“Adrienne!” A hand grabbed at my arm at the same time.
“Hi, Kelly,” I said with a smile. She looked just as busy as ever, and she ran a hand over her forehead as she greeted me, wiping away imaginary sweat.
“Do you know who did it?”
“Err?” Did she mean the murder? I didn’t think that was what she meant.
“The thing. The film. The wrong one.”
Kelly often rushed through things, and it ended up making her slower. If she had just explained what she meant clearly from the start, it would have been a lot easier to answer her.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
Kelly put her hands on her hips and stomped a foot. “Yesterday! The movies at the drive-in. They showed Competition Corpses! Can you believe it?”
“Believe it? I watched it.”
“You watched it! And you didn’t stop it?”
“Umm. No? Why would I”
Kelly shook her head to herself in annoyance. Not at me—at least I didn’t think so.
“That film, it’s the one that ends with Zoya being stabbed in a drive-in, right?”
“Right. That’s the one.”
“We weren’t supposed to show it! Not after what happened. The organizers of the cruise specifically told me not to show it! And it wasn’t even supposed to be on yesterday anyway. Originally, it was going to be the big finale horror movie, shown tomorrow. But somehow it got shown last night instead!”
“It did strike me as a little tasteless. But don’t worry, the audience seemed to enjoy it.”
“They weren’t supposed to enjoy it! Do you know who arranged for it to be played?”
“Nope. I assumed it was you, but I have no idea.”
“Well, it wasn’t me.” Kelly stomped her foot again. “If you do find out, let me know.”
“So what are you showing instead for the finale?”
Kelly tried to remember the title. She obviously wasn’t a massive fan of the genre either. “It’s one that Susan Shelly was the star of. I think it’s called Prom Queen Killers.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“No,” said Kelly shaking her head seriously. “It’s another horror movie.”
“I was kidding.”
“Oh! Ha, ha, ha! Very good. Delightful!”
My phone buzzed in my hand. It was Ethan.
“Gotta go!” Kelly waved at me and started trotting off before I could even say goodbye.
“Hey,” I said as I answered. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Two Scoops—” Yay! “—But I’ve got to go. I just got a call about another theft.” No!
“Hold on! I’m right outside.” I hung up the phone right away.
Two Scoops was just around the corner, so I walked the few steps it took to get there. Ethan was standing outside in his brilliant white-and-gold uniform, staring down at his phone. Probably because I’d just hung up on him.
“What’s happening?”
He looked up with a smile before he frowned again. “I just got a call. There’s been another theft.”
“You didn’t let them go, did you?”
“What? The Princes? No. This is something different. At least I think it is.”
“What’s gone missing?”
“A tiara of all things. It didn’t belong to one of the guests, thank goodness. It’s one of the props for the big finale tomorrow. They tell me it’s very important.”
“Ugh. I guess you’d better go and deal with it. I’ll eat your ice cream for you.”
Ethan laughed and gave me a peck on the lips.
“Hey, are we allowed to do that?”
“Actually… no. But I couldn’t resist. If I can’t have ice cream, I thought I deserved something else that’s sweet, right?”
I squeezed his arm. “Good luck with the tiara.”
“We’ll try and do dinner. I’ll send you a message later.”
“Bye!”
I decided to get some work done instead. I could start outlining my article about ten neat places as soon as I sat down.
Luckily, Two Scoops had plenty of seats. It seemed a shame to waste them.
With a ting-a-ling of the shop’s bell, I went inside to eat ice cream—I mean, do some work.
It’s a tough life, sometimes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
That evening, I was on my way to have dinner with Ethan. While I was strolling through the Grand Atrium again, I saw my new friend and possible murderer, Susan Shelly, dressed like the star she had always wanted to be.
She was wearing a long satin ballgown and her hair was pulled up atop her head. She wore a diamond necklace with diamond earrings and looked like a million dollars.
“Susan!” I said, greeting her. “You look wonderful.”
She smiled at me, no hint of the alcohol she’d been drinking at lunch visible on her well made-up face.
“Thank you. I still clean up okay when I put my mind to it.”
“Are you and Judd going on a date?”
Susan laughed. “No, nothing like that.” She made a show of peering over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening in. “Nothing as fun as that. Another photo session with the guests.”
“Oh! I didn’t know about that one. I would have come along had I realized. But I’ve got a date myself!”
“That’s wonderful. This is a last-minute change, I think. Zoya was supposed to do it, but, well, you know. So they’re stuck with me instead.” Susan looked down at her dress. “I’m a little surprised by the outfit they’ve given me. In Zoya’s films, she was always dressed casually—camping out in the woods, making out with the quarterback at the drive-in, that kind of thing. This is more like what I wore for Prom Queen Killers!” She peered down at the dress again. “Come to think of it, exactly like it!”
“Oh, that was probably our cruise director, Kelly. She has her moments. I’m sure she looked you up online and chose an appropriate outfit.”
“Do you think so? Then I’m pleased. It’s nice not to still be playing Zoya’s body double!”
“Good luck with the photos!”
“Ciao!”
