by Peggy Dulle
He tilted his head and looked expectantly at me. I closed my eyes. Oh, I hadn’t shared that little bit about my parents landing in private airports before and Tom was going to call it very suspicious. If I made a list of the things I chose not to share with Tom, I wouldn’t make so many mistakes.
“Liza?”
I opened my eyes. “Yes.”
“Tell me about your parents’ trips, and if they didn’t land in the city airports, where did they land?”
“Private airports.”
“No logs.”
I shook my head.
“Brian’s not going to like that.”
“Who cares? Remember, he’s a killer.”
“I don’t think Brian is a killer, but let me amend that. The Feds are not going to like it.”
“Why do we have to share it with them?”
His frown deepened. “It’s what we cops do. We share information when we think it will help someone with their investigation.”
“About my parents?”
“About anyone.”
“Well, that stinks.” I stood. “I’m going to exercise.”
Tom raised his eyebrows, but I ignored him. I didn’t really think my parents were still alive, but if they were I’d just helped the Feds get closer to finding them. I walked out the door.
On the way to the gym we passed lots of people who had overdone the sun today. They looked like fried lobsters. The gym was fairly empty. I guess everyone was just too tired from their excursions to exercise.
I’d forgotten to bring a book to the gym, so I worked out on the treadmill nearest a television set and read the closed captioning for a movie. It was a stupid love story and I just wasn’t in the mood for it. What I needed was a good action movie that might take my mind off my parents, Brian, and everything else.
Forty minutes later, Tom came up to the treadmill. “I just got a call from Brian. He’s staying in Mazatlan with Leslie. It’s taking longer than he thought to get everything arranged. He said he’d catch up with us in Cabo San Lucas.”
“What about Carmelita?”
“He sent her back to the ship. He asked if we’d keep an eye on her tonight. He doesn’t sound like a killer, does he?”
“No, but maybe he’s staying with Leslie to kill her first. Then he’ll come back on the ship and murder Carmelita.”
Tom frowned.
“Okay.” I exhaled a big sigh. “That sounds pretty farfetched to me, too. I guess we’re back to someone else knocking off the cruising group.”
“A concession by the great Liza Wilcox, sleuth at large?”
“Okay, so maybe all my past experiences with cops have tarnished my opinion of them.”
“You know me.”
“Yeah, but I love you, that’s different.”
His face broke out in a huge smile and he leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips.
When he pulled away, asked, “What’s that for?”
“For saying you love me. I never get tired of hearing it. And for your often bizarre logic and ability to discard things when they stop making sense. I told Brian what you said about his parents.”
“What did he say?”
“At first he was mad that Justin had investigated him, but after he calmed down, he thought you just might be on to something about the Orion Company and their part in his parents’ deaths.”
“My logic isn’t bizarre.”
“Yes it is, Liza, but that’s what makes you a good investigator. You think of things no one else ever would have dreamed could be a possibility. Sometimes when we investigate, we get so attached to one of our suspects we can’t see anyone else. You quickly discarded Brian as a killer when it stopped making sense and moved on to the next suspect.”
“I haven’t totally discarded Brian. He could still be a killer.”
Tom grimaced.
“Let’s make sure Carmelita is back in her room before I change my opinion of Brian.”
On the way back to the cabins, we encountered the Kids Club scouring the ship looking for items on a scavenger hunt list.
“Do you have any paperclips?” A little girl, maybe seven, with pigtails and a yellow sundress asked us.
Tom and I shook our heads and off she went, giggling and obviously enjoying her time on the ship.
When we knocked on Carmelita’s door, a very large man answered. He was at least a foot taller than Tom and outweighed him by a hundred pounds; it was all muscle. His Hawaiian shirt with hula girls was pulled tight across his barrel of a chest and barely contained his huge biceps. It reminded me of the shirts my dad used to love, although he hadn’t filled them out the way this man did.
“Yes?” he said.
“We’re here to see Carmelita,” I said and tried to step around him.
The man put his hands out, blocking my way. “No, she’s sleeping and doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
Tom stepped between the man and me. His jaw tightened. “Who are you?”
“My name is Rod.”
“Who is it, Rod?” I heard a familiar voice.
“It’s us, Dorian,” I shouted. “Tell Mr. No-neck to let us by.”
I heard Dorian laugh. “It’s okay, Rod. Let them in.”
Rod stepped aside and Tom and I went into the room. Dorian was sitting on the couch watching television.
“Where’s Carmelita?” I asked.
“The poor thing fell asleep on the balcony. She went with Leslie and it was a nightmare.”
“Why? What happened?” I sat down next to him.
“Who’s the goon at the door?” Tom asked.
Dorian glanced at Tom for just a moment and then brought his attention back to me. “Rod is my bodyguard. I hired him after Brian told me about the deaths. I’m not really scared for my life, but I’m glad I did it now. He can keep an eye on Carmelita until Brian gets back.”
“And who’s going to protect you?” Tom said sarcastically.
