by June Shaw
“But I didn’t. I’m fine.” She headed for her stateroom.
“How did you find out about Jonathan?”
“I asked the nurse.”
“And she told you?”
Sue spun and faced me. “She put ice on my face and stopped the bleeding while the doctor was finishing with another patient. I told her I knew the other patient well and knew he was badly hurt. I convinced her to tell me.”
“What did she say?”
“That Dr. Thurman would be right with me. He was working with my friend in the morgue.”
“I am so sorry. Do you know what happened to him?”
She shook her head. “I’m going to rest in my cabin. I’ll meet you and the others for breakfast.” She pushed her sailing card into the slot of her door.
“Let me know if you need anything,” I said, but her door’s slam told me she didn’t hear all of my words or care to answer.
I walked down the hall to my room but didn’t feel like going inside. I didn’t know the time since I’d stopped wearing a watch after I decided to take care of me instead of always working. I wasn’t sleepy.
Outside my cabin door I found the ship’s daily newsletter and scanned it. A welcome from the captain and crew, and a list of many events available on the ship during our sailing day tomorrow. Tonight, of course, the casino opened. Were my classmates still in it? Winning or handing over their cash? The spa supposedly opened a half hour ago, not when Sue told us she went earlier. Other activities taking place tonight were a margarita party, music, and dancing on various decks, some in bars. Temporary tattoos would be offered on the Lido Deck, along with a combo playing Calypso music. The pools were open, some enclosed and heated.
To perk up some of our group, maybe I could suggest that we get tattoos one day. What a dreadful thought on this sad day. My aunt injured. A man we met died.
I glanced toward Sue’s door. The hall was empty. I needed to go and find my other classmates to renew friendships more and see what I could discover.
Heading back down and into the smoky casino, I wound my way around flashing slot machines that whirred and called to players and card games at tables. No sign of my friends and no idea where I’d find them.
I passed a last small alcove. It held only two slot machines. A lean white-headed man sat in front of one but reached over and slipped a bill into the machine next to his. His profile seemed familiar. But it couldn’t be. I stepped closer.
“Randy?”
“Cealie.” He smiled, stood, and hugged me.
“How nice to see you. And what a surprise.”
We looked each other over. He was about five foot ten, trim, with sparkly brown eyes and a strong chin. Our class had voted him one of the most handsome. He still looked good. I glanced at his left hand. No wedding ring, although a band of skin lighter than his tan crossed his ring finger.
“You haven’t changed at all,” he said.
“Oh, right.” I let out a laugh and shook my head but wanted to believe his words. “You look great. Only your hair color is different. It didn’t stay the same, like mine did,” I added with a wink, figuring he realized a hairdresser made my hair its current color.
“Do you want to sit here?” He indicated the stool beside his.
“No thanks. I’m not much on gambling. Oh, you’ll never guess who else is on this ship.” I didn’t wait for a guess. “Jane Easterly and Tetter and Sue Ingstrom.”
“Sue? I knew Stu Ingstrom in our class.”
Should I tell him Stu had become Sue?
No, I didn’t need to give away anyone’s personal information.
“I knew about the others. Jane invited me,” he said.
“She did?” Jane had told me our old gang was coming. I took it for granted that meant only females.
He glanced toward the tables. “She and Tetter were in here awhile ago. We’re going to try to meet up for the Welcome Aboard Show in the amphitheatre.” He checked his watch. “It’s starting about now. Do you want to go?”
“Sure.”
He made a couple more pulls on the machine in front of him, losing the rest of his money. We headed for the theater. The crowd had thinned. Others walked in our direction toward the bow of the ship.
“Condense your life since high school,” I said with a grin.
“I live in Dallas and have a great wife and two grown kids and three grandkids, and wish I could see them all more often.”
“I know what you mean. It’s tough to let them go.”
He nodded. “I supervise an oil field crew, and I’m taking a much-needed vacation.” Before I could ask if his wife wouldn’t also like this vacation, he added, “I heard that Freddie died. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” I sucked in a breath, not wanting to sink into missing my husband. “He and I started a copyediting agency. I still have it.” I didn’t say I kept offices throughout the country with great managers running them. A brief concern flashed. I wondered if there were any problems with my offices.
No, I wouldn’t call any of them to ask if they needed me. All of the managers knew how to contact this ship if they required my assistance.
“What do you do for fun?” I asked Randy.
“Work. That’s all I ever do.”
“That’s not good for you.”
“I know. How about you?”
“Travel. I’ve even learned not to mind doing it alone.”
We entered the theater with a gaggle of people stepping into the chilled, cavernous, dark room. Most seats were taken. The show had already begun. The cruise director, a husky smiling man in a suit and top hat, completed a joke. The audience roared. My knees shook.
“Do you see them?” Randy asked.
What I saw paralyzed my vocal cords. We had entered on the upper level.
I dreaded balconies ever since I was seven and my twelve-year-old cousin held me over a movie theater’s rail, pretending he would toss me down. A recent near-deadly encounter on a balcony accentuated my apprehension.
