by Diane Rapp
Kayla said, “I’m so sorry.”
“Not to worry. It was ever so long ago and he was much older than me. I got old enough to run with the neighborhood delinquents and discovered a use for my nimble fingers. It was great fun picking pockets until I got caught. But the bobby who nicked me took pity on a scrappy lad, and took me round home rather than throwing me in the dock.”
“What did your mother do?”
Steven’s face reddened. “If she’d tanned my hide, I would’ve gone right out again. She did worse, cried buckets full of tears. I never wanted to see her cry like that again. Jonathan, the bobby promised to look after me and did a right smart job of it. He scared away all my dodgy chums. He also taught me a better use for nimble fingers.” Steven wiggled his long tapered fingers in the sunlight.
“Faced with a boring crime-free future, I put my mind to work and started doing a good job in school. In my spare time I learned every magic trick I could muster. Jonathan fell for Mum and I’m proud to call him Dad. They’re celebrating fifteen years of wedded bliss this year.”
Kayla traced absentminded squiggles in the smooth sand. “Did Jonathan get you into the force?”
“No. I finished school and my magic act impressed a local pub owner. One evening I noticed a drug deal going down in my own neighborhood, and it irked me that dealers openly sold their filth to kids. I decided to put a stop to it and applied to work on the police force. Eventually I worked my way into an undercover team and did a right good magic act as part of my cover. My chief recommended me to Interpol when they were recruiting. I jumped at the chance to chase bad guys in the Caribbean.”
“Does CCL know about your cover?”
Steven nodded. “The company headquarters work with us so I can arrange for days off when they’re most needed. Emily knows the whole story and we had a nice chat before she left the ship. I’ve spent two years following clues to catch the kingpin in a cruiseship drug cartel. I’m sure Patrick masterminded the operation and Jefferson Chadwick was his partner. The pair eluded my net at every turn. We should’ve nabbed them when the mutiny sprang its trap but something spooked Chadwick. With Patrick dead we’re still hoping to get Chadwick.”
“Let’s compare notes on the murder,” Kayla said.
“Drat. I left my notes in my other pocket,” he said patting imaginary pockets in his suit. He brushed the sand from his legs as Kayla frowned. “Sorry. I didn’t want to get yanked back into the real world so soon.”
He smoothed the sand in front of him, picked up a stick, and started to draw columns. “I’ve focused on ships in Barbados last Friday when the janitor died and in Dominica on Wednesday, the day of the murder. I’ve got a list of the crew members on those ships who had a motive to kill Patrick.”
He wrote the titles Barbados, Dominica, and Motive at the top of each column.
Kayla pulled the tie from her ponytail and shook her wet hair free. “What ships were in Barbados?”
“Two Constellation ships were in port, the Aurora and the Polaris. However, the Aurora and the Persius were the two ships docked in Dominica on Wednesday, the day of the murder.”
Kayla rolled onto her knees and leaned over the sand chart. “When crew members miss their ship they take a flight to the next port.”
Steven nodded. “I’ve checked that angle—no luck.”
“How about a fast boat?” Kayla asked. “I saw Patrick riding in a cigarette boat in St. Thomas.”
“Good point. He drew a map of circles in the sand. St. Lucia and Grenada are both near Barbados. Guadeloupe is Dominica’s neighbor to the north and Martinique lies to the south.” He chewed on his lip. “I wonder how many of our suspects were close enough to travel on those days. I need to check ferries and boat rentals.”
Steven struggled to his feet in the soft sand and ran toward the water. “Come on! You may be on to something,” he shouted before diving into the crashing surf and swimming to the boat.
“I wish he’d make up his mind,” Kayla grumbled. She twisted her hair into a haphazard ponytail and followed him into the water. After swimming the short distance to the boat, Kayla heaved her body over the side. Studying the ships’ schedule, Steven was too busy to notice her ungainly flop into the boat.
His eyes twinkled as he waved wet sheets at Kayla. “You’ve opened up the possibilities, lass. The Andromeda was in Barbados on Thursday! Our favorite bad guy Jefferson Chadwick was close enough to steal the toxin. If he stayed the night in Barbados, he could ferry to Martinique and board the Andromeda the next day. “We saw him arguing with Patrick on Tuesday in St. Martin. Perhaps he planted the poisoned knife but Patrick failed to use it until Wednesday. We’d be in luck if Chadwick turned out to be the killer.”
