“It’s our new tidying up service,” said Cece confidently. “You know, like Marie Kondo. We go in and tidy everything up. I’m sure Jessica will love it.”
“Don’t touch anything else! Get out of here and wait in the living room. And don’t you dare go anywhere. I’m calling security.”
Feeling like a delinquent who’d been caught by the headmaster, I followed Rick meekly out of the room. Cece followed behind, after picking up the underwear she had dropped and shoving it back in the drawer. We had done the exact opposite of tidying up that room.
“Sit!” Said Rick pointing to the sofa.
The sofa was just like the one that Andy had been shot on. I didn’t want to sit on it. But I didn’t want to argue with Rick either. He had an angry, almost manic glint in his eyes.
Slowly, I walked over to the sofa and sat all the way on the left-hand side of it. I refused to sit in the middle. Cece came over and sat right beside me, resting her hand on my knee for support.
Rick had picked up the courtesy phone and dialed the number for security.
“Security? There’s a housekeeper and a social manager in my room! They told me they were cleaning, or tidying up, or something. But I don’t think so. I think they’re stealing. Send someone over right away!”
When he’d hung up the phone, I tried to defend us again. “We weren’t stealing! Look, we don’t have anything. You can search us if you want.”
Cece smacked me on the leg. I guess she didn’t like the idea of volunteering to be searched by a strange man. Upon reflection, nor did I. I shouldn’t have suggested it. Luckily, he didn’t take us up on the offer.
“Of course you don’t! I caught you. Now, don’t move. And don’t talk either.”
Cece and I sat there, fidgeting with nerves, while we waited. Although only about five minutes passed, it fel
t like an interminable amount of time. Finally, the doorbell rang, and there was a call from outside. “Security!”
I looked at Cece excitedly. I knew that voice, and so did she.
I tried not to smile while Rick opened the door and Ethan walked in. He had a stern look on his face.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take care of this. Adrienne, Cece, come with me. We’re going to my office. Now.” He said the last word with such force that I was already halfway across the room before I’d thought about it. I could see that Ethan hadn’t forgotten all of his military ways yet.
“You need me to come with you?” asked Rick.
“Not just now, sir. We’ll come to you when we need a statement. We wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“Oh no, it wouldn’t be any trouble, in fact —“
“I’ll let you know.” Ethan cut him off.
Cece and I were already by the front door when Ethan turned back to Rick.
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“We’re thinking about introducing a new program. A visit to a shooting range on-shore, for women only. A kind of introduction to firearms type thing. Do you think your wife would be interested?”
“My wife? Jessica? Shooting?”
Ethan nodded back at him. “Yes. Has she used a gun before?”
Rick let out a snorting laugh before he responded. “Jessica with a gun? Absolutely not. My father tried to take her hunting once, but she didn’t even make it out of the car. She’s never fired a gun in her life, and if I was you, I wouldn’t rush to invite her on your shooting course either. I really don’t think it would be for her.”
Ethan nodded. “Okay, thank you very much, sir. I’ll have a complimentary bottle of wine and fruit basket sent around instead. Sorry about all this.”
I was hiding the smile on my face as we went outside. That had been clever thinking on Ethan’s part, finding out whether Jessica knew how to use a gun. Unless she’d been keeping some pretty big secrets from her husband, it did a lot to eliminate her as the possible shooter.
Despite admiring Ethan’s quick thinking, I was nervous as we reconvened outside. He had sounded so stern with Rick that I was sure we were going to get in trouble. Being in trouble with your boyfriend when he’s also technically your boss has to be one of the worst feelings ever. It’s up there with finding dead bodies, in my experience.
“Follow me.”
So we did. But instead of leading us his office, he just took us outside of the VIP floor, onto the deck outside.
“Let me guess. You were in the room, looking to see if you could find any evidence of Jessica committing the murder?”
I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
“Yep. That’s exactly what we were doing. That or some sign that the airheadedness was an all act.”
“Well? Did you find anything?”
I shook my head. “We weren’t there long before he came back. He was supposed to be at the photography class. Guess he ducked out. But I didn’t find anything in the room.”
Ethan looked at Cece. “And you?”
I saw her hesitate, perhaps about to mention the frilly underwear she had been admiring, before she stopped herself and shook her head. “Nothing to do with the murder, unfortunately.”
“Okay, please, please, try and be more careful. I’m going to have to calm him down later. And tell him that you two are under disciplinary review. Try and act like you’ve had a good telling off when you see him, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” said Cece with a grin. “Maybe you should spank Adrienne.”
Ethan’s jaw dropped, and I punched Cece in the arm, my cheeks going red.
“Later guys,” she said, running away before either of us could probably get her.
“She’s a wild one, isn’t she?” said Ethan. I noticed he didn’t comment on what precisely she had said.
“That she is… That she is…”
Chapter 27
T hat evening, Ethan and I finally had our dinner date. And with my luck, it went about as well as you would expect.
