Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries 02 - Cooks, Crooks and Cruises

by A. R. Winters

  Vince was the first to find his tongue. “Oh no, Meredith would kill me. You can’t go around posting pictures of me with other women.”

  “Oh, she’s just a fan,” I said innocently.

  “I don’t have them with me,” said Olivia interrupting. She didn’t explain why she didn’t have them with her, despite it being a real scorcher of a day.

  “Let me see that book,” said Vince, quickly taking it out of her hands. He had his pen in hand and immediately got to work. “There we go,” he said as he finished signing his name on the inside cover.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much,” said Olivia as she quickly took her book off him. “Bye.”

  She quickly hurried off. Considering she was supposedly such a big fan of Vince, her eagerness to leave was very surprising.

  Unless the fact that I had asked about her sunglasses had something to do with it.

  Interesting, very interesting.

  “I better go too, actually.” While I looked on with confusion plain on my face, Vince pushed back his chair and stood. “Meredith will be wondering where I am. Thank you for the interview. See you later.”

  His coffee only half finished, Vince turned around and hurried out of the Boulevard Café.

  I stopped my recorder, sat back in my chair, and slowly sipped at my coffee.

  I wasn’t sure what to make of Olivia—or of Vince, for that matter. The chef seemed to have at least two personas, and who knew what other secrets? Olivia was very uncomfortable about something, almost certainly my mention of the sunglasses. The idea of Meredith seeing a picture of them together visibly frightened them both, too.

  It had all given me a lot to think about.

  Chapter 13

  I took my time drinking my coffee after the other two had left, setting up a series of social media posts to go out over the next few hours. With my work covered for the next few hours, it was time to carry on with my investigations into the tragic death of Hannah.

  I said goodbye to Minnie who sent me off on my way with a smile on my face and a sense that the world was never as bad as it seemed, even in light of recent events.

  I wanted to get closer to Meredith, to find out a little more about her, and of course to judge her. Did I think she was really capable of murder? Or was Beverly completely wrong, and Vince’s claim that she would kill him if he saw a picture of her with Olivia was just a turn of phrase?

  I found Meredith at Hemingway’s, next to the Lagoon Pool. It was made entirely of what seemed to be bamboo, giving it a ramshackle tropical vibe, and had half a dozen tables along the patio area, as well as several stools at the bar.

  Meredith was sitting up at the bar, with a brightly colored drink in front of her. She was wearing a bright yellow sundress that clung to her figure and contrasted quite stunningly with her straight jet black hair. There was only one other customer at the bar, an older man sitting next to her who had on a large hat and dark sunglasses, despite the fact that they were well shaded by a large bamboo leaf canopy that hung all the way out from the bar to the tables.

  “Hi, Meredith. Can I join you for a few minutes?”

  She turned sharply to look at me, and then smiled when she saw that the female voice she’d heard was mine. “Adrienne! Please do. How did your interview go?”

  I slid onto the unoccupied stool beside her and was surprised by how comfortable the bamboo seating was. The whole bar was comfortable, in fact. Its laidback atmosphere, the cheerful, young bar staff with leis around their neck, and the scent of coconut, banana, mangoes and other tropical scents filling the air.

  “Very good, very good. I was thinking—it would be really interesting if we could do an article about you and Vince as a couple.”

  Meredith was shaking her head already. “That’s not a good idea, is it?”

  I gave her a questioning look. Before she responded, a young bartender with a shirt unbuttoned to show off his tanned lower chest and colorful flowers around his neck approached. I held up a hand to indicate I wouldn’t be needing anything, and he gave a simple thumbs-up in response, heading down to the other end of the bar.

  When the bartender had departed, I turned back to Meredith to find out why she didn’t want me to write about her and Vince as a couple.

  “I’m worried about mixing our brands. He’s the successful celebrity chef, and I’m the successful food critic. I like to keep those brands separate. Don’t you think that’s wise?”

