Masked to Death (A Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Book 5)

by Christina Freeburn

  Whatever it was, I had a feeling he knew the answer and it annoyed him. “Do you now?”

  He drummed his fingers on the door. “One of your neighbors is giving me the evil eye. I think she’s about to call security on me. I’d rather talk to you in your room. My father told me something rather interesting about your shopping trip in St. Thomas.”

  Was it about John using me to spy on William and Ruth, or that he found me in a cellar? Reluctantly, I allowed Ted in. “I’m planning on going to the show tonight so we have to wrap this talk up quick.”

  “Fine. Why did you tell me you tripped instead of the truth?” Ted worked his jaw back and forth. Every muscle in his body was tight.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have wanted to rush this.

  “Faith—”

  “I didn’t want you to worry, or know that I was helping your father investigate a case.”

  “He shouldn’t have asked you.”

  I’d had that similar thought, but wasn’t admitting it to Ted. Besides, if I wasn’t involved, his mom would’ve been thrown in the brig. Or at least I believed so. “Maybe not, but he did and I agreed. He told me your mom was one the suspects and I wanted to make sure your dad didn’t railroad her.”

  “My father has many faults, but making up evidence to arrest someone isn’t one of them. He takes the law seriously.”

  “How was I supposed to know that?”

  Ted fought back a smile.

  “John had asked me to keep an eye on Ronnie as he was concerned William was trying to involve her in the diamond scheme, and it would hurt Garrison if Ronnie was tangled up in the mess.”

  His smile slipped. “A lot worse happened, which is what I’ve come to talk to you about.”

  I felt a pressure in my chest, like a small rock was grinding against my breastbone. “Please don’t tell me someone else has died.”

  “No, but Lucinda has found a way to make herself vanish. She’s been in her room, but no one has spotted her since the costume ball.”

  “The night William was killed, I saw Lucinda talking to Paul and Glenda.”

  Lucinda was out and about. She knew the ship. Because of her illness, crew members were staying away from her so they didn’t catch whatever she had. Had William confessed something to Lucinda, or had Lucinda feared William was trying to set her up? While I knew Ruth was allowing William to steal her jewels, neither William nor Lucinda knew that.

  Ted wandered out to the veranda.

  I was getting wet after all. The moon was hidden behind the clouds. The water appeared darker and menacing tonight. Every movement of the boat had my body on high alert. I stood beside Ted.

  He braced his arms on the railing, peering down. “This vacation hasn’t been what either of us planned.”

  “No. Life is rude like that. Comes along and changes things up without our permission or asking us for input.”

  Ted turned, back pressing into the rail. “That’s happened to you a lot. Your first marriage. Having to leave the Army and change your career from working in law to clerking at a scrapbooking store.”

  “At least I’m back at home with my grandmothers. And I’m assistant manager at Scrap This. I get to order scrapbooking items. Make layouts for classes. I love crafting and get to do it for a living. It could be worse.” I smiled at him. “I also met you.”

  “Am I a negative or a positive in your life?” A smile played at his lips.

  I kissed his cheek. “A positive. Most of the time. There were times you were the last person I wanted to speak to, and look how we get along now.”

  “I need a little closer look.” Ted wound his arms around me and dipped his head. I met his lips halfway. I felt the scorching kiss down to my painted toenails. Ted’s hands roamed up and down my back. I wanted to ditch my plans for the one Ted’s touch promised, but there was enough emotional upheaval in our worlds right now.

  “Save those thoughts for later.” I reluctantly bobbed and weaved out of his touch. Heading back into the room, I snagged the handle of my small tote and my Canon Rebel. “There’s a show I want to catch.”

  When I reached the atrium, there were a few front-row seats left. I brought my camera, hoping to get some amazing pictures of the aerialists for my scrapbook. I heard a sniffle. Six chairs down the makeshift row consisting of lounge chairs and a couch was Ruth. She dabbed at her pale cheeks with an embroidered handkerchief. She had cared about William. He wasn’t a villain to her.

  I walked over to her. “Is this chair taken?”

