Cruise Chaos

by A. R. Winters

  I walked around the room to give the appearance that I was mingling, while actually trying not to engage with anyone. With my head feeling like an untuned television, I wasn’t in the mood to socialize.

  Near the back of the room, I found someone else in seemingly the same situation. Mary Mead was sitting at a high-backed chair along the back wall, with her envelopes and clues resting on her knees. She seemed to be staring out vacantly across the room, while she fiddled absentmindedly with her Celtic necklace.

  There was a chair next to her, and since she didn’t look like she’d be too much hard work to chat with, I wearily sat down next to her.

  “Can’t you focus today?” I said, nodding toward her envelope.

  Mary looked down and shrugged. “Oh, I think I figured it all out already.”

  “Really? Are you sure?” It didn’t seem likely to me, as there were still a couple of big clues to go before they should be able to work out who our murderer was in the event.

  “I think it’s because I’m a murder mystery writer myself. I’ve spent so long studying them that I can usually figure them out right away.”

  “Amazing,” I said, mildly impressed. Only mildly, because I didn’t know whether Mary actually had the right answer—and the right reasoning—yet. I just had her word to go on.

  “I feel so sorry for Harley,” said Mary with a sad shake of her head. I began to think that perhaps she hadn’t solved the mystery, but in fact like many of our other guests she was more focused on the real life happenings aboard the ship than the mystery we were supposed to be solving.

  “It’s an awful, awful thing to have happened,” I said in agreement.

  Mary picked up her clue envelope and began to tap it against her leg idly, as if in thought.

  “You know, Edward was going to introduce me to his literary agent. I thought this was it, you know? It was going to be my big break—an introduction from one of the greatest living mystery writers. But now it turns out he’s a murderer. Guess I’ll have to make my own connections.”

  I gave her arm a squeeze. “I’m sure you don’t need his help anyway. If you just keep at it, you’ll make it on your own.”

  Mary looked down sadly.

  “I guess so.”

  The door to the lounge swung open quickly enough to draw my eye to the sudden movement. I was surprised to see Cece hurry in, and then stop to scan the room, looking for someone.

  “Good luck, Mary,” I said.

  I stood up so Cece could see me. Her eyes locked on me. I was right; it was me she was looking for. My friend hurried over.

  “It’s Harley. She’s awake.”

  “How do you know?” I asked. “Weren’t you working?”

  “Working on Dr. Ryan,” she said with a wink. “Come on!”

  After apologetically asking Sam to handle things in the lounge, I hurried after Cece to sickbay.

  What would Harley have to say about the events of the night before?

  Chapter 26

  Cece and I hurried through the ship to the sickbay. As it wasn’t a part of the ship that passengers visited for pleasure, it was located in an internal section without any outside views or windows. All the prime locations were given over to the cabins and the entertainment areas of the ship.

  When we entered, the receptionist recognized us, or at least Cece anyway, and waved us through to the back where the treatment rooms were.

  It was also where Felicity Bull would be stored. I tried not to think about that though. The thought of the unlikeable woman shoved in a cold drawer and stored until we returned to port was more than unsettling, though at least Ethan had locked up the killer, Edward Dane, the night before.

  There were footsteps behind us as we entered. I had a quick look and saw Ethan Lee hurrying in. I wanted to know what he’d got out of Edward, but there was no time for that. We’d hear what Harley had to say first.

  “This way,” said Cece and I quickly followed her to a door labeled Treatment Room 3.

  When we entered, Harley, propped up with pillows, was sitting up in bed with a big white bandage wrapped all around her head. If it weren’t for the massive bundle of white cloth wrapping her head, it would have been hard to tell she was injured. Her eyes were alert and alight with anger.

  Dr. Ryan Wilson was standing nearby and he looked rather uncomfortable, but pleased to see us. I guessed his patient wasn’t exactly a model of patience and understanding.

  “Harley, how are you feeling?” I asked.

  “I have a headache and I’m angry. Don’t you have any security aboard this ship?”

  Ethan and I exchanged glances. I didn’t know what he’d learned from Edward so I figured it was time for me to take a back seat. He could handle her for the moment.

  “I am in charge of security on the ship,” said Ethan. “We do our best, but we can’t keep everything and everyone under surveillance the entire time. It’s not the atmosphere that Swan likes to encourage aboard its ships. We have…” Ethan stopped himself from saying your husband “…the perpetrator in the brig though.”

  I liked the way Ethan avoided stating that it was Edward he had locked up. It would surely make the atmosphere uncomfortable.

  “You caught her?” said Harley with a surprised sniff.

  Ethan and I exchanged curious glances.

  “Her?” I ventured.

  “Yes, that woman with the hat,” said Harley.

  Approaching her, I gently took her arm. She was still confused.

  “Harley, it wasn’t a woman. It was a man. It—”

  “No, it wasn’t. I remember quite clearly. Now what man are you talking about?”

  “Your husband,” said Ethan. “You were hit over the head with his cane.”

  Harley shook her head. “Was I? So what? She must have stolen his cane to try and frame him.” She paused with a frown on lips. “You’re not... you’re not saying you’ve put Edward, in the brig, have you?”

