Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 03 - Secrets at Sea

by Peggy Dulle

  He frowned, but I turned away from him and walked out the door.

  The food at the pool deck was good, although not as first-class as the Eggs Benedict in the dining room.

  We took our trays over to a table and sat down. I decided on Oriental today. My plate was heaped with teriyaki stir-fry beef, white rice, eggrolls, pot stickers, and deep-fried asparagus. Tom’s plate was covered with a huge salad, fresh vegetables, and grilled chicken. That man was annoying on so many levels, so I didn’t even speak to him.

  “Liza,” he said.

  I scowled at him.

  “Are you going to ignore me all day?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Well, I wanted to give you something at the beach. I know the way you feel about the sand and the sound of the ocean. But I guess I’ll have to give it to you now.”

  He reached into his pocket and brought out a small box, a ring box. He set it on the table between us. My heart skipped a beat.

  I looked up at him. “What’s in the box?”

  “Oh, you are speaking to me?”

  I sighed.

  He picked up the box and opened it. There was an exquisite gold ring with a solitary diamond in the center and two smaller stones on each side.

  I looked into his eyes and swallowed. “Where’d you get the ring?”

  He smiled. “It was my mom’s and I’ve been carrying it since the first night we spent together. I knew then I loved you. It’s just taken me a few months to convince you.”

  He pulled the ring from the box and said, “Marry me, Liza.”

  “No secrets?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Not even cop secrets?”

  “I’ll tell you anything I’m not legally bound to keep as a secret.”

  I held out my left hand and he slipped it on. It was a little big, but it looked wonderful.

  He put his fingers under my chin and brought my face to his. We kissed. It was hard to stay mad at him when the inside of my body was mush and my heart was beating like an over-wound clock.

  When we separated, his eyes and lips smiled at me.

  “That’s not fair,” I said.

  “Hey, I take any advantage I can get,” he said. “We’ve got a few minutes before we need to go down to the Carousel Room. Do you want to talk now?”

  “No.” I held out my hand. “I’m going to admire my ring and we can talk later.”

  “My mom would have loved you, Liza.”

  “I wish I could have known your parents.”

  “Me, too.” He stood, grabbed my beach bag, and put the small box into it. “I hear this excursion is one of the most popular. Let’s go and get a seat.”

  “Okay.” I took his arm and we walked to the elevator.

  Three times the elevator came, already full to capacity.

  “We could walk,” I told Tom.

  “That’s a good idea. It seems everyone is going down.”

  The stairs were as busy as the elevators.

  “Well, most of the excursions in Mazatlan leave between nine and ten-thirty,” Tom said as we took the stairs at an excruciatingly slow pace.

  “Is that why I feel like a cow being herded?”

  When we finally got to the Carousel Room, it was already packed with cruise personnel separating the crowd into groups by excursions. Tom and I stood with the largest number of people. Obviously the most popular tour.

  We walked down more stairs, out the gangway and on to the dock, then through a market area with vendors selling some of the same stuff I saw in Puerto Vallarta. Our leaders put us into taxis that took us to an area called the Golden Zone, supposedly the best shopping in Mazatlan.

  But first they took us to an arena to watch a performance by the Papantla Flyers. They were members of the Totonac Indians which was the Indian tribe who had performed the show in the 1986 World’s Fair. Six men and a child dressed in brightly colored Indian costumes did several dances to traditional Indian music and then four men climbed a ten foot pole. They positioned themselves on the four arms that protruded from the top, they spun around like on a windmill.

  Following that, they climbed a pole which had to be at least a hundred feet high. After they set themselves on the four sides of the top, an older gentleman climbed up, stood on the top and danced.

  “That guy’s got to be eighty years old,” Tom commented.

  “He’s still young enough to stand on top of a hundred foot pole and dance.”

  The four men on each side held the pole with their left hand and secured their right wrists to a rope. When they let go of the pole the spun all the way down the and to the ground. It was a dazzling performance and Tom and I gave them a standing ovation.

  Next we wandered into the shops. I bought three Mexican blankets for my house and a brightly colored, checker-board tablecloth with matching napkins for Tom’s. We went to the hotel where they served a Mexican buffet. I was a little afraid to eat after what happened to Adam and Melvin.

  “Do you think this food’s okay?” I asked Tom, who was working his way through a huge taco salad.

  He took another big bite. “Yes, this is a major hotel and we’d be one of a hundred who got sick. That wouldn’t be good for the cruise line or this hotel.”

  “Okay.” I took a bite of my pineapple and beef enchilada. It was very good and so were the chicken taquitos. I had a flan for dessert and Tom had a fruit bowl.

  We walked out to the beach and Tom helped me spread out our towels. I stripped down to my bathing suit and slid off my ring, putting it back into the little box. “This will keep it safe until we can get it sized. I don’t want to loose it.”

  Tom smiled and I handed him the suntan lotion.

  After applying sunscreen to each other, we lay down on our towels.

  I scooted down, closed my eyes, and scrunched the sand under my feet. The sound of the waves was wonderful. But my enjoyment was constantly interrupted by people coming up to us and trying to sell something.

