Suddenly, Miles raised his head, pointed his nose to the sky, and bellowed. Some show I watched once said that house cats don’t roar. Wrong! This utterance was no meow. As was often the case, that roar was an alert sent out seconds before Jack’s arrival. I attribute it to Miles’ keen sense of hearing, but who knows?
The door handle wiggled, and then the door sprang open. There, in all his glory, stood my missing husband. A Panama hat sat jauntily on his head above a pair of dark glasses that gave him the air of a movie star. Hollywood or not, he was my leading man, and I felt a familiar snap, crackle, pop sensation ripple through me.
“Hello, Doll,” he said in a mock detective voice. The love we shared for old film noir detective movies was almost as great as the enjoyment we got from Jazz classics.
“I see you’re wearing the anniversary gifts I set out for you last night. Where have you been? Not out detecting, I hope, while your new wife wakes up to an empty suite.” I wanted to scold him, but the smile on his handsome face melted my resolve.
He was loaded down with packages. I caught a hint of fresh-baked pastry. Coffee, too. From one arm hung a lei of fresh orchids. I rushed to help him unload those packages. By the time, I reached him he had managed to set them down on a bar near the door. Those empty arms were around me in an instant.
“The only mystery I’m interested in solving is the mystery of what makes you so gorgeous even before you comb your hair or put on any makeup.” The kiss that went with that bit of blarney rattled me to my toes.
Once he released me from that embrace, I tugged the front of his hat down. He took that hat off and sailed it across the room to a chair in the corner. Two cats flew after it, jumping up in that chair to inspect it. Then Jack took off the shades and tucked them into a pocket of his colorful aloha shirt.
“Didn’t you find my poetic love note?” He asked as he placed that garland of flowers around my neck. “For my bride of one whole week.”
“Fresh cut flowers on a cruise ship at sea. Mad Max Marley does have a knack for making dreams come true, doesn’t he?”
“The man is a class act—when he’s not in mad-hatter mode.”
“Where did you leave the note?” I asked.
“On the coffee table under your anniversary gift. See?” We both looked at the table. “Well, what do you think about that? We’ve been robbed!”
“The purrfect crime, no doubt,” I said, pointing to a small furry mouse lying on that table.
“Uh oh. Klepto-Kitty’s been at it again. She looked so innocent with those big, baby blues and that beguiling siren song of hers. I swear I had no idea she was a cat burglar.”
“Ella, did you purr-loin my husband’s love note?” The adorable kitten blinked at me and made the sweet sounds to which Jack had referred. Part purr and part meow, they were sweetly charming. She flopped over on her side, and then rolled over onto her back.
“Paws up! I’d say that’s a confession, my love. We’ll have to add shiny objects to the list of her temptations.” Ella’s life of crime had started with my warm, wooly socks. One by one, they had begun to disappear. Then one evening I caught her running down the hall with my knitted scarf trailing behind her as she straddled it awkwardly. From there she had moved onto ribbons and bows, delighting in removing them from wedding presents that arrived in the mail.
“Well, it can’t have gone far. I don’t have nearly as much turf to cover as I do at home to find her secret hideaways. I’m dying for coffee, but I want my anniversary present. I like shiny objects, too.” I dashed over to the coffee table and did a careful search of the area around it. When I got down on my knees to peer under the table and furniture, I had help. Two cats in a slightly spooked mode, peered under the furniture as though something might jump out at them any minute.
“Miles, if you know where Mommy’s pretty present is, you’d better tell me.”
“Yes, an accessory to the theft of an accessory. That will go down in the annals of feline crime.” Jack wore a big smile as he poured coffee from a jug into mugs. The aroma was intoxicating.
“Aha,” I said reaching under a club chair to retrieve Jack’s note. When I sat up to read it, Jack was smiling as he bit into a delicious looking tart. Le Petite Patisserie has the most scrumptious pâte sablée with fillings that blissfully celebrate the flavors of French Polynesia. Tahitian vanilla, coconut, as well as more exotic tropical fruit flavors. An unrepentant chocoholic, my favorite is filled with chocolate ganache topped with a thin layer of passion fruit Bavarian cream, then drizzled with a tangy passion fruit syrup. Jack dangled the box of pastries.
“I have to read my love note first, darling.” I read it aloud.
“Roses are red; violets are blue. Gone for sweets and coffee, too. Here’s a little bauble as a token of my affection. A beautiful pearl, that’s no match for your perfection. Your grateful and loving husband of one full week.”
“You have to admit. It started out well. Sort of lost the rhythm and rhyme after that.”
“It’s lovely, Jack.” I stood up and went to plant a kiss on that sweet man’s lips. “You did not buy me that black pearl and diamond pendant, did you?”
“I did. I caught that sparkle in your eye when you saw it. I can’t resist that any more than I can withstand the siren song of little miss sticky paws over there.”
“It was way too expensive, Jack.”
“I’m flush, now that your boss has picked up the tab for our honeymoon.”
“I should say it’s the thought that counts, but that pendant is a beauty. I’m going to find it and give Ella back that furry mouse she left behind as a clue to her villainy. Wish me luck,” I took several sips of coffee and left for our bedroom. I had learned a few things about where Ella hid her booty.
“Happy hunting. While we’re on the subject of stolen jewelry you probably won’t be surprised to hear that a passenger has reported another theft.”
