Sleeping With the Fishes (A Deadline Cozy Mystery Book 6)

by Sonia Parin

  “I haven’t seen you around.”

  “I’m a stand-in for Crystal Reid.”

  “Oh... I suppose that makes sense.”

  It did? The woman didn’t even bat an eyelash. How could she be so relaxed when one of their own had met with an untimely end?

  “We spent months trying to decide how we were going to commemorate the event. Lillian insisted on symmetry.”

  “Symmetry?”

  “For the photo. We didn’t want to just huddle together and smile for the birdie. Anyway, we voted on ten different layouts and finally agreed on five rows of twenty. I’m number thirty-seven. What number do you have?”

  “I haven’t been given one.”

  “Lillian,” the woman hollered, “She doesn’t have a number.”

  Eve shrunk into her chair but as Lillian approached, she sprung back upright and lifted her chin.

  Lillian’s eyes narrowed.

  Eve thought she caught a hint of accusation.

  “You came.”

  Why did she sound surprised? She hadn’t been given a choice. Had she?

  Eve nodded. “Of course. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. It sounds like fun.”

  And the Fake Enthusiasm award goes to...

  Lillian handed her a square piece of paper. “Pin this to your waist.”

  Number fifty.

  Eve did a quick mental calculation.

  Twenty per row. Five rows.

  She’d be right smack in the middle.

  She imagined Crystal insisting on taking centre stage. But how had she managed to secure the prime position? Just how much power had she held?

  “Everyone is expected on the stage in fifteen minutes. They’ll call out your number. Don’t be late.”

  Lillian held her gaze for a moment. Eve supposed she wanted a response from her, but all Eve could think about was asking her if she’d killed Crystal.

  Sure, I’ll be there. By the way, Lillian... did you kill Crystal?

  Eve gave a small nod and waited for Lillian to leave. When she did, Eve sank back into her chair. She didn’t dare cross the woman. Somehow, she had to figure out how to make a beeline toward the heart of the matter and confront her. After all, Lillian had been earmarked as a person of interest.

  A tap on her padded shoulder had her looking up.

  “I’m Martina and I’m going to transform you. Tip your chin up and sit still.” Martina took a moment to study her face and then set to work.

  Eve watched in utter amazement as her face became unrecognizable. Her eyes lost their wide-eyed... surprised expression and took on a vixen slant and, with one masterful stroke of a brush, she acquired high cheekbones.

  It took all her willpower to snap out of her stupor and remember she had a mission to accomplish.

  “Did you do Crystal Reid’s makeup?”

  Martina nodded. “You have similar eyes, although you have a slight deer caught in headlights look. Relax.”

  “I heard there was some bad blood between her and a few people in the group.”

  “That’s nothing new. Get a bunch of women together and there’s bound to be a bit of hen pecking.”

  “Did it ever get out of control?”

  “I witnessed a few tantrums.”

  “Really? Between Crystal and...”

  “Everyone.”

  That didn’t help.

  “She liked to pull her weight around.” Martina shrugged. “Then again, she could afford it.”

  “Are you saying there was money involved?”

  “Of course. She picked up the tab.”

  “For meals?” Eve asked.

  “For everything.”

  Eve’s eyes widened in astonishment. “The cruise?”

  Martina gave a distracted nod. “She always made a point of letting everyone know.”

  Eve made a rough calculation. Crystal’s contribution should have put her on a pedestal. Yet she appeared to have made more enemies than friends.

  Moments later, Martina applied a generous dab of fire engine red to her lips. “Perfect. Don’t bite your lips.”

  Eve was about to say she wasn’t a lip biter when she had to fight back the urge to nibble the edge of her lip.

  Martina leaned down and whispered, “And watch your step.”

  “What?” Eve asked, her wary expression back in place.

  “Competition is stiff. Just watch yourself.”

  Surely everyone would want everyone else to look their best in a group photo.