  “No.” Ruth’s voice was monotone. She gazed off at nothing, not bothering to see who asked.

  I sat down, adjusting the chair so she had personal space and I had a clear shot of the lowered bars.

  Her shoulder shook, tears running down her wrinkled cheeks. “I’m sorry, but I’d like to leave.”

  “Of course.”

  Ruth used her cane to push herself out of the deep chair. “Thank you.” Our eyes met. She dropped back into the chair, adjusting the grip on her cane as if she was holding a bat.

  I scooted my chair farther from hers.

  “Why did you tell a detective what I told you?”

  “Once William died, it seemed important that they know.”

  “They questioned me all morning.” She swiped at her cheeks. “Wanted me to describe what I knew William took and give them names of my friends. There was no need to drag me into that sordid mess.” Her hand shook so hard, the cane slipped from her grip.

  I was a horrible person. I had wanted to comfort her, not cause her more anguish. “I’m sorry for your loss. The only way the captain can find out who was responsible for what happened is by having the truth.”

  The lights flickered. Ruth cradled her cane in her hand. “I’d prefer if you leave me be. William had wanted to watch this performance as a final farewell to his sister. Instead of saying goodbye to her tonight, he said hello to her yesterday.”

  The performers came out in simple black outfits, carrying pastel scarves. The performers were somber. The music piped through the sound system was subdued.

  Bernard stepped onto the stage. “Tonight’s performance is dedicated to our coworker, friend, and family member Veronica Hastings, whose life was cut short by a tragic accident at sea. The dance tonight was choreographed by her fellow aerialists, showcasing the routines Veronica performed which wowed all and made her the grande dame of the Serenade.” He blew a kiss toward the ceiling. “We can go on, dear Ronnie, knowing you are somewhere spectacular where you are finally happy and free.”

  When some of the pain ebbed from Ronnie’s death, I’d gift Garrison an album with these pictures. It might offer him some comfort knowing her fellow performers cherished her. I zoomed in to get pictures of each individual aerialist, holding my finger down to capture multiple images in seconds. With the low lighting and the distance from my front-row seat to the stage, I’d get some duds. I wanted plenty of choices.

  The first aerialist secured the scarf to the bar. My mind urged me to remember something about Ronnie’s death. It was there. If only I could grab onto it. My journal. I wrote everything down that night in case it was important later. I pulled the journal from my bag.

  I hadn’t revisited the words of that day, not wanting the reminder, especially after my mind conjured up Ronnie’s ghost. Using my cell as a light, I read what I wrote. The scarf had been tied to the rail, like in movies when a kidnapped victim was escaping using sheets tied together. It wasn’t doubled over and threaded through itself like the aerialist’s was.

  There was no way Ronnie would’ve been able to pull herself back up to the rail. She’d have known that. Ronnie took pride in being a performer. She loved it. And Garrison. She wanted to be there for his wedding. I had also heard her fighting with a man moments before I entered her room, which Ronnie denied and said was her arguing with herself. Had it been William? But if so, why would he be killed?

  The security camera pointing toward Ronnie’s veranda had been broken. The
retracting floor of the swimming pool was tampered with. A crew member fiddling with those items wouldn’t raise suspicion. For all his faults, William had cared about Ronnie. She was his family. What if he suspected someone and confronted them?

  Like the hard-to-find Lucinda. The other night, her voice had been gravelly. I could’ve easily mistaken her for a man the night Ronnie died. It was possible Lucinda had gotten her keycard back from the security guard and disembarked from the ship in St. Thomas, but hadn’t conducted the tour. Had she followed William and Ruth instead? Maybe she wanted a cut of the money or was the brains behind the operation. Ronnie was tough physically, but emotionally fragile. Had Lucinda grown concerned that the captain or John would break Ronnie, so she silenced her forever?

  I sent Ted a text. “Has anyone found Lucinda?”

  He replied with one word: “Negative.”

  My fingers flew over the keyboard. “I don’t trust her.”