This upper level held dozens of rows forming a tremendous semicircle. Many rows were visible on the bottom floor, along with circular cushioned seating areas. I perused faces. There were too many. Staring below, I shivered. This evening I had witnessed a dead man’s body down from a fall. Had that fall caused his death? Sue seemed intensely interested in that man, whom she and I met briefly on the Lido Deck.
“I can’t find them,” Randy said.
I managed to shove words past my teeth. “Did you know a man died on board this afternoon?”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. He was in the stairwell near where we ate. We saw him.”
“That’s terrible. Look, there are some places.”
We squeezed past people to reach empty seats. Working to stave off apprehension, I took in the glamour of our space. Shiny blue-black fabric draped from the center of the huge ceiling also covered the walls. Swirling ceiling lights changed colors, making the fabric glitter in varying hues. The stage was vast. Showgirls dancing across it could have performed on Broadway.
How many people in this room were aware that a man here died? The people who ate with us this evening knew he fell. So did others who saw him down. I tried for an image of his face but mainly recalled his shirt in the bright shade of pink I loved best as a teen.
I glanced around. So many grownups and children were up here, many leaning toward the stage.
One face stood out: Gil’s. He was laughing, head cocked back like it did when he really chuckled. Automatically, I checked to see who was with him. Only men. Annoyance overtook my pleasure at seeing him.
I leaned toward Randy. He noticed and glanced at me. At least he didn’t pull away.
I was not trying to make Gil jealous. Maybe I wanted to let him know that if he lied to me, I would move on. There were not many good middle-aged men available, but I didn’t want one anyway. I considered my mantra, the slogan I kept trying to believe deep in my heart: I am woman. I can do
anything—alone!
My peripheral vision let me spy Gil staring at me.
I saw a dead man, and something about that is really troubling me. I wanted to telegraph those concerns to my former lover. I need to talk to someone about it. I need you.
No, I don’t! I nodded as I tried to convince myself.
“They are great, aren’t they?” Randy said.
“Terrific.” I glanced at the stage. A dance performance was ending. I leaned slightly closer to him.
“Look. There they are.” He pointed below at Jane and Tetter on a curved sofa.
“I wish we could get their attention,” I said.
“We’ll do better. Come on. We’ll go and sit with them.”
I imagined Gil staring at my back as I left my seat and followed this still handsome man. But I really didn’t want jealousy. And I didn’t want him. I did want Gil to know my relationship with him was over. Lying to me would never work.
Randy rushed down the stairs. I had a difficult time keeping up and wondered if he always hustled so fast. He reached our friends. “We found y’all,” he said.
“Great.” Jane pushed over to give us more space. “Sit down. We can squeeze in.”
Tetter shifted closer to Jane.
Randy sat beside Tetter and patted the space left on the seat. “Come on, Cealie. You’re little.”
“Only in height,” I said with a grin.
He and Jane smiled at me. Tetter didn’t. Something was truly bothering her. Her restless eyes appeared so tense. Maybe she had more than one situation to solve. I needed to help.
People applauded for someone on stage. A semi-quiet moment ensured.
I took the opportunity to lean toward Jane. “Are any other guys from our class on board?”
“Not that I know of.”
“And you wanted to come,” I said to Randy, “without any other friends to hang out with?”
He frowned and looked offended.
“Other guy friends, I mean—it’s just that women like different things. We like to shop and gossip. And did I mention gossip?” I smirked.
He did, too. “That’s okay. I’m good with just y’all.” Eyes lowered, he appeared to sneak a glance at Tetter.
She faced me. “Where’s Sue?”
“In her room. She ran into the shelf holding her TV and cut her cheek. She’s okay now but wanted to rest.”
“I’m glad she’s okay,” Tetter said.
“But she learned that the man who fell in the stairwell died,” I said.
Tetter’s jaw dropped. “From what?”
“We don’t know. But Sue wanted to rest. We’ll see her at breakfast.”
Jane faced all of us. “Let’s eat in the dining room instead of the buffet. The newsletter says there’s going to be a celebrity chef. I want to check out his food.”
I kept out of kitchens as much as possible now that I lived alone, and I wasn’t especially concerned about chefs. But if Jane was, we’d go meet one. The orchestra music swelled. Silver and pink and gold lights swirled across a lithe dancer pirouetting onstage.
The show was extravagant, yet I found myself peering up toward where Randy and I previously sat. Streams of light in chartreuse, burgundy, and electric blue flowed over the faces above. Gil was no longer in the area.
Maybe I didn’t want to stay around him, but disappointment at not seeing him ruined the rest of the performance for me. As soon as it ended, others in my group agreed that we were ready for bed. None of us wanted to stay around for the late-night performance, a comedy act with adult only material.
“This adult is too tired for all that,” I said, and the others agreed. “I’ll slip a note under Sue’s door to let her know about our plans.”
We parted for our rooms, promising to meet at breakfast.
My stateroom made me smile. The steward had folded back my covers and left two gold foil wrapped squares of chocolate on my pillow.