  “All the evidence pointed toward him having done it,” I said somewhat defensively. I wasn’t sure if it was in defense of me or Ethan.

  “You must release him at once. At once! It wasn’t him!”

  Harley had pushed herself up into an even straighter position and her cheeks were rapidly becoming redder and redder.

  “Mrs. Dane, could you please tell us your version of events? Then I’ll see to your husband immediately.”

  Ethan was good with words. He didn’t say he was going to release Edward, only that he would ‘see to’ him. That gave him options. Surely once we’d explained to Harley what we had found, she would understand why her husband had to be detained.

  Harley flicked her eyes back and forth over me and Ethan. I noticed that Cece and the doctor had slipped out of the room. It looked like poor Dr. Ryan Wilson had already suffered some of her ire and he and Cece had decided to avoid any more of it if they could. Or maybe it was just an excuse to spend some time together.

  “It was that woman. The one with the big hat. The one who works with the food.”

  Ethan gave me a questioning glance. He obviously didn’t know who she was talking about.

  “You mean Betty Dwayne. She works in catering.” Ethan still looked a little confused. “At least I think she does. She helped out, taking Felicity Bull’s role in the mystery as well.”

  “Go on,” said Ethan to Harley. His tone was even more serious than it had been before. “Please continue with what you remember.”

  “I saw her, just ahead of me, while I was on my way back to my room to get my notebook. It was a lovely evening and I was getting some fresh air, and she obviously had the same idea—at least that’s what I initially thought. She was the last person I saw. She was ahead of me, then, poof, she disappeared. Not long after…” Harley rubbed at the bandage on her head. “Whack, I was out like a light.”

  “So you didn’t actually see her attack you.” I walked over closer to Harley, and rested a hand on her bed. “You just saw her a minute or two before?”


  Harley took the edge of a white sheet and pushed it down the bed, like she was too hot.

  “I saw her just before I was hit. Who else could it have been? There was no one around.”

  I nodded uncertainly. “Harley. This may be difficult to hear but…”

  I looked at Ethan for guidance, he winced but gave a nod for me to continue.

  “You were hit with Edward’s cane.”

  Harley’s eyebrows raised slightly. She didn’t have the shocked expression I had expected.

  “Oh, you found it then? That’s good. I think he left it on the pool deck. He lost it somewhere yesterday, anyway. That Betty woman must have stolen it.”

  “Your husband also said that he had lost his cane,” said Ethan.

  I stared at him in shock. The Danes’ stories were matching. But if it wasn’t Edward Dane that had hit Harley on the head…

  “Adrienne,” said Ethan calmly, but I could detect an urgency underneath. “A word, a moment?”

  I followed Ethan out of the treatment room and shut the door behind me. We were in a kind of vestibule area, from which the various treatment rooms lead off. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of antiseptic; it was even stronger out here than it was in Harley’s room. They must have just cleaned.

  “What did you say the name of the hat lady in catering was?”

  “Betty Dwayne. I think she’s new.”

  Ethan already had his phone in front of him and was tapping at it urgently. With a shake of his head he shoved it back into his pocket.

  “Adrienne, there is no employee named Betty Dwayne. I was pretty certain there wasn’t, but I just checked.”

  That didn’t make any sense. I certainly hadn’t hallucinated her.

  “Betty’s just a short form, surely. It’s an abbreviation of Elizabeth, isn’t it?”

  “There’s no one with the last name of Dwayne on this ship. I just checked the Swan database too. The only person with the family name Dwayne is a man, and he works for HR at head office.”

  “Oh, no.”

  I tried to process it. What did it mean? Who was this woman and why was she pretending to work here?

  “It looks like we’ve got an impostor on board. Have you seen her today?”

  “I… don’t know. I can’t remember if she was in the lounge when I left.” Frantically, I tried to recall all the faces of everyone I’d seen, but I couldn’t.

  Something came back to me. Something that hadn’t seemed strange at the time, but in retrospect seemed relevant.

  “I think I saw a hat like Betty’s before.”

  “Where?” asked Ethan. I could see from the expression on his face that he couldn’t quite see how it was relevant.

  “It was in… Felicity Bull’s room. After she died.”

  He stared at me for several seconds. I’d just admitted to breaking into a dead passenger’s cabin.

  “I don’t even want to know how you know that.”

  I grinned awkwardly.

  “Come on. Let’s say goodbye to Harley and track down this Betty—or whatever her real name is.”

  When we arrived at the former cabin of Felicity Bull, Ethan let us in using his master keycard. The door swung open and I peered inside, wondering how the room might have changed. One immediate difference was that there was no longer the smell of corn chips.

  “Someone has definitely been in here.”

  “How can you tell?” Asked Ethan with a frown. We were barely one step inside.

  “Last time I was here, there were a bunch of empty bags of corn chips. They were spread all over the room.”

  “That’s odd,” said Ethan shaking his head. “Felicity had put in a complaint. She said that she was allergic to corn and everything derived from it.”

  “I know. That’s what I thought last time I was here. But I just put it down to her pretending to have an allergy to see how the customer service was in that situation.”