Dorian smiled at me, his eyes glistening with delight. “I guess I’ll have to stay and entertain Carmelita.”
“Oh, lucky girl,” I smiled and said.
Dorian picked up my hand and kissed it. “You can stay too. Rod can watch us all and I’m perfectly capable of entertaining you both.”
“No.” Tom took my hand out of Dorian’s. “I can keep Liza safe.”
Dorian never even looked at Tom, his eyes were locked with mine. “Whatever you want, Liza.”
“What happened in Mazatlan?” I asked.
“The Mexican authorities are giving Leslie such a bad time. They want to do the autopsy and determine the cause of death before he leaves their port. Leslie doesn’t want them to touch him.”
“Brian’s not helping?”
“He’s doing his best, but even the FBI can’t tell the Mexican authorities what they can and can’t do.”
“What about you, Dorian? Do you have any pull with the Mexican authorities?” I asked.
“I’ve done my part to expedite the matters.” He smiled and reached up to touch my face.
Tom intercepted his hand. “Let’s go, Liza.”
I stood. “Are you taking Carmelita to dinner at the Supper Club?”
“No, Carmelita’s not up to going out and she refused to eat a snack I brought earlier, too. I’ll order room service and I just might have to feed it to her.”
I turned toward the door and glanced back. “I’ll say it again, lucky girl.”
When we got back to our room, Tom didn’t say a word. We showered separately. We showered so many times every day that I felt like I would be permanently wrinkled. Then we dressed for dinner.
As we were leaving the room, I stopped him. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, please. You’re as transparent as glass. What’s the problem?”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t like the way that man talks to you or touches you or the way you look at him.”
I laughed. Tom frowned. I took his hand and led hi
m back to the couch. “Sit down.”
“No, we’ve got to get to dinner.”
“Dinner can wait. Let me explain something to you.”
“What?” He scowled.
“Sit down, please.”
He sat on the couch.
I paced around the room, and each time Tom tried to speak I put my hand up. I needed to explain this to him without saying Dorian makes me want to abandon all my reserve and jump into bed with him.
I tried a metaphor. “Let me see if I can put this into perspective. Is there anything in your life you’ve wanted very badly but knew it was bad for you?”
He glared.
“Come on, there must be something.”
“I wanted a Harley.”
“A motorcycle?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They’re cool.”
“What else?”
“I think it would be great to ride one and feel the wind blow on my face and to feel the speed. In a car you can go fast, but you can’t feel the speed the way you would on a motorcycle.”
“Why don’t you buy one?”
“I’ve seen too many accidents involving motorcycles. They’re dangerous.”
“But it would be fun, right?”
“Yes.” He beamed.
“And what do you do every time you see one?”
“Wish I had one.”
“And dream about riding one?”
“Sure.”
“But do you go out and buy one?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Okay, would you stop anyone else from enjoying it?”
“Of course not.”
“Okay, Dorian is like a motorcycle.”
“Huh?”
“He’s fun to look at, maybe even dream about, and I certainly wouldn’t stop anyone else from enjoying his company. But he’s definitely not good for me.”
“Why not?” Tom asked.
“You want to know why I’d rather be with you than him. Is that the real question?”
Tom nodded. “He’s got looks and lots of money.”
“That he does, but I don’t love him.” Tom started to speak, but I put my hand up, “Wait, it’s more than that.”
“More than loving me?”
“Yes. Dorian’s like a butterfly; he flitters from flower to flower and never settles down. I want someone I can spend the rest of my life with.”
Tom smiled. “I thought he was a motorcycle.”
I sighed. The man was irritating and my metaphors were starting to annoy even me. I’d try the direct approach. “No, he is a gorgeous, rich man who oozes with sexual tension. When he touches me I want to rip his clothes off, but I don’t because it would seriously hurt our relationship.”
Tom grinned. “I liked him as a butterfly or motorcycle better.”
I took a deep breath and before I could speak, Tom leaned over and kissed me.
Two hours later I made him order room service.
“I don’t care what you order; just make sure they send a chocolate melting cake,” I told him as I got into the shower, again.
A few minutes later, Tom joined me. This time we ended up back in bed and nobody was frustrated.
The food arrived with two chocolate melting cakes.
“You ordered two?” I asked.
“I’ve got to see what all this fuss is about.”
“Oh, let me.” I picked up the spoon, dipped it in the chocolate, then into the ice cream, and then back into the chocolate. I brought it to his lips. “Ready?”
“Sure,” he said.
“No, you have to be really ready for it.” I pulled the spoon away from him. “Are you sure you want it?”
“Liza, just give me a taste.”
I pulled the spoon further away. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Okay, close your eyes.”
“This is ridiculous. It’s just cake.”
“No, it’s much more than that. Close your eyes.”
Tom sighed and closed his eyes.
“Now, open your mouth.”
He opened his mouth and I slid the cake inside.
“Well?” I said.
Tom opened his eyes. “I don’t see what the excitement is all about. It’s just chocolate and vanilla ice cream.”
