Undercover Cruise (A Maggie McFarlin Mystery Book 2)

by Charisse Peeler

  As soon as Maggie walked out, the noise level faded. The further she got, the more the noise faded, and the more relief she felt. Finally, the weight on her shoulders lifted; she could breathe normally. She hadn’t realized how stressful that place was—the people, the noise, the smoke. She walked until she reached the wine bar and found a quiet seat in the corner.

  Here she could keep away from the noisy crowds and enjoy the Spanish guitar music being strummed out by a young musician with long bangs. He sat on a small platform in the corner opposite Maggie’s seat. She noticed a young couple sitting at a bar and several older women seated near the small stage.

  The server came over, and Maggie ordered a California Pinot Noir. She rarely drank something so light, but she was trying to be spontaneous.

  As soon as the server brought the wine, she became disappointed in her choice. She apologized to the server, and ordered a Cabernet. While she waited for her wine, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and turned it on. She had set it to airplane mode to avoid letting it roam, but she had turned it off until they were far enough offshore to connect to the ship’s Wi-Fi. She found the ship’s network and entered her last name and cabin number. A pop-up window indicated she was connected.

  She flipped through her Facebook account once the messages started popping in. She tapped her messaging icon, and found several messages from Britney and a phone message from Alex. She was about to listen to Alex’s voice mail when a dark figure appeared and took a seat across from her.

  Silas.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I’m on a cruise. I’m having a drink,” he said, sitting back comfortably.

  The server showed up and placed Maggie’s wine in front of her.

  “I’ll have a Bud Light,” Silas said before the server even asked.

  “We have Miller Lite and Corona Light,” she said, smiling.

  “Is it icy cold?”

  “Yes, it’s in a refrigeration unit,” she said, a little confused.

  “Bring me a glass of ice,” Silas said, “just in case.”

  “You got it, sir, anything you need,” the server said as she walked away.

  “So?” Maggie asked.

  “So what?” Silas asked back.

  “What are you doing here? I talked to Alex, and she seemed surprised that you and Jay are on this cruise. Don’t you work for her?”

  “Aw, yes. Well, Alex is one of many clients,” Silas said, smiling as his beer showed up. He took his time pouring the beer in the glass of ice.

  “That’s just weird,” Maggie said as she watched. He ignored her comment but instead ordered another beer.

  “It’s never cold enough, and I’m going to drink it before the ice melts, so it works.”

  “Are you on a job for someone other than Alex?” Maggie asked. “And why were you asking me about a notebook?”

  “Look, Maggie, I like you. You’re smart, funny, and beautiful…but I have to work. I don’t have a retirement plan, or I might be able to bring something to the table,” he said, looking at her. He reached for her hand. She wanted to pull it away but decided to see where this was going.

  “What are you saying?”

  “We had a lot of fun, you know. I actually can see us as a couple.” He was looking into her eyes, and she was resisting every instinct to pull away. She shut her eyes tightly then opened them slowly, making sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  “Okay,” was the only thing she could conjure, still trying to see where Silas was going.

  “We’re not getting any younger, and I would love to settle down.”

  “Okay,” she said again, unable to think of anything else to say. It was the server who broke in, setting down an ice bucket full of ice and several beers.

  “That’s what I’m talking about

  Silas smiled and fished a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket then handed it to her as a tip.

  “I’ll bring your change,” she said.

  “No change. It’s all yours.”

  “Oh, thank you, sir, thank you, thank you,” she repeated, staring at the bill in her hand.

  “That was generous,” Maggie said.

  She released her hand from Silas’ and she took a sip of her wine.

  “So where were we?” Silas said.

  “You were going to tell me why you are on this ship and what I have to do with it.”

  “No, that’s not it.” Silas shook his head. “I wanted to tell you that if you want to be together, I need at least two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

  “What?” Maggie blinked several times, replaying his words.

  “If you want me to quit my job and travel with you, I need some kind of assurance.”

  “Okay, I am so confused right now,” she started. “Are you saying you would like to date me and be my travel companion, but you would want me to give you a quarter of a million dollars to do so? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “It sounds bad when you say it like that. I’m just saying that you are getting to the age where it’s harder to find someone, and we like each other. We were very compatible, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh my God, Silas.” Maggie’s voice rose, and she stood.

  “Shhh!” he said, motioning her to sit back down.

  She sat but continued in a loud whisper: “I am only fifty-six years old. I don’t need to pay someone to sleep with me or be my traveling companion. There are plenty of apps for that.”

  “Maggie, you’re taking this all wrong. I said you are beautiful, smart, and I like hanging out with you.”

  “I don’t even know who you are or what exactly you do. I just had a weak moment, and Britney talked me into dating you for a minute. I can’t believe you approach me like this. I don’t even know what to say. I…” Maggie stopped. Her heart was about to explode. She felt a lump working its way up to her throat. She gulped it down as she stood again, tears welling at the edges of her eyes. She turned her back to Silas as she walked out, hearing his last words: “You’ll never find another guy like me…”

  The words stung. The loneliness of her life, served on a silver platter. Silas was a nut case, but he wasn’t wrong. She had no choices, but it wasn’t because she hadn’t tried. Still, he was right. The dates she had ventured out on were awful. Dating was harder when you were in your fifties. She couldn’t hold it in any longer: she let the tears roll down her cheeks. She found a restroom and ducked into one of the stalls, where she sat on the toilet and covered her face with her hands. That was when she remembered the messages waiting for her on her phone.

