by Peggy Dulle
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know but it usually means someone has something to hide.”
“I wonder what?”
Tom shook his head. “While you take your shower, I’ll call Ramirez. Maybe he’s found something on the note.”
“Fingerprints?”
“That would be nice. Then he could go and arrest the guy and we could enjoy our vacation.”
“What if the person is on the boat with us?”
“Then it will be good to know who it is. In fact, Ramirez could send us a picture, too.”
“Now that would be good.”
Tom nodded.
I got into the shower. It was small, but came with a shampoo and body wash dispenser. That was good, since I hadn’t brought any along. When I came out Tom was wrapped in a white terrycloth robe.
“Where’d you find that?” I asked.
He opened the closet and handed me one. “The room comes with them.”
“That’s nice.” I wrapped it around me and tied the cord. “What did Ramirez say?”
“There was nothing on the paper. No prints except yours and mine.”
“What about fibers or other trace evidence?” I asked.
He smiled. “You watch too much TV.”
“Was there any?”
“No, it was clean. But Ramirez has the lab checking to see where it was printed.”
“They can do that?”
“Sure, since 9/11, every printer puts a number on the back of the paper when it prints. You have to have special equipment to see it, but it’s there.”
“And if the printer was bought before 9/11?”
“Then we’re out of luck.”
Tom stood and stretched. “I’m going to take a shower. I don’t have to dress up for dinner tonight, do I?”
“No, on the first night you can pretty much wear whatever you want. Some people don’t get their luggage in time to dress for dinner, especially the ones who eat at five.”
“Perfect, I’ll wear my shorts.”
Tom got into the shower and I dressed in a skirt and top, put on some makeup, and dried my hair. It was cool; the blow dryer was in the vanity’s top drawer. You just opened the drawer and pulled it out.
I flipped through the pictures again. Could these be what the thief at the inn had wanted? Pictures of my parents and their cruising friends? Why would they be so important?
I laid the set on the vanity and took the picture of the fifteen people with me over to the bed. Who were those extra three people and were they important? I needed to take this picture to Carmelita and have her take a look at it. She would know who they were. Of course, I wanted to show it to Betsy and look what happened to her.
I threw the picture on the bed and got out one of the books I brought along to read.
Tom came out a few seconds later, with a towel wrapped around his middle. “Okay, that’s the smallest shower I’ve ever used.”
“I guess us taking a shower together is out,” I told him, grabbing the photo to use as a bookmark.
“I’d like to say we could give it a try, but we’d probably both get hurt in there.”
I nodded.
“Why are you wearing a skirt? I thought tonight was casual.”
“It is, but I’ve got these skirts which are a little too short to wear at school. It’s impossible to sit with my kids on the floor in them. I brought them along and, after all, my luggage is here.”
“Do you want me to wear slacks?” He asked.
The look on his face was pitiful. I laughed, “No, put your shorts on. It’s the only night you’ll get to wear them.”
“Thanks.” He grabbed the shorts he’d taken from his suitcase and put them on. They were a little wrinkled, but he put on a collared knit shirt and looked quite respectable.
When we were both dressed, we walked down to the Internet Café where Tom purchased an internet time plan.
“Can I print something that someone has sent me?” I asked the clerk.
“Yes, but only in black and white.”
“That’s fine.”
Tom checked his email and printed the report from Ramirez.
While he looked at it, I went into my email and opened up the one from Justin. There were several attachments I sent to the printer. I went back to Justin’s email. It was all about Shelby.
It started:
Hi Teach…
Here’s the latest on Shelby’s adventures at my house.
2:00 pm – repeatedly attacked vacuum until my mom finally gave up and got the broom.
2:30 pm – grabbed the broom from my mom’s hands and dragged it out the dog door.
I started laughing, Tom came over and asked, “What?”
“Read what Justin blogged about Shelby,” I continued reading the email.
