“So what’s next?” I asked. “There’s a cooking class down in one of the catering kitchens that I was going to photograph. We might be able to sweet talk them out of a few tasty treats if we get there before they finish.”
“Oh, wow, that sounds like fun!” Her face lit up and then instantly fell again when she looked down at her watch. “But… I probably shouldn’t. I have to work a short shift this afternoon when all of the passengers start getting back to the ship. And I know I’m going to lose track of time if I start doing something fun now.”
“Ah, well, maybe next time,” I said. Even though we’d spent the better part of the day together, I was actually a little disappointed that our fun afternoon had to come to an end. It had been too long since I’d taken so many hours off work in the middle of the day to relax and pamper myself. And Cece had been great company. “Try not to work too hard this afternoon.”
She laughed. “No need to worry about that. I’m just going to gather some laundry, turn down some beds, and call it a night.”
We said our goodbyes, and I made my way—slowly, carefully, without exerting myself too much in case I ran into Ethan or Dr. Ryan—down to one of the catering kitchens. Situated just off the cavernous main kitchen and much smaller in size, it was still an impressive sight. With gleaming stainless steel prep tables and shiny new appliances, it was no doubt enough to put smiles on the faces of the most demanding, discerning chefs in the world.
Except for one.
Greg Washington, the ship’s head chef, gave me a barely perceptible nod as I slipped into the kitchen and walked along the back wall to observe the class’s creations. I was pretty sure that the only reason he even let me in the door was because I’d told him upfront that I’d be featuring the best food from his cooking class on the ship’s social media feeds.
Not that I thought he disliked me—or at least not me in particular—but I was pretty sure Greg wasn’t overly fond of… well, hardly anyone. If he did have friends on board, he kept it a well-guarded secret.
I started snapping a few pictures while he critiqued a lopsided cake. I winced when the poor thing finally toppled all the way over then hungrily wondered if the cake happened to taste better than it looked. It had to, right?
I was no expert, and certainly no chef, but I couldn’t recall the last time I’d made a cake that hadn’t been delicious—and I’d made a few ugly cakes in my day.
As I was snapping random pics of the class, my lens landed on a familiar face—well, a familiar back of someone’s head—and I had to stifle a gasp when I realized how cozy that person was with the young man sitting next to her.
Babs Holliday.
But who was the man? And not that I was judging, but why was she sitting and laughing and batting her heavily made-up eyes at a man who was half her husband’s age? Her way-too-recently-deceased husband at that.
For goodness sake, we still hadn’t disembarked the ship yet, and she already seemed to be moving on with her life?
Not that I was judging, but… come on. And right here in public?
Several seconds and a few dozen snaps of the same incriminating photo had passed before I could make myself stop staring. My mind was racing and tying itself into knots right along with my stomach.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that the class had just ended and people were starting to get up out of their seats, I probably would have stood there staring with my mouth hanging open for another few minutes while I tried in vain to collect my thoughts.
Before Babs and her, uh… friend could see me, I darted back out the door and quickly moved back around the corner where I could still see the exit and all of the people filtering out but they couldn’t see me.
I mentally counted down the seconds and minutes in my head as I watched and waited. Finally, after the entire rest of the class had emptied out of the kitchen, Babs and her friend appeared in the doorway. I ducked back as they glanced my direction then watched as they whispered and quietly laughed back and forth before walking the opposite direction toward the Grand Atrium.
This was crazy.
Insane.
There had to be some kind of rational, reasonable explanation… right?
Which obviously meant I had to follow them. Even if my own curiosity hadn’t been extremely piqued, that was just good detective work. I was pretty sure even Ethan would have agreed this was more important than getting more rest and quiet time back in my cabin.
Once we’d made it out into the atrium, it was easier to get closer without being noticed. I was so close as we crossed the crowded area that I could even hear snippets of their conversation if I listened closely.
In all honesty, I probably could have gotten even closer than I did. From the moment they left the catering kitchen until they had crossed the entire Grand Atrium, they didn’t seem to notice anyone or anything else around them. The whole ship could have been sinking and they probably would have still been laughing and talking loudly without seeming to have a care in the world.
They stopped in front of the doors that led out onto the main deck, and I half-turned to preoccupy myself with a cubist painting of something that sort of resembled a colorful fish with an angry face.
“Should we go ahead and do the—” I strained to hear what the man was saying, but there was too much noise around us as people pushed past on either side. “Or we could maybe—”
“Oh, definitely!” Babs clapped her hands together. I turned to see her nodding and batting her eyes as she looked up at him. “We have to do the couples massage. And then I think we should do some—”
I frowned as I lost the thread of their conversation again. What was that last word?
Shopping?
Be-bopping?
Mopping?
I watched as they walked over to the bank of elevators that would take them up to the spa deck. Couples massage. I’d heard those words loud and clear.
