by Diane Rapp
Chadwick staggered from the blow.
Steven and Jerry charged from opposite sides and wrestled him to the ground. Jerry clamped Chadwick’s wrists into handcuffs and said, “She’s a bloody scrapper, that one.”
“Hold your bloody tongue, mate! That’s my girl!” Steven jerked Chadwick to his feet as Jerry brushed dirt from his pants and grinned.
“Be careful, boy. Argue with her and you’ll lose a few teeth. Nice to meet you again, Kayla.”
She frowned. “In Grenada you claimed to be a retired hotelier!”
Jerry nodded. “It’s true. I retired from hotel management and joined the inter-island police force. Steven asked me to keep an eye on you in Grenada. I muffed that one, but we did better today.”
Steven swept Kayla into his arms. Her body trembled as she buried her face in his chest. “I’m sorry! I almost helped him get away,” Kayla sobbed. “I felt so afraid!”
He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair. “It’s okay, darling. You knocked him flat! I don’t think he’s going anywhere except to the dock. What’s in your bag that packs such a wallop?”
She waved a copy of her book. “I’ve got three in the bag. You never know when people will want to buy one.”
Jerry said, “Sold! I could use an extra weapon.” He winked at Kayla and picked up Chadwick’s backpack. “We got the whole exchange on video and here’s the evidence.” He pulled out a cache of plastic white packets.
“You’d think he’d pick a better location to exchange the stuff.” Steven gave Kayla a squeeze and explained, “This spot has no back door.”
Jerry laughed. “Not too bright when he’s working on his own. We’ve got him cold.”
Steven stepped forward. “Give me a minute to talk with him, Jerry. I have a murder to solve.”
Chadwick glared at Steven. “I always knew you were a copper, the way you skulk around! You can’t pin Patrick’s murder on me! I had nothing to do with it!”
Steven said, “You threatened to kill my girl! I have a hard time believing you didn’t murder Patrick.”
“I’ve got an alibi!” Chadwick spouted. “I picked up a consignment of drugs on Antigua last Wednesday, nowhere near your murder!”
Jerry said, “Give us details and we’ll check it out. If you’re lying, we’ll hang your bloody carcass.”
“I’m not lying! Going down for drugs is one thing, murder’s another. Patrick was scum. He’d do anything for a little dosh, but I didn’t kill him. This was my ticket to the big score. See what a mess I’m in? The first drop I plan and I get nailed,” he groaned. “Patrick would never set up an exchange like this! Sure. I’ll give you the whole lot, names, dates, and times. But you need to give me protection! Those blokes will snuff me in a minute flat.”
“Did they kill Patrick?” Kayla asked.
Chadwick squinted into the sun, blood trickling from his nose. He frowned at Steven. “No one on our side snuffed Patrick! The big guys are furious. Patrick made them money, so they’ve put out the word, offered a hundred thousand pounds for the bloke who killed their golden boy. I’d be careful, copper! You might be lookin’ down a gun barrel right soon.”
Jerry shoved Chadwick toward the stairs. “Get started walking, mate,” he said with an apologetic glance at Steven. “Sorry.”
Kayla frowned. “What does he mean?”
“He’d sell his brother for a hundred thousand pounds. If he could implicate a policeman, he’d try it straight away. Our murderer is still out there.”
Steven wrapped Kayla in his arms. They watched Jerry leave with Chadwick in tow. “You gave me an enormous fright, luv. Next time you’ll bloody well wait for me on the ship.”
“With a killer on the loose, I doubt I’d be safe on the ship.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll take my chances with you at my side, mate.”
“So who’s going to protect me? You’re lethal with that bag. You nearly knocked him out.”
She grinned. “You better believe it! That jerk made me lose my favorite baseball cap! It’s gone now.”
Steven glanced over the parapet at the rocks. “We’ve always got my brelly. Remember, it doubles as a sword.”
Kayla ambled down the stairway. “A weapon’s no good sitting in the car.”
Steven hurried to keep pace. “I’ll make a list of important things to take when I’m confronting a killer.”
She grinned. “Will I be at the top?”
“Always.” He tugged her close and gave her a lingering kiss. “You’re my secret weapon with a supply of guide books in your bag.”