3:00 pm – Shelby grabbed dusting cloth from my mom’s hand and buried it in back yard
3:30 pm - mom gave up cleaning
4:00 pm – phone rang, Shelby went nuts, mom tripped over Shelby and fell. Shelby licked her face.
4:30 pm – People came to the door to sell something. Shelby kept barking. Mom had to send the people away. Mom’s starting to really like Shelby.
That’s it for now, Teach. Talk to you soon.
“Shelby sure has something against anyone cleaning, doesn’t she?” Tom said.
“It’s not that, it’s just the movement. If you could figure out how to clean without moving, she’d be fine with it.”
“Did you print the stuff from Justin?” Tom asked.
“Yes.”
“Any other emails?”
“You’re thinking I might have gotten another email from the person who sent me the photo of my mom, Betsy and Adam? I asked.
“Well, maybe they sent you another with a little more explanation. We’re searching in the dark at the moment.”
“I can check.” I scrolled down the list of new emails. Two from Julie, a retired friend who loves cruising. She was always trying to get me to go with her. One from Jordan. I opened it. It was short.
Hi Liza,
Took an early flight this morning to Texas and filled the vases on Mom and Dad’s gravesite.
I miss them.
Jordan.
My eyes welled with tears. I missed them too.
I felt Tom’s hand on my shoulder, he squeezed it. He knew how I felt, even though he’d lost his parents over twenty years ago. You never get over the loss of your parents or the feeling of being an orphan and alone.
There was one more email. It had today’s date.
“I don’t recognize this one,” I told Tom.
“Open it. Maybe it’s filled with all the pieces we’re missing.”
I opened it.
It was short too.
My stomach dropped.
Bobby,
Stop searching, enjoy the cruise, and go home.
“That’s not even for you,” Tom said, “Someone must have gotten the wrong email address.”
I didn’t say anything. Was it possible? How was it possible? Who else would know? I started to see those stars again.
“What’s the matter, Liza?”
“It is for me.”
“That’s not your name. Who calls you Bobby?”
“My dad.”
Chapter 14
I kept trying to breathe, I gasped for air. Tom knelt and put his hand on my leg. “Easy, Liza. What’s Justin’s email address?”
“Its Justin22…,no.” I shook my head between breaths, and then sputtered, “He changed it. It’s sidekick007.”
Tom frowned. “I’ve got to talk to that boy.”
He clicked on the forward button and typed: get the source of this. Tom
Justin Instant Messaged him right back.
Isn’t that what her dad called her?
Tom typed: Yes, get the source.
By any means?
Yes!
Tom helped me stand.
“It can’t be.�
�� I looked at him between the stars I saw. “How could it be?”
“Hang on, Liza.” Tom lifted me from the seat and rushed me out of the Internet Café.
He dragged me through a door labeled, “Library”. It was empty. He set me down in the nearest chair.
“Look at me, Liza,” Tom said, pulling my face toward him. “Close your eyes, concentrate on taking slow and deep breaths.”
I did as he said and slowly my breathing evened out. I opened my eyes. “Could my dad still be alive?”
“I don’t know, but how many people knew he called you Bobby?”
I shrugged.
“Justin knew.”
“Sure, he would. He was always over at my house. My dad played soccer with him.”
“Who else?” Tom prodded.
“Jordan and anyone who was ever around my family or went to a family gathering.” I started to feel better. “Lots of people, actually.”
“Right, including the people your parents knew on this ship?”
“Yes, I’m sure they would have known if they ever had a conversation with my dad and I came up. He never called me Elizabeth or Liza. It was always Bobby.”
“Okay, then. Just because you got an email addressed to Bobby doesn’t mean it’s from your dad.”
“But could it be?” I asked.
Tom shook his head. “I don’t know. Not really.”
“If he’s alive, why hasn’t he tried to contact me in the last four years? Could my mom still be alive too?”