Maybe he was just a nice young man who was showing kindness to a grieving widow. With a massage. A couples massage.
I sighed as the elevator doors closed and they disappeared. Maybe there really was a good explanation that I hadn’t thought of yet.
Or maybe they were really a couple.
A couple who didn’t have anything—like a pesky rich husband—standing in their way anymore.
Chapter Twenty
If someone had told me this morning that I would have spent my day getting a seaweed facial with Cece and then following Babs and her secret friend around the ship all evening, I would have laughed and said they must have had me confused with someone else. Someone whose life was quite a bit more exciting than mine.
Yet there I was, watching from a distance as they walked hand-in-hand back to Bab’s suite after their massage and some shopping.
And okay, maybe an hours-long stakeout while I should have been resting—or even working—was a little difficult to justify since I hadn’t actually seen them do anything terribly incriminating, but I had a hunch. A feeling in my stomach that I’d learned not to ignore. And that hunch was telling me to keep watching and waiting until an opportunity presented itself.
I still wasn’t sure what kind of opportunity I was waiting on, but I had faith that I’d recognize it when the moment arrived.
I’d guessed that they might go into Babs’ suite together, but they surprised me by stopping outside her door and saying a quick goodbye.
A goodbye that was punctuated with a more-than-friendly kiss.
Then she slipped inside the room and he jammed his hands into his pockets and slowly meandered down the corridor back toward the elevators. I followed him—because of course I did—back down to the main deck and out into the Grand Atrium for the fifth or sixth time so far that afternoon and evening. Between my initial sleuthing and their round of shopping, I was pretty sure we’d covered most of the ship a few times over.
I was getting more exercise than I’d had ever since the attack a few days ago, and I had to admit it felt go
od to be moving around again even though Ethan and Dr. Ryan probably would have said it was still a little too soon.
When we both reached the main deck and he made a beeline for the nearest bar, I instantly knew that all of my patience had finally paid off. That was the opportunity I’d been waiting for, and I wasn’t about to let it pass without taking full advantage of the situation.
Without Babs on his arm, I didn’t have to worry about being recognized, so I walked right up to the bar where he was standing and ordered a drink.
“I’d like a screwdriver, please,” I said to the bartender. “But could you hold the vodka?”
The bartender nodded. “So… just orange juice, then?”
I grinned. “I’m trying to make it an early night.”
As if on cue, Babs’ friend turned to me and raised his glass. “I guess I’m having sort of an early night, too. I need something a little harder than orange juice, though.”
Jackpot!
He was looking at me and speaking to me, and there didn’t seem to be even a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes. The hard part, arranging a seemingly-random meeting with this guy, was already over, and I’d passed with flying colors.
Now I just had to figure out how to get some information out of him without giving myself away.
“I could have probably handled a little more in my, ah… early twenties as well,” I said, giving him an appraising look now that I was standing so close to him.
Judging from the way his T-shirt was stretched tightly across his biceps and chest, it was probably fair to assume that he worked out on a regular basis. And with his golden tan and easy smile, he did have a certain charm—sort of like an eager puppy, happy and carefree.
And even without knowing him at all, it was easy to see that he was the complete opposite of Rock Holliday. Which was probably the point when it came to Babs’ obvious attraction to him.
“My girlfriend says the same thing,” he nodded with that big smile. “I tried to get her to come down here with me tonight, but she said she needed her beauty sleep. She said I’d understand in about twenty years.”
He laughed and shrugged like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, while I could only sigh. I wasn’t twenty years older than this fresh young pup, but he was sort of making me feel that way.
“Ah, your girlfriend…” I paused and pretended to look thoughtful for a moment. “You know, now that you mention it, I think I might have seen the two of you together earlier! Sophisticated, glamorous woman?”
His smile grew even wider and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Total puppy dog in total puppy love. “Yeah, that’s her. My Babs. She’s too good to me, especially for something that wasn’t even supposed to be—” He cut himself off and swallowed hard as his smile faded a little. “Ah, anyway, yeah, that was her.”
I nodded politely while I tried to quickly unpack everything he’d just said. Or, more accurately, everything he hadn’t said. Because I was pretty sure that whatever he’d almost shared with me would have been pretty juicy. I just had to keep gently prying and prodding until he spilled some more.
Or maybe an even more direct approach would work with this guy.
