Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries 11 - Cruise Control

by A. R. Winters

  “That proves nothing. I didn’t want Vernon dead. He was my best friend.”

  “But his refusal to push the company delayed your ambitions. He was in the way. So you killed him. You got the job done so Sebastian could take control… and maybe you’re plotting against him as well?”

  There was definite fear in her eyes now.

  “After all,” I went on, “after Vernon, after Ivan, what’s another murder on top of it all?”

  “You can’t prove anything!” she yelled in my face.

  And then she ran.

  Why did they always run? I hated running, and on a full stomach too.

  Nevertheless, I took off after her, her head start giving her enough time to have gotten a decent lead.

  The stampede on the wooden docks rang out as she pushed staffers carelessly. I looked back and saw that Ethan was right behind me, ready to be the action hero and save me as needed.

  Even chasing down a murderer, I had to swoon a bit at how manly he was.

  Out onto the pool area, she was about to stumble into the water, and instead took a right and ran into Cece, who was as surprised to see her as she was.

  Seeing that I was about to catch up, she threw up her skirt, drew a long knife out of a sheath strapped to her leg, and then grabbed Cece, turning her around and holding her in a headlock.

  Cece seemed more confused by this than anything, even as the gleam of the knife’s metal hit her eye.

  “Whoa there!” I said, waving my hands in a stopping motion, Ethan and me coming to a sudden stop. “Let’s not get violent. Or anymore violent. Put the knife down.”

  “You say that like I’m actually going to do it.”

  “I believe in trying to be nice first. Do I need to say please? Put the knife down, please.”

  Cece started to realize what was happening, and then, of all things, she yawned. In an exaggerated and cartoonish way. It confused Monica, but she didn’t break her focus of gesturing with the knife and making it very clear what she’d try to do if I got too rowdy.

  “I’m not going to put the knife down, you idiot.”

  I took a calming breath. “Look, this isn’t going to end well for you. Stabbing my friend isn’t going to let you get away with this. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “No, no, it won’t. But it keeps you away and listening to me, and that’s enough. We’re going to make a deal. What you’re going to do is go to those cameras, take their memory cards, and chuck them into the ocean, or an incinerator, or whatever. Just make them gone.”

  I crossed my arms. “Asking me that is just as futile as me asking you to put down the knife. And you didn’t even say please.”

  “Oh, no, it’s different. Because I have leverage. And I don’t mean this disrespectful girl I’m holding right now.”

  “What do you have then?”

  “Money. Endless amounts of money. Absurd amounts of money.”

  I said nothing as she continued to rant.

  “You’re going to work with me, Adrienne. You’re going to sign on with me. Destroy those cards, and I’ll make you a millionaire. All I ask is for the destruction of those camera memory cards, and for you and your boyfriend to drop this investigation.”

  This girl was trying to buy me off. For millions. Cornstalks, what I could do with millions.

  “We’ll work it out. We’ll say poor Vernon and Ivan very elaborately committed suicide. You know how these tech people are. Can’t do anything normally.”

  “How about you take your money, or potential money, or whatever it is,” Ethan said, stepping in front of me, “and shove it? We’re not for sale.”

  “One hundred million dollars. One. Nine Zeroes.”

  I couldn’t help but look at her with my eyes wide. That was an absurd amount of money.

  I took a deep breath. “Double that. Triple that. Give us ten times that, and the answer would still be the same. No. You’re coming with me, Monica. Make this easier for yourself.”

  “Ms. Blake?” a deep voice called out.

  Monica and Cece turned around to see who it was. It was Brock, carrying a tray with two cocktails on top of it.

  “You! Whoever you are! Put your hands up!!”

  “Okay, I’m sorry, just don’t hurt Ms. Blake!” Brock threw his hands up… and threw the tray he was carrying as well, accidentally flinging it toward Monica, the beverages splashing right into Monica’s face.

  “The—” Monica stumbled and screamed several profane words. Cece knocked the knife away, and I rushed in to tackle our murderess.