On the Andromeda Kayla and Steven found the staff in turmoil. Although it was general knowledge Chadwick sold drugs, everyone thought he was a small-time operator. Chadwick’s arrest threw the office into chaos until Jaquie Ludlow entered.
Jaquie stood barely five feet tall with honey-colored hair and hazel eyes. Kayla cast her as a young Debbie Reynolds with a French accent. Despite her unimposing appearance, Jaquie possessed a dynamic personality, rarely aggressive or domineering, but quietly assertive and self-assured.
Arriving at the Purser’s Office Jaquie issued orders in a compelling low voice and controlled the agitated. She modified the schedule with swift proficiency and set everyone to work. When Kayla volunteered to help, Jaquie agreed. She asked Kayla to prepare port papers and customs reports, a job Kayla remembered only too well.
Observing Jaquie’s efficiency, Kayla wondered how a man like Patrick captivated a woman of her forceful character. Could revenge include his murder? As though she were answering Kayla’s mental question, Jaquie raised her eyes from the paperwork. “You want to ask me a few questions, n’est pas?” Jaquie’s English was tainted by a charming French accent.
Surprised, Kayla cleared her throat. “We’re trying to find out who killed Patrick.” Kayla hesitated, wondering why she was asking anything of Jaquie.
“I had as good a motive as anyone,” Jaquie said. “Patrick abused my trust and I felt hurt, humiliated. I hated him, yes, but not enough to kill.” Her smile looked nervous. “I’m a coward and avoid trouble. I did not wish to live with my embarrassment, so I transferred to another ship. C’est la vie. It was the end of the story, as you say.”
“Did you know about the mutiny plan?” Kayla asked.
Jaquie sipped coffee from a large mug labeled “Boss.” For an instant she looked vulnerable, like a wild animal ready to flee. “Yes, I helped develop a plan to trap Chadwick with drugs. We failed on our first attempt. I’m glad you and Steven were more successful today. Congratulations.” When she met Kayla’s gaze, an expression of confidence replaced the fleeting vulnerability.
Kayla flinched under the direct stare of the small woman. “We fell into a police stakeout and got lucky. I almost fouled up the entire operation.”
Jaquie laughed and the melodic sound of her voice set Kayla at ease. “Does it matter? In the end he got caught and the police arrested him.” She swirled the coffee inside her mug. Her thick eyelashes looked like feathers against creamy skin as she stared into the cup. “These are not the questions you came to ask, n’est pas?”
Kayla blinked. “Yes, we want to know if you had an opportunity to kill Patrick. Your promotion gives you motive.”
“If I would kill to gain a promotion, the best target would be Jefferson Chadwick, don’t you think?” Jaquie’s lips curled into a demure smile. “As Patrick’s partner in crime, Chadwick had more reason to kill than I did.”
“Good point. Was Chadwick off the ship on the day of the murder?”
“Let me see, last Wednesday?” She tapped on her computer keyboard and frowned. “We were docked in Antigua. He was on duty, logged in at 9:00 a.m., logged out at 1:00 p.m. for lunch then back at 3:00 p.m. He left the ship for two hours, hardly enough time to travel to Dominica and kill Patrick.”
Sighing, Kayla leaned back in her chair. “And you?”
The feathery lashes fluttered but Jaquie confidently tilted her chin. “On Wednesday I took the entir
e day off. I’m afraid I squandered my time sightseeing. I visited Lord Nelson’s Dockyard in the morning and spent the afternoon at the beach.”
Jaquie drummed her fingernails against her coffee mug. “Air service from Antigua is good. I had sufficient time for a round trip flight to Dominica, but look at my passport. There are no customs stamps on that day. The authorities are very strict about stamping passports at the airport.” She typed on the keyboard. Leaning back so Kayla could see the screen, she said, “I logged back in at 6:00 p.m.”
Kayla glanced at the computer screen and the passport. Jaquie was French-Canadian which explained her perfect English and tantalizing French accent. “Do ferries run between Antigua and Dominica?”
Jaquie smiled indulgently. “A very slow ferry stops at Guadeloupe and continues on to Dominica and Martinique. I couldn’t make a round trip to Dominica in one day by ferry.”
“It would be easy to make the trip from Guadeloupe or Martinique,” Kayla said.