  I was stumped for a moment, but then I thought of something. “Yes, in the big picture, that’s probably a very good idea. You’re right, Meredith.” Flattery went a long way with people like Meredith, so I gave a few thoughtful and serious nods as I spoke, as if impressed by her wisdom.

  I wasn’t actually interested in promoting their brands just yet. I was trying to get to the bottom of what happened to Hannah, and whether Meredith was involved. Best to know up front about the potential murderer-ness of my potential new boss. “But I was thinking, just for the ship’s social media streams, it might be interesting for the guests. After all, they see you two together all the time.”

  Meredith gave a thoughtful hmm.

  “Some of the guests have been asking me about you,” I lied. “I’m thinking just a nice little fluff piece about the pair of you. Of course, out in the real world after the cruise, we’ll work hard to maintain your separate brands.”

  “Okay then. You’re a clever girl, Adrienne. We’ll try this your way.”

  I smiled at her and put my phone onto the bar top, hitting the record button as I did so.

  “So tell me, how did you and Vince first meet.”

  A lot of couples, when they talk about how they first met, get quite excited, and are delighted to share about one of the happiest moments of their lives. Meredith, however, seemed rather bored by the topic.

  “I met Vince a few years ago, when he was just starting out. He was basically a nobody. But I could see something in him. I knew that with the right prodding and guidance, he could be a star. A superstar. The biggest cook in the world.”

  She certainly was ambitious.

  “So what kind of prodding did you have to do? What guidance did you give to young Vince?”

  Meredith chuckled. “He was too soft. They used to say he had a heart of gold, and I knew we had to turn that into a heart of granite. If you want to make it in this world, you have to be tough, you know?”

  “Oh yes,” I wasn’t actually sure that this was true, but I’d learned in journalism school that agreeing with someone was a good way to get them to keep talking. When you disagreed with them, they would get distracted, or even try and argue with you. “You gotta be tough to make it!” I enthused.

  “So I came in like a wrecking ball. I got rid of the hangers-on, the no-hopers, all that worthless weight dragging him down. I taught him how to perform for the camera, how to make an audience love you. I toughened him up, and trained him.”

  “Wow, that must’ve been difficult.”

  This wasn’t exactly a romantic story. When I did finally write my piece for the ship’s blog, I’d have to tone down the toughness a bit and make it a bit sweeter. Throw in some love at first sight and magnetic attraction and the like.

  “Oh, it was tough. Especially in those early days before he realized that listening to me was what he really needed to do. I mean, there was a time when we couldn’t agree on anything, but I knew I was right. So I told him: do as I say, or I’ll destroy you.”

  My jaw fell toward the floor of its own accord. “Sorry, what?”

  “I mean, that his career would be destroyed, that he wouldn’t get anywhere if he didn’t listen to me.”

  I nodded. I had just gotten some real honesty out of her.

  “Well, Vince is very successful now, so you must be a fantastic manager.”

  Meredith smiled back, enjoying the compliment. “Oh, yes, we’re doing very well. And hopefully you’ll be joining us soon too!”

  I nodded enthusiastically, though I wa
s becoming less and less convinced that working for her and Vince would be a good idea. Still, I had a few more days before this cruise was over and I would have to make a decision.

  “With Vince being such a big star, I bet he has a lot of female admirers. Do you ever find that challenging, as a team?”

  Meredith laughed. “No. Sure, there are a few who want to get their claws into him, but they’ve never met a woman as tough as me. I know how to send those fangirls packing. And Vince knows it, so he’s never even tempted.”

  “Your toughness could serve as a great model for a lot of young women out there, showing them that they can conquer the world if they put their mind to it.” It wasn’t a question, but it was the kind of statement a lot of interviewees like to respond to.

  “That’s right. As long as those young women stay away from my husband,” she said laughing quite raucously at her little joke. I tittered too, just enough to be polite.

  “This has been very interesting, Meredith. Thank you very much. I’ll write a nice little piece about you two, and I’ll let you have a look-see before I post it. I think you’ll be pleased.”