  Finally we sat up, tired of sitting up and down every time someone came over and started talking to us.

  “This isn’t very relaxing,” Tom said.

  “They’re just trying to get some lovely U. S. dollars.”

  “But it’s the same stuff, over and over. I don’t want to see any more silver jewelry for a whole year.”

  A man walked over, holding a board full of silver jewelry. Tom scowled at him and he left.

  I laughed. “Okay, let’s talk about your cop secrets.”

  He grimaced. “Some of them I can’t really share with you, Liza.”

  “Let me start for you. Brian doesn’t work in witness protection or homicide; he works for an FBI division that hunts environmental terrorists. Although I’d think there’d be a rule about letting someone hunt people they hate, since his parents were killed in a bombing perpetrated by one of the groups. He thinks my parents’ cruising group were terrorists and that’s why he’s here. They certainly had fun planning the attacks, but I’m sure they never actually carried them out. And if Brian thinks they did, he’s an idiot!”

  Tom studied for a minute. “Can I ask some questions?”

  “I guess,” I said.

  “How’d you find out about Brian?”

  “The computer tech told Justin.”

  “I didn’t know the thing about his parents. It doesn’t seem likely the Feds would place an agent in that position. I think I’ll get a hold of a friend at the FBI and ask about Brian.”

  “That’s a good idea. Maybe he’s a loose cannon bent on revenge,” I suggested.

  Tom frowned. “I don’t think so, but I’ll check it out. The thing about your parents being part of a terrorist group, how does that sit with you?”

  “They were certainly zealots about the environment, but I don’t think they’d deliberately destroy anything, although the group definitely had the skills.”

  “What do you mean?” Tom asked.

  I repeated what Carmelita had told me about eac
h group members’ skills and how together they would have been able to pull off the jobs.

  “But one of them might have taken the plans to heart and executed them,” Tom suggested.

  “I suppose it is possible.”

  “Brian has a printout of corporations, refineries, and other companies who have had incidents. Your parents’ group was in many of the cities where there was trouble. He has an entire file on the group. It’s a lot of evidence, Liza.”

  “They’re all environmentalists. I’m not surprised they were there, but that doesn’t make them criminals. They were picketing.”

  “They all had motive, opportunity, and now you’ve told me they also had the means. It may be circumstantial evidence, but that doesn’t make it untrue. If Brian knew about the planning, he’d have enough to take it to a judge and get search warrants for their homes and businesses. The Feds take terrorists very seriously, especially since 9/11.”

  “Well, most of the group is dead, so there isn’t much to learn with warrants.”

  “Brian doesn’t think so.”

  “He thinks my parents are still alive, doesn’t he?”

  Tom nodded. “Yes, especially your dad. He thinks he went underground when the attempt was made on his life. Now he runs the cell with a different group and is continuing the work the original group planned.”

  “That’s ridiculous. My dad would not let me go on thinking he was dead if he wasn’t.”

  He put his hand on my arm. “You told me your parents’ coffins were empty, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “When the plane exploded, there just wasn’t anything left.”

  Tom shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. There surely would have been something. Bodies just don’t disintegrate, even when a plane explodes. There is always something left.”

  “Are you saying both my parents might still be alive?”

  “I don’t know, Liza, but it is possible.”

  “My parents wouldn’t do that to me, Tom.” I shook my head. “You didn’t know them, so you can’t understand this, but my parents always told Jordan and me that we came first in their lives, before their jobs and before the rallies. If either one of us ever needed anything they’d drop everything and come and help us.”

  “But you were out of college and Jordan had moved to New York with her boyfriend at the time, what was his name?”

  “Sam.”

  “Right, she was settled with Sam and finishing school. You were starting your first teaching job. You didn’t need your parents anymore, neither of you.”

  “Everyone needs their parents, Tom, no matter how old they are.”

  “I know that. Believe me, I wish every day my parents hadn’t been killed, but see it from their eyes. Someone was trying to kill your dad. Both of their children were old enough to take care of themselves. And Brian was hot on their trail.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, he started working Enviro-Terrorist fifteen years ago. He knew about your parents’ little cruising group. Remember the picture, the one with the fifteen people.”

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  “It was Brian, even back then. He was trying to infiltrate the group and bring them down.”

  “And then his parents were killed.”

  “Yes, maybe as an accident or maybe a deliberate attempt to stop him.”

  “And he is obsessed on my parents’ group?”

  “Maybe.”

  I asked the only obvious question left, “Do you think Brian’s the one killing them?”

  Tom shrugged and stood. “I don’t think so, but…”

  I stood. “We left him with Carmelita.”

  We gathered up our stuff and took the first taxi back to the ship.

  Chapter 30

  In the taxi, Tom called his friend at the FBI and asked him to check on Brian.

  When he hung up I asked, “Don’t you think you should ask your friend to send another agent to the ship? Brian might not come easily.”

  “I can handle Brian, and besides, I’m not totally convinced he’s a murderer. I certainly don’t want to tell the people he works with that he’s a serial killer and then he turns out not to be. It’s a definite career stopper.”

