“How did you know?”
Cece shrugged. “I’ve always been good at reading people. You always get the same look in your eyes when there’s been a death. Anyone observant would be able to recognize it by now.”
“Right. It was one of the beauty pageant judges. Diana Penn.”
Cece winced and let out a low whistle.
“The one whose crown got dunked in the pool yesterday?”
I nodded. “The very same.”
“It doesn’t seem like she was too popular, anyway. I bet you’ve got a big list of suspects already.”
“Me? Well, no one’s asked me to—”
Cece interrupted. She never had any time for beating around the bush If something was good, she’d say it was good. If it was bad, she would say it straight up. And if she thought I was going to investigate a murder, then she wouldn’t have any time for a “will she, won’t she” scenario.
“It doesn’t matter whether they asked. We all know you’re going to anyway. It’s like... your special skill.”
“My special skill?” I didn’t know how I felt about that. I thought my special skill was writing, journalistic writing in particular. But that was a special skill I barely got to exercise these days. Writing fluff pieces for the company’s social media stream was barely journalism in anything but the loosest definition of the term.
“It sure is. You are so gonna find out who did it. So who are your suspects? The activist?”
I was nodding before I’d even had a chance to think it through.
“Yes, her certainly. She and Diana had two run-ins yesterday. But not just her. There’s a man as well, one of the other judges, Martin Wood, he certainly didn’t seem to think much of her. He was really annoyed that she’d been invited on to the cruise.”
“How was she...” Cece mimed a knife being drawn across her throat using a finger. It wasn’t much of an improvement to saying it outright, but I appreciated her attempt.
I shook my head and leaned close to her, to make sure no one was listening. We wouldn’t want this getting out to the other passengers. Of course the pageant contestants would have to be informed, but we would do that quietly and tastefully, not through one of them overhearing a private conversation.
“She was strangled with her own beauty pageant sash.”
Cece slowly nodded as she thought about it, like it made perfect sense to her.
“Then it had to have been one of the girls, right?”
“Yep,” I said with a nod, to encourage her. “Or someone who wants us to think it was one of the girls.”
Cece glared at the impeccable logic.
“Man, this sleuthing thing is harder than I thought. Speaking of which, there’s that thing I wanted to show you. It might even be related.”
Cece rummaged in her cleaning cart, and from between two stacks of bedsheets she pulled out a small cardboard box.
“Where’d you get that?”
“From the trash. A contestant named Kimberly Dawson. Do you know her?”
“Yep, I met her yesterday actually. She wanted to charge me ten bucks to take her picture. What’s so interesting about her trash?”
Cece pulled off the lid of the box to reveal the contents within. At first glance, it looked like she had uncovered a trash box from the trash containing yet more trash inside. On a second look, it seemed the same. But it was certainly some odd looking trash at the very least.
“What is it?”
“That’s what I wanted you to figure out. But I guess you’ve got some more important detecting to do now.”
Cece reached in the box and pulled out one of the objects contained within.
Inside the box were lots more similar looking things, for want of a better word, in a variety of colors.
She held up what she had withdrawn for me so that I could see it properly. It appeared to be a piece of wood in the shape of a circle, wrapped with dark red leather.
I took it from her and peered at it, turning it over in my hand.
Looking back in the box, I could see there were lots of similar pieces, though some of them appeared to be plastic, and some of them didn’t have anything wrapped around them at all.
“Weird, huh?” said Cece with a shrug.
“Yep. Weird. But I have no idea what they are.”
“But it’s like a collection, right? Who wants to collect little wooden circles? I’m telling you, something’s up with this.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. But I guess it’s going to remain a mystery unless we go and ask Kimberly Dawson herself. And anyway, it looks like she grew bored of her collection since she threw it in the trash.”
“Do you think I should?” asked Cece with a frown.
“No,” I said with a laugh. “I think if the cleaner shows up asking what the weird junk she found in her trash was, she’s not going to be very pleased.”
“Housekeeper, not cleaner,” corrected Cece.
“I’m not sure Kimberly Dawson would see the distinction. Can I grab one of those? Who knows what might be important?”
Cece offered me the box like it was filled with chocolates. I withdrew a wooden circle with a midnight blue trim around the edges and shoved it into the coin pocket of my jeans.
“Let me know what you find out,” said Cece. “I guess I better get back to it. I wish they’d replaced Carol.”
“Carol?”
Cece nodded. “The girl who quit. Just before we left New Orleans. On our last night, she met some Russian sailor in the Rusty Anchor and went off on his cargo ship instead.”
“Wow. How romantic.”
Cece tilted her head at me.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“The new guy with the beard isn’t helping much, huh?” I asked with a grin.
Cece poked me in the shoulder.
“I told you, there is no new guy. And thinking about it, I don’t think anyone on staff matches your description either. Do we have another stowaway, or did you just imagine him? You were probably daydreaming about hot housekeepers.” Cece looked down as if appraising herself. “It’s understandable, I guess.”
I poked her back.
“Yeah, right. I definitely saw a guy mopping on the first day.”
