Deadly Reunion

by June Shaw

  He jotted notes on his pad, maybe not wanting to listen later to everything people said on the recorder. He might be noting comments he thought could be important.

  “And she continued to be cheerful and friendly with everyone all through her life?” he asked.

  I nodded, then stopped. “I’m sure she was. I hadn’t really had a lot of contact with her these last years. But people don’t change much, do they?”

  “You tell me.” His gaze nailed my fingers, which I quit moving once I noticed his stare at them. I wanted to squirm but figured he would consider me guilty of something.

  “She’s been having a major problem,” I said, and then told about why I’d decided to come on the trip. He questioned me more, and I gave details about trying to pry into her difficulties so I could help, to no avail. “But our good friend Jane Easterly, who’s Tetter’s roommate on the trip, tried and didn’t get anything out of her, either.”

  He pushed, asking about my experiences with Tetter during this cruise, and when I’d last seen her. Exhaustion in my brain extended into every tissue of my body by the time he dismissed me from the room.

  “We might call on you again with other questions,” he warned.

  Out in the corridor, I peered toward the library, where Gil and Jane and those others still waited. I couldn’t get in there if I wanted to, I figured, seeing the crowd still gathered around that door an officer guarded. Voices mumbled from the group. A woman noticed me leaving the conference room and pointed. People raised excited voices.

  I stamped away in the opposite direction. I’d prefer to shove through that crowd and reach Gil. I’d rest my head against his shoulder and feel his reassuring hand massage my back. He’d know what I needed.

  What I did not need was more questions from all the people waiting for answers and snapping pictures of me, and I didn’t need reprimanding from the guard at the door. I limped away from all of them, my ankle aching. I needed to know what happened to Tetter. My gosh, I’d come aboard this ship to help her.

  Needing to leave this deck, I stepped into an elevator’s open door.

  “Good morning. You’re going down. What deck?” a buff man inside asked.

  The question made my shoulders tense, my brain numb. Where was I heading? I needed to go somewhere. My stateroom? No, too depressing to stay alone now.

  “Uh, that one,” I said, pointing one button down from the lit one.

  “You’ve seen enough beautiful mountains and ice this morning?” he asked, and I nodded, wishing I could stop envisioning the woman draped over an iceberg.

  “I’m picking up someone and then going up higher. You have a good one,” he said, holding the door open so I could get out first.

  I nodded and aimlessly walked, hoping useful ideas would take hold. On the wall beyond the restrooms, signs pointed to room numbers fore and aft. I walked the opposite way, where art lined the walls. The pieces lost their appeal and now all looked gaudy.

  Reaching the base of the Grand Atrium, I was satisfied to find few people. The atrium’s wide-open expanse felt less confining than my room would. I went for a heavily cushioned sofa, needing all of the comfort I could find.

  Sue strutted from a hall of staterooms looking sharp in dressy casuals.

  “Sue,” I called.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Do you know what happened?” I dreaded telling her.

  “To Tetter?”

  “Yes. You heard?” I felt my eyes squeeze together and forehead tighten. An ache started in my right temple and wrapped itself around my scalp, squeezing as quickly as a python might snag victims. We were talking about our precious lifelong friend.

  “I saw her down there.” Sue’s mouth pinched into a frown. “What a pity.”

  “It’s awful.” I grabbed her in a hug.

  She patted my back and stepped away.

  “Did you go upstairs and tell the security team what you know?” I asked.

  “What do you mean, what I know? I don’t know anything.” Her stance stiffened.

  “I don’t mean you’d know anything about her fall. I mean what you know about her as a person. If you haven’t yet, you should go to the library and tell them you know her. They’ll ask questions, and you can tell them about our friendship and meeting her on the ship. Or anything else you might know about her, like when you last saw her.”

  Sue jerked her head back. “What are you insinuating?”

  It took a moment for what she meant to sink in.

  “Darn, Sue, you’re my aunt. I’m not suggesting a thing. I just think you ought to talk to the security team if you haven’t already done so. I did.”