“Let me try something else.” I used my finger as a spoon and held it to his lips.
“Try this.”
He smiled, closed his eyes, and I slid my finger into his mouth. He sucked on it.
When he opened his eyes, he was smiling. “Okay, I get it. Do you think we can have chocolate melting cake for our wedding?”
“No.” I laughed. “It’s just for you and me to enjoy.” I dipped my finger into the mixture again and held it toward Tom.
Just as he leaned into take it, his phone rang. His brows puckered, “Justin has the worst timing.”
I gazed at him and licked my own finger.
Tom shuddered. “Okay, watching you eat it is better than eating it myself.”
“What?” he yelled into the phone. “When?” he said, calmer. “How? Okay, thanks.”
He closed his phone.
Tom sat down on the couch next to me.
“Who was it?” I asked.
“My friend from the FBI.”
“Did he find out anything about Brian?” I asked. Maybe he really was our killer and this whole ordeal would be over.
“Not exactly. He got a call from the Mexican police a few minutes ago. Brian’s dead.”
“What?” I said.
Chapter 31
“What do you mean Brian’s dead?” I asked.
“They found him in an alley. His throat had been cut.”
I dropped my face into my hands. “Oh, my God.”
Tom put his arm around my shoulder.
I looked up at him. “First a gun, then poison, and now a knife? How can one person be an expert in so many ways to kill?”
“Well, Brian’s crime scene was not neat and clean like the others. He put up a fight, and they think he got off a shot at his killer and hit him. They found two different types of blood in the alley.”
“That’s three people in less than a week.”
He nodded. “I know. Something’s escalating, but I have no idea what it is or why.”
“We’ve got to tell Carmelita and Dorian.” I walked toward their door.
Tom stood between me and the door. “It’s almost eleven, Liza. We can tell them about it in the morning. Let them have a good night’s sleep.”
“Carmelita is going to be beside herself.”
“Probably, but I’m sure Dorian will be there to comfort her,” Tom said sarcastically.
“I hope so,” I replied, ignoring his tone. “I wonder what their plans are for tomorrow. What time do we have to be off the boat?”
“We don’t actually dock in Cabo. We have to take a small boat called a tender to shore.”
“Check the tickets, what time do we have to leave the boat?”
Tom got the tickets from the safe. “We have to be in the Carousel Room at seven-thirty.”
“In the morning?” I shrieked.
“Yes.”
I snatched the tickets out of his hand. “I don’t remember it being so early. Can’t we move it to a later time, like we did in Puerto Vallarta?”
“No, we’re only in Cabo a few hours. The boat sails at three. All of the excursions leave early in the morning.”
“We’re going to be on a catamaran that early?”
“We leave the ship at seven-thirty, Liza. I bet we don’t get on the catamaran until after nine.”
“That’s still too early to get into the water.”
“I heard the water is cold, anyway.”
“What? This is Mexico, the water is supposed to be warm.”
“A cold current came through from the north a month ago. It dropped the water temperature down.”
“To what?”
&
nbsp; “Into the sixties.”
My eyes widened. “There’s no way I’m getting into the water if it’s only sixty degrees.”
“So we’ll lie on the boat and enjoy the ride. We could use some relaxation.”
“We had that today when we were on the beach,” I reminded him.
“No, we had a constant barrage of people selling us things we had no desire to buy.”
“Okay, but we need to tell Dorian about Brian. He’ll need to stay with Carmelita all day tomorrow, and I’m not sure he planned on that.”
“That’s true.”
“So we either disturb them now or in the morning.”
“Okay.”
I walked around him and knocked lightly on the door.
Dorian opened it immediately, dressed in a silk black bathrobe. I sighed and Tom frowned.
“What can I do for you, Liza?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure, Carmelita’s finally sleeping. It’s been a rough evening; even I couldn’t get her to relax.”
“Loosing your touch, Dorian,” Tom said behind me.
I frowned at him but stepped aside.
“Come on in.”
Dorian looked back. “Let me make sure she’s asleep. I’ll be there in a just a minute.”
“Okay.” I nodded and stepped back into our room. I turned to Tom. “You behave.”
“If he’s a motorcycle, I’m a hummer. I’m going to squash him every chance I get.”
“Men!” I rolled my eyes.
Dorian came in a few minutes later. “She’s resting comfortably. What can I do for you?”
There wasn’t any good way to say it so I blurted it out. “Brian’s dead.”
“How?” Dorian turned to Tom, finally acknowledging his existence.
“His throat was cut. They found his body a few hours ago in an alley in Mazatlan,” Tom said.
Dorian shook his head and sighed deeply. “I’d originally planned an excursion for tomorrow, but maybe I’ll call and cancel it.”
“Carmelita could use the distraction,” I suggested.
Dorian nodded. “Then I’ll take her with me tomorrow. She won’t want to go, but I’ll convince her. What about you two? Would you like to join us?”
“No,” Tom said. “We’ve got tickets for an excursion.”