  “Neither do I.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Today was our last day on the ship. I stood on my veranda, watching us dock at the last port. I rested against the railing, cell in one hand, coffee mug in the other. Tomorrow, we’d return home and go about our lives. Or at least most of us. There had been so much loss on this ship. I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to cruise again. If a person felt threatened, there was nowhere to escape, except for the watery depths. I glanced down at my cell. Still no update from Ted. Did that mean Lucinda had been found?

  Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back, smoothing my hair from my face and trying to get rid of the melancholy mood settling over me. The ship made a grinding noise and pivoted. I opened my eyes.

  A group of waving crew members stood on the wooden dock held up by concrete columns. We were at our last port, Haiku, the cruise line’s private side of the island. The sand was smooth, unmarred by footprints. The turquoise waters gently lapped at the shore. It was a breathtaking sight. The walk to the beach wasn’t very far. Small huts, private cabanas rented out to cruise guests, were situated on the left-hand side.

  There was a knock on the door. I stepped back into the room, closing the sliding door. No need to air condition the outside.

  “Room service.”

  My Spidey senses tingled. My coffee had already been delivered. “Wrong room.”

  “I have the hang tag. It is for your room.”

  “Leave it by the door.” I wanted to argue with the delivery person, should have, but I was curious about my breakfast. I heard the guy leaving, grumbling under his breath. He thought I was trying to get out of tipping him. Before I removed the security chain, I cracked open the door and looked down. There was a room service tray. The scent of coffee wafted up to me.

  I unfastened the chain and retrieved the tray. Quickly, I secured myself back in my room. I had read—and involved myself in—enough mysteries not to take the breakfast at face value. I lifted the lid. The plate was filled with a variety of pastries and in a small bowl was an assortment of jellies and butters. My stomach rumbled. No way was I touching any of it. Underneath the plate, I spotted the edge of a small beige envelope.

  I opened it up. It was a request from the captain for a private meeting. He’d like to meet by the morgue. Going off to meet someone near a morgue screamed bad idea and potential victim in the making. There was no way for me to know if the captain actually wrote the invitation, or if someone like Lucinda had written it and slipped it under the plate. If it really was a meeting that needed kept on the down low, I understood the clandestine efforts for it, though a phone call would’ve worked as well. Better actually, as I wasn’t buying what the note was selling.

  But I was intrigued. I knew John hadn’t arranged this. He’d have used his magical key and waltzed into my room. I drummed the card on my fingertips. I couldn’t stay here all morning and contemplate all the evil-doing scenarios in my head. Time was ticking. According to the note, the meeting started in twenty minutes. I picked up my cell and called Ted. If he didn’t answer, I’d send him an SOS text. He’d respond immediately. I wasn’t looking forward to my phone bill at the end of the month. I was racking up a nice amount of roaming charges.

  “I’m so proud of you,” Ted said.

  “You’re proud of me for calling you?” Gee, he sure had lowered the bar when it came to my behavior.

  “Yes. I was afraid you’d just go meet with the captain. I figured I received the same notice as you. I was coming to your room.”

  I opened up the door. Ted was walking down the hallway. He looked horrible. I didn’t think the poor guy got much sleep last night. His clothes were wrinkled and he was unshaven. The scruffy look didn’t do a thing for him.

  Ted held up his hands in surrender, slowing down to a shuffle. “The captain thought it was the only way to get a message to us without alerting anyone else. He’s hoping Lucinda will get nervous if she doesn’t hear anything and will pop out of hiding.”

  “She’s still gone? The ship isn’t that large.”

  “She’s found a great spot to hide, or someone is helping her.”

  “Has every room been checked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you and the captain checked the morgue? Maybe she’s taking up residence with Quinn and William.” I quickly asked for forgiveness for my tasteless suggestion. I prayed lightning didn’t strike me down.

  “You don’t want to help search it?”

  I shivered. “Nope.”

  “I’m sure it’s been checked. And if she got into the unit with Quinn or William, she isn’t getting out without help.”

  “I’ll grab my beach bag and go with you.” I slipped back inside, retrieving my bag. The morgue was on the same floor where we disembarked. I didn’t want to have to backtrack, especially since I’d be on the correct floor. I might be able to make it to the front of the pack and not have to wait in a Black Friday cheap-TV-for-sale-length line.