“Yes, but the Andromeda was docked in Antigua, and I sailed with her that night.”
Kayla jotted a few notes down. “Thanks. Your information is quite helpful.”
Jaquie gestured at the neat pile of paperwork. “You’ve been helpful here, and I feel guilty taking advantage of your desire to question me. I’m grateful for your help and won’t impose on your time any longer. Steven’s in the theater setting up his show if you wish to join him.”
Kayla stood and hesitated. “I know you had reason to hate Patrick, we both did, but his death must have been painful. I’m sorry.”
Jaquie flinched. “I despised Patrick, wishing him dead many times. When such a wish is granted . . . it’s not very satisfying. I preferred to see him ousted from his job and jailed with Chadwick. Killing him wasn’t right. You saw him die?”
Kayla nodded.
“That must have been difficult for you. I hope you uncover the killer.” Jaquie’s delicate hand touched Kayla, a tear glistening on her eyelashes.
Kayla walked to the Starlight Theater. She felt like a mouse running through a maze, banging into one dead end after another. Would she ever get to the end? In the dark theater, she sat in the back row while Steven instructed three attractive young women in the art of pick pocketing.
He said, “Don’t make any elaborate moves, simply bump into a gentleman, slide your hand into his pocket and come away with the contents. Make sure you mark each item with the seat number of the person so I can return everything during the show.”
Kayla listened for a few minutes before she approached the stage. Steven wrapped up his meeting by saying, “Work the crowd at the first show and meet me backstage just before curtain. Be careful. We don’t want anyone arrested.”
The girls cast curious glances at Kayla as they sauntered up the aisle swinging their hips like cats twitching their tails.
“So this is how you fool the masses!” Kayla teased.
Steven’s eyes filled with mischief. “An attractive young woman can pick a gentleman’s pocket right easy. He likes it when a pretty girl gets too close and if she bumps against him he ignores it. How fast do you think I’d be collared if I bumped into strange men?”
A young steward entered the theater with a package. “Steven your package arrived so I brought it straight away.”
“Super!” Steven took the parcel and handed the steward a tip large enough to make the young man grin.
Steven draped his arm across Kayla’s shoulder and guided her out of the theater. “We’ve got an important project, so let’s eat an early dinner and examine the evidence.”
The busy officer’s wardroom lacked the glitzy furnishings of the passenger dining room, but tables were laid out with white linen tablecloths, shiny silverware, and fresh flowers. The officers ate food prepared for passengers served buffet-style with specialty items available by special order. Kitchen staff and waiters proved themselves in the officer’s mess before graduating to the main dining room.
Steven introduced Kayla to his friends while everyone cracked jokes about nabbing Chadwick. The couple gravitated to an empty table after filling their plates at the buffet. While eating, Steven opened the package and they thumbed through hundreds of insincere smiles, searching for men in white jackets. Their pile of rejects grew as their enthusiasm for the project waned.
Steven checked his watch and sighed. “I’d better get into costume. Can you endure looking through these alone?”
Kayla grimaced. “I’ll do it but you owe me, mister.”
“Anything you ask, luv,” he said in a low, seductive tone. “I’ve reserved a table for you near the stage. Here’s the key to my room.”
Blushing at the perceptive expressions of nearby officers, Kayla snatched the key and scowled. “Making sure they all know the score?”
Steven arched his eyebrow. “It won’t make a difference. These riffraff would proposition the captain’s wife if she was sitting alone, but it was worth a try.” He kissed her.
She licked her lips. “Tastes good, I’ll try the chocolate mousse next time.”
“We’ll share it,” he said, sauntering out. “See you on the first row.”
Kayla scanned through pictures and sipped coffee. Within five minutes two officers joined her.
“I thought he’d never leave you alone, lassie. I’m Colin and this here’s Frederick,” a fair-haired Scotsman announced. Short and rotund, he appeared owlish wearing large eyeglasses with black rims. “What you lookin’ for in these pics?”
Kayla rubbed her aching neck. “A man in a white service jacket, care to help?”
Colin slid into a chair and scooted close. “Sure, if it means we can enjoy the company of a beautiful woman.” He raked flaxen hair with stubby fingers.
