by Murcer, Rick
Sophie gripped the railing. “Lynn Casnovsky. My affair was with Lynn Casnovsky,” she breathed.
CHAPTER-25
Sally May Thompson was glad this Monday was over. Today had been especially busy because two cruise ships had steamed into Charlotte-Amalie. She didn’t care for the busy days. It was too hot to work that hard.
“Dees people bought everything from logo golf balls to cheap tee shirts dat wouldn’t last da year. Fools dey were, no doubt,” she marveled.
The faded numbers on the yellowed clock were barely visible. But she didn’t have to see the digits to know when it was quittin’ time. She had worked the tourist shop at Trunk Bay for almost thirteen years, and there were no surprises. She could feel when it was time to finish the day’s work.
“SSDD. Same Shit, Different Day,” she rued.
The job paid the bills, and she was grateful, but there had to be more to life than listening to starry-eyed tourists dressed like clowns ramble on about how beautiful Trunk Bay was.
Her pointed thoughts caused her to look toward the almost deserted beach. “Well, dey got dat part right, at least. But dey still damn fools for telling O’ Sally ‘bout it all day.”
Sally May turned off the latest Bob Marley tune bawling from the old radio and reached an ebony hand underneath the warped bamboo counter. She located her secret mini-cubby and brought out a pint of the island’s best homemade, 70-proof rum.
Once uncorked, she swung the clear bottle to her nose and inhaled with zest. “Mercy. What rum! It not only clears de troat but clears de sinuses, too.” She purged a full belly laugh. “But I tink I like de troat clearing better, don’t ya know.”
Following two long draws, Sally May snorted her appreciation and stashed the bottle back under the counter, wiping away a couple of stray drops that had fallen on her flowered frock. That was enough for now. It wouldn’t do for the wife of a Baptist preacher, a Southern Baptist preacher no less, to come home three-sheets to the breeze. She laughed again.
If God didn’t want us to have de rum, why would He make it, I wonder?
Still, she had to keep up appearances. What would people say?
My, doz people would talk, dey would.
With a weary grunt, Sally May raised up from her stool, restocked the quaint little shop, then switched to the paperwork for the day’s sales. Balancing the receipts had never been a problem. She had always been good with numbers even though she only possessed a tenth-grade education. After she had gotten herself pregnant with Cedric, her first of three children, going back to school was never really on her agenda. Besides, there was no reason for her to go back; she needed no more education.
Sally May finished up, balanced to the penny, as usual, and bundled up the cash and credit card worksheets for the auditor who marched in every morning to check her work.
Talk bout a mon that needed a shot of de rum. He don’t trus nobody, not even his Mama.
The anal mannerisms of the government auditor caused her to wonder about his childhood. Sally May had no idea why he, or others, flew that way. It didn’t jibe with island culture. Not a bad looking fellow, though.
She reached for the black strongbox to lock up the money and noticed the tightly wrapped package that had come for Dot Maxwell. She could see it was from the ranger’s family on the mainland. It may very well be the package that girl had been asking about for the last week. Dot was so excited with the prospects of getting it; her eyes would sparkle when she asked if it had arrived. She wouldn’t tell her what it was, but wanted to show Old Sally.
Odd, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen Dot since early morning. Sometimes the girl would go out into the brush and take pictures of the wild donkeys, crested hummingbirds, or a basking iguana. Dot loved wildlife photography and wanted someday to try making a living at it. Sally May thought she spent more time out there since that “incident” about six months ago. Dot hadn’t told her everything—just that she wasn’t really raped, more like terrorized. Anyway, since then, every once in a while, Dot simply lost track of time and would come back late, but usually not this late.
“Maybe she had one of dem stuffy meetings at de Govnar’s house,” she mumbled to herself.
The ocean breeze stiffened into a comfortable gust, and Sally May closed her eyes and basked in its coolness. When “her” ocean decided to cuddle like this, she could stand in it all day. Eventually, the kissing ended, and she spun back to reality.