Tom didn’t answer, but I didn’t really expect him to, I was just talking out loud. But was it really possible I wasn’t an orphan? A glimmer of hope began to form in the hole in my heart left by the deaths of my parents.
“Let’s get back to the room and read these emails,” Tom said.
“My stomach is empty and growling. Can we get something to eat first?”
“Now, I know you’re fine. Sure, let’s see.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s five-thirty. Do you have the tear off sheet from the brochure that tells us what’s going on and where?”
“No, I didn’t bring it with me.”
“The purser’s desk is just a quick ride down on the elevator, let’s get one and see what’s available.”
Tom picked up the printouts and we left the library, took the glass elevator down to the second deck, and got another Cruiser Notes brochure.
Tom flipped to the food section and his eyes lit up. “What about sushi? It will make a great snack before dinner.”
“As long as they have something similar to California Rolls, that’s fine.” It was the only sushi I could eat without thinking about the little fish in my tank at school.
We found the sushi bar. Tom was excited because it was right next to a coffee counter. I don’t drink coffee, so it wasn’t a big deal to me until I found out they also had banana splits. Now, that was worth getting excited over.
Tom took four different kinds of sushi. I got the one that looked like California Rolls. It wasn’t exactly what I was used to, but I was too hungry to say no.
We sat right outside a bar called Celestial Nights. It was decorated in planets. Teenagers in the room were singing karaoke. The music was loud and I didn’t recognize the songs.
Tom kept glancing into the room.
“Have you ever heard those songs?” I asked.
“Sure, Michael loves alternative music.”
“Alternative to what, decent music?”
He laughed. “I keep telling you, honey, you need to come into the twenty-first century.”
“If it means listening to that music, maybe I don’t want to.”
He stuffed another strange looking piece of fish into his mouth. If it starts to move, I’m leaving, I thought.
“How is Michael?”
“He’s doing great.” Tom smiled. “I think he’s going to spend a couple of weeks in August with me.”
“You think?”
Tom frowned. “Well, you know Pamela. I make the plans, she find a reason I need to change them. I make new plans and, lo and behold, they don’t work either.”
“Maybe you should go to court and get it all down in writing?”
“Probably. When we divorced we agreed we’d share custody. He’d spend every other holiday with me and a month in the summer. That hasn’t happened but I do talk to him every week.”
“And when was the last time you actually saw him?”
“I flew up to Seattle in June and had a weekend with him.
“You definitely need to get something in writing, Tom. Because without it, she’s got the kid so she’s got all the power.”
Tom nodded and ate a piece of sushi that had little tentacles sticking out. I turned my head and listened to the karaoke alternative music.
I hadn’t met Michael yet. Who would have thought I’d be involved with a divorced man with a seven-year-old child? Life certainly takes you places where you never envisioned yourself.
Tom held up the sheets we printed. “You want to look at these here?”
“No, let’s go back to our room.”
He grinned. “Had enough music?”
“Yes.” I stood.
“Think you can find your way back without my help?” Tom asked.
“No.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
When we got back to the room, Tom handed me the sheets Justin had sent. “I’ll start with the two police reports from Ramirez.”
I nodded and started reading.
“Here’s what I found, Teach.
Adam Sherman lived in Phoenix, Arizona and worked for a small law firm: Sherman, Taylor, and Dunn. According to their website, Adam graduated in 1970 from Brooklyn Law School in New York and became a partner in 1978. I went through the alumni search of the law school and found an Adam Sherman, but I don’t think it’s your Adam Sherman because I found a death certificate for the one who graduated from Brooklyn Law School. He was killed in an auto accident in 1971, just a year after he graduated. He really was a nobody – no family and only a few friends. The only write-up I could find on the accident and death was small and shoved on the newspaper’s last page.
Your Adam Sherman kept a very low profile for a lawyer. He didn’t take any court cases, just did research and wrote briefs for the firm. I couldn’t find any pictures of him on the law firm’s website or in the local papers for any social functions. I did find his and Betsy’s marriage certificate. They were married in Reno on July 20, 2004.