Frederick huffed. “Stuff it, Colin! Steve’s a friend o’ yours, too!” He bobbed his head apologetically, and his longish black hair dangled into ebony-colored eyes. Frederick folded a long lanky body into the tubular steel chair and extended a hand twice the size of Kayla’s. “We’ll be happy to help until our shift, Kayla. Steve’s done naught but talk about you today. He’d flay us alive if we put the moves on you.” Frederick cast a challenging glare at Colin.
Red crept down Colin’s fair-skinned face from his pale forehead down to his thick neck. “Coo. You canna take a bloody joke, Freddie. He’s too serious by half. So how can we help you, lassie?”
She pointed at the photos. “We sort pictures into two piles. This large pile contains pictures of tourists with no white jackets in sight. This pile has pictures showing any sign of a man wearing a white jacket. It’s simple.”
“Looks like.” Colin’s blue eyes gleamed as he grabbed a picture of a sunburned couple squinting at the camera with the sleeve of a white jacket on the edge of the frame. Your white jacket pile is a wee bit shy. Let’s see if we canna beef it up a bit, eh Freddie?”
Colin cheerfully started thumbing through a handful of pictures. “What a sorry lot! Them folks must’ve traveled on a special offering. You know, two-for-one if you’re ugly as sin. Look at this group. Every face in the bunch looks sour as a pomegranate.” Colin screwed up his face and puckered his lips.
Kayla and Frederick laughed.
Frederick held up a picture of an old long-faced man. “Aye. This one looks som’at like my old basset hound, Humphrey.” Freddie dropped his jaw and pulled his lower eyelids to make them droop.
Kayla cast the pair as Laurel and Hardy.
Pulling comical faces to mimic each new group of pictures, Colin and Frederick made the time evaporate. By the time their shift was due, the large pile of unexamined pictures were decreased to a small stack.
“Sorry to leave you, Kayla.” Colin grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously. “You sure you want to bunk with Steven? He’s naught but a scrawny old Englishman.”
Frederick bumped Colin aside. “Shove off, sailor. She’s my mate’s sweetheart and too bloody good for the likes a you! Don’t mind him any. He’s just a wanker, uncouth as hell bu
t harmless none the less. We’re pleased to make your acquaintance.” He gently shook her hand.
Kayla kept her tone friendly. “Thank you, Frederick.”
“Call me Freddie,” he said sheepishly. “Take care. You should know. Steven, he’s a straight arrow, a bloke who’ll treat you right, sure enough.”
“Thanks.”
Colin scrunched his eyes closed behind horn-rimmed glasses. “Coo. Now you’ve gone and done it. She’ll never give the likes of us a second look now, will she?”
“She’s got good taste!” Freddie hitched up the waistband of his pants and sidled away from the table with a sailor’s rolling gait. “She’d never ha’ gone for one of us anyway, so quit dreaming. Steven’s a lucky bloke.” Freddie saluted Kayla from the door and shoved Colin out.
Kayla gathered the piles of pictures and searched for Steven’s cabin. Sidestepping carts piled high with laundry and supplies, she felt glad the crew corridor was wide enough to navigate. Signs in four languages reminded workers to be quiet and courteous, while cheerful crew members chattered in a combination of languages, accents, and slang that stirred Kayla’s memory. She felt at home on board ship.
Would she want to work as a purser again? How would it be to travel with Steven? Coo, you’re a wee bit ahead of yourself, lassie! she thought. The man asked you to share his cabin, not his bloody life.
Steven’s cabin looked almost too tidy. Kayla’s cosmetic bag sat on the counter and her clothes already hung in the closet, including clothes she’d left with the Aurora’s laundry service. She read a note from Shannon:
Thought you might need these things. The office is shaping up and I’m looking forward to joining my new ship. Good luck with Steven and the investigation. Love, Shannon.
Kayla fingered her long batik dress but decided to wear the gold silk outfit she’d worn at the captain’s party, eager to see Steven’s reaction. It had been wasted on Patrick! She realized thoughts of Patrick held no pain, resentment, or self-doubt. Maybe discovering the cause of his character change closed the book on that chapter in her life.
The theater was nearly full as Kayla entered. She wondered how to find her reserved table when a tall buxom blonde approached her.
