Cruise Chaos: A Humorous Cruise Ship Cozy Mystery (Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries Book 3)

by A. R. Winters

  “Really.” Sam’s eyes sparkled with excitement and her earlier lethargy had disappeared, replaced with excited, nervous energy. I felt the same. We might actually be getting somewhere with figuring out what happened to Felicity Bull.

  Hesitantly, I pressed the numbers into my phone. “Here goes...” I punched the button to make it connect. After a few seconds, the phone began to ring. While we were waiting for it to be answered, I pressed the button to put my phone on speaker so that Sam could hear too.

  It was answered on the third ring. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded like a smoker. Not just because it was deep and husky, but because I could literally hear him blowing out smoke before he spoke in a fast, wheezy voice. I immediately imagined the speaker to be a man of about forty who looked closer to seventy. It was that kind of unhealthy, hard-living voice.

  “Edward? The fight, right? I can do ya three to two on Jones for a KO. What do ya say?”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what the man was talking about. I quickly pressed the mute button on my phone.

  “What do I say?”

  “He sounds like a bookie. Gambling. He was offering you odds to bet on a fight.”

  I peered at Sam wondering how she knew that. The look she gave me back seemed to say I wonder how you don’t know that? I un-muted the phone.

  “Umm, I think I might have the wrong number. You’re not Mister... umm...” My mind went blank. I couldn’t think of a single name. Not one.

  “Hey! How’d ya get this number? Who’re ya?”

  “Adrienne J—”

  I didn’t get to finish speaking because Samantha frantically leaned over and pressed the button to hang the phone up.

  “What are you doing!? Why were you going to tell him your name?”

  “I don’t know! I just panicked! What was I supposed to do?”

  “Pretty much anything at all except tell him your name. You know, sing him a song. Recite bible verses. Tell him your favorite recipe. Or just hang the darn thing up!”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I just panicked.” I glared down at my phone accusingly.

  “Obviously. Anyway, I don’t think it matters. All you told him was your first name and he can’t do anything with that. And it’s only a bookie anyway.”

  Just then, as if the bookie had heard what Sam had said, my phone began to ring. The ring which normally sounded chirpy now seemed vaguely threatening. According to the screen, it was an unknown number.

  I tentatively reached out and pressed the answer button, and then the speakerphone button again.

  “Hello?”

  “Listen up, ya rat. I don’t know who ya are or what you’re playing at.” The man on the other end paused for another wheezing breath out and it sounded like he breathed in again through a cigarette. “This is a private number. Don’t call again. You’re not welcome. If ya do, ya know what’ll happen to ya.”

  I didn’t.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Snitches get—”

  Sam reached across and pressed the call cancel button before I could find out.

  “Adrienne! He was threatening you! We don’t want to mess with that.”

  "Sam, am I in trouble?"

  She pursed her lips in thought. "Maybe. I guess we found out that payment wasn't for the cruise though. And that definitely wasn’t Edward Dane’s literary agent.”

  "Yeah. It sounds more like Edward is paying them than the other way around."

  Sam and I sat in silent thought for a minute.

  "I think you’d better tell Ethan," said Sam finally.

  I thought about it for a moment. Ethan, as first officer, was also head of security, and it was him that would officially be investigating the murder. Not only had I found out some relevant information, I may even have brought danger to us and the ship.

  "You're right.” I said, standing up on weary legs. “Come on. Let's go."

  Sam, revitalized, bounced to her feet and we went to tell Ethan what we had discovered.

  Chapter 17

  On the way to Ethan Lee’s office, Cece called me. I answered it while we walked.

  “You got that dress for me?”

  I looked down at my hands as if expecting it to be there. I couldn’t remember what I’d done with it.

  “It’s in the lounge,” said Sam with an amused smile.

  “It’s in the lounge,” I said to Cece.

  “Yeah, I heard.” I thought I could detect Cece rolling her eyes down the other end of the phone.

  Sam stopped walking. “I’ll go back and get it and take it to her cabin.”

  “Will you? Thanks so much. I’ll see you later at the next scene.”

  I waved goodbye to Sam.

  “Cece? Sam’s going to—”

  “—Yep. Got it. Later.”

  Cece hung up before I could finish telling her what she’d already overheard. I dropped the phone back into the large front pocket of my gown and carried on.

  When I arrived outside Ethan Lee’s office, the orderly who was normally stationed by the door told me I’d have to wait.

  “Is he busy?”

  The white-uniformed man nodded.

  “He’s in a meeting with the captain right now. I don’t imagine it will be too long.”

  We both stared at the door to Ethan’s office. From within, I could hear the voices of the two men. This was unusual, because the door was normally good at soundproofing. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, it was too muffled, but their conversation sounded quite acrimonious. They may even have been arguing.

  I stood right next to the door, as nonchalantly as possible, but I couldn’t make out any of the individual words.

  When the door swung open, I jumped back, startled.

  “Good afternoon, sir!” I said to the captain.

  He had a frown on his face and my cheery greeting did nothing to relieve it. He gave a perfunctory nod at me, walking away without saying another word.