  She stood to fish the phone out of her back pocket when it slipped and fell into the toilet.

  Oh no! she told herself as she quickly fished it out. She knew not to turn it back on. What else can go wrong? she asked herself as she opened the stall door—and almost ran right into Kimberly.

  Kimberly looked Maggie from head to foot. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I dropped my phone in the toilet.”

  “Gross.”

  Kimberly continued past Maggie and entered the next stall.

  Maggie went to the sink and splashed cold water in her face. With a paper towel she blotted the mascara that had melted down her face.

  Soon Kimberly came out and washed her hands next to Maggie.

  “You okay?”

  Kimberly glanced at Maggie’s reflection in the mirror. She seemed to be genuinely concerned.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired,” Maggie said, actually feeling the exhaustion in her limbs.

  “I’m heading up if you want to walk with me,” Kimberly said.

  “Sure.” Maggie attempted a smile but couldn’t.

  The two women silently walked to the elevator. Kimberly took the lead. Just before the doors opened at Deck 11, Kimberly said, “Whatever it is, it will be okay.”

  Maggie didn’t respond. She couldn’t help see Kimberly in a new light. Maybe her rough exterior was a cover for a much m
ore compassionate person. As they entered their suite, Kimberly asked Maggie for her phone. Maggie handed it to her without question; she would have analyzed it more, but it had been a long day. She walked in a zombie state straight to her bed, where she pulled the covers over her head and fell asleep before another tear could fall.

  Monday

  Chapter 9

  Purser’s Office

  When Maggie woke up the next morning, her head had cleared. She was full of determination instead of her pity party from the night before. She found her phone in a bag of rice sitting on the nightstand beside her bed. She picked it up and rolled it around on the blankets before opening it and pulling it out. Kimberly must have somehow found rice and put it in the bag for. The only thing she remembered before going to bed was handing Kimberly the phone.

  She found the charger and plugged it in, hoping the rice had done its job and that the dip in the porcelain pond hadn’t done permanent damage.

  “Well, good morning, sleepyhead.”

  Mike walked into the room, holding a cup of coffee, which he kindly held out to her.

  “You are a saint,” she said, eagerly accepting the cup of heaven. She took a sip, closing her eyes, feeling the hot liquid travel from her lips down her throat, to the place deep inside her where coffee did its magic. She took another few sips before opening her eyes again.

  Unfortunately, Mike was still standing in front of her with judgment in his eyes. He was holding two small pills in his open palm as an additional offering.

  “Aww, no thanks,” she said, “I’m a professional. I don’t get headaches.”

  “You look professional.” Mike looked at her fully clothed body. “Maybe just keep them in your pocket in case.”

  She took the small pink pills from his palm and set them on the dresser behind her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Can you be ready in—”

  “Half hour,” she answered before Mike had a chance to say ten minutes. It was evident that he had already showered. The smell of soap and aftershave was strong, and his hair, what he had of it, was combed back. A tiny bit of shaving cream foam remained on his left ear, where he had missed. She wanted to wipe it off for him, but it seemed too intimate of a gesture.

  “Okay, so get out so I can get ready,” she said, backing him out the door and shutting it behind him. She set her back to the door, took a deep breath, then headed for the shower. On the way, she picked up the two ibuprofen Mike had given her and swallowed them down with her coffee, just in case.

  On the way out the door, Maggie picked up the ship’s daily planner, called “The Daily Must Do’s.”

  “Here’s something fun,” she said as they rode the elevator down to Deck 4.

  “Joanie scheduled us for the jeep tour in Cozumel.”

  “We’re already in Cozumel?”

  “Look at the top of that planner. It says ‘Welcome to Cozumel.’ ”

  “Oh, whoops.”

  They walked around, trying to find the security office, where they expected to meet Randolph. But they spotted him sitting in the purser’s office. He was leaning back in a swivel chair, eyes closed, feet up on his desk, his hands folded across his chest.

  “I think he’s asleep,” Maggie whispered.

  “Randy!” Mike shouted.

  Randolph jumped, almost falling out of the chair.

  “Jeez, Mike. You scared the you-know-what out of me.”

  Mike smiled wide. “Sorry.”

  “You look sorry.”

  Randolph stood to greet the two with a handshake from across the desk. “Please sit.” He motioned to the two chairs facing him.

  “Why are you sitting in the purser’s office?” Mike asked.

  “Well, I’m temporarily doing double duty. I’m the purser and the security chief. As you see, things are a little slow right now. Our ship’s actual purser is on emergency leave.”

  “Oh no,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, it’s not bad, it’s a good emergency. His wife just had twins.”

  Mike raised his eyebrow. “Sounds like he has his hands full.”