  Meredith thanked me for all my hard work, and I slid off the barstool to leave.

  While I didn’t learn much new about Meredith, I had gained a bit of insight into her character. There’s tough—and there’s crazy. I was worried that Meredith may have crossed the threshold from the former to the latter.

  As I began to leave the bar, I saw that the man with the big hat and sunglasses had left, but sitting on his stool was a postcard.

  A shiver ran down my back. It couldn’t be, could it? Tentatively, I reached out and picked it up and turned it over. It wasn’t from Phoenix, and there was no note on the back.

  “Excuse me, Meredith?” She turned around and raised her eyebrows at me.

  “I don’t suppose this is yours, is it?”

  Meredith shook her head. “Nope, there was a man sitting there earlier. Maybe he left it there.”

  “Okay, see you.”

  I took the postcard with me. On the front was a picture of an island with a single palm tree, and it wasn’t any place I’d ever been. But it was a postcard, and it had been left right where I was sitting. Was it connected to the other one? Or the note I’d received on my last cruise?

  I walked away with a lot on my mind. My stalker seemed to be getting more brazen, if this postcard was from him—or her—and Meredith seemed like she could genuinely be dangerous. She had threatened to destroy her own husband? That did not sound like the actions of a sane woman.

  Feeling like I had a new weight on my shoulders, I decided to head back to my room and change.

  I was done with work for the day. I was about ready for some me time.

  Chapter 14

  O n my way back to the room, I met someone I hadn’t seen yet this trip. A chef by the name of Greg Washington, who was an old hand on the cruise ships.

  I had a small run-in with Greg during my first cruise. He had found me, strangely, a little nosy when I’d been investigating another crime and we’d had a minor falling out at the time.

  I was in the crew section, having arrived down from upstairs, and it was just a short walk back to my cabin. Greg and two other men that I didn’t recognize were leaning against one of the bulkheads just outside a door to one of the crew recreation rooms. Given his tight white cut-off shorts and bright Hawaiian shirt, Greg was clearly off-duty and not just taking a short break.

  “Well, if it isn’t the social media siren herself.” Greg slapped his leg in amusement at his clever term for me. But since his tone was light and airy, I assumed he wasn’t trying to be mean. “How’s it going?”

  Greg had a friendly smile on, so I guessed he had forgiven me for when I had annoyed him last time. Accusing someone of murder tends to make them dislike you.

  “Fine, fine,” I said, not really wanting to get into any details of all the various disasters that had either happened or were still progressing.

  That, and news of the death was under strict embargo.

  “See you later,” said one of the men that was with Greg. He and his partner entered the door they’d been standing outside. Without their presence, I could read the sign, which read Crew Table Tennis Room.

  “Who are those guys? I haven’t seen them around.”

  Greg let out a little laugh. “They’re kitchen hands. They work with me. But honey, there are dozens of people you don’t know on the ship.”

  I supposed he was right. There were dozens and dozens of people I didn’t know. That made it hard to narrow down who could be leaving the postcards and notes for me. It was going to be an uphill struggle to figure that one out. If I ever did.

  One thing about Greg, though, was that he was a gossip. Although he wasn’t directly involved in Hannah’s death as far as I knew, there was a chance he might have heard something. I decided to approach him from a side angle and see where it led.

  “You must be pretty excited,” I said with a knowing smile.

  He cocked his head at me. “Because you’re here? Honey, I get more excited when I make the oatmeal in the morning.”

  I snorted. He was as charming as ever.

  “No, I meant having a celebrity chef on board. Is he one of your idols?”

  It was kind of a mean question. I was pretty sure that Greg would most definitely not consider a celebrity chef to be someone to look up to. I was right.

  “What?” he said slapping his thigh again. “That greased-up pasta slinger? Those two guys who just left cook better than him, and they can’t cook.”

  I tilted my head. “They can’t cook? What’s their job?”