Feeling pleased for the actress, I continued on my way to meet Ethan in the International Buffet. It was his choice. He liked the anonymity of the cavernous restaurant. The smaller, more intimate venues tended to have more of the VIP guests who’d insist on talking with him—or even cajoling him to join their table.
He wasn’t by the door, so I decided to head to one of the tables for two. Most of the tables were large ones for big groups, but around the support pillars, the smaller tables were set up.
After scanning them just to check and see if he was actually there already, which he wasn’t, I chose a secluded table next to a pillar and a dividing partition wall.
I popped my black clutch onto the table, and just as I was about to sit down I saw Greg Washington, one of the ship’s senior chefs, heading my way.
Ahh, one of the perks of being known. Personal greetings from the chef himself. One of them, anyway. Greg and I were friends, or at least pretty close colleagues, so it was natural for him to come and say hello. Since he was working, he was of course dressed in his chef’s whites, including the tall hat. I very much approved of that—doctors should have stethoscopes, and chefs should have those tall white hats.
“Hey girl. You got the message, right?”
“No…” I reached for my bag to pull out my phone. I stopped because it looked like I didn’t need to bother; Greg was going to tell me.
“Ethan was here, but he got called away. He wanted me to tell you how absolutely and completely sorry he was, and how he would definitely, definitely make it up to you.”
“Huh. Great.” Sam and Cece had already gone to dinner in the staff mess. I was going to have to eat alone.
“But it’s not all bad news. I’ve got something for you.” Greg handed over a large envelope that had been tucked under his arm.
“What did you
get me, Greg?”
“Not from me, honey. Some bald guy left it for you. As soon as Ethan was gone, he asked if he was supposed to be meeting you, and if so, could I give you this. So… voila.”
“Was he wearing a Hawaiian shirt by any chance?”
“Actually, I think he was. He had on a sportscoat over the top, but now you mention it, I think that’s what he was wearing underneath.”
Huh. Our mystery man, the fake housekeeper, had made another appearance. And he’d left a gift for me. I wondered if I should open it carefully.
“Thanks.”
Greg watched while I opened it. Inside the large envelope was another envelope. This one was actually much larger than the one it was contained in, but it was empty and had been folded over twice in order to fit.
What a gift, huh? An empty envelope.
I unfolded it and saw that it was used. Even better, a second-hand empty envelope. I stared at the front, slowly beginning to realize its significance.
It was addressed to Zoya Maxwell, and the postmark was from about two weeks ago. It had been stamped with the mark of the New Orleans post office.
A large envelope, to Zoya, from New Orleans. It must have contained the script. She’d received it in the mail. I looked over the rest of the envelope, turning it over in my hands, but unfortunately there was no return address.
“Look, there’s a note,” said Greg, pointing down at the table. It had fallen out when I’d withdrawn the envelope.
I picked it up and examined it. It only had one sentence, and it simply read, I told you I’m on your side. It was unsigned.
“What is that junk?” asked Greg, clearly unimpressed.
“Nothing important,” I said with a forced laugh. I didn’t want to explain everything to Greg right then.
Just who was it that had sent the envelope to Zoya? It was from New Orleans, so there was a good chance it was connected to the ship, or the cruise line. But who could it have been, and why?
“Are you going to be at the big movie tomorrow night?”
I looked up at Greg, a little startled. I’d let my thoughts run away from me.
“What movie?”
“Prom Queen Killers!”
“Ohh! Right, yeah, I know.” It was what Kelly had been talking about earlier. “Umm, yeah, I guess so. I probably should be.”
“It’s a classic. I haven’t seen it in years and years, but watching it with the star there is going to be awesome. Don’t you think?”
“Right. Yeah, I guess? Horror’s not really my thing.”
“The ending…” Greg opened his mouth and looked up to the heavens, remembering it in awe.
“What happens at the end?”
“Girl, don’t you know anything? This is a movie cruise!”
“I told you it’s not my genre.”
“All right, so, picture it.” Greg stood with his arms spread wide, his face lit up with glee. “You’ve got the prom queen, standing center stage. She’s just been crowned. Sparkly new tiara on top of her head, beautiful gown, she looks like a million bucks.”
Better than looking like a thousand bucks, I thought.
“Uh-huh.” It didn’t sound very interesting to me. It sounded a bit like a beauty pageant, in fact, and I’d had enough of those in an earlier cruise.
“She’s standing there, holding this big old bunch of red roses, when… slash!” Greg made a cutting motion through the air. “Her throat gets sliced open, and blood sprays everywhere, like all over the camera. It’s sick—in more ways than one! For the rest of the movie, there’s these red blood spatters across the screen, like the lens is covered in blood. And the red roses she’s holding? So symbolic. The blood drips down off the petals.”
“It sounds horrible, Greg. Absolutely horrible.”
Thanks to his vivid description, I was now imagining the horrible scene in my mind.
“Wait, that was Susan Shelly’s movie, right?”
“Yep. And she’s going to be there for a Q&A as well!”
“Umm, what about the photo session she’s doing today?”
“Today? Why would she do one today? That’s tomorrow, after the movie, after the Q&A. No, she’s—”
I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I sprinted out of the room as fast as my legs would carry me.