Kayla rubbed a fluffy towel over her wet skin. “How can we find out if he stayed in Barbados?”
“Research, my dear, plenty of research.” He glanced at his watch and nodded. “I’ll call my friend at the Barbados Port Authority. He might get back to me before I sail on the Antares tonight.”
“Time out!” Kayla said, hitting the palm of her right hand against the upright fingers of her left hand. “We haven’t discussed other suspects. Don’t run off without sharing all your information. Who else has a motive?”
Steven handed his leather notebook to Kayla. Suspects were in the first column on the open page with checkmarks under the headings Steven had outlined in the sand. There were too many blanks on the list to suit Kayla.
She read the names aloud, “Jefferson Chadwick, Natalia Baliskov, Bryanne Davidson, Garrison Caldwell, Jaquie Ludlow, and Kayla Sanders. Why is my name still on your list?”
He grinned. “A list is a list.”
“I recognize the other names, but who’s Garrison Caldwell?”
“He’s Bryanne’s half brother, a possible accomplice.”
“Natalia gave me another name, Erin McFarland. She’s a dancer on the Polaris who claims Patrick killed her family in an IRA bombing.”
Steven added the name to his list. “The Polaris was docked in Barbados on Friday. If Erin took the ferry from Martinique to Dominica on Wednesday, she’s a prime suspect.” Steven double-clicked his pen eagerly.
Kayla volunteered, “I can’t believe Bryanne killed Patrick.”
Steven shook his head. “I’ve been in touch with her aunt’s lawyer. Jillian wrote a new will naming Patrick as the trustee for a large endowment to some Irish school.”
“St. Bertram’s school.” Kayla clenched her teeth. “Patrick used the school as part of his fund-raising ploy.”
“Quite so. Witnesses heard Garrison Caldwell threaten Patrick. If their inheritance was jeopardized, they both had a motive to kill him.”
Kayla groaned. “Motive and opportunity, so maybe I’m not such a good judge of character.”
Steven shrugged. “Bryanne arranged for Jillian to observe Patrick trying to swindle Emily Schultz during the mutiny. If the plan worked, Jillian would rewrite her will and Bryanne’s motive evaporated.”
“It worked! I doubt Jillian retained Patrick as a trustee after the scene I witnessed. I’d like to talk to Garrison.”
“Good. He works on the Polaris. Both ships dock in Barbados tomorrow, so you should interview Erin and Garrison.”
Steven made a note in his book. “We don’t have much on Jaquie Ludlow. She worked as a purser on the Aurora until Patrick sucked her into a torrid affair. After he jilted her, Jaquie transferred to the Andromeda and currently works as Second Purser under Chadwick.”
Kayla agreed, “She’s in line for a promotion to Chief Purser. Revenge and financial gain are good motives. You check on Chadwick and Ludlow.”
Steven nodded and made another note in his book.
Kayla frowned. “How did the killer know about frog toxin and where to get it? That’s not common knowledge. Don’t you think we should add another column to your chart?”
“Joining forces with you was a brilliant idea.” Steven marked PDF as a new column heading. “Nat
alia is the first suspect who qualifies. Interpol’s got loads of data on poisons, so I’ll go to our office in Castries and start working.” Steven vibrated with energy.
Kayla gazed at the perfect half-moon beach. “It’s a shame to leave this cove.”
He said, “I’m glad you like it.”
Kayla’s hair dried in the wind as the boat raced over stunning blue water. Until she worked in the tropics, Kayla never appreciated the various hues of blue. This ocean contained them all—a fantastic assortment of shades from dark cobalt in deep water to light greenish-blue over shallow coral. Tropical fish added vibrant neon shades that flickered below the surface, like a great artist sprinkling color to enhance a dull canvas. Color was a Poison Dart Frog’s warning to predators. Which of the suspects knew enough about that lethal beauty to kill?
As Steven helped Kayla out of the boat, his hands caressed her skin and he brushed a kiss over her lips. “Promise you’ll be careful and call if you need me,” he said, pressing a business card into her palm.