  The thought faded as Genie returned. She pinned Eve’s hair back and placed a plain white turban on her head.

  So far, so good. She’d been spared the fruit salad!

  Eve’s relief didn’t last.

  “Sit still. I need to secure this in place.”

  She watched as Genie set a wire frame on her head. Before Eve could ask what purpose it served, Genie settled a pineapple into the cradle. Adding the rest of the fruit took care of hiding the frame.

  “Is that a real pineapple?” she asked, her voice loaded with disbelief.

  Genie gave a small nod. “Crystal insisted on it.”

  Eve’s head wobbled slightly.

  “It’ll all stay in place but you have to keep your back straight. Whatever you do, don’t tip your head forward... or backward... or sideways. Just stand still.”

  Several strands of colorful necklaces and braces later, she heard her number called out. Eve scooped in a breath and followed the procession out to the stage, her attention fixed on not putting a foot wrong because if she did, she’d have ninety-nine Carmen Miranda impersonators to contend with.

  A platform of five rows increasing in height had been arranged in the middle of the stage. Carlos stood at the front issuing orders and calling out numbers starting with the back row, from highest to lowest. While Eve focused on making sure nothing fell off her head, she managed to send her gaze skating across the crowd in search of Bethany Logan and anyone showing signs of evil intentions. If the killer stood among them, she wasn’t giving anything away.

  The line moved. Eve dropped her gaze to make sure she didn’t trip over herself, and then took a tentative step forward.

  She watched as the rows filled up and she told herself to be patient. Someone was bound to make a mistake, give themselves away... or say something to incriminate—

  “How does it feel to step into a dead woman’s shoes?”

  Eve tensed and wobbled slightly in her high heels.

  “No. Don’t turn around,” the woman whispered.

  She couldn’t turn around even if she wanted to... Her pineapple tittered slightly. Eve’s hand shot out to steady it.

  Could she remember who’d been standing behind her? She’d heard the number called out, but she hadn’t matched the number to a face.

  Eve drew in a steadying breath. She’d been so fixated on keeping herself together and not putting a foot wrong, she hadn’t been paying attention to anything else. Apart from the woman who’d sat next to her in the dressing room, no other Carmen Miranda had engaged her in conversation.

  “That’s okay. You don’t need to answer.”

  Did she recognize the voice? There were no mirrors out here so she couldn’t hope to catch her reflection. The line moved again, but not fast enough for Eve’s comfort. She tried to shift slightly in the hope her peripheral vision would catch something...

  “I mean it. Don’t turn around.”

  Eve strained to hear what else she’d say.

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack. From the back, you look just like her.”

  Oh, boy!

  Okay. Stay calm, Eve.

  She didn’t want to spook her.

  Her.

  The killer.

  It had to be.

  She needed to engage her in conversation. From experience, she knew killers enjoyed bragging about their exploits. Up to a point.

  “Were you friends with Crystal?” Eve asked.

  The woman’s soft chuckle was drowne
d out when Carlos called out to the next Carmen Miranda.

  “Poor Crystal didn’t really have friends here. Then again, she wasn’t so poor...”

  The line moved again.

  “If she didn’t have friends here, why did she belong to the club?” Eve asked

  “Her mother established the club. Crystal inherited her spot and no one could kick her out.”

  Not from a lack of trying? Could she ask straight out if someone had taken measures to get rid of Crystal? In the past, she’d used cut to the chase tactics to get suspects so worked up they ended up confessing...

  Of course, in the process, Eve had actually put her life at risk. But, she’d known the cavalry had been at hand. Jack had always managed to turn up in time to rescue her. If something happened to her now, David would follow the trail of crumbs... She hoped it wouldn’t come to that because as David had pointed out, the killer’s choice of weapon left little to no room to negotiate. Once you went overboard, you were on your own...

  “I left something for you back in the dressing room.”