The oblong package called her name, and she reflected how thrilled Dot would be to get it. And maybe she would show Sally May what was in the damn thing.
I guess supper can be a tiny bit late; we’ll all survive, I tink.
With the strongbox locked, she bent over to place it into the thousand-pound safe buried in the ground, slammed the door, and spun the combination dial four times. She straightened up with a wince and rubbed her considerable back. “Dis getting old shit is fo de birds, fo sho,” she groaned out loud.
Once the shop was secured and the alarm set, she firmly placed the brown paper package in her meaty hand and headed for the ranger’s cottage. Dot was scheduled to work until 5 p.m. so she had hopes of catching her. She could at least drop off the package inside the screen door.
She plodded down the sandy path and ambled toward the steps of the weather-worn porch. Her breathing became labored, like she’d been running a 5K race. She swore she was going to lose the extra weight. This time for sure.
Reaching the foot of the stoop, she crutched her hand on a round knee and looked upward to the stand of trees. Usually there were sounds of agitated or singing birds filling the air, but there was no noise echoing from the mahogany trees lining the path. Strange. She dismissed the thought and remembered why she had come to Dot’s hut.
The top step moaned in protest as she scuffled up the steps and raised a hand to knock, but the inside door was already open an inch. A twinge of uneasiness pulled at her. Dot wouldn’t leave the office without locking the door. She was too methodical to make that kind of mistake, and that computer was worth some money.
“Dot, girl is you dere? Dot? I got dat package from home. “No response from Dot caused her nervousness to escalate. She looked to her right and noticed that the shade was drawn on the front window. She didn’t recall that being closed. Ever.
Senses on full alert, she gently leaned the package against the hut and clutched the worn out door handle, finally working up sufficient courage to pull open the rusty screen door, slowly pushing the inside door with her free hand. It swung open and then abruptly stopped as something blocked its path.
An unfamiliar odor prompted Sally May to wrinkle her nose. “What de hell is dat?”
The metallic scent hung in the air like a helium balloon. Her body tensed even more, and her eyes grew wider as she poked her head through the partially opened door.
“Dot? Dot, do ya hear me, woman?”
No response came from the darkened room. The thumping in her head grew louder. The quiet inside the small cabin was as unnerving as the stillness surrounding it. She moved a little farther through the entrance. Just as her hand slid up the door’s smooth wood, movement trapped the corner of her eye.
“MEEOOOWWWW” split the humid air as Scully, Dot’s big tiger cat, raced through the doors in a frenzied rush, brushing past Sally May’s sizeable calf. The cat scampered toward places unknown.
Sally May screamed. Her arms launched into the air causing her to twist off balance and slam flush into the inside door. The door gave way, and she tumbled backwards. Her world spun in slow motion as she plummeted out of control. There was a resounding thump as she landed full on her backside.
“Damn o’ cat! What you tryin’ to do, kill ol’ Sally?” she yelled.
The preacher’s wife closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated on steadying her frazzled nerves. She took a deep breath and looked around the shadowy room. She could make out the dark shape of the computer desk and realized that the window facing the south
had the shade drawn too. In fact, all four shades were pulled. The sickly odor was so intense she could taste it. She placed her right hand behind her to brace herself. Something cold and sticky clung to her palm, and she pulled it away like she had just touched the burner of a hot stovetop.
“What in God’s name?” She rolled over to her hands and knees, pushed herself up, and hurried to open the blinds.
Her eyes grew large as she saw the blood on her hand. Her gaze moved past her hand and rested on Dot Maxwell. The park ranger’s unseeing eyes stared at the dark ceiling. Dot had been stripped of her clothes. Her throat and breasts looked like they had been served to barracudas for lunch. There were dark bruises tattooed about her face and neck. Large chunks of flesh were missing from her left thigh. A solitary black rose rested across her torso.
As reality caught up with the incomprehensible, she screamed, again.