  “Adrienne? Is that you? Come in.”

  When I entered Ethan’s office, I found him standing behind his large wooden desk. There were two chairs in front of the desk, but one of them looked out of place, as if it had been pushed back angrily and was now angled off to the side rather than facing the desk where it was normally located.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked him.

  Ethan smiled at me, but I could tell it was more of an act than normal. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he was somewhat red in the face, as if he’d been furious but his anger was now settling back down.

  “Yes, fine. Everything’s fine.”

  He looked down as he walked around his desk, not quite meeting my eye. On the left-hand side of the room were a pair of two-seater sofas and a coffee table between them. He used that area for more informal meetings.

  “Take a seat.”

  I sat on the closest of the two opposing sofas, leaning forward with my hands resting on my knees.

  “It sounded like you and the captain were arguing.” I figured there was no point in beating around the bush. He’d either tell me, and alleviate my curiosity, or he wouldn’t.

  “You could hear that outside, could you?” He looked toward the door with narrowed eyes, as if blaming it for its poor job of maintaining his privacy. “We... well, we aren’t seeing eye to eye on something.” Ethan kept clasping and unclasping his hands while he spoke. He was hiding something.

  “Oh?” I said, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t.

  I was left with the overwhelming impression that Ethan neither liked nor trusted the captain, but he was too good a person and employee to actually say it outright to me.

  “What’s happening with Greg?” I asked him when the silence had dragged on long enough.

  “Ah. I spoke to him for quite a while earlier and got down everything he told us before in more detail. I looked into Felicity Bull, and her career in reality television. What Greg told us was true, of course.”

  “I was su
re he was telling us the truth,” I said.

  “The reality show they made about restaurants? It flopped. It only played well in the region where it was filmed, but nationwide it didn’t gain any traction. And there was some bad publicity about them faking certain events, which obviously ties in with what Greg told us. Piecing together what I found, it seems someone who worked on the show was fired over the faked events. I suspect that person was Felicity Bull, but I can’t confirm that yet.”

  While it was good to know that Greg had been telling us the truth, it was unfortunate that the truth did give him a pretty good motive for wanting to murder Felicity Bull.

  “Where is he now?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t hold him. While he does have a motive for wanting her dead, and it was unfortunate that he found the body, there’s no evidence that it was him that actually killed her. And I don’t believe he did it. It doesn’t feel like something Greg would do, does it?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.” He’d be much more likely to poison someone’s food. I kept that thought to myself, though. I didn’t really think Greg was capable of killing anyone. He just wasn’t that kind of person. Throw a bucket of water on them? Sure. Embarrass them in front of a crowd? Of course. But kill them? I didn’t buy it.

  “I can’t believe Swan, though,” I said shaking my head.

  “In what way?” said Ethan with a curious look.

  “Hiring someone with a history of faking problems to investigate possible problems on our ship! She could have made anything up and we all could have got in trouble.”

  “I see what you mean.” Ethan frowned and nodded to himself in thought. “They could have hired someone with a better reputation.”

  “Or not hired someone to spy on us at all,” I said darkly.

  “Yes.” Ethan rubbed his hand against his temple. “Or that.” There was something about the way he said it that made me think he wasn’t totally opposed to the idea of an undercover spy on the ship. It was more this spy in particular that he had a problem with.

  “I’m just glad Greg will be available to play his role later on in the diner scene. Since Edward refused to alter his script at all, I’ve been having to work around this morning’s… occurrence. If I lost Greg, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  Ethan gave me an encouraging smile.

  “I’m sure you would’ve managed. You’re very capable, Adrienne. Very capable indeed.” Our eyes met and I realized that he was, in a way, flirting with me. Capable wasn’t exactly the most common adjective guys used to flatter a woman, as far as I knew, but coming from Ethan it was just about the perfect compliment.

  “Was that all you came here about?” After half a second’s pause, he realized that the question didn’t come across well. “I mean, you’re welcome any time. We can talk about anything. I just had the impression that there was something serious you wanted to say.”

  “Right, there was something else.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’ve been doing a bit of, umm, thinking.” I didn’t want to admit that I’d been breaking into cabins. Or conducting a secret investigation. “And it seems to me that the whoever committed the crime was mimicking what was in the murder mystery script. And I was thinking that the Danes knew the script better than anyone.”

  Ethan bit his lip nervously. Like he was worried I’d messed up and come to confess.

  “And... did you do something?”

  “Umm. Well, not really. I just found something.”

  “Go on.”

  I explained to him how I had been talking to Harley in her cabin and come across the note with the bank account and phone number.

  “You called it, didn’t you?” His brown eyes seemed to pierce right through me when he asked that question. I wasn’t sure if he was angry, curious, or proud.

  “I did call it. Yes.”

  “And it wasn’t his agent, was it? If it had been, you would have hung up and you wouldn’t be here telling me about it.”

  “Right.”

  “So, go on then. Who answered?”

  I explained how the bookie had answered the phone, and how he had called back and ended up threatening me.

  Ethan leaned back in his chair and blew out a long stream of air while he thought.