  “Their job is to follow instructions. Put it in the microwave, add hot water, that kind of thing.”

  “Well, he may not be a master chef, but I think Vince is a little better than that, no? I’ve seen him at his demonstrations. His food tastes good, anyway.”

  “Honey, you don’t know what tastes good. That man is good at making dishes look pretty, but he doesn’t know real cooking, soul cooking. He’s a plastic chef.”

  “Plastic?”

  “Oh yeah. He looks the part, but there’s no substance to it. Though I guess there is one thing he’s good at.”

  Greg had fallen in beside me, and we were walking together toward my cabin. The hallways down in this part of the ship were all echoey steel and smelled faintly of grease and paint.

  “What’s that?”

  “He’s good at getting attention from the ladies.”

  “Yeah, he’s got a few super fans, that’s for sure. Did you see one of them chasing him down?”

  “One of them? Nope. Two, and I’ve been trying to avoid the guy.”

  I laughed. “Who was it? The girl with the spatula sunglasses?”

  Greg rolled his eyes. “Don’t even get me started on that one. She’s obsessed with food, and Vince. But not just her, that one who’s friends with the new cruise director. The one who…” He looked at me with a searching look, to see if I knew.

  “… died,” I finished for him, confirming that I already knew the news and he wouldn’t be caught spreading embargoed information.

  “Yeah. Her. You know, I saw her hanging outside his cabin after the first book signing.”

  “Was she trying to get her book signed? She didn’t really get a chance at the event. His wife kicked her out.”

  Greg snorted. “Yeah, right. She didn’t even have a book with her. I think I can guess what she had in mind.”

  “What happened? She didn’t…”

  Greg shook his head. “No way. Meredith and Vince arrived at the same time. They were together. Meredith went after Hannah like an angry lioness in high heels defending her territory. The girl was lucky to escape with her life.” He lifted up his hand and curled his fingers over. “Rawr!”

  I gasped and grabbed him by his shoulders. “What?”

  “I’m exaggerating. I mean, she was really angry. She yelled at her and sent h
er scurrying away like a scared little animal.”

  “She’s a pretty intimidating woman, Meredith.”

  We arrived outside my cabin.

  “She sure is. I wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of her.”

  Greg stopped, looked at the door of my cabin and then looked back at me. “This isn’t your cabin, is it?”

  “It is. Why?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing, nothing. Who am I to judge? You do you, honey.”

  “What?” I asked in frustration. I didn’t know what on earth he was going on about.

  “I mean, I’m not judgmental. Heavens no. If you knew what I had gotten up to in my time—”

  I poked him in the shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “I admire your success with the gentlemen, that’s all.”

  “I’m going to ask you one last time, then I’m going to go all Meredith on you. What. Are. You. Talking. About?”

  A look of doubt flashed across his face, before he clenched his jaw in a look of confidence.

  “Fine. I’ll spell it out. You were on a date with the first officer last night.”

  “And?” It wasn’t any of his business.

  “And I saw the captain coming out of here the other day. I mean, well done you, but—”

  “You saw what? The captain? Coming out of my cabin?”

  Now he looked surprised. “Weren’t you with him?”

  I poked him again. “No, I was not with him. What kind of girl do you take me for?”

  “A successful one?”

  I glared at him. That was not my idea of successful.

  “And you’re sure it was this cabin? Not another one?”

  “Yep. Definitely this one. Are you saying the captain was in here without your permission? Why would he do that?”

  “That is a very good question, Greg. One I’d very much like to know the answer to. Right, I’ve gotta get going.”

  “See you later then, honey. Try not to let any more officers in!”

  I sent him off with a shooing wave. When the door was closed, I fell onto my bunk, and clutched my head.

  What was going on? Surely it wasn’t the captain who had left that postcard here, was it? But if it was, it couldn’t have been him that left the “I know what you did last summer” note. He hadn’t even been aboard the ship then.