  When we finally reached the dock it took forever to get back onto the ship. It looked like everyone decided to come back at the same time. I shifted my weight from one foot to the next, as the acid in my stomach churned with anxiety. By the time we got on board, I ran up the stairs toward Carmelita and Brian’s room.

  I knocked on the door, but no one answered.

  “Now what?” I asked Tom.

  He opened his cell phone and spoke into it. “Brian, this is Tom. I’ve got some more information on Liza’s parents’ group — enough to get those warrants you want. Call me as soon as you get this message.” Tom closed his phone. “He’ll call soon. He wants those warrants badly.”

  I nodded. “Let’s go to our room and I can leave a message for Carmelita. She’ll pick it up as soon as she gets in.”

  In the room I went directly to the phone and called. “Carmelita, it’s Liza. I need some help with hair and makeup again tonight. Call me on Tom’s cell phone when you get this message.”

  Tom smiled.

  “We women have our priorities, too.”

  “Tonight’s not another formal night, is it?” Tom frowned.

  “No, but tomorrow is.”

  Tom lifted his eyebrows and asked, “What are you wearing to the next formal night?”

  “One of my own dresses,” I told him, ignoring his attempt at light-heartedness. “What do we do now?”

  “We wait. I have no idea who to contact in Mazatlan about Brian and Carmelita. They’re supposed to be helping Leslie Mitchell get her husband’s body off the ship and home to the states. I wouldn’t know where to begin to look for them.”

  “Let’s shower and go and do something. I’ll go crazy in here waiting for them.”

  “You first,” he said.

  I grabbed his hand. “No, both of us. It will keep my mind off Carmelita.”

  Tom laughed.

  But it didn’t work. It was the quickest shower we’d ever taken together, and although we ended up in bed, I couldn’t focus. Tom was willing but I couldn’t concentrate and everything bothered me.

  When I finally had a giggling fit, Tom stopped. “Let’s find something else to do. This is too frustrating.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “It’s not your fault. Your mind is usually multi-tasking but today it’s on another planet that I can’t reach.”

  I glanced over at the clock. “It’s almost five. Let’s get sushi and then go exercise.”

  Tom laughed. “Now, those are words I never thought I’d ever hear you say.”

  “As long as it looks like a California roll, I’m happy, and it will kill more time.”

  I dressed in thin sweats and a t-shirt, Tom put on his exercise clothes and we went down and ate sushi. Tom had two of everything and I ate the look-a-like California rolls.

  When Tom’s phone rang, we both grabbed for it. He was a bit quicker so he got it first and then handed it to me, “It’s Justin.”

  “Hi, Justin.”

  “Hey, Teach. I’ve got more information for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Brian’s parents were killed in Richmond, Virginia, nine years ago. They were both engineers and worked for the Orion Refinery. They were doing a valve-system inspection when a couple of the release valves blew.”

  “Were my parents there at the time?”

  “Yes, according to your dad’s flight plan. It was a stop they documented at the local airport. There was a big rally that weekend because the refinery was suspected of dumping hazardous waste into a local valley. The cans weren’t marked with the company logo, but they were the only company within a hundred miles who produced that waste product.”

  “Had the valves been tampered with?”

&nbs
p; “Yes, the pipes had been filed down so the valves didn’t fit very well. Just a little amount of pressure made them blow.”

  “Was it a scheduled inspection?” I asked.

  “I looked for that, but couldn’t find it.”

  “It was a surprise inspection?”

  “Yes, it was even a surprise to the company.”

  “Brian’s parents did it on their own and without telling anyone?”

  “I think so.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, Teach.”

  “Do you think they suspected the company might actually have been dumping the waste and wanted to check it out for themselves?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “No, just Brian’s parents.”

  “So, let’s say they suspected the company was dumping waste and wanted to get the proof. They go in to do a surprise inspection so they can snoop around.”

  “The company wouldn’t have liked that.”

  “No, they wouldn’t.”

  “So you’re thinking the company had Brian’s parents killed and their deaths weren’t related to the sabotage of the refinery by an environmental group.”

  “Maybe, I’ll run it by Tom and see what he thinks.”

  “He thinks different than you and me, Teach,” Justin said.

  “Don’t I know it.” I shook my head and smiled at Tom.

  Tom was frowning at me.

  “Anything else, Justin?

  “No, I’ll call if I find anything else.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sidekick away!”

  When I hung up, Tom shook his head. “No company’s going to risk killing two of their own engineers. It would bring too many cops into their refinery. The last thing you want around your business is cops if you’re doing something illegal.”

  “Not if you have a viable suspect to hand the cops. Just point your finger at the people picketing your facility.”

  “No, they’d still have cops running around their refinery.”

  “What if they weren’t shipping the waste into the valley at that point? What if they were getting rid of it legally and didn’t have to worry about the cops finding out anything.”

  “Maybe.”

  “And my parents landed at the local airport. There’s a log showing their arrival, and their departure a few days later. If they really were involved in the incident at the refinery, wouldn’t they have come in under the radar like they’d done before?”