“Sometimes it’s the relationships we don’t necessarily expect to work that seem to work the best,” I offered, tossing out the bait to see if he would bite. “Like maybe something that started as a little fun with an older woman, perhaps…”
He stopped mid-drink to nod emphatically. “Yes!” His eyes were wide as if I’d just somehow seen into his soul with my little nugget of wisdom that could have just as easily been gleaned from a fortune cookie. “That’s right! Babs and I were never supposed to be anything but an affair—er, I mean… well.” He sighed to himself. “You know how that goes. She was married. I was her trainer at the gym. Neither of us was looking for anything serious. Not really anything at all, honestly. And then it just…”
“Happened?” I finished for him. And no, I didn’t know how that sort of thing went, thank you very much, but I’d seen enough made-for-TV movies to know how that sort of thing usually ended. This probably wasn’t the best time to point that out, though. Not until I got as much information from this lovestruck guy as I could. “Sometimes things happen,” I added, shrugging and trying to sound nonchalant. “Did you say she was married when the two of you met? It must be serious if she left her husband for you.”
Of course, I knew that Babs hadn’t ended her marriage to Rock. I doubted if Rock had even known about the affair, though that was purely speculation on my part. For all I knew, he could have known about it and given it his blessing. He could have been having an affair of his own.
The fact that I was standing there talking to this naive young man about a relationship that I never would have guessed existed was proof enough that things were never quite as they seemed from the outside looking in.
“Yeah, she was married for a while,” he acknowledged, then winced a little. “She’s a widow now, though, so that’s what makes me think we might start getting a little more serious, you know? Like, it was never really possible before, but now…”
His voice trailed off while he took another drink. “Have you talked to her about it?” I asked. “About the future, I mean. Do you know what she plans to do with her life now that her, um, husband isn’t around?”
“Her plans for her life?” His face scrunched up as if the idea had never occurred to him before. And maybe it hadn’t. I sort of got the impression that this guy didn’t think of much beyond his current situation and his next protein shake—but then again, why would he? He was young and handsome with the whole world at his fingertips. I would have been more shocked if he hadn’t been at least a little self-centered. “We haven’t really talked about her life plans or whatever,” he confessed. “But she’s loaded. She could really do anything she wanted or—oh! You know, she has mentioned being more involved with her husband’s businesses.” He nodded and gave me a satisfied look. “So yeah, I bet that’s what she’ll be focused on.”
I was thankful for the fact that I’d only been drinking orange juice. He’d already given me some pretty valuable information, and I felt like we had only just started to scratch the surface. There was so much more I wanted to know, but I had to be careful.
Sure, he was drinking and apparently had very little filter when it came to discussing his and Babs’ personal business, but I still had no way of knowing when he might decide he’d had enough of telling all of his secrets to a random stranger in a bar.
“That’s interesting,” I mused out loud. “If she wasn’t involved in her husband’s businesses before, do you really think she’ll be interested in running them now?”
I didn’t necessarily expect him to answer, but it was a question I’d been mulling over in the back of my mind ever since Ethan, Sam, and I had spoken with Babs the morning after the murder. Would the prospect of inheriting her husband’s business ventures be another potential motive? Inheriting all of his money was one thing, but for her to want control of the actual businesses? I wasn’t totally convinced just by the one conversation I’d had with her.
“Oh, yeah,” he answered immediately. “For sure. She’ll want to keep the yoga business for sure, anyway. She’s always talking about how much potential it has and how she would have done things totally different if she’d been in charge. I think she’ll be a natural.”
I took a long drink of my orange juice to mask my surprise. He’d just inadvertently answered my question, at least partially.
Babs wanted a voice in how Roar Power Yoga was being run. She was looking forward to it. She said, according to her own boyfriend, that she would have done things differently from Rock if she had been in charge.
I really just had one more question, but it was unfortunately one her boyfriend couldn’t answer. Was an unhappy marriage and a bit of ambition enough to justify murdering her husband?
Chapter Twenty-One
The first thing I heard when I walked ou
t of the bar was the conga music filtering in from the main deck. All of the things that had just been in my mind—Babs, her boyfriend, Rock, the murder, all of those things—were instantly drowned out by the fun beat and the sounds of people laughing and having a good time out by the pool.
My feet began carrying me toward the music, and I couldn’t help but smile as I saw the first glimpse of the party out on the deck. I took a deep breath and inhaled the crisp, salty night air as a long conga line snaked past me.
Someone motioned for me to join, and I hurried to squeeze into the fast-moving line, doing my best to keep the beat as I tossed my head back and laughed a real, deep, genuine laugh for the first time in… well, I don’t even know how long.
This was the kind of fun, carefree vibe I missed taking part in on the ship. Not that these activities haven’t been taking place—there were always dozens of activities going on all day and night, seven days a week—but I’d been so caught up with the investigation and then recovering from my altercation out on the deck that I’d barely been able to keep up with my day-to-day job tasks. This night was a reminder that I needed to make a little time for myself every once in a while.
And then, while I was at it, I needed to make sure I found more time to spend with Ethan, too.
I made it a full lap around the pool with the conga line before the responsible side of my brain kicked in and persuaded me to stop and take some quick pictures of the crowd for the ship’s social media feeds. Weaving my way through the boisterous groups of people, I finally found a spot near the stairs where I could get some good panoramic views.
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