“Aha! So, you did do a little detecting while you were out and about,” I hollered over my shoulder as I stepped into our bedroom. Jack murmured something in reply, but by then I was in the closet moving suitcases and checking the pockets that weren’t zippered shut.
“Ta-da!” I called out a few minutes later. I went bounding back into the sitting room dangling that trophy. “They ought to put me to work finding that jewel thief. I’d have the case solved like that!” I snapped my fingers. Then I did a little dance of triumph, borrowing a couple moves from the dancers that had entertained us the night before. The smirk on Jack’s face fled when I added a beguiling wifely smile to my routine
“Put that pearl in here for safe keeping,” Jack said handing me the little black box in which he had bought that pendant. I did as he asked. Then Jack pulled me to him and kissed me like a one-week-husband ought to kiss a one-week-wife. I laughed as he snuffled my hair.
“This marriage has turned out to be one of my brightest ideas ever, don’t you agree?” I ran my hand along the side of his face. Jack clutched it in his, placing a light kiss on my palm.
“Your idea? As I recall, I’m the one who proposed. I would have done it that first night at dinner or the next day except I was afraid it would spook you. Not to mention you were still on the list of suspects in a murder investigation. It’s hardly proper police procedure to propose marriage to a suspect.”
“I’m free and clear now, copper. What are you going to do about it?” Miles interrupted that inquiry with a plaintive cry. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“What on earth, Miles?”
That’s when the screams began. Followed by a splash.
2 Oscar! Oscar! Oscar!
The screaming came in bursts followed by shouts of “man overboard,” just like in a movie. Jack and I ran for the veranda as soon as we heard that splash. An eerie silence hovered in the wake of those screams.
“I don’t see anything, do you, Jack?” Our cabin was aft, with our large veranda affording us an excellent view of the ocean on this side of the
ship. Of course, we were moving through the water at a steady clip, so it was hard to say where we ought to be looking for anyone who had fallen overboard.
“Not a thing. Maybe it’s a false alarm,” Jack said. Before I could respond, a call went out over the loudspeaker.
OSCAR! OSCAR! OSCAR!
“No false alarm, Georgie—that’s the call to muster the crew.”
Jack and I both scanned the ocean for any sign of a person floundering in the water that rippled as our ship passed through it. It was a long way down from our location on one of the upper decks. Above us was the pool deck. At this end of the ship, that area was devoted to adults only. Next to that was a fitness facility with a running track open to views of the surrounding ocean. I was pleasantly surprised that we weren’t disturbed by noise from the busy areas above us.
“I can’t imagine how someone fell overboard, can you? The rails are high, and there are warnings not to climb or sit on them even here in the adult section of the ship."
"It does happen, despite all the warnings. A little early in the morning for a mishap by someone who's had too much to drink."
"Unless the party started last night and it's still going. Is the ship slowing?" I asked.
“Yes. We’ve probably already moved a mile or more past the point where we were when we heard that first scream. The search has begun already. See?” Jack nodded in the direction of a small launch that had swept into view.
OSCAR! OSCAR! OSCAR! I shuddered as that call went out again.
“Why run alongside the ship, Jack, since we’ve moved past the point where the incident occurred?”
“I presume they have launches heading away from the ship, too. No doubt, toward some marker or buoy, dropped at the location where the person went overboard. Maybe they’re trying to get a better understanding of where or how someone fell into the water based on the report they got from the witness. Jumped, more likely. As you pointed out, these ships are built to avoid accidents.”
“Suicide? How awful!” I exclaimed.
“I suppose it’s also possible they’re checking to make sure the jumper didn’t get snagged on something jutting out at the water line. Don’t ask me what that could be. I think it’s more likely that the force of the water around the ship would push away a man overboard.”
“Hitting the water from even a couple of stories up has to be dangerous if not deadly. I wonder what deck that passenger was on when he fell.”
“It’s like hitting concrete if you fall from fifty feet up, Georgie.”
“Oh, no. That's horrible.”
“At least the water’s not cold. If the man overboard survived the fall, there’s a better chance for rescue. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds to drown, though, if he was unconscious when he hit the water. Not much longer than that to disappear underwater after drowning. The ship is stopping, so I guess that means they intend to drop anchor here or circle back around.” A knock on our door gave me a jolt as I considered what Jack was saying about a ship this size changing course.
“Who is it?” Jack hollered as he dashed to the door.
“Bill Tate, Jack. I need to speak to you. It’s urgent.”
“That’s the head of security, Georgie. I introduced you to him, remember?” I nodded, smoothing my hair down as Jack opened the door. I was still wearing my silk robe and slippers. After standing on my head in the closet searching for my missing anniversary gift, I wouldn’t be a bit shocked if my hair was a fright. In all the excitement, I hadn’t given a moment’s notice to my appearance.
“Come on in, Bill.” Jack said, inviting him in and shutting the door behind him as soon as he had stepped in out of the corridor.
“Hello, Georgie.”
“Nice to see you again, Bill,” I said. I didn’t exactly mean that, but he had such a worried expression on his face, I felt like I ought to be polite. I was curious about his visit at such an odd moment. I wasn’t the only one. Our two Siamese cats were on point, sniffing his shoes, then working their way up to the cuffs of his pants. I was about to shoo them away when Bill reached down and patted Miles. Ella, more skittish