  Tension in her face relaxed. “Oh, you spoke to them? Then I don’t need to. I don’t know anything more than you do. She died. That’s it.”

  “Died?” My pulse stopped. Breaths trapped in my throat.

  “You don’t think she died from that fall?”

  “Oh, nobody told you she was dead?” I breathed again after Sue shook her head. “Until I hear anything official, I can hold on to hope that she made it.”

  “Whatever makes you happy.” She glanced at the few people in our area. “I’m going outside to see the sights. Want to come?”

  “Not now.” I watched her flounce off toward the door to the outer deck. Drawn to the paisley printed sofa, I plopped, instantly satisfied on its soft cushioning. What did not make me satisfied was Sue’s belief that Tetter was dead. I chose to believe otherwise. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the glittery lights and marble staircase and moving people and classical music, and I called up prayers for my friend.

  “Are you Buddha?” a man asked.

  I snapped my eyelids apart. “Randy.”

  “You looked mighty funny with your eyes closed and hands together in your lap like you were praying.”

  “I was.”

  “Good. I guess I should still do that. Hey, you want to do lunch?”

  “Lunch?” I asked, surprised that it might be time to eat.

  “Or dinner, whatever you call it.” He glanced around the atrium. “I haven’t seen anybody else in our group yet.”

  Surely he meant Tetter. And he hadn’t heard.

  I patted the section of sofa beside me. “Sit down a minute.”

  He sat, and I took a breath. “This morning—”

  Loud voices and commotion from cameramen and women lugging huge cameras and other bulky equipment in from outside snagged our attention. Members of the ship’s staff escorted them. One man wearing a GNZ News jacket trained his camera on the opulent atrium. He moved his focus along the glass elevator carrying passengers and aimed up at the massive chandelier. Their story of the passenger who fell from this ship might start by showing much of its beauty. And then they would move to the awful part about Tetter down on the ice.

  “I wonder what that’s all about,” Randy said.

  I snapped my head toward him, unable to believe he didn’t know, and gripped his cool hand. “You didn’t hear that someone from our ship fell overboard?”

  “You’re kidding.” His eyes narrowed in a look of disbelief. “When?”

  “This morning. Or—I don’t know. Yes, it must have happened early this morning since our ship was still near her.”

  “Her? A female?” He leaned back, drawing his hand away from mine.

  How could I tell him, especially since he seemed to care so much about Tetter? Maybe he was in love with her.

  She’s okay. She’ll be all right, I repeated to myself. I swallowed. Sucked in a deep breath. Considered how to tell him it was Tetter.

  The cameraman swooped his lens down from the ceiling and trained it on us.

  I swung my face away. For long minutes, I kept my head turned, a strong pulse beating alongside my scalp.

  By the time I determined the camera had moved away from us, I had formulated questions. I peeked and saw the film crew moving on.

  “Randy, you really never heard anything about a person
falling?”

  “I knew that guy fell in the stairwell not long after we left. I think he died.”

  “He did.” I envisioned his hot-pink shirt as he lay crumbled on the bottom of the stairwell. “His name was Jonathan Mill.” I said a quick prayer for Jonathan.

  “You knew him?” Randy asked.

  “We met.”

  The Executive Chef swept into the atrium, the tall hat announcing his presence. He aimed toward the area where the news people had gone.

  Should I speak to him now? Courtesy said I should. And maybe I could learn more about Tetter.

  “Mr. Sandkeep,” I called, making him pause. “Thank you. I really appreciate the gift.” I forced a smile but couldn’t muster a real one.

  He stared at me and glanced at Randy beside me. The chef’s brows knotted. Before I could take steps toward him, he gave me a brief nod and moved on.

  Randy peered in my face. “Oh, well, I guess you’re not telling what that’s all about.” He shoved up to his feet. “I didn’t have breakfast, and I’m starving. You want to come up and eat?”