Since no one else would be sleeping with me, I ate the excellent candy. I then wrote a note about when and where we’d meet for breakfast, brought it to Jane’s room, and listened. No sound came from inside. No sliver of light shone under her door. I slid the paper underneath, returned to my room, changed into my gold knit pj’s with green dragonflies, and set my alarm clock.
Stretching on the comfortable mattress, I considered Randy. He always seemed a nice enough person, although I never knew him well. But having him in the mix felt different. Why would Jane invite only one man? And why would one man come with us?
Of course Stu used to be a guy, but Randy didn’t seem to know he was now Sue. None of us, I figured, had really kept up with each other since our teen years. I’d spoken to some classmates during the first couple of years after we finished school, but then we all went our separate ways for college or jobs and marriage.
A man I met died on this ship.
I wished I could have done something to help him.
What did Sue really know about that man?
Nagging uneasiness told me I was being deceived. People I’d known onboard might be hiding too many secrets. Even Gil was not the man I thought he was.
I worried about Tetter. Calamity could greatly alter a person’s life. I would make a direct effort to help that wonderful woman with hers.
Gloom set in. I drew the covers to my neck, concerned that more than one person on this ship could meet up with an unhappy situation.
An untimely death?
I needed to find answers, to strive to make certain no one I knew was involved in tragedy.
Shutting my eyes, I twisted and rolled over and turned.
Unable to shut the worries out of my mind, I switched on the light over my bed. I grabbed the book I’d put on the nightstand. It would get my thoughts on something besides problems and quickly put me to sleep. Smiling with anticipation, I opened my newest cookbook. Sleep came within minutes.
Chapter 4
I awoke surprised to discover I’d slept better than I had in a long time. The first three recipes I’d read in bed seemed so exhausting to shop for and prepare, they’d quickly sent me into dreamland. The ship’s light rocking had kept me in deep sleep. I showered, dressed in casual attire, shrugged into a light jacket, and opened the door of my stateroom. The scent of coffee and bacon greeted me.
Trays holding leftover breakfast dotted carpet outside a few neighboring doors, urging me to grab someone’s half-eaten biscuit or rush to the elevator. I tapped on Sue’s door first and received no response. Taking an elevator, I rode up and then spied classmates heading for the dining room. “Jane. Tetter,” I called.
They waited for me.
“Good morning,” Tetter said, a trace of a smile touching her lips. How nice to see her in a better mood. Now she should share her problems.
Sue bounded out of an elevator. Her heels were high, her skirt short, her makeup thick, especially on the bruised skin under her eye. “I saw we’re having a celebrity chef today.”
“Oo, that cut. How is your vision?” Jane asked her.
“I was fortunate that I didn’t strike my eye. But it’s okay.”
“Thank goodness,” Tetter said as we headed for the dining room.
“Gil,” I said.
He was in the crowd walking with us. He paused but didn’t kiss me or even try for a hug. “Hello, Cealie.”
“You followed me. You found out where I was going and followed me on this ship! I can’t believe you did that.”
“And we agreed, didn’t we? You would just go on your way, trying to rediscover yourself, and I would try to wait until you were done.”
“Yes. So why… Never mind. You’re hard-headed and determined, and when you want something, you go get it.”
“I believe that’s one of the things you like about me.”
“And I’m trying to imitate. You know yourself and what you want from life.”
“Including you.” He pointed at my chest.
My friends nestled near, listening to every word
of our exchange.
“Yes, including me,” I told Gil. “And that’s the real killer—you agreed to let me go. And then you rushed after me.”
A thought flashed. I did believe there was a killer involved on this ship who had brought about the death of Jonathan Mill. I wanted to share this concern with Gil more than any other person. But I was ticked off at him.
He shook his head, eyes steady on me. “I’m a terrible person. You deserve better.”
Why wasn’t this getting any easier. How could I argue with him if all he did was agree? I took the break in our discussion—our heated discussion, but only on my part, I realized—to glance at my friends.
Jane grinned at me. Tetter eyed me, no expression to give away how she felt. Sue pushed her lower lip out in a pout. Randy joined us. He smiled extra wide.
I turned to Gil. He was walking away. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“To the dining room. I’ll see you later.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Whatever you say.”
Darn it, why did he always make me seem like the bad guy? Was I?
My classmates closed in. “He’s hot,” Jane said.
Randy moved close to me. “Boy, you told him off. Good job.”
“I didn’t want to tell him off. I—” love Gil. I stopped myself from voicing my thoughts. “I’m just furious with him for telling me one thing and doing the opposite. That’s totally wrong.”
“It’s contemptible,” Tetter said.
I nodded and continued toward where we would eat.
“Cealie, you shouldn’t have done that.” Sue’s voice was so loud the crowd around us stopped and faced me.
“Oh, come on, Sue. He’s a great guy. But do you really think it’s okay for him to tell me untruths?”
“You’re lucky to have someone. And now you’re shoving him away.”
“I don’t have him. I do not have Gil.”
“Gil?” a stately, well-dressed woman entering the dining room with us said. “What a nice name. What’s his surname?”
“Thurman.”
“Gil Thurman, mm, a strong name. He’s probably a strong person.” The twinkle in her eye let me know she might be interested in this strong person.