  “Yes, with that woman, I can see why that may have been a thought.” Ethan walked forward while he spoke, carefully looking around the room.

  I looked for the box that Cece had pulled out last time. It had been under the table before, but now it was sitting on the bed, with all the files emptied out over the comforter.

  “Someone’s been here. They’ve been through these files. They were in the box before.”

  Ethan stared down at them but didn’t comment. We continued looking around the room. It was obvious that Betty wasn’t here.

  “I think,” said Ethan carefully. “That we have a stowaway aboard.”

  “A stowaway?”

  Ethan rolled his shoulders back in a stretch. “That’s right. It’s something you have to be aware of when you work on cruise ships. Sometimes people sneak on board, hoping to get a free cruise.”

  “A free cruise, and to murder someone?”

  “That isn’t usually part of their plan.”

  I put my hands on my hips while I thought.

  “I bet Felicity caught her. She found out that this woman had sneaked on board, and so this Betty killed her to keep the secret.”

  Ethan began to pace around the room. He didn’t seem convinced by what I was saying.

  “Yes, that could be what happened.”

  “Do you have any better ideas?”

  It seemed obvious to me.

  Then again, it had seemed obvious to me that Edward was throwing Harley overboard. And it had seemed obvious that Harley was going to kill Edward. And then it had also seemed obvious that Edward had whacked Harley over the head with his cane. Perhaps I shouldn’t be quite so confident. But this time, it really did seem like the most obvious explanation.

  “I don’t know. We need more information. It certainly doesn’t look like this Betty was up to anything good, though.”

  I looked around the room, picturing it first with Felicity resident, and then with Betty after Felicity had been killed. “Imagine sleeping in a dead person’s cabin.”

  Ethan took a step back and seemed to examine the room anew after my comment. He winced, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “Some people.”

  “It looks like she’s gone.”

  “Yes, it does. I’m going to check the security cameras and see if we can’t pull a picture of Betty from one of the feeds, and I’ll get it sent out to my guys.”

  “Want me to send it out to the whole ship? Tell people to be on the lookout for a murderer?”

  I knew his answer before he told me. Swan never likes any bad publicity. And publicly calling for guests to look for a murderer would definitely count as bad publicity.

  “I think we’ll hold off on that for the moment. We’ll alert the staff only, but it needs to be kept quiet. You know what Swan is like.”

  We closed the door behind us with a solid thunk that sounded alarmingly final.

  “I’ve got to go and let Edward out. I think he’s in the clear for now. You should probably get back to the murder mystery.”

  “Yep, Sam will kill me if I’m here much longer.”

  “We’ll do that dinner soon. Right?”

  “Yeah, we’ll do that.” If no more murderers or dead bodies get in the way, I wanted to add but managed to hold back.

  As I walked away, I thought to myself, well, Adrienne, you’ve messed up again. How many different people was I going to accuse of being the murderer on this trip? I wouldn’t get it wrong again. I couldn’t. I’d be the laughing stock of the ship—but worse than that, I’d lose the respect of First Officer Hot Stuff.

  Chapter 27

  Sam had handled things admirably while I had been away, and everything seemed to be under control. I got there just in time for the guests to be dismissed for lunch. I slipped between the guests as they were making their exit and caught up with Sam near the back of the lounge.

  “How’d you do?” I asked her as the last of our detectives filed out of the room.

  “Pretty good, but they keep talking about Edward and Harley instead of the murder mys
tery.”

  I gave her a playful supportive punch on the arm.

  “Yeah, I don’t think there’s much we can do about that. All we can do is put on the best murder mystery we can. If they want to talk about the other goings-on, we can’t stop them.

  “How did you get on?” asked Sam curiously. “Is Harley okay?”

  “Oh, she’s more than okay. She’s feeling much better and she’s pretty mad at being attacked. The only problem is,” I lowered my voice and whispered into Sam’s ear, “it wasn’t Edward.”

  “What!?” said Sam, drawing a number of stares over the shoulder from the last few guests.

  I took Sam by the arm and dragged her right to the back of the room where we huddled in close for a conference. After making sure no one was listening in, I explained to her what had happened that morning.

  “So,” said Sam when I’d covered most of it, “Betty was a stowaway? I didn’t know they even still had stowaways, it sounds so... old-fashioned.”

  “I know, right? And she was sleeping in Felicity Bull’s room after she died. How messed up is that?”

  We companionably agreed that this Betty Dwayne woman was clearly unhinged for hiding in a dead woman’s cabin, and thus, it seemed pretty likely that she was also the cause of Felicity’s death.

  “When was the last time you saw her?” I asked Sam.

  She hmmed in thought for a moment.

  “I think by the pool, yesterday? I don’t really know. For a fake worker, she’s not doing much fake work. She should be fake fired.”

  I laughed, but this was serious. She wasn’t just a stowaway; she was also probably a killer.

  BZZZ.

  Sam looked down at my phone at the same time as me. We both saw what it said on the screen: Ethan.

  “Hot Stuff wants you.” Sam gave me a half-knowing, half-jealous grin.

  “Not as much as that pool boy wants you,” I said with a smirk.