  “Not now.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  He ambled away. I might rush after him and tell him it was Tetter who fell. But something kept me in place.

  He would know soon enough. And maybe it was best if he didn’t discover the truth yet. Her husband needed to know what happened to her. And Randy probably needed to know as much as any other person from our class.

  Besides, I wasn’t yet certain of her fate.

  The door that the camera crew entered opened again. Men and women wearing jackets sporting large letters of a popular national news station carried in more equipment. One man had his camera rolling as he stepped inside. He’d most likely started by taking exterior pictures and then some inside. And then he and the others would go above, probably getting pictures of all of the passengers waiting around the library.

  An ache jabbed in my chest. It squeezed my lungs and pushed heat up to my eyes. Tears struck cheeks. Hot, angry tears. My friend Tetter had a major problem and I’d come aboard to help her solve it, but now she was…

  “Cealie.” Gil stepped toward me, arms open wide.

  I ran and welcomed them around me.

  He held me tight, his breath brushing against my hair as he whispered, “You know she’s dead.”

  Chapter 19

  I let my tears heat Gil’s chest and trembled inside the strength of his arms.

  He gripped me as if I might slip from his arms. I needed him to hold my quivering body in place. Silently, I let tears flow, knowing I was safe.

  “There’s a TV camera,” he said, shifting me to his side and gripping me there. He leaned his face down against my head, possibly to hide it from being filmed.

  I noted the sound of heavy footsteps and wheeled luggage. More newscasters.

  “Let’s get out of here. This way.” Gil turned me toward the nearest door to go outside. Neither of us glanced at the TV crew on the opposite side of the atrium. We pushed onto the cold outer deck. I gazed at mountains, refusing to look at icebergs.

  “That’s on the starboard side near the land,” the naturalist announced, “where you can see the pod of whales.”

  I lowered my eyes from the mountaintop to the water in front of them. Tails that looked miniscule flipped atop the water. Small waterspouts could have been fountains turned on beneath the ocean’s surface.

  “This is good,” I said. “Whales. Living things in the water instead of death.”

  Gil stood behind me, arm wrapped around me keeping me snug against his chest. “Most things in the water live.” A quiet moment ensued. “Some don’t.”

  A young couple walked near, smiled, and moved on. Farther down the deck, a few passengers peered toward the whales, the smarter ones using binoculars. Many voices were excited. Maybe a whale leapt from the water.

  “What could have happened to her?” I asked.

  Gil took breaths before he answered. “What do you think?”

  “She fell. She had been drinking a lot and leaned against the rail…or over the rail…and then the ship swayed, maybe hit a huge wave. Nobody saw her and she dropped overboard.” My words flew. “She used to be a good swimmer. But she landed on that hard iceberg, and it knocked her out. She lay on that frigid ice too long…” My mental images slowed. I did not want to think of how cold and frightened she must have been. I turned toward Gil, snuggling my chilly face against him.

  I could not see his face as he spoke. “I don’t think she suffered.”

  Nodding, I wanted to believe those words.

  “Cealie, I don’t believe she fell.”

  I held my breath, staring at pale blue threads in Gil’s V-neck sweater.

  He rubbed my upper back. “Somebody shoved her overboard.”

  I pushed back and lifted my head to look at him.

  Voices sounded as people stepped outside to the deck.

  Gil pulled my face in against his chest. “More cameramen,” he said, face close to my head. “As soon as they’re through filming out here, we’ll go inside.”

  “Gil,” I said, gripping him, “who would do such a thing?”

  His breath felt extra warm trapped near his chest. “I don’t know. Who do you think would do it?”

  “Me?” I worked my head back from his grip and peered up at him. “Why would I have any idea of who might…” I couldn’t even think the rest, much less say the words.

  A flash of light snagged my attention. A man wearing heavy dark gear was filming us. I didn’t care anymore, at least if he didn’t get our words.

