It didn’t fix the fact that she had tried to kill me and frame Meredith though. I couldn’t forgive her, but I did feel just a smidgeon of sympathy for her. She’d lost everything now. But perhaps she would be happier in a padded cell than she had been out in the real world.
When Beverly was gone, the captain walked over to me.
“Good job today. I think you’ve earned the rest of the evening off.”
“Thank you, sir.” I decided not to mention that technically I was a nine-to-five worker and wasn’t even supposed to be working right then. “Could I ask you something?”
The captain looked startled. “Ask me something?”
I nodded. There was one final thing that I needed to clear up. The matter of what Greg Washington had told me, about the captain being in my cabin.
“Well, I suppose.”
“This is a bit awkward. But did you try and visit me in my cabin?” It was doubly awkward because I had been in his cabin, but I wasn’t about to admit that. I did want to try and tie up this loose end though.
“No,” he said confidently. Then he caught the expression on my face, as I was about to explain that actually Greg Washington had seen him. “I mean, I did briefly drop by. I wanted to ask how your investigation was going. But you weren’t there.”
I nodded slowly. “Oh, right. Someone mentioned they’d seen you, but I never found a message or anything.”
The captain nodded. “Right. I didn’t leave one. I… decided it wasn’t important.” He paused, as if thinking. “I didn’t want to come across as interfering, you see. So I just forgot about it.”
“Right, thanks. I was just wondering.”
The captain nodded again awkwardly and then turned away from me.
I caught Greg Washington’s eye. He raised his palms up and gave a shrug. I guessed Greg hadn’t actually seen him opening the cabin door; he’d just seen the captain outside my cabin and made assumptions.
“Ethan?” The captain called his first officer’s attention. “Do you think they’ve saved us some dessert?”
“I’m sure they have, sir. If you don’t mind, though, I would ask to be excused from the rest of the dinner. I think I better go down and release Meredith, and try and put things right with her. As best I can, anyway.”
The captain raised his eyebrows in surprise. He’d clearly forgotten that he had the wife of their onboard celebrity locked-up below decks. Or maybe he was just surprised that Ethan would miss dessert over such a trifling manner.
“Well, let me know how it goes.”
“I’ll call you later tonight, sir.”
The captain frowned and shook his head. “The morning will be fine. Mr. Washington? Olivia? Everyone else?”
There were murmurs of agreement and mutters of disappointment at the ‘show’ being over, but the captain soon left with his now decreased entourage in tow.
“You better get yourself dried off.” Ethan was looking at me, shaking his head in mild amusement. I guessed it was quite funny, ending up in the same swimming pool with crazy women twice in one day. “Again.”
“Yeah,” I said with a wry smile. “Will do. Again. Have a good night, Ethan.”
“I’m just about to go and admit to Meredith DeLuca that we wrongfully locked her up. I don’t think I’m going to have a good night at all.”
I gave him a gentle punch in the arm. “You’ll be fine. Good luck!”
“Thanks. We’ll catch up soon, Adrienne, okay?”
“Yeah. I want to talk to you about something in the morning, anyway.”
He gave me a curious look but didn’t push it.
I figured by the morning I’d know whether Meredith was going to wash her hands of everything and everyone to do with Swan cruises, or whether she’d still be happy to poach me from them. Would she see me as a savior for revealing Beverly as the killer, or would Meredith have me pegged as a collaborator in locking her up?
Right then, in my wet clothes and with my throat beginning to feel like I’d drunk a gallon of boiling water, all I cared about was getting dry and getting to sleep.
With a half-smile, I looked over the now quiet-again Lagoon Pool, gave a disbelieving shake of my head, and began the wet trudge back to my cabin.
It had been a long day.
Chapter 30
I trudged back to my cabin in my wet clothes and sodden shoes, feeling oddly upbeat. When I arrived, I could hear two familiar voices coming from within.
I pushed open the door and drippily made my way inside.
“You’re wet!” said Sam.
I nodded at her.
“Did you sneak off and go skinny dipping without me?” asked Cece with a look of mock outrage.
Wearily, I rolled my eyes at her.
“If I’d gone skinny dipping, my clothes wouldn’t be wet, would they, genius?”
“Hey! Just because I haven’t been to college yet…”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her. I leaned back against the metal desk, not wanting to go any nearer my bed until I’d dried off.
“Your ice cream’s there.”
I looked down. Sure enough, on the desk were two bowls of ice cream, each with four big half-melted scoops.
“Now, are you going to tell us what we’ve been missing out on?” asked Cece.
I shook my head. “Give me a few minutes to get showered and changed. Then I’ll tell you all about it.”
“You going to eat that ice cream?” asked Cece.
I shrugged. “You know, I don’t think I need it anymore. You guys go ahead if you want.”
“Actually, we had some in the canteen before we came back,” said Sam, rising to her feet.