  I stopped just soon enough to send her careening into the pool below, face first.

  She had taken to flailing in the water, still blinded by the drinks.

  “Man, this stinks. I was looking forward to those cocktails.” Cece’s attention was more focused on the mess of glass and ice on the ground in front of her. “Brock, go get me new cocktails. Now.”

  I glared at her with surprise. “A nutcase pulls a knife on you, your intern saves you, however inadvertently, and your words of gratitude to him are to get you more cocktails?”

  “You don’t understand, Addy. I really wanted those cocktails.

  I stood there, trying to come up with some sort of witty comeback but could only stare in disbelief. “Just… help us make sure Ethan catches her when she gets out of the pool.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  We took Monica to where we take all the murderers that keep boarding our ship. Ethan’s office right next to the brig.

  She dripped water the whole way down and was now chattering in the corner, handcuffed and miserable. The fire of hate in her eyes was not enough to keep her warm.

  The office door opened again, and this time Sebastian was brought in. He was slightly less hostile.

  Slightly.

  “Loosen these cuffs. I’d like to be able to feel my hands after we’re done with this nonsense.”

  The security guard grunted and shoved him toward a chair as he sat down near Monica.

  “What in the world did you do to cause all this?!”

  “Nothing! I’m innocent. This is… is, uh… racial profiling.”

  Sebastian glared at Monica, not even dignifying her words with a response.

  The security guard also dropped a bag on Ethan’s desk. “This is the bag the suspect requested.”

  Monica’s eyes lit up when she saw it. “There we go! Open it up! Open it! Now! And then let me go!”

  Ethan grunted. “You do know even if you’re cleared of everything else, you’re still in trouble for pulling a knife on Cece, right?”

  “She didn’t seem too bothered by it. I bet she won’t even press charges.”

  Cece wouldn’t, but it was more out of laziness than any desire for leniency on Monica.

  The security guard stood back, ready to act if something went awry. Monica and Sebastian were both cuffed, but that wouldn’t stop them from trying to kick us in anger, or, well, trying to run.

  It was not my official position to be chasing down murderers, but I had to keep doing it anyway.

  “Let’s see what’s in here that’s so important then,” Ethan said, unzipping the bag and shaking its contents out onto the table.

  Receipts. Lots of them.

  Ethan wasted no time in reviewing what was on them. “Uh… let’s see. A chartered yacht rental from a nearby marina. A wetsuit from a scuba store. Aaaand… zip ties from a hardware place? What do these mean?”

  Monica laughed. “You may have the video that shows me going into Vernon’s room…”

  Ethan’s eyebrow shot up. I hadn’t exactly filled him in about my bluff.

  “But I was only checking that the deed was done. I didn’t kill Vernon. I was wondering if this guy right here had the guts to actually do what he said he was going to do.” She gestured, as much as she could while handcuffed, toward Sebastian. “He’s your man. He’s the one who killed Vernon.”

  “Excuse me?” Sebastian shouted. “I wasn’t even on
the ship when he died!”

  “That’s what you’d like them to think, wouldn’t you? I found those receipts, Sebastian. Always have to look for a tax break, don’t you? You chartered a yacht out to catch up with the Swan. You toss on the wetsuit, you swim up to the ship, climb into Vernon’s room, and then kill him with a common thing like zip ties to be sure it would be pinned on someone else!”

  Sebastian stared at her, trying to come up with coherent words to counter the perceived madness. It took a bit, but he finally came through with a few. “You’ve lost your mind, woman.”

  “Then, you dive back out, go back to your yacht, and turn it all back in, ready to write this off as a business expense.”

  Of all the things she said, the last part was fishy. It took a certain kind of madness to be so frugal that you would try to write off the supplies you used for a murder.

  Then again, inexplicable greed was very common amongst the brass at LightningBlossom.

  Ethan was ever the one to stay focused on the task at hand. “Well, Mr. Hawk, what do you have to say in your defense?”