  I pinned my attention back on Gil. “How could I know that? My God, everybody loved that girl. She was so bubbly and sweet.” Of course, Tetter’s personality on this trip had been the antithesis of the girl I’d known in high school. “She changed,” I admitted.

  “Don’t we all?” He turned toward the door, and we returned inside.

  The warmer air and lack of icy scenes helped me relax. Until I spied more men and women with official gear of their news stations.

  “Let’s go to my cabin.” Gil held my hand, and we hurried to the interior bank of elevators, not the glass ones the news crews could film. We kept quiet waiting and then when we joined others on the ride. Passengers chattered about reporters and people who’d fallen during this trip.

  “And I’m sure she was dead,” a slim woman in a sweat suit said.

  “Maybe not,” a woman behind me chimed in.

  “Oh, I think so. Did you see? It looked like blood on her head,” a man said.

  I tightened my grip on Gil’s, fighting to withhold sobs and not shout at these people.

  “We’re here,” Gil said.

  I walked with my eyes ahead, not glancing aside as I heard the door opening to a cabin we passed. Gil and I remained mute until he unlocked his door.

  “This is lovely,” I said, stepping into the suite that made my stateroom a closet by comparison. A recessed walnut-brown ceiling trimmed with a wide strip of white and thinner strips of darker cherry brought out the numerous recessed lights. I spied a separate sitting room with extra chairs and a love seat and dining area that led to his balcony. The pictures portrayed outdoor scenes, and a tranquil foam-green quilted spread topped his queen-sized bed. This was probably the first time I had ever been in a bedroom with Gil when I knew for sure sex would not take place.

  “Sit down here.” He drew a cushioned chair from his desk. I sat and accepted the ship’s binder he gave me. He snagged a small tab and opened the binder to that page.

  “Room service,” I read and glanced at him.

  “Your stomach’s been howling,” he noted, and I almost grinned. “Let’s get some lunch sent up. I want this.” He pointed to Club Sandwich and Fruit Bowl.

  “Can we share?”

  “Nope, get your own. You need strength for everything that’s happening.”

  He yanked the phone from a desk and placed our order, also asking for two ra
spberry iced teas. He hung up and stepped toward me. “Now can we have sex?”

  Stunned, I chuckled.

  “Ah, good.” He trailed a finger across my cheek. “I knew I could get a smile.”

  “You always can, even in the midst of a tragic situation.” I recalled something I’d wanted to ask. “Why were you in the library when security started questioning people? What did you know about Tetter?”

  “The things you told me. And that I’d met her.”

  I stared into his gray eyes. They remained sincere.

  “I don’t think I told you much about her. And do you think everybody she met or talked to needed to report it to security?”

  “That depends. Babe, I also mentioned the male classmate with all of you.”

  “What did you tell security?” I stood, feeling betrayed. “Did you tell them everything I told you? I could do that myself if I wanted to.”

  He grabbed my hands. “No. I’d looked at every photograph they took on this ship that has you in it,” he said, making me feel flattered. “In most of the ones with all of your classmates, you’re between Randy and Tetter. And he’s glaring at you. In one picture he managed to stand beside Tetter. He’s gazing at her and looks overjoyed.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes. I only told them what I saw.”

  I swallowed, satisfied. “And how did you know she was dead?”

  “Uncle Errol. I texted him and asked of her condition. I knew you’d especially want to know.”

  “Thank you.”

  “He said he’ll tell me more later. Since she’d been kept so cold out there, he worked on her much longer than usual before determining she was gone.”

  “And the morgue?” I said, worrying about it not staying cold enough.

  “Electricians fixed it right away before they started to work on the outside camera system that also developed problems. Uncle Errol was also going to have to inform the Coast Guard and nearest quarantine station.”

  “Oh, maybe she was ill.”

  “I don’t think so. They also needed to notify the sheriff’s office in the ship’s home port, and when the ship docks, an autopsy will be performed.”

  I shoved my palm against his lips, making him stop. I could not think of anyone cutting Tetter open. Queasiness snaked around in my stomach.