  I linked my arm through Ted’s. “Couldn’t he have picked a nicer meeting place? The morgue is creepy.”

  “It’s where he’s meeting the FBI agents. Two agents are boarding the ship, one to look into Quinn’s death and the other to handle William’s murder investigation. There’s also talk about taking a closer look at Ronnie’s death as the agents aren’t quite ready to believe it was a suicide. Bob, my dad, and I will fill them in on what we’ve learned. The captain will be handing over all evidence. I’ll be glad to be done with this matter.”

  “Word is going to spread quickly.”

  “That’s why agents are coming onboard after most of the guests have disembarked onto the island.”

  “What if Lucinda escapes?”

  “It’ll be hard. The police have been notified and are keeping an eye on the fence that separates the cruise line’s side of the island from the locals. Her only option will be to swim for it. She’ll be stopped by the Coast Guard cruiser stationed a few miles from shore.”

  “Your mom will ask where you are.”

  “I’ve taken care of that. I told my family I’m sick. I’m going to rest.”

  I looked him up and down. “I can see why they believed you. You look awful.”

  “Thanks.”

  Since Ted had already explained the situation to me, which irritated the captain as Ted stole his thunder, he dismissed me after a few minutes. I was at the front of the line. The Roget clan—minus the law enforcement contingent of the bunch—weaved their way up front to take advantage of my place in line. People started grumbling, but Odessa silenced them with one look.

  “We don’t want to lose you in the crowd,” Odessa said. “We need to make more of an effort to stick with you.”

  Her act of inclusion seemed a little like a threat to me because of the deep pout on Claire’s face. She was determined not to like me. This had been a stressful week, so I was giving myself and Claire a break. I’d work on becoming friends with the tween during her visits with Ted.

  She’d see that I was fun to be around.

  “I jus
t want off this ship,” Garrison said.

  The few passengers in front of me moved forward.

  “Adults to the left, children to the right,” the cruise director announced through a megaphone as we stepped onto the dock. A group of cruise photographers snapped away.

  “In twenty minutes, we’ll start the family hunt. Please stay in your proper group so you can win age-appropriate prizes. The tickets that are buried describe the prize and the age it’s intended for.”

  “Claire and I will wait for the family hunt to begin.” Elizabeth tried holding her daughter’s hand. Immediately, Claire took large steps away from her mother. Elizabeth’s mouth trembled, the hurt clear on her face.

  “I’d like to go with the other kids,” Claire said. “They’re splitting us up into age groups. I bet all the family prizes are for parents of younger kids. I’d really like to win something cool. Please, Mom? It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with you.” She tried very hard not to shift her gaze in my direction.

  There was a lone towel cart parked underneath a palm tree. A crew member was practically inside of it, legs dangled out while their head was deep down in the towels. Why was the crew member reaching so far down when there were plenty of towels on top? The person straightened, walking away with a stack of towels. The towels were blocking the person’s face. The gait was familiar. I believed Lucinda managed to sneak off the boat by hiding in the towel cart.

  “I have my spot all staked out.” I shook out my treasure map. “While you guys work out what you’re doing, I’m going treasure hunting. I’ll see you back on the ship.” I walked away like I knew where I was going, not like I was desperate to catch up with someone, even though I was.

  When Lucinda turned the corner, she dropped the towels near a golf cart the employees used to transport those with disabilities. This particular cart had its innards on the ground. It wasn’t going to be used anytime soon.

  Lucinda hurried along the pathway, neck twisting to the left and right. Instead of her usual outfit of a little black dress, she wore the standard crew-member garb: white shirt, khaki pants, and a cap. One hand was hidden under her shirt, a bar-like object pressed against her chest. The sun glinted off the tip of the object peeking out from the hem of her shirt. A small shovel. Was Lucinda preparing to bury evidence or dig something up? She paused and turned around, a frown developing as she scanned the area. Her cap was pulled down low on her forehead and large aviator style sunglasses hid half her face. She paused, shaded eyes focused in my general direction.