  “What do I have to say? That is completely mad. Do I look like James Bond to you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Because I’m not. I’m not a super spy with some crazy plan to climb onto cruise ships and execute my boss, and to dive back out in the dead of night. I’m a businessman who is in decent shape, but nowhere near the shape I’d need to be in to do what Monica proposed. As soon as I hit the water, I’d be caught up in the ship’s wake and be a dead man.”

  Ethan looked at me. He was a tad frustrated with everything going on. “What do you think, Addy?”

  I threw up my hands. “I don’t know. He looks in shape enough to do it, but at the same time, it’s, umm… a crazy idea?”

  “Well, if that’s not enough for you,” Sebastian continued, “I have an alibi, since not being anywhere near the ship is suddenly not enough.”

  “To heck if you do! You killed Vernon!” Monica yelled, ready to start shoulder tackling Sebastian since their arms were still bound.

  “I do. More of an alibi than you can handle if you want to bring receipts into this. Or my credit card statement, I suppose.”

  “How? The evidence is right there! He killed Vernon! Let me go!”

  “Sorry to tell you this way, Monica, but I’ve been seeing Lisa all this time.”

  Monica’s eyes went wide. “Lisa? What? How could you? You pig!”

  “I’m sorry, but your little sister inherited all the looks in your family, I’m afraid. But anyway, I spent the entire night out on the town with her. Restaurants, bars, clubs, you name it. Take your pick of the evidence. Many of the bouncers and waiters see me there regularly and could tell you when I was there. Or, as I said, my credit card statement.”

  “You pig! You dog! You pigdog!” She was thrashing back and forth, causing enough chaos that the security guard had to step in and try to restrain her.

  “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Monica. I would have preferred to break it to you in a more dignified manner, but I suppose you brought this revelation onto yourself. Attempting to frame me for murder. How crass.” Sebastian seemed pleased with himself explaining all of this.

  Ethan and I exchanged another glance and shrugged. That story seemed more legitimate than Sebastian Hawk, super spy.

  “Now, if you’ll pardon me,” he said, “I’ll explain what I strongly suspect is going on now since the killer has been made so… obvious.”

  Ethan gestured for him to continue.

  “Monica here? She’s always wanted prestige and power. She’s been willing to do anything and everything to get it too. I like a woman with some fire, so we did have a thing for a bit.”

  “Everything he says is lies!”

  “Let him talk,” I said, my arms crossed, ready to be done with his madness.

  “Through her, I met her sister. Her sister? Much hotter, much less crazy. So I upgraded, but I didn’t want to cause a rift in the office just yet.”

  More thrashing from Monica. The security guard struggled to keep her from falling over. “He’s a cheater! You’re listening to a cheater! What’s wrong with you people? I’m the wronged woman here.”

  I shook my head. “As much as I hate standing up for a cheater, it’s a far less severe crime than murder.”

  “Ah, it’s not a crime at all. Free country. Wonderful, isn’t it?” Sebastian smiled. What a sleazy man. “Truly, though, I plotted nothing against Vernon. We were in no financial danger and the IPO release would come soon enough. Yet this woman didn’t agree. This woman wanted more. She kills him, gets me promoted. What was next, Monica? Were you going to kill me once you were in the right spot to succeed me?”

  “I’ll kill you right now, you dogpig!”

  I grimaced at her words. “You’re really not helping your case.”

  “All of this was for naught anyway, so you know,” Sebastian said. “I was going to have to give Monica here severance soon enough, given my involvement with her sister. If Vernon were still in control, I’d make my case to him. But it turns out firing her is a whole lot easier now. For that, I guess I have to thank you, Monica.”

  “Pigdogpig!” she screeched, headbutting the security guard. She wiggled toward him, but Ethan intercepted to stop her from inflicting further harm.

  “If she’s going to be violent, throw her in the brig to cool off. We’ll figure out what to do with her later.”