Cece shrugged. “Anyone can push a mop. You don’t have to be in housekeeping to do that.”
“He was wearing the uniform!” I protested.
Cece shook her head. “Maybe he had clothes that looked like a uniform. Or maybe he borrowed it.” Cece frowned at me. “Perhaps I should tell Ethan you’re fixating on this new mystery man, huh?”
That earned her another poke from me. “Sure. I don’t have time to date him, let alone start dreaming about someone else. Whatever. I know what I saw. When I see him again, I’ll take a picture.”
“Stalker,” said Cece with an amused giggle.
The mention of the word reminded me that I had a stalker of my own to contend with. Was that Millie And Me Choc-Orange bar a sign from them? Or was it just another coincidence?
“Ha ha, very funny. I’ll let you get back to work.”
We exchanged a quick farewell hug and I walked away slowly, my mind running at a hundred miles an hour. What were the little round discs? Who had arranged Diana’s pampering session? Was the Millie And Me bar a coincidence or a sign? Who killed Diana?
It was a lot to think about. And no doubt it was going to be up to me to find the answers to most of those questions.
Chapter 11
T he next morning, the event was finally beginning to get back on track.
We had spent the rest of the previous day dealing with the fallout from the murder of Diana Penn.
This had involved tactfully informing her fellow judges, followed by the contestants themselves. We’d canceled the day’s activities, assured by a rather stoic Autumn Meadows that the show must go on.
After consulting with Kelly, Ethan, and corporate HQ, they agreed to honor Autumn’s request. Where there was money on the l
ine, Swan always seemed to side with fiscal responsibility, as Ethan put it. Or as Cece said when I told her, “All those suits care about is money.”
By the following morning, we had freshly-adjusted schedules, and the show was indeed going on.
We were using an outdoor activity area that had been booked for ‘game day.’ It was a chance for the contestants to show their coordination, strength, and grace in a series of physical activities. Oh, and pose for approximately a bazillion photos.
“Your job’s pretty easy this cruise, huh?” said Sam with a playful nudge.
We were standing outside in the beautiful morning light, watching the steady arrival of the girls before the events began. The saltiness of the morning sea air was soon overshadowed by the scent of too much perfume on too many pageant girls, along with the sunblock they used to protect their oh-so-delicate skin.
“Why do you say that?” It was actually true: my job was easier on this cruise, but I wasn’t sure whether Sam or others had realized the reason why.
Sam raised an arm and pointed. First, she directed our gaze to Kimberley Dawson, who was taking a picture together with Clarissa Jones. Then my friend jabbed her hand toward another pair of girls, and then another.
They were all doing the same thing.
They were all taking selfies or pictures of each other, immediately sending them out to the world on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, and all the rest of it.
“Yeah, guess you’re right. They take better pictures than I do anyway.”
Sam had figured out the shortcut I had been taking: I’d simply been re-sharing the pictures that had been sent out by the beauty pageant contestants.
It seemed a waste of time for me to be taking my own pictures when they had better ones, which were already being shared thousands of times anyway.
“I guess you need all the free time you can get anyway.” Sam lowered her arm back to her side.
“Why’s that?”
“You’ve got to solve the case, right?”
“Why does it always have to be me?” I complained.
“Because you’re the best at it,” she said simply. “Look, it’s starting.” Sam nodded her head in the direction of Autumn Meadows, who was standing on the announcer’s stage, microphone in hand, ready to begin. Standing next to her was her husband Rolf.
“Good morning, girls,” said Autumn, in a friendly upbeat tone.
“Good morning, Autumn,” said all of the contestants in unison, like a group of schoolgirls responding to their teacher’s morning greeting.
“It’s a very sad day today,” she said with a frown that looked forced upon her face. “We’ve lost one of the greats. She would’ve told you herself that she was the greatest of all time. Though I don’t think we need to go quite that far. Diana Penn will always be remembered, and I hope you will keep her in your hearts today while we respectfully compete in our series of fun games.”
The crowd murmured and offered some halfhearted clapping. They weren’t sure whether it was appropriate to give applause at the reminder of the death they had been quietly informed about the day before.
While Autumn spoke, we had slowly made our way forward, and we were now standing behind Clarissa and Kimberly. They both had their hands up in front of their mouths, as if to cover their giggling. But they weren’t giggling. They were having a surreptitious conversation.
Curious, I sidled up behind them unnoticed.
“Oh, it wasn’t just the pageants. It was more than that.”
“Shut up! Tell me!”
I leaned in behind them. From what I caught, they were talking about the rivalry between Diana and Autumn, and it sounded like it was about to get juicy.
“And you’ll never guess this!” said Kimberly. Just as she was about to speak, she checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening.
But someone was listening.
Me.
“Hi!” I said brightly. “Can I get a picture?” I waved my phone in their direction.
They both turned to face me, and I snapped their smiling faces while in the background Autumn was still on the stage, talking about the day’s events, and how missed Diana Penn would be.
When I had taken the pictures they both stared pointedly at me. They clearly wanted to carry on the conversation without me present.
