by Rebecca Deel
At the forty-minute mark, a man dressed in a cabin steward’s uniform walked into view with his head down, face averted from the camera. He pushed a large dinner cart with a white cloth draped over top and approached the cabin. He knocked. Seconds later, the door opened to reveal a fresh-faced young woman in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.
She smiled, seeming surprised by the cart. After a moment of conversation, Bianca stepped back and allowed the man to push the cart into the cabin. The door closed behind him.
Joe kept an eye on the time stamp. Fifteen minutes had passed when the cabin door opened again. The steward pushed the cart from the cabin, closed the door behind himself, and continued toward the elevator. “Back up the footage by twenty minutes and play it again at regular speed.”
They watched the footage again. When the steward pushed the cart down the corridor, Joe said, “Freeze it.” He tapped the screen and glanced at Nico. “Do you see the anomalies?”
“The covered dishes are still in exactly the same place. I doubt Bianca wolfed down her food with the steward standing over her. What else am I missing?”
He turned to Sam. “Do you see it?”
She was silent a moment as she studied the screen. “He never looks toward the camera. The steward knew where the security cam was located and kept his face turned away.”
“Anything else?” He glanced at the two security employees who shrugged in response to his question.
“The steward didn’t have difficulty pushing the cart to the cabin. When he came out again, he put his back into pushing that cart down the hallway.”
Nico frowned. “There was more weight in the cart coming out than when it went in.”
“Wait.” Caleb held up a hand. “You’re saying this guy shoved the woman under the cart and took off with her without the lady making a fuss. How would that work?”
“Easy.” Sam glanced at him. “Knock out Bianca, hogtie her, shove her under the cart on her side, whip the tablecloth down to conceal the unconscious woman, and take off.”
Joe leaned a hip against the desk. “If you’re worried about your extra cargo falling off, you secure her to the cart.”
Chip shook his head. “Too risky.”
“I don’t think so. Most of the passengers are in the dining room. If he didn’t call attention to himself, the few people who did see him would only see a steward taking dinner to a passenger who doesn’t want to eat in the dining room.”
“I’m still not sold on the idea. Let’s say you’re right and this clown stuffed the woman under the cart and took off with her. Where did he take her? She’s been gone for more than two hours. Where is she?”
“Track his movements with the security feeds,” Nico said.
“Easier said than done,” Caleb muttered. “We have cameras all over the ship except in the cabins. He could have dumped the woman in one of the unoccupied cabins and left her.”
“Easy enough to find out,” Sam said. “If the security footage doesn’t tell us what we need to know, your people can check the unoccupied cabins.”
“Mark this security footage and the timing we’ve pinpointed,” Joe said. “We need to find Bianca soon.”
Sam twisted in her seat to look at him. “Gut?”
He nodded. Kayla’s nanny was in trouble.
Chip’s fingers flew on the keyboard again. This time the security footage showed an elevator. A couple minutes after the time stamp began to move forward, the steward pushed the large dinner cart into the car and punched a button with one finger. The whole time he was in the elevator, the man averted his face from the camera.
Nico growled. “He knows where every camera is located on his route.”
“An inside job.” Joe’s hands tightened on the back of Sam’s chair. “That’s how it looks to me.”
Caleb’s jaw dropped. “You think one of us did this?”
“Makes the most sense. Think about it. Wouldn’t you or one of the other security personnel have noticed if a passenger walked around the ship noting the security cameras on a particular route?”
“I guess.” He sounded disgruntled at Joe’s logic.
Nico motioned toward the screen. “Where does he go from the elevator?” he asked Chip.
“Deck 2, port side. Take a look at this.” The security guard restarted the security footage.
The steward pushed the cart to the laundry facility door after a covert glance around, still with his head lowered to hide his face from the camera. Once he’d determined the coast was clear, he shoved the cart inside and closed the door. He reappeared five minutes later sans the cart. Head down, he headed in the opposite direction.
Joe frowned. “Where did he go from there?”
“Haven’t been able to find him yet,” Chip muttered.
Nico turned to Joe. “You and Sam go to the laundry room. I’ll stay here and help track our steward. Let me know what you find.”
“Yes, sir.” He escorted Sam from the security office and nodded toward the elevator. “We’ll conserve energy and retrace our suspect’s route on the elevator.”
“I’m not an invalid,” she protested.
“Never said you were. We know where he went with the cart and time isn’t on our side or Bianca’s.”
“Fine. If we’re trapped in that thing when a terrorist strikes, I’ll never let you live that decision down.”
“Noted.” After a short elevator ride, they turned toward the laundry facility. At the door, Joe stopped Sam and said softly, “Gloves. Just in case.” No need to derail an investigation by introducing their fingerprints. After they covered their hands and had their weapons held down at their sides, Joe opened the door to a darkened room.
Joe frowned and signaled for Sam to step to the side while he located the light switch. A moment later, light flooded the room. Multiple washers and dryers gleamed in the overhead lights. Two machines were washing loads of clothes. Two dryers were also running. No one was in the large room.