  Ethan helped the now bleeding guard with the crazed Monica.

  Sebastian looked at me with his cocky smile. “May I have my hands back?”

  I grunted, and Ethan passed me the key.

  Despite it all? It didn’t feel like a solid dose of justice. They were all greedy people. The man I was uncuffing was unfaithful. Another went out of her way to hate Monica for anything she did, which felt cruel even if Monica did end up being the killer.

  “My thanks,” he said, departing Ethan’s office, leaving me to sulk alone with my thoughts.

  No matter how ludicrously wealthy they were, no matter how rich they would become in the future; none of them would be able to buy manners, or a soul, or basic human decency.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  T he Rusty Anchor was one of the most common restaurant recommendations to go to by the people on the ship who actually had experience with New Orleans and what the city had to offer.

  Awesome seafood, as you’d expect, but they had a few secrets to pull out beyond that.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Sam said after slurping a big glass of soda. “Monica was trying to murder her way up the chain of command?”

  We were chatting after a big lunch that we all shared. I had one of those less than standard items they had—spicy shrimp quesadillas. It was good, really good. The worst part about it was it wasn’t infinite now our lunch was nearing its end. “More or less. I think Vernon and maybe Sebastian were the only targets she was really after though.”

  “Then why did she kill Ivan?”

  “Ivan was talking about how ambitious she was. Maybe she heard he was going to tell me, or she heard him during the volleyball game. Whatever it was, he was in the way of a crazed woman’s lust for power.” I took another slurp of my soda. “And, he’d started to put things together. Monica was the one who got Ivan to tell Vernon to turn off the cameras, and he probably figured she was behind the murder too. It was only a matter of time before he told everyone.”

  Sam sighed. “I just wished we were done with this nonsense on our cruises.”

  Cece leaned on her hand deep in thought. “My theory is the ship is built from materials mined near an ancient Native American burial ground.”

  “But we didn’t have murderers before I showed up,” I said.

  “Then, you’re bad luck, I suppose.”

  “You’re so supportive, Cece, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Have someone else taken hostage by murderers who chase you?”


  I chuckled. “So, speaking of that. What about your servant—I mean, intern? Brock? Is he going to be sticking around?”

  She took a long sip of her soda. “Not sure. He likes cleaning, but he also likes getting paid and doesn’t think that doing things for me was really part of the job. I hope he stays on, but good things don’t last forever. How about your intern?”

  “Holly? I knew she wasn’t sticking around for a while. She doesn’t need the job, and all of the chaos with Vernon and Ivan turned her off from the whole cruise ship thing. Think she’s going to travel for, clear her head, try to figure out what to do with her life from there.”

  “Yeah, jealous of that freedom, but that’s life. What about your intern, Sam?”

  Sam perked up. “I had an intern?”

  I chuckled. “That sounds about the right response.”

  Cece’s phone chimed, and she checked it immediately. “Well, it’s happening. It’s finally happening.”

  “Oh?” Sam leaned toward her. “What’s happening?”

  “The parents. It’s happening. I’m meeting Ryan’s parents during shore leave. Well, if I show up. I could tell him that I have the plague right now…”

  “Don’t you dare, Cece.” I leered at her. “You’ve been talking this up for a while. You can’t run forever.”

  “But… like, I’m still just a housekeeper. I don’t feel any more worthy of being a doctor’s significant other.”

  “Cece, we have access to the internet again. You said as soon as we had that, you’d sign up for a class and start making this happen.”

  She flashed a smile. “I did. I submitted an application. The wheels are turning, girls. I’m going to be doing distance learning over the next few years and become an information security specialist, or something else with big words.”

  “Why do you have to keep playing with my emotions like this, Cece?” I melodramatically declared, bringing a napkin to my face and fanning myself as if I had ‘the vapors’.

  “Still not sure I want to see his parents yet. Maybe I want to hold off until I’m actually more educated, more along the road to being somebody.”