Then Sally May was overcome by the strongest of all instincts, and she scrambled out of the cabin, moving with unexpected speed for a woman her size, toward the shop and the phone, all along speaking prayers to God to keep her safe from the demon who had murdered her friend.
She dialed the police. Waiting for a response, she was struck with an odd thought. Dot would never get to see what was in that package. She would never tell Sally May what she’d been so excited to share. She didn’t know why, but that seemed important.
The dispatcher came on line, and Sally May quickly reported what she had seen, maintaining a surprisingly poised manner.
After she hung up, all of the emotion building from the previous ten minutes erupted like a broken water pipe. Her ebony body heaved with hysterical sobs. She wept for Dot, but for herself too. Sally May would never be the same. How could she be? The devil had just shown her his work up close and personal.
CHAPTER-26
Lynn Casnovsky? His partner cheating with his good friend’s husband? It seemed crazy, made up.
To top it off, Lynn had a sadistic and domineering itch that Sophie was scratching? They had both walked a dangerous line and were lucky they hadn’t been caught.
Once Sophie had confessed her lover’s name, she’d hurried back to one of the padded benches, away from her friends, away from him. She’d plopped down and hung her head. Her contrite action could have been convicting shame or sheer relief. Manny thought a little of both. It had taken courage to go this far down the road to confession. He respected Sophie for that, but he wondered if some things could ever be fixed, really recovered from. He didn’t have to dig too deep to find the answer.
There would be time to talk later. For now, the truth would have to do. He ran his fingers through his hair and realized that was the first step to figuring out this mess.
After the Sunkist dropped its passengers back in St. Thomas, Louise wanted to go shopping at the strip mall right at the pier where the Ocean Duchess was docked.
“Come, on. Every woman wants to shop in St. Thomas,” she begged.
He never could say no to her.
“Tell you what, let’s go eat, change into something other than these beach clothes and then I’ll go shopping with you. Deal?”
“Good idea. I guess that’s why you make the big bucks, huh?”
“Yeah, and don’t forget it.” He forgave her fist to his shoulder.
The others decided to head to the mall first; they would catch up with Manny and Louise at dinner.
Manny watched as Randy and Sophie strolled hand-in-hand toward the pier’s shopping sharks. As the couple grew smaller in his sight, a helpless sigh escaped his mouth. His partner and her mate were an odd couple, no debating that, but he thought they could hold it together. He’d seen worse marriages survive more apocalyptic circumstances, and he hoped he would be right on this one.
Louise hurried him across the shaky gangplank, and they rushed into the elevator to the bistro-lined Lido Deck.
Cruise ships are notorious for the mountains of food served daily and, today, Manny and Louise claimed their share of the mother lode.
The Mexican buffet—complete with the familiar smell of warm cheese, spicy chicken and beef, and cilantro-laced salsa—was almost more than Manny could take. He chased it all down with the vanilla-and-chocolate-swirled ice cream cones. Manny devoured three as Louise looked on.
“You’re going to the gym after we get back from shopping, right?” she teased.
“I think it would be better if you worked it off me when we get back to the cabin.”
“You do, do you? That could be arranged, if you’re a good boy,” she said, running her hand slowly through the hair of his forearm.
“I’m always a good boy.”
She laughed and they left, Manny leading the way to their stateroom.
He shut the cabin door and before Louise could walk out of arm’s reach, he cradled her and brought her close, nuzzling the back of her neck, something that always got her attention.
“Not fair,” she giggled. Louise turned and kissed him with surprising hunger.
“Wow. What they say about these cruises being an aphrodisiac could be true,” he said.
Louise stepped away from him and in one motion, removed the top of her bathing suit. “Then what do these do for you?”
Manny swooped up his wife and headed for the bed. “Let me show you.”