“Suit yourself,” I said with a shrug and a grin. The grin was because I was watching Sam’s hands traveling directly to the two bowls.
“Of course, it’d be a shame to waste them.”
“Gimme,” commanded Cece, arm outstretched. Sam handed a bowl over to her.
I grabbed my towel and pajamas, and headed for the small bathroom.
“Back in a bit.”
As I looked over my shoulder, Cece had stuck her spoon into her bowl and just before she took her first mouthful she gave me a wicked look.
“Unless you want me to join you in there…?”
I leaned over and gave her a sharp jab on the arm. Wasn’t that joke ever going to get old?
T he next day, it was a bright and sunny morning as we docked back in our home port of New Orleans. Although it was a thousand miles from where I was from, it still felt like coming home to me. When the ship was secured and with the gangways locked into place, it was time to participate in the cruise ship tradition of saying goodbye and waving off all the passengers as they disembarked.
Despite the fact that the cruise could most charitably be described as ‘not a complete disaster,’ I was feeling upbeat. I’d slept like a baby for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Have you seen Meredith?” I said to Sam who was stationed beside me, a genuine smile plastered across her face.
She shook her head. “Nope. Not yet. Maybe Ethan decided to keep her locked up a bit longer.”
We both grinned at that. Then Sam nudged me and gestured with her chin.
“Isn’t that Vince?”
Vince was strolling down the deck, his shoulders slack and his pace slow, his hands clasped behind his back. If I wasn’t mistaken, he also appeared to be trying to whistle.
“Good morning,” I said when he approached.
“Oh, hello! It’s a wonderful day, isn’t it?”
“Yes…” I hoped he would jump in with a job offer, and I wouldn’t have to push for it.
“I thought I’d take one last stroll before leaving. Say goodbye to it all.”
It all? That sounded ominous, but he looked remarkably relaxed and content.
“Is Meredith with you?”
He tilted his head at me, furrowed his brow, and then his features broke into a broad grin.
�
��Meredith? Oh, no. Nope. She’s not.” I kept staring at him, waiting for an explanation. He finally twigged. “I decided to pack it all in. Finish. Return to my roots.”
“You’re…moving to Italy? I thought you grew up here.”
Vince laughed softly. “No, no. I’m returning to my real roots. How I was without Meredith.”
This time, my brows drew together. I felt like I was solving a very bad riddle. “How you were without Meredith—you mean, single? You’re leaving her?”
He shrugged. “Me leaving her, her leaving me, what does it matter?”
I stared at him some more. It certainly did matter. Out with it!
“When she was locked up, I spent time with that chef, Greg, and he made me realize something. He made me realize that I miss it. The cooking, that is. The pure, real, actual cooking. Cooking food that’s to be eaten, not for the television. Real food for real people. Not pretty food for bloggers and TV producers.
“So…” I prodded, leaning in toward him. It was hard work getting the news out of him.
“So I quit!” He clapped his hands together triumphantly as he said it.
“Quit?”
“Yep!” he said happily. “I’m done with being a ‘celebrity’ chef.” He made little air quotes as he spoke. “I want to go back into a real kitchen. A small one. Open my own little restaurant, just me, a sous and a comis, and forget all the rest of it. No more oil and makeup. No more hair stylists. No more books or TV shows or blogs or apps or any of that. Just fresh ingredients, a sharp knife, and my own kitchen arranged the way I like it.”
I folded my arms across my chest.
“So you won’t be needing a PR manager then?”
He shook his head with a happy smile. “To be honest, I don’t even know what a PR manager is! That was all Meredith’s doing. When I told her this morning I was done with the life of being a celebrity chef, she told me she was done with me. It was like a weight lifted off my shoulders, I can tell you.”
I wanted to be annoyed, but I realized I wasn’t. Not really. That job could have been a stepping stone into a whole new career, but it would have meant leaving my friends behind and working with Meredith. And goodness knows how she would have reacted when she finally found out that Cece and I weren’t actually a couple.
“And I’ll get in touch with Hannah’s mother,” he added softly. “The poor girl died. I’m not sure if I really was her father or not, but her mother will tell me. I think—I think I really may have been her dad.”
There was a long silence. A range of emotions flickered over Vince’s face.
“I hope you figure it all out,” I said, knowing that he would. I held out my hand. “Good luck, Vince.”
He shook it warmly. “You too, you too.” He gave my hand a final squeeze and then a pat. “I suppose I better go and get my things. It’s been a pleasure.”
He doffed an imaginary cap, bowed to Sam and me, and headed back inside the ship, grinning like a fool the whole way.
“You didn’t want to take that job and leave us anyway, did you?” said Sam.
I smiled at her. “Busted.”
“I’ve got to get going actually. Talk to you later.”
Before I could question her further, Sam had scurried away inside the ship after Vince.
“Adrienne.”
That was why Sam had disappeared. I turned around, a smile on my face.
“Ethan.”
“You wanted to tell me something this morning, right?”
I had a faint smile on my lips while I thought about it. Would I really have told him I was leaving to go and work for Meredith and Vince? Maybe. Maybe not. At least now I wouldn’t have to find out.
“Oh, I was just wondering, are there any cruise directors who aren’t murderers or thieves?”
He laughed. “So you’re not going to take the PR job then?”
I shook my head. I had a feeling he knew what had gone on between Meredith and Vince already.
“No. I think maybe I’ll stick around here for another cruise or two. If I’m not fired, that is.”
“You know, normally publicly accusing a guest of being a murderer and then getting into a brawl with her would be a fireable offense. But I had a word with the HR people. Called them up first thing.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. When I explained that I, too, had basically accused another passenger of being a murderer, and then the actual murderer—your boss—had tried to kill you, they became somewhat sympathetic.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Just somewhat?”
He gave me a deep, rich laugh. “You know what those office drones are like. They have no idea what it’s really like out at sea.”
I smiled at that. We worked on a cruise ship, not a North Atlantic oil rig. Though it seemed to me that in some ways, this life was just as dangerous—at least when you were sailing with murderers.
“You know, if you were thinking about a career move—”
“I’m not now,” I said, interrupting him. With my current job saved and the PR job vanished, I’d already made up my mind to give my current position my all.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I was just going to say, there’s a cruise director position that just opened up again. You might want to consider applying.”
I looked up at him. His eyes seemed to twinkle in the bright, cheery morning light and we both smiled at each other.
“Maybe I will,” I said. “Maybe I will.”
“Ethan!” came a shout from far up the deck. It was the captain.
“Duty calls. Dinner later, tonight?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” I had been taken somewhat by surprise by the sudden invitation. A second date it was.
“Try not to fall into any more pools before then,” he said with a grin, before walking smartly away toward the captain, his white uniform shining in the sunlight, and his shoulders looking broader than ever.
A cruise director. Me. Could it be possible?
I pulled out my phone and began flicking through the photographs until I found the ones I wanted. The ones I’d snapped in the captain’s cabin—his list of names and comments about the various officers and department heads serving aboard the ship.
It wouldn’t hurt to read through them…
I leaned on the railing, breathing in the salty sea air, and looked through the captain’s notes.
Maybe I could make a career out of this.
And of course, there was still the mystery of the “I know what you did last summer” notes and postcards I’d been taunted with. A mystery that could be much easier to solve with some extra clout to throw around.
I took another deep breath of ocean air and closed my eyes.
There’d be plenty of time to find answers to all those questions on the next cruise.
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Sneak Peak: A Berry Deadly Welcome
Chapter One
"C ome on, come on." I gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. My car was out of gas. Rather, my ex-husband's car was out of gas. I had "borrowed" it to make the trip from Chicago, Illinois down to C
amden Falls, Kentucky. I'd had to make the trip somehow, and I'd been too broke to buy a bus ticket.
I rocked back and forth in my seat a couple of times, trying to will my momentum into the car. I knew that wouldn't help it inch forward off the road and into the curbside parking spot, but I did it all the same. I couldn't stop myself.
"Just a little more!" The engine gagged, coughed, spluttered and then bucked before rattling and dying. That was okay, though. When it bucked, the car lurched forward that little bit more that I'd needed to get it off the road. I wasn't going to have to abandon it with its butt end sticking halfway out into the road.
I eyed the road around me. It was huge. It wasn't eight lanes huge or anything like that. There were only two lanes, one coming and one going, but the main street of little Camden Falls could have accommodated four tractor trailers driving side by side. Even with so much room, the traffic was slow and lazy, cars meandering instead of rushing. There were two and three car-lengths between each car that passed. I was used to seeing cars in Chicago drive headlight to bumper, but that wasn't happening here.
On top of that, there were almost no people. I eyeballed around thirty or forty people walking around. They walked in small groups or alone, but always spread out with plenty of distance in-between.
I turned my attention toward a pickup truck that was driving past. The truck's driver nodded his head at me and then lifted his palm in a small side-to-side wave. Panic flooded me, and my heart skittered and jumped as badly as the engine had a moment earlier. My ex probably already had a warrant out for my arrest, and it would be just like him to hire someone to keep an eye out for me.
I twisted to see if anything was coming from behind and then jumped out of the car. It was a pearl white Mercedes S-Class, and I'd probably never get the chance to drive anything like it again—especially if my ex had me put in jail. If that happened, I wouldn't even need to worry about how I'd look when I renewed my driver's license. I wouldn't need to worry about where my next meal was coming from or where I was going to sleep tonight.
"Maybe I should get arrested." I couldn't keep the hopefulness out of my voice as I glanced around, but I didn't see any police. "Live to fight another day," I said with a scowl before forcing my features to relax. I didn't want to get wrinkles.
Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries 02 - Cooks, Crooks and Cruises Page 17