I had to find Susan.
Now.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I got all of the way out of the International Buffet before I skidded to a stop. There was one problem. I didn’t know where I was going.
I pulled out my phone and opened the schedule of events on the ship. I scanned it, knowing I wouldn’t find this fake photo opportunity. But I was hoping for one other piece of information: where it wasn’t.
If I checked all the other events, I could eliminate all those venues. There were movies showing at the pool deck, so it wasn’t there. There was a Robin Hood banquet in the Grand Ballroom. It wouldn’t be in any of the restaurants because there would be too many witnesses.
Think, Adrienne, think!
It had to be somewhere you wouldn’t expect to find people. But grand enough that Susan would believe it was the right place.
Could such a place even exist on a cruise ship? All the space was used very carefully—we didn’t have big, beautiful empty unused rooms just scattered about the ship.
“Or do we…”
“Do we what?” asked Greg. He’d followed me out and was now standing next to me, already out of breath.
“Someone’s going to try and kill Susan! We’ve got to save her!”
“Who is? Where?”
“I think… I hope… in Casanova’s.”
“Casanova’s? That nightclub’s closed, remember? They’re going to remodel it.”
“Exactly! It’s the only place I can think of where they could trick Susan into going. Every other major venue is already booked for some event.”
“Huh.” Greg wiped his forehead. “I have no idea why anyone would want to kill Susan, but I’m coming with you! Let’s go!”
We sprinted through the ship, Greg panting twice as hard as me as we did so, boosting my self-esteem just a smidgeon. The nightclub was located low down in the ship, near the staff quarters and away from the passenger cabins.
When we arrived, the double doors were wide open, and light was pouring out from inside. We slowed to a walk, and breathing heavily, snuck inside.
Sitting up on the stage, was Susan Shelly, looking somewhat nervous. The lights were shining down on her, but there wasn’t anyone else around.
I had a feeling that someone else was there though, but we just couldn’t see them yet.
I tapped Greg on the shoulder. “Go outside and call Ethan. Tell him we’ve found the stolen tiara… and the murderer.”
Greg nodded at me and started to make his way out.
I looked around for a weapon, but the nightclub was devoid of, well, everything. It was a large, currently empty room. All the water-damaged furniture had been dragged out, and all that was left were the stage, the DJ booth, and the dance floor.
Huh.
And one more thing.
Just to the left of me was a large bubble machine. During themed nights, it filled the whole club with bubbles. DJs would get people to have bubble popping competitions and all kinds of other fun.
I wasn’t strong enough to swing around a giant bubble machine. But there was one thing I could do. I reached out to it, and from the top I removed the bottle of bubble solution. It was attached to a little tube that pumped the liquid inside to make the bubbles.
Having gotten shampoo in my eyes earlier that day already, I knew how useful soap could be in fending off an attacker.
Clasping the bottle in hand, I began to walk to the front of the room.
“Susan?” I called out. “Are you okay?”
“Not really, dear, no,” she called back, a wan smile on her face. “Is that Adrienne? I can’t see you. I’m blinded by the light.”
She was directl
y under the glare of several different spotlights, and the area of the room I was in was unlit, apart from the illumination that made its way back from the stage.
“Yes, it’s me. Why don’t you come down here?”
“I can’t. I’m tied up. With dental floss.”
“With what?”
“Dental floss,” said a man’s voice. “It’s almost as strong as fishing line, and if you use enough of it, it’s unbreakable. I learned it from one of Zoya’s movies.”
That explained why I hadn’t noticed she was bound—the floss was basically invisible under the bright lights.
“Why don’t you come out?” I shouted.
And he did.
From behind Susan rose the form of Kirk Field, holding a large knife in his hand.
“I’ve got a knife.” He waved it through the air just above the tiara sitting on Susan’s head.
“Yes, yes you do. Why don’t you put it down?”
“Oh, no, we can’t do that. That wouldn’t be right.”
“Don’t do anything rash, Kirk. I’m sure we can sort this out. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on?”
Kirk stood up straight, right behind Susan, and rested the knife on top of the tiara as if it was tiring him out holding it up. Leaving it balanced there, he crouched down and picked up something else from the floor behind Susan.
When he stood up again, he was holding a bunch of roses. The same bouquet I’d seen him buying in Daffodils. He placed it in Susan’s lap and picked up his knife again, now resting it on her shoulder, closer to her neck.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, Kirk. Tell us what’s wrong. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. Susan’s very nice.”
“No, she isn’t! She isn’t, she isn’t, she isn’t!”
Taken aback by the intensity of his anger, I shut my mouth for a minute.
“She’s as bad as Zoya!”
“What happened to Zoya?” asked Susan.
“Be quiet!” snapped Kirk in her ear. “I’ll talk to her—” he pointed at me with the knife. “—but not you, traitor.”
“It’s okay, Kirk,” I said. “Tell me about Zoya.”
“Zoya. Oh, how I loved Zoya. She was my princess, my queen, the light of my life!”
Deadly Cruise: A Humorous Cruise Ship Cozy Mystery (Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries Book 7) Page 19