“I’ll catch you later…” I gave them a little wave, trying to hide my annoyance. I wanted to listen in to the rest of what they had to say about the rivalry between Autumn and Diana that apparently went back years.
After I’d moved away, I shifted my gaze back to the stage. Autumn was still talking, though she’d forgotten to keep looking sad. In fact she looked quite pleased now.
“…And, although I begged him not to do it, my husband, the great Rolf Monteith, has stepped into the breach and will be joining the judging team.”
Rolf raised his hand into the air and waved out at the crowd, a serious but determined expression on his face.
Everyone clapped appreciatively. Well, almost everyone.
Martin Wood didn’t.
He was standing to the side of the stage, and on hearing the announcement he crossed his hands in front of his chest, shook his head, and his eyebrows shot up to the top of his head. He seemed both shocked, annoyed, but also in a way unsurprised. It was quite a feat managing to convey all those emotions at once, but I was pretty sure about what I’d seen.
His reaction was intriguing. Did he have some deeper connection to Diana that I needed to investigate? I decided to go and talk to him.
After announcing her husband would be a judge, Autumn returned to talking about the day’s events.
She was explaining how the most important thing today was for the girls to have fun. But actually, that was the second most important thing. The most important thing was to give their very best effort, because in order to be a beauty queen, and not just another contestant, a girl had to give it her all.
I made my way forward until I, too, was next to the stage. Martin Wood was wearing white capri pants, a white linen shirt, a white cravat, and a nautical white hat. In the sunlight, his brightness was almost blinding. I noticed he had on just a touch of concealer under his eyes and I was fairly certain there was a light dusting powder on his cheeks to bring out some extra glow. Slipping between the final two girls in my way, I appeared by Martin’s side.
“It is good of Rolf to step in to help, isn’t it?” I said by way of greeting, nodding my head up toward the stage.
“Yes, in a way, I suppose it is.” I could tell from Martin’s dry tone that he did not agree in the slightest. Good. That’s what I was trying to get out. “After all, he does have a history with pageant girls.”
The last sentence was said somewhat derisively, with a little shake of his head.
“A history with pageant girls? How so?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he gripped my forearm and stared wide-eyed. “Would you look at that!”
Martin completely ignored my follow-up question about Rolf’s history with pageant girls.
I looked to see what it was that had drawn his attention. Clarissa Jones was walking toward us, and now that she was in motion, I could see that she was wearing the most ridiculous bright white shoes. The heels on them must have been at least five inches high.
“It’s a wonder she can walk,” I said with a chuckle.
But that wasn’t what he had meant. I’d gotten the wrong idea completely.
“Clarissa! You get yourself over here right now. Those shoes are unbelievable. This is why you’re my protege, my dear!”
And he didn’t mean unbelievable in the way that I was thinking it—that they were completely impractical for walking around on a cruise ship.
With a shy but pleased smile, Clarissa approached us, emphasizing each step she took so that we would stare down and admire her towering shoes.
“These old things? Do y’all like them?”
“Do we like them?” Martin ga
ve me a nudge. “She’s asking us if we like them! Can you believe it?”
I gave him a polite smile in response.
“We don’t like them. We love them.” Martin reached out and took my right hand, which was holding my phone. “You simply must take pictures of them. Here, get me in the shot.”
I wanted to hear more about Rolf’s history with pageant girls, but it didn’t seem like I was going to get there right now. Martin had lost all interest in anything but Clarissa’s terrible pair of shoes.
Martin went and stood next to Clarissa and they both put stupid grins on their faces, pointing down at the shoes. Clarissa posed so that one well-tapered leg was out in front of the other, raising her foot, so that the shoe could be admired in all its ridiculousness.
I took half a dozen pictures of them grinning, pointing, and posing with the shoes.
For the final picture, Clarissa stood up straight, but with one leg raised behind her, so that the heel was fully in the air. I stared at it. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Not because they were so spectacular, but because I had just realized something.
The heel of her shoe was like a long, white tube. Underneath the white leather on the outside was presumably a wooden or plastic inner cylinder. It all made sense now.
What Cece had found in Kimberly’s trash wasn’t a strange collection of little circles. It was tiny pieces of high heels. She had a collection of slices of heel which had been removed from shoes.
I gave an audible gasp as I figured it out while taking the final picture.
“Spectacular!” said Martin with satisfaction.
I gave Clarissa a thumbs up sign and she smiled happily back at me. I was surprised she didn’t topple over.
“They are something, Clarissa,” I said shaking my head in amazement. “You know, if I wanted to wear those, I’d have to cut the whole heel off. I could never balance in that.”
Martin gave me a strange look and shook his head. “But you can’t cut the whole heel off of shoes like that, they’re not designed for it. They would be terribly uncomfortable if you did.”
They would be terribly uncomfortable if I didn’t, I thought.
“I’ve never heard of anyone doing that,” said Clarissa with a little shake of her head. The very idea of ruining shoes like that was completely alien to her. Wearing shoes like that was completely alien to me.
Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries 04 - Beauty Queens and Cruises Page 7