“No exit other than this door,” Sam said.
He glanced around, dread growing in his gut when he spotted the serving cart against the far wall. “Bianca is here somewhere. Take this side of the room. I’ll start at the back and work my way to you.”
As he approached the serving cart, the scent of food grew stronger. He raised the side of the white cloth and peered under the cart. Empty aside from a long strand of dark hair twined around a screw. The same color and length of Bianca’s hair. Jaw tightening, he turned toward the row of dryers.
Joe climbed on the closest machine and checked behind the row in case the steward had dumped her back there. Nothing but a few wads of lint and dust bunnies. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Sam doing the same with the bank of washing machines. When she hopped down, he figured she hadn’t found anything.
He walked to the farthest dryer and began checking inside them. Halfway through the line, he opened a dryer door to see white material similar to the material covering the serving cart.
Gut knotting, he stuck his hand inside the machine. Instead of a large load of sheets or tablecloths, Joe’s hand wrapped around a slender arm.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Sam.”
The tone in Joe’s voice had Sam twisting to look at him. The grim expression on his face told her he’d found Bianca. Sam hurried to the dryer and peered inside. The woman who had looked surprised to see the steward bringing her dinner two hours before had been stuffed inside the dryer with a load of white cloth.
She reached in and pressed her fingertips to the side of Bianca’s neck. No pulse and her skin was cooler than normal. Sam blinked back the sting of tears, frustrated that she and Joe found her too late.
Sam pulled out her flashlight and aimed the beam at the body. Bianca’s hands and feet were no longer bound, but a sticky residue remained on the wrist Sam touched and her skin was red. The steward might have used duct tape.
She focused the light on the nanny’s neck and frowned. Nothing on the n
eck to indicate she’d been strangled and no petechial hemorrhaging in Bianca’s eyes.
Sam noticed a small puncture mark. Drugged? “Can we get her out of the dryer?” Determining cause of death would be easier if she was able to examine the body out of the cramped enclosure. Leaving Bianca there also seemed wrong.
Joe ran a gentle hand down Sam’s back. “I want her out of there, too, but it’s better if we don’t. We have to let Winestock and his personnel collect what evidence they can with their limited resources. If we move her, we’ll disturb evidence and reduce the likelihood of Winestock figuring out the identity of the creep who did this to Bianca.”
“If they find him. I’m not holding out much hope.” She leaned into his touch, unashamed to take a moment to settle before doing what was needed. “We need to contact Nico. He’ll have to break the bad news to Winestock.”
“Better him than me. Winestock rubs me the wrong way. The sooner this place is processed, the better the chance of finding something to help identify the killer. The security chief needs someone at the door to keep the public from this room. I imagine the laundry room will be a popular place after dinner is over.”
Sam called Shadow’s leader. “We found her. She’s dead, Nico. We need Winestock and his crime techs.”
“How did she die?”
“She was stuffed in a dryer. Examining her is problematic without disturbing the scene. I don’t see signs of strangulation, but I discovered a puncture mark on her neck. If her cause of death is some kind of drug or poison, the ship’s doctor or a medical examiner will have to identify the substance. The tests need to be completed soon. Some drugs disappear after a certain time.”
“Understood. Expect Winestock soon.”
She grimaced. The Pacific Star’s security chief would not be happy when he arrived. Ten minutes later, Winestock strode into the laundry room with a team of two people trailing behind him, his face set in grim lines. The team members carried small black bags.
“Where is she?”
“This way.” Joe led him to the dryer in the middle of the gleaming row of machines.
Winestock crouched to peer into the interior. He glanced at Sam. “You checked her?”
“Enough to determine she was beyond my help.”
“Do you know what caused her death?”
“Hard to say with her still in the dryer. The ship’s doctor might be able to determine Bianca’s cause of death when he examines her. Have him check the puncture mark on her neck. Looks like Bianca was drugged.”
Winestock stood. “No question this is foul play?”
“No way.” Joe folded his arms across his chest. “Chip and Caleb helped us track the movements of a man dressed in a steward’s uniform.” He pointed at the dinner cart at the other end of the room. “The steward pushed that cart to Charlaine’s door and knocked. He gained entrance by using the food. Fifteen minutes later, the man left with the cart. The food dishes were in exactly the same place on the surface of the cart and the cart was much heavier than when he brought it to the cabin. You can see all of this on the security footage Chip marked for you.”
“We have a murderer on board the ship.”
“Yes, sir, we do.”
“Do I need your prints to eliminate you and Sam?”
Sam held up her gloved hands as did Joe.
“Would it do any good to ask you to volunteer your prints anyway?”
Joe smiled. “No.”
Winestock frowned. “Your people are that good?”
“The best you would get is our names and a few facts. The military scrubbed my missions. Fortress did the rest and blocked access to Sam’s background as well. Our company protects the identities of its operatives.”
The security chief froze. “Wait. You were Special Forces?”
“Yes, sir.”