  Eve fought against the urge to swing around. But before she realized what she was doing, she began to turn. As she did, a bunch of grapes came loose and dangled in front of her eyes. Grabbing hold of it, she held onto the rest of her headdress and turned only to find a gap between her and the next Carmen Miranda who was busy with her cell phone. Seconds later, she heard the doors to the clubroom swing shut.

  The killer had escaped.

  She considered running after her, but just then Carlos called her number.

  “Fifty. You’re next.”

  “In a minute,” she called out and turned back toward the clubroom doors. Even if she kicked off her high heels and gave chase now, she knew it would be too late.

  The woman... the killer, would be long gone.

  Carlos called out her number again, his tone impatient.

  She’d left...

  That meant the killer wasn’t part of the Carmen Miranda club.

  “Number fifty,” Carlos called out again.

  Eve made her way to the designated spot and gave herself a few minutes to settle down.

  If she hadn’t followed the instructions, if she’d turned around... if... if...

  Too late now for regrets, she thought.

  Moments later, Carmen Miranda fifty-one came to stand beside her. Eve slanted her gaze toward her and nearly fell off the platform.

  Bethany Logan stood beside her... wearing purple grape earrings. This was the woman who’d tried to run over Crystal Reid. Eve recognized her from the photo Jill had sent her. And from somewhere else...

  Eve mentally clicked her fingers and tried to remember where she’d seen the earrings before. On the photo she’d taken of the fight or on the webpage Jill had found?

  No. It had been somewhere else.

  She’d never realized thinking required so much moving around and head bobbing. Grabbing hold of her fruit salad, she steadied herself.

  Think, Eve.

  Where had she seen those purple grape earrings?

  Heading toward her cabin!

  She silently whooped with joy.

  Had it been that morning or the day before?

  “You’re staring.”

  Bethany Logan’s combative tone put Eve on guard.

  She was about to turn away when it all suddenly dawned on her. She hadn’t just seen Bethany before.

  She’d spoken with her.

  Bethany Logan had the cabin next to Crystal Reid’s. She’d been the one to complain she hadn’t been able to sleep because of the incessant bickering coming from next door...

  “I was admiring your make-up. You look well rested. I guess that means your neighbor is no longer keeping you up.”

  Bethany lifted one eyebrow. “She’s been as quiet as a mouse.”

  Carlos clapped his hands and called for quiet. “And stand still. Whose banana is this?” he asked holding one up.

  Eve huffed out a breath. If they didn’t hurry up, she’d start to ripen.

  It took another half hour for everyone to settle into their assigned places. The photographer took several photos and they were all finally dismissed.

  “Remember, full dress rehearsals in two hours.”

  By the time Eve returned to the dressing room, she thought she might have ground her back teeth to nothing.

  She made a beeline for the corner table she’d sat at. A quick scan had her growling in frustration.

  Nothing.

  Kicking off her heels, she changed into her shorts and t-shirt and gave the dressing room table a more thorough search.

  Nothing under the make-up case.

  Nothing in the drawers.

  The woman must have been having fun at her expense. Maybe someone had noticed Eve asking questions or perhaps someone had overheard a conversation about her, just the way Bronson Charles had said he’d overheard the servers...

  There was nothing else she could do.

  As a few more people made their way into the dressing room, Eve grabbed a banana and snuck out of the clubroom.

  On the way back to the cabin, she called Jack.

  “I’ve been wondering when I’d hear from you,” he said.

  Eve drank in the sound of his deep voice. “Did you manage to get access to the Cruise Terminal security cameras?”

  “Are you eating?” he asked.

  “I’m stress eating a banana,” she said around a mouthful. “I guess you didn’t find anything.” Eve knew it had been a long shot...

  “Crystal and Bethany arrived at half hour intervals so their paths didn’t cross.”

  “Okay. I have another task for you.”

  “I didn’t realize I was moonlighting.”