“I’m always careful,” she responded with confidence, but walking toward the ship a sense of danger threatened her confidence. “Careful! I’m the least careful person I know,” she murmured and watched Steven race away in his speedboat. “You be careful, too.”
Back in the cabin, she found Shannon’s clothes strewn across the small room—strange for her tidy friend.
“What’s going on?” Kayla asked.
Shannon’s eyes glowed. “The mutiny worked. Emily appointed two women as Chief Pursers—Jaquie Ludlow and me.” Shannon moved a pile of clothes, plopped onto her bed, and folded her long legs into a cross-legged position. “Next week I join the Polaris after doing a hand-over here.”
Kayla sat on a cleared corner of the bed. “How’d you find out?”
“Emily gave me the good news before flying out today.” Shannon blushed. “I felt so embarrassed—she knew about the mutiny long before it happened.”
“Was she upset?”
Shannon stacked folded clothes into neat piles. “No. She wanted to see how well we organized the operation. If we cleared out the bad apples CCL couldn’t be sued for wrongful termination.”
Kayla remembered Emily’s lip-reading and her cool demeanor under pressure. “I think Emily knows everything about her business, but why transfer you to the Polaris?”
“She said I’ve done an excellent job filling Patrick’s shoes, but she wants me to command a new staff, you know, establish my authority from day one. She’s right. I already feel awkward being the boss to people who served with me as an equal.”
“Who takes over on the Aurora?”
“Gunther Mannfried, a seasoned Chief Purser working on the Persius, is quite popular with his staff. Jaquie will transfer to the Persius.”
Kayla gestured at the room. “How can I help?”
Shannon laughed. “I need to buy new clothes for the job and Emily gave me a budget.” She tossed a notepad to Kayla. “Help me weed through this mess and write a list.”
Within thirty minutes the two girls restored order to the room. They ruthlessly tossed discards into a box and listed deficiencies on their notepad and hung up acceptable clothes.
“That’s better,” Shannon said as she examined the list. “I’ll buy most things in St. Thomas and Emily already ordered new blazers.”
Kayla lounged on the bed, her head propped on her hand. “I’m proud of you, Shannon. You developed a plan to accomplish your goal and it worked.”
“The common sense approach wouldn’t work for you, Kayla.” Shannon sprawled across the bed, looking like a floppy rag doll. “Of course you were fighting old fogies who resisted change and now we’ve got a savvy boss in Emily. We lucked out—unless the police nab us for killing Patrick.” She rolled onto her belly and leaned her chin onto her palms. “How’s it going? Will we be in handcuffs by week’s end?”
Kayla heard worry in Shannon’s joking tone.
“We’re both off the hook. I wasn’t near Barbados when the poison was stolen, and everyone verified you worked like a slave while Patrick skipped out for the whole day. We’ve got problems with a few other people.”
Shannon’s eyes widened. “We?”
“Steven and I are working together to solve the murder.”
Shannon gazed at Kayla in alarm. “If we’re both exonerated, you’ve got to stop! This could get dangerous and you might get hurt!”
Alarmed by her friend’s fear, Kayla tried to make her voice sound convincing. “No! We’re gathering background information and let the police handle the dangerous stuff. You know, high-speed car chases, making the arrest.”
Tears filled Shannon’s wide eyes. “I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you. I got you into this.”
“I’ll be fine. Just don’t tell anyone what we’re doing. We don’t know who is involved, even the most innocent comment could be disastrous. Natalia knew about Poison Dart Frog toxin and she knew all about the mutiny.”
Shannon sighed. “Natalia pays for any information about Patrick. You don’t suppose she—”
Kayla shrugged. “I don’t think she’s involved with his murder. She’s hunting down a family heirloom and Patrick’s death put a damper on arrangements she had to nail him.”
Shannon looked worried. “You sure? Maybe Natalia discovered that Patrick sold the jewelry and took revenge for her loss!”
“Good point.” Kayla’s stomach churned. She accepted Natalia’s explanation at face value but was she telling the truth? Would Natalia kill over losing a piece of jewelry? She decided to look into Natalia’s story.