A soft whistle, then he pulled out his phone. “I need to inform the captain that we have a suspicious death on board and a possible suspect among the crew.”
“You can’t think it’s one of us. Maybe this fake steward is a civilian who stole one of our uniforms,” one of Winestock’s employees said.
“Check the security feed before you decide,” Joe said. “This man knew where the security cameras were located. It’s possible the killer is a civilian, but wouldn’t someone notice a stranger in restricted areas? More important, how would he learn where every security camera was located without calling attention to himself?”
The chief’s face hardened. “I’ll look at the security feed after I notify the captain and help my team with Ms. White.” He turned to his two employees. “Start processing the scene. I’ll let the ship’s doctor know, but his priority is the four-month-old baby he’s treating.”
“Yes, sir.”
Winestock looked at Sam and Joe. “Stay available in case I have more questions.” He hesitated, then sighed. “Look, I’m short-staffed right now with two crime scenes. Do you mind helping my people look for this steward?”
“We planned to offer our assistance,” Sam said. “We’ll do what we can to help but your people will probably be the ones to track this man down. You know the ship far better than we do.”
“I appreciate your assistance. Keep me posted on your progress. If you find this man, hold him for me to interrogate.”
With a nod, Joe grabbed Sam’s mike bag and escorted her from the laundry center. When they were far enough away, Joe said, “Our unit should call Maddox from the suite. He needs to warn Hollingbrook to expect more fallout.”
“Do you think this is connected to his daughter’s death?”
He slanted her a look. “Do you believe anyone would have this much bad luck in the space of two days? Someone is out to hurt Hollingbrook from every side.”
“Personal or professional motive?”
Joe frowned. “It has elements of both.”
“Maybe we should look at competitors.” Sam hoped the pool of potential suspects would be smaller than cruise line employees and Hollingbrook’s relatives.
They returned to the security office. Nico turned. “No luck finding our steward. He disappeared after he went toward the crew quarters.”
“How did he do that?” Sam asked.
Chip glanced over his shoulder, a scowl marring his face. “If he’s one of the crew, he knows the ship inside and out, including passageways that don’t have security cameras.”
And that pretty much shot holes in the argument for a civilian killer. How would a guest on the ship disappear that easily? “Where was he last seen?”
“Near the engine room,” Caleb said. “There’s a passageway on the aft side. No cameras in there.”
“Go check it out,” Nico told Sam and Joe.
“We’ll drop off Sam’s mike bag first, then go to the passageway.” Joe glanced at Caleb. “Do we need temporary ID to access that area?”
“I have some here.” Chip reached into an unsecured drawer and pulled out two generic red badges like the ones the security personnel wore but without a photo on the surface.
Nico scowled. “Do the badges in that drawer gain the wearer access to restricted areas?”
A hard swallow. “Yes, sir.”
“Why are they in an unsecured drawer?”
“Someone is always in here.”
“You’re telling me you haven’t visited the head since your shift started?”
“Well, sure. Caleb was here, though. He covered for me. No one could get in here and take a badge without one of us knowing about it.” Chip shot a desperate look at his fellow employee. “Isn’t that right?”
Caleb’s face, however, told a different story. “A passenger dropped by and asked for help finding the fitness center.” His skin flushed.
Sam guessed the passenger was a beautiful young female.
“How long were you out of the office to help this passenger?” Nico demanded.
“Five minutes, maybe ten.”
“When you returned, was Chip in the office?”
A head shake in answer.
Joe eyed Chip. “Long visit to the head, buddy. You sick?”
“It was break time. I went for coffee and a snack.”
“In other words, your office was unmanned for at least five minutes, maybe more.”
“I locked the door behind me,” Caleb protested. “No one could break in to steal a badge.”
Nico looked at Sam. “You have your equipment on you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Want to demonstrate?”
She smiled. “Love to.” Sam left the security office and waited in the hall for Joe to lock the door from the inside. She grabbed her lock picks from her pocket, slid the slender tips into the lock, and went to work. In seconds, the tumblers turned and Sam opened the door.
Both security men stared at her with gaping mouths.
“Of the five members of my team, Sam is the slowest at picking locks,” Nico said. “She broke in the office in under thirty seconds. I’ll ask you again. Why are you keeping badges in an unsecured drawer?”
Caleb handed two temporary badges to Joe and Sam. “We won’t be anymore, sir.”
Nico looked at Sam and Joe. “Report what you find. I’ll be here going through the security feed, looking for stills to send Zane. Grab a meal after you return the badges. Mercy is still doing her demonstration. The team will meet in your suite when the demo is over.”
“Yes, sir.” Joe escorted Sam from the security office. “Their level of training makes me want to carry around every weapon in my arsenal,” he muttered.
“Same here.” Just the idea of having to depend on Winestock’s personnel to protect her in the event of a takeover or attack made Sam’s skin crawl.
They dropped off Sam’s mike bag before continuing to the engine room and following the probable path the killer had taken. Joe opened the door to the passageway and stepped inside first. “Staircase.”