Their lips came together again with mutual tenderness. Manny kissed her eyes, her ears; gently he teased the soft underside of her throat. She ran her hands over his back and cradled his head as she kissed him. Fire swirled from her lips. The heat of their breathing increased, like a hot, Caribbean wind. They moved closer, and Manny felt her soft breasts press against his chest. She felt wonderful.
His hand ran along the curve of her hip, and he pulled her closer. Not in a heated lust, but with gentle, loving response to each other. Two people in love, making love.
Afterwards, she grabbed his face with her hands and moved slowly to his side. “I love you, Manny Williams.”
He kissed her face and pulled her close to him. “I love you too, baby.”
Fifteen minutes later, Manny and Louise showered, then rambled for the shops of St. Thomas. As they worked their way through the forward hall of the ship, Manny noticed the Do Not Disturb sign still hanging on the Casnovsky's room. The sign refused to mask its taunting leer.
Louise glanced at the sign. “Liz never called you back, did she?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Okay. Maybe this is a little weird. They could be seasick though. Didn’t they say it happened to them on the last cruise they took?”
Without answering, he knocked on the door. They waited. He knocked again. No one answered. Manny raised his arm to hammer the door again when Louise stopped him.
“Whatever they’re doing, let them do it. It’s their trip, and if they want to spend it in the cabin, it’s fine. Besides, there’s a million other places they could be, yes?”
“Could be, but it doesn’t feel right. Maybe something’s wrong.”
“Like what? What could be wrong? It’s a cruise ship. How much safer could it be?”
She was right, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of doubt. Especially since Liz hadn’t returned his calls.
His right hand glided through his hair—the old habit resurrected in times of stress—and he pressed his lips into a straight line.
Liz would have contacted someone if they had changed their minds about the excursion. It was how the woman operated.
“This is what we’ll do; if this sign isn’t gone by the time we get back, we’ll have the room steward open the door. Okay?” Louise said.
He nodded. “All right. That works for me.”
*****
The couple continued down the hall toward the elevator, holding hands. The door four rooms down from the Casnovsky’s opened to a narrow slit. The big man watched the detective and his wife turn the corner and entertained a toxic smile.
Think about it. What could go wrong on a cruise ship?
/> CHAPTER-27
Standing on the breezy balcony, after he had wrangled into the black tux, Manny watched the foamy wake of the big ship as it headed out to open water and the island of Dominica. (Pronounced Dom-a-neeka.)
The shopping in St. Thomas had been great for Louise, and Manny appreciated the alone time they had enjoyed. Added to that, Louise had found the perfect necklace. An emerald-studded pendant, shaped like a teardrop. It hung from a thin, white-gold chain. Manny had to admit it looked like it belonged around her neck.
He grinned when he thought of the shell-shocked clerk. By the time Louise had concluded her bargaining, the clerk had gone from “how I can help you” to “get this daughter of Satan away from me.” But Louise had saved hundreds, and that was a good thing.
He left the balcony as she stepped from the bathroom. He nearly fell over.
She was wearing a strapless, jade gown with shimmering white rhinestones trailing across the front and down pleated sides. The new necklace completed the stunning look. “Well?”
He whistled in a low tone. “You’re going to turn every head on the ship. Just don’t forget who you’re married to.”
“I won’t, babycakes. Now let’s go.” She grabbed her wrap and proceeded to the door.
When he stepped into the hall, Manny remembered that he was going to stop by Liz and Lynn’s room, but in the rush to get ready, it had slipped his mind.
“This will only take a minute,” he said.
A small, dark-complexioned room steward named Usman, from Indonesia, exited the room directly across the hall at the same time Manny reached the Casnovsky’s cabin.
The insidious Do Not Disturb sign still hung from the door. Manny quickly explained the problem, and Usman verified that he hadn’t been in the room since the night before because he had to honor the sign. The steward said he couldn’t open the door without his supervisor and left to find her. He came back less than a minute later with Raduca, his Romanian boss, a large woman with bright-blue eyes, who had good English skills and a pleasant personality.