  “You’re providing an essential service, Jack. Remember, I’m on a ship with a killer at large. I could be next.”

  “Not if you follow my advice.”

  “You haven’t actually straight out told me to stay in my cabin.”

  “And if I did, would you listen to my practical, life-saving advice?”

  “What’s the point of coming on a cruise if I’m going to lock myself up?”

  “Strange, I’m sure I heard you say you had no intention of getting mixed up in any of this.”

  “Yes, well... best laid plans and all that.”

  “Perhaps you need some incentive to stick to your guns.”

  Eve let herself into her cabin and dropped the banana skin on a tray by the door. “You think having a close encounter with the killer will stop me now? Been there, done that.” Or rather, she’d been in the thick of it and she’d come through just fine...

  “What?” Mira exclaimed.

  Eve turned and seeing Mira sitting by her computer, her mouth gaping open, she shrugged. “It was bound to happen. The killer hasn’t gone anywhere. At some point, she had to show herself.”

  “When? How?” Mira asked.

  “Hang on. I’ll put Jack on speaker. Jack, are you still there, or did I give you a heart attack.”

  “One of these days, I’m sure you will,” Jack said. “Fill in the gaps, Eve, before I decide to commandeer a chopper and have it drop me off on the ship.”

  Jack to the rescue. Eve smiled... “Well, there I was standing in line for the Carmen Miranda photo shoot, when the person behind me spoke to me.”

  “I think Jack needs to know what you were doing there,” Mira suggested. “By the way, they did a marvelous job with your make-up. I’ll take a photo so Jack can see.”

  Eve raked her fingers through her hair and smiled for the camera. This was the first photo she’d had taken... Everywhere she looked, people were snapping photos or having photos taken. She really needed to get into the spirit of it all. Everyone else was... Even David. Eve remembered him saying he’d spent the first day touring the ship and had photos to prove it.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Eve.”

  “Yes?”

  “You were about to tell me about your close encounter with s
omeone who has already killed once.”

  “Oh, yes. Well, there I was scanning the clubroom for any suspicious behavior when the person behind me spoke up. She said I reminded her of Crystal. Anyhow, she also told me she’d left something for me in the dressing room but I didn’t find anything. By the time I turned to see who it was, she was gone.”

  “So what makes you think she’s the killer?” Jack asked.

  Eve shrugged. Why else would she approach her? Unless... no, Eve couldn’t think of any other reason. Lost in thought, she brushed her hand across her cheek. Her fingers came away with a layer of make-up. Remembering the full dress rehearsal in two hours, she slipped her hand inside her pocket.

  Her fingers collided with something...

  Frowning, Eve removed a folded piece of paper.

  Stay out of this or your aunt will meet with an unfortunate accident.

  Eve swung toward Mira.

  “What?” Mira asked.

  “A threat.” Her first impulse to spare Mira any further concern was placated by common sense. Forewarned is forearmed, Eve thought. “I’ve been warned to stop sticking my nose into the murder or else they... she’ll come after you.”

  Mira surprised her by dismissing the threat. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. We’ll be sailing into port tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but I’m happy to cut our trip short and fly back home. What can happen between now and then?” Mira took the note from Eve. “We should give this to David. Perhaps the police can learn something from the handwriting.”

  “Did you get that, Jack? Someone slipped a threatening note in my pocket.”

  “How?” Jack asked.

  Another good question. From the time Eve had left the dressing room to the moment the woman had spoken to her, there can’t have been more than a couple of minutes.

  She must have had Eve in her sights.

  Had she been in the dressing room?

  Eve prodded her mind for a crumb of information; something she might have seen but not necessarily paid any attention to. But she came up empty. She guessed there’d been a couple of dozen people changing or having their make-up done.

  If it hadn’t been one of the impersonators, could it have been one of the other make-up artists?

  Jack listened without interrupting. She imagined him sitting back, brushing his fingers along the light bristle on his chin as he catalogued everything she told him.