  “Uh, you could say that. Her two little bambinos are number six and number seven. Now I ask you, how does a guy keep having so many kids being on the ship six months at a time?”

  “I think you just answered your own question,” Maggie said as she took a seat. Mike followed suit then inched his chair closer to the desk.

  “So, Randy,” Mike started, attempting to change the subject, “we wanted to come down here and fill you in with what’s going on.”

  “Yes, please.”

  Randolph pulled his chair in and picked up a pen.

  Mike started right in. “My sister uncovered a scheme at her bank to defraud elderly people. The scammer poses as a bank examiner who asks an older person to withdraw a specific amount of money. In this case, the phony bank examiner asked for ten grand but ended up with over a million. He couldn’t have done it without the help of someone on the inside. Fortunately, all the employees who had the knowledge to pull off the operation—and the opportunity to do it—happen to be on this cruise.”

  “It seems like a strange coincidence, don’t you think?” Randy asked. His pen was poised but he didn’t write anything down.

  “Well, it happens that her particular bank was recognized by Corporate as the top bank in North Carolina in customer service, so they treated the top ranks with this trip, all expenses paid.”

  “They didn’t spare any expense, I gather. You’re staying in the best suite on the ship.”

  “It may not be someone on the ship who is the mastermind,” Maggie said, letting both Mike and Randy know she was fully engaged in the investigation. “But they would at least need the assistance of one—or, for that matter, several—of the bank associates.”

  “So why doesn’t she just call the authorities?” Randolph asked, flipping his pen between two fingers.

  “Because the victim, in this case, is my aunt Millie, who is ninety-two years old. They stole her entire life savings. As you know, in these cases the money is rarely recovered. Unless the person has the money in their possession, it’s lost. Even if the culprit is apprehended, they might serve five years, and there’s never a guarantee they would ever be able to pay restitution; meanwhile, my aunt is destitute.”

  Randolph leaned back in his chair, putting the pen in his mouth. “I guess that makes sense.” He considered the facts Mike had just told him. “So you believe that one of these bank people is responsible for taking your aunt’s money…or that they can lead you to who did?”

  “Exactly,” Mike said.

  “But there’s still no guarantee you’ll be able to recover the money. Let’s say you figure it out. The person is just going to admit to the scheme and give it all back?” Randolph said with the pen still in his mouth.

  “I’m not saying it’s the best plan, but it’s the only opportunity we have at the moment.”

  “Who are you most interested in?”

  Randolph now seemed ready to write. Maggie noticed all the pens in the cup sitting on the purser’s desk had chewed ends.

  “There are three people from the bank here on the cruise, all of whom had access and opportunity; one of them has to know something, but I’m not sure about motive. We have David Sanchez, the I-T guy, Kimberly Carson, the head teller, and John Haas, the head of security.”

  “What about the bank manager? He isn’t a suspect?”

  “The bank manager is my sister, Joanie, and she’s the one who brought this to us. She just wants to get our aunt’s money back and save her job.”

  “You know she is going to lose her job when the company finds out she didn’t go through the proper protocol with this matter?”

  “I think the best outcome would be if we find out who did it and get the money back before having to report it to the Federal Trade Commission—if, at that point, it would even be necessary to report it to the authorities.”

  “The F-T-C doesn’t resolv
e the complaints anyway,” Maggie said. “Just more red tape before the matter is actually investigated; and as far as motive, that’s easy. Money.”

  “That’s true.” Mike nodded in agreement. “Money is the best motive in the world. But do you think someone who just stole almost a million dollars would come on this cruise? Why not? A million bucks isn’t going to be enough to hide on a tropical island. Maybe ten million.”

  “You know, your aunt may not be the only one who has been taken in by this guy,” Ralph said. “A lot of these older people either don’t notice or are too afraid to say anything when they realize they’ve been scammed, in fear of losing their independence. Your problem might be much bigger than just your aunt.”

  “You’re right, but my concern, or rather our concern”—he pointed back and forth, between Maggie and himself—“is to resolve Aunt Millie’s money.”

  “No, I completely understand, so whatever help you need, let me know,” Randolph said.

  “Well, there is something you could do for us,” Mike said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Can we have access to the security tapes that show some of the activities of the members of our group?”

  “That’s fine,” Randolph said, “but you would have to know where they were. The ship has a lot of security cameras, and they are constantly recording. Unless there’s an incident, the video tapes over itself every forty-eight hours. I don’t have the staff to review all the tapes. There is no way I have the staff to sift through them. Also, there’s no audio, so I’m not sure anything we see will help.”

  Mike’s face turned down with disappointment.

  “But I’ll have my people keep a close eye out and let me know if they see anything suspicious. Speaking of suspicious…” Randolph’s his serious expression dissolved into a smile as he leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me how this all happened.” He pointed back and forth between Mike and Maggie.

  Maggie felt her face turn hot.

  “There isn’t anything to tell,” Mike said. “After the murder in Boca was solved, we just kept in touch. Ms. McFarlin is studying to become a private investigator, so I took her under my wing. She agreed to help me out on this case.”