Now, Betsy Ruiz was a computer contractor with Copraspeed. They specialize in hotel software and their main office is in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her job was to travel to all their clients, oversee the program’s installation, and periodically go back and make sure everything is going smoothly. She was well respected in the computer field, considered good at her job and a valued employee, according to their website. She’s got a huge photo on the company’s website and is on several charity boards. Unlike Adam, her picture has appeared in several newspapers and magazines. Betsy’s parents live in Tulsa, along with her three brothers, two sisters, and their families.
The dead woman at Nordic Inn was Inga Pardee. She has a police record for prostitution in San Francisco, Dallas, and Seattle, but nothing for the last five years. Her address on the police report is listed as Portland, Oregon, but I couldn’t find any real evidence that she lived there, no bank account or credit cards with charges from there. Also, no one ever claimed her body.
I did find an Inga Pardee who lived in Phoenix, Arizona. She worked as a clerk in a Starbucks a few blocks from Adam Sherman’s law firm and hasn’t shown up for work since she left on a vacation to California on July 20, 2004.
If I find anything else, I’ll let you know.
Super Sidekick away!
I set the papers down.
“Anything in your sheets?” I asked Tom.
“Not really. They haven’t found anything new about Betsy’s murder and the dead woman four years ago remains an unsolved case.”
<
br /> I told him what Justin had found on Adam, Betsy, and Inga.
Tom frowned. “The police report doesn’t say anything about the possibility of Inga living in Phoenix.”
“Maybe you guys should hire Justin?”
“No,” Tom shook his head, “then I’d probably have to arrest him for hacking.”
“It’s interesting that Inga was really from Phoenix and Adam was out getting a towel when she was killed.”
“Yes, but what I find more fascinating is that Adam Sherman wasn’t the Adam Sherman from Brooklyn Law School, even though he said he was and so did his law firm.”
“Could he have been in a witness protection program?” I asked.
“I doubt it. I don’t think they usually use dead people’s names and occupations. But I’ll give Ramirez a call and have him check into it and tell him about Inga’s connection to Phoenix.” Tom glanced at his watch. “It’s six-thirty, I think I’ll go and exercise. Do you want to join me?”
“Sure.” I shrugged.
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Why not? I brought along a few books to read, I’ll ride the bike and read.”
“Great.” Tom stood. “Let me change into some exercise clothes.”
I looked at my skirt. “Maybe I’ll skip it tonight. I don’t really want to get changed and exercise. Then I’ll have to take a shower and get dressed again.” I saw Tom frown, so I continued, “Tomorrow let’s eat sushi, exercise, and then get ready for dinner.”
“Okay.” Tom nodded. “Are you going to stay in the room?”
“No, I think I’ll wander down to the shops. They opened at six.”
He handed me the map of the ship. “If you get lost, pick up a phone and call the gym. I’ll come and find you.”
I took the map and smiled. “Thanks.”
Tom changed and we left the room. At the elevator, he went up to the gym and I went down to the shops. He was right about my sense of direction. If my instincts told me to go right, I should automatically go left, but I never do and I usually end up lost. Twice I had to change directions to get to the shops, but I eventually found them. There were two, one on each side of the hallway, and with quite a collection of items, from drugstore necessities to alcohol, from casual clothes and costume jewelry to formalwear and real diamonds.
I stopped and looked at the formalwear. Tom would look so nice in his tux, and the dresses I brought were old. An effervescent black dress caught my eye. It was long and slinky. The top had narrow straps, but not the spaghetti straps that require a special bra, and the low-flowing neckline would lay right at the top of my breasts. The price tag said $125.00. I chuckled. It was quite out of my price range, especially for a dress I’d wear just once. But it was still lovely, so I tried it on. It fit in all the right places, but I just couldn’t justify spending all that money on just one dress.