He had taken me to just about the most secluded spot you could find for a meal on board—The Grill Shack. It was a steak restaurant that styled itself after a Texan country steakhouse, and along with lone star flags, wagon wheels, and rodeo memorabilia, it featured a row of booths along one wall which provided their occupants with more privacy than you got at pretty much any other dining establishment aboard the ship.
“Sorry about getting caught in that cabin earlier.”
Ethan shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s okay. I mean, if we weren’t trying to solve a murder, of course it wouldn’t be. But in these circumstances, it was some good thinking. Shame it didn’t pan out.”
For the first time on this cruise, I was seeing Ethan out of his uniform. He was wearing dark corduroy pants and a well-fitted light blue button-up shirt. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up and I couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his forearms as he picked up his water glass.
“I don’t know. It gave me another idea, at least.”
“What’s that?” Ethan leaned toward me and I inhaled a deep breath. He smelled of Ivory soap and the woody, piney cologne that was his signature scent. It was the kind of comfortable, alluring scent you could just fall into and get wrapped up in.
“Rick. He’s quite… temperamental. Angry, even. I mean, I know we shouldn’t have been in his room, but you should have seen the way he looked at us before you arrived.” I suppressed a shudder. Ethan noticed, leaning over and squeezing my hand.
“So what are you thinking?”
“Maybe Cece wasn’t the only one to find out about the blackmail. Jessica probably isn’t great at keeping secrets. What if Rick found out Andy was blackmailing her?”
Ethan nodded slowly. “Didn’t you say he’d been unhappy with his marriage, too?”
“Yep. He kept saying how dumb his wife was to Greg when I heard them talking in the bar. In retrospect, maybe it was because he found something out—maybe he found out her secret.”
“Do you think he’s the jealous type?”
“I bet he is. I reckon he’s the kind of person who’d talk badly about his own wife, but then if anyone else even so much as looked at her, he’d be all over them.”
“Do we know anything about this tennis instructor she was having an affair with? He might be in danger too.”
That was a point. This tennis instructor’s life could be in jeopardy if Rick had found out about the affair. I didn’t know anything about him, though.
“I’ll try and find out from Jessica tomorrow who he is. Maybe we can give him a warning.”
Ethan nodded thoughtfully. We paused our conversation as a waiter brought over our meals. We both had a ribeye steak, a baked potato with sour cream, and a heaping mound of coleslaw made fresh on the ship.
When the waiter was gone, we practically jumped at our meals. I don’t think either of us wanted to talk about murder, or murderers, while we ate. It tends to ruin the vibe.
Instead, we talked about movies, and Ethan confessed his love for classic cinema—films from the forties and fifties, long before either of us were born.
“I haven’t seen many old movies,” I confessed somewhat guiltily. “I think I saw Gone With the Wind, but that was ages ago, when I was a kid.”
“No? You’re missing out. At least tell me you’ve seen Casablanca.”
I shook my head.
Ethan’s eyebrows shot up. “Come on. Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”
“Ummm…”
“You and me have got some serious movie watching to do,” he said to me sternly. I grinned back at him. It was kind of fun when he was like that.
“Next shore leave, we’re getting all of those, and a bunch more, and I’m going to give you a proper education. I can’t believe you haven’t seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s!”
I giggled. “Sorry to disappoint you with my lack of movie education.”
; He squeezed my hand. “That’s okay. It’ll be fun introducing you to the classics.”
We chatted more about movies, with Ethan telling me the names of dozens more that I just had to see while we ate. The food was spectacular and the company even better.
For a while, thoughts of death and murder and suspects completely slipped my mind, and I think the same was true of Ethan. He seemed more relaxed than I’d seen him in forever, though the lack of uniform certainly helped in that regard.
After we’d finished the main course, and while we waited for our apple pie and ice cream, we lapsed into a brief silence. Not an uncomfortable one. It was the kind of silence caused by the flirtatious locking of eyes, when words no longer seemed necessary, or to even have a point.
Ethan and I stared at each other across the table, our heads moving forward of their own accord, slowly and slowly toward an inevitable meeting.
We were going to kiss.
Our first one.
Right then and there.
Like two ships sailing to a rendezvous, his soft lips moved toward mine and...
“Oh, shoot!”
Ethan and I broke apart in alarm. In our booth, we were secluded from the view of about ninety percent of the restaurant. You had to be right beside us to see in. It was basically our first PDA and it turned out to be a lot more public than we had thought.
Because that’s exactly where Kelly happened to be.
“Kelly! Sorry!” I shouted. I mean, what did I have to be sorry about? Nothing. But my mind often makes me feel guilty about things I shouldn’t. Like nearly kissing my boyfriend.
Ethan just sat back and cleared his throat, looking awkwardly at the cruise director. For once, I think he actually blushed. Usually, that was my job.
“Shoot! Sorry! Shoot! I didn’t know!”
“Can we help you with anything?” asked Ethan, finally speaking again.
“I just wanted you to sign-off on some forms. But it can wait. I’ll come to your office in the morning!”
“Right. Yes. My office in the morning would be ideal, instead of interrupting my dinner. We have office hours for a reason you know, Kelly.”
Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries 05 - Cruise Conundrum Page 16