Kayla asked, “Do you know a dancer named Erin McFarland?”
“Yes. She trades places with other dancers when they need a day off.” Shannon’s voice rose in excitement. “In fact I saw Erin onboard the Aurora the day Patrick died! Do you suppose she was involved with his murder?”
Kayla chewed on her thumbnail. “I honestly don’t know who killed him.”
Trying to fall asleep that night, Kayla reviewed the list of suspects. She wanted to believe Natalia and Bryanne but still had her doubts. How could she separate truth from convincing lies? In books a detective kept digging to confirm or reject a suspect’s story. Kayla must organize facts and gather enough information to unravel the truth. She was good at both.
What were the facts about Patrick? Perhaps Erin McFarland would reveal what happened to change him during that fateful trip to Ireland. Was he a terrorist or a simple thief? The questions about Patrick’s personality change were as disturbing as his murder.
Still unable to sleep, Kayla thought about Steven. When she first met Steven, she cast him as Pierce Brosnan but she was wrong. Although handsome and sexy, Steven’s personality appealed to her more than his good looks. She imagined him as a scrappy kid arrested by a kindly bobby facing his tearful mother. It tugged at her heart. She wasn’t surprised Steven chose the police force in lieu of a lucrative career performing magic. Through the kindness of a sympathetic policeman, he escaped life as a criminal and gained a strong sense of justice.
Kayla decided that Steven was more like Remington Steele, the character Pierce Brosnan first played on television, a quirky Brit with a dodgy past who tried to stay on the right side of the law. Although she believed Steven was honest, she prayed that her judgment was correct. She couldn’t afford another broken heart.
Chapter 7 ~ Saturday — Barbados
The Deep Water Harbor in Barbados was large enough to accommodate several cruise ships at the dock on the same day. By taking care of the needs of passengers in comfort, the Port Authority building was designed to attract more cruise business to the island. When Kayla disembarked, a pleasant young black man approached her.
“Miss Sanders?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Abel Preston.” He offered her a basketball player’s hand with fingers long enough to engulf hers. Tall and lanky he resembled Michael Jordan dressed in a crisp white short-sleeved unif
orm shirt with gold shoulder epaulets, knee-length shorts, and a stiff white military hat shading chocolate-colored eyes.
“Steven Young called. He asked me to brief you about a recent spot of trouble.” His British accent was tainted by a Caribbean lilt, and his broad smile and easygoing attitude further marked him as a native. He sauntered down the tarmac with long strides and a rhythmic sway.
“How thoughtful of Steven,” she said, following him into the building.
“Oh he’s always thoughtful where pretty ladies are concerned.” Abel grinned, and his gleaming white teeth contrasted against his dark skin.
Kayla smiled. “It sounds like you know Steven well.”
“Like a brother. Mind you, I’d not trust my sister with him.”
“Why not?”
His eyes twinkled. “My sister would eat him for lunch, that white boy would be no match for a sister of mine.” He laughed and clapped his hands. “Caught you out! You should of seen the look on your face, so jealous! Wait till I tell Steven.”
She scowled. “Tell him that and die a slow painful death, Mr. Preston.”
“Call me Abel. Any friend of Steven’s as the old saying goes.” He led her into the Port Authority office and pointed at a metal cabinet. “The thief broke into this key box, stole the key to the quarantined area, and then opened the door with our own key.”
“Do you know the thief was a man?”
“Of course.” Abel tossed his hat onto a peg and gestured for her to sit. He picked up a folder and handed it to her. “A man in a white service jacket was seen entering our office.”
“How’d he break into the cabinet?”
Abel rolled his large brown eyes. “He slipped a blade in and popped the door open easy as you please. It’s a good job he wasn’t after stealing state secrets.”
The metal door to the key box looked bent and scratched. “Who knew about the key box and the frogs?” Kayla asked.
“Plenty of people knew about the box, but the frogs were kept a secret to avoid a public outcry. Lots of good it did us in the end. Inadequate security cost a good man his life.” Abel’s voice softened and he wiped a damp eye with long fingers. “We all knew each other ’round here. Hubert was a friend and his family counts on us to catch the thief! I hope Steve can help.” A loud clang from the phone interrupted any further conversation.