  “Do you have the phone number with you?”

  “Sure. It’s in my phone,” I told him as I pulled out the device and found the number from my call history. “You’re not going to call it, are you? I wouldn’t call it again if I were you...”

  “No, I’m not going to call it. Show me that.”

  He took the phone from my hand and went to his computer behind his desk. I walked over and pulled up the displaced chair, moving it closer to the desk before I sat down.

  “Let’s see what we can find out about this number...”

  Ethan began to type and click his mouse at the screen while I watched and waited. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but it didn’t take too long until he made a final click, and then faced me, hands clasped in front of him.

  “So. You’re right—it is a bookie. The phone number is registered to a guy named Huey Lazenby in Las Vegas. He’s got a whole slew of private numbers. Special clients get their own private line.”

  “Las Vegas is where Edward met Harley. They met at a mystery conference there.”

  “He’s got dozens of phone numbers registered to him, and he has a criminal record as long as Felicity Bull’s list of complaints.”

  We both laughed a little, but it was stilted. It didn’t seem right to be laughing at the dead, even when the dead were awful.

  “I’m going to see what else I can find out. I have a few contacts who might know a thing or two.”

  “You have police friends?” I asked, curiously. I didn’t actually know too much about Ethan’s personal life or his friends. I knew he’d been in the Navy for a number of years before an injury had forced him out, and we’d talked a little about some of his hobbies: long-distance hiking, as well as, unsurprisingly, sailing, swimming and fishing.

  “I’ve got all kinds of friends.” Ethan waggled his eyebrows. “In all kinds of places.”

  “You’re a man of mystery, Ethan Lee.”

  He nodded. “I sure am. But there’s nothing bad underneath my mysterious exterior. Promise.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself.”

  We shared a long, quiet look, but the brief silence wasn’t awkward. Instead, it felt safe. Comforting.

  “Okay, Adrienne, no more calling strange numbers. If you find any more, bring them to me first, all right?”

  “Will do. I just didn’t want to waste your time if it was nothing.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Seeing you is never a waste of time.”

  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

  “I think we’re safe from that bookie and his friends here on the ship. Don’t worry about his threat. People like that talk a big game, but when the chips are down, they’ve got no courage.”

  It was a relief to hear him say it, but I wasn’t convinced it was entirely true. We had a killer on our ship, and who knew who they were connected to?

  “Thanks, Ethan. I feel a lot better about it all. I won’t call any more strange numbers. Promise.”

  He grinned at me and nodded. He put his hands down on the table with a slap.

  “So, have you got time for dinner soon? Tonight?”

  My nod was a bit too enthusiastic and my answer a bit too fast.

  “Yes!” Suddenly feeling awkward, I lowered my voice. “I mean, yes, I’m sure I can fit you in later.”

  “Great. I’ll look forward to it. I’ll send you some details later. Take care, Adrienne.”

  “You too.”

  With a genuine smile on my face that wouldn’t quit, I left his office and headed to my room to freshen up. With two more scenes coming up back to back, I wouldn’t have another chance before dinner.

  Chapter 18

  I smiled the w
hole way back to my cabin after leaving Ethan’s office, and I was still in a cheery mood when I pushed open the heavy bulkhead door.

  Apart from the whole murder thing, and the whole murder mystery needing reorganizing thing, and the whole being threatened by a bookie thing, it had been a pretty awesome day.

  Or maybe it was just the last few minutes that had been awesome.

  While I pondered that thought, I freshened up as best I could. We had two more back-to-back scenes to do later, featuring Cece and then Greg. It promised to be a lot of fun for our amateur sleuth passengers, but it would probably be tiring for us workers.

  While things between Ethan and I hadn’t progressed far—work, by which I mean unfortunate deaths, kept getting in the way—I was optimistic. Things were going slowly, but they seemed to be going well.

  With thoughts of romance on my mind, the oddest romance I’d seen aboard this trip drifted back into my thoughts. Edward and Harley. The famous, wealthy older man and the beautiful young gold digger.

  Only it wasn’t necessarily what it seemed to be on the surface. According to Harley, she was rich herself. And what about Edward? Was he? He was a bestselling author with dozens upon dozens of published books. But he was also deep enough into gambling to have his own bookie with a private line. And now that I thought about it some more, that first phone call I had overheard had sounded like he was in some kind of financial trouble. Was that fourteen thousand dollars a payment he was supposed to make to his bookie?

  If all that was true, maybe Harley hadn’t married Edward for the money. Maybe Edward had married Harley for her money.

  When I was ready, I did a final check in the mirror. Despite saying I was going to wear the same gown for all the scenes I would during the mystery event, I was getting fed up with it already. And no doubt I’d have an eating-accident soon and need to get it cleaned.

  Maybe I would treat myself to one more dress. For work. Not because I wanted to buy it—but because I had to. That’s what I kept telling myself.

  The next scene was Cece’s. With her costume hopefully all sorted out, I was optimistic it would be a success. When I was as ready as I was going to get, I left my cabin and began the long walk back to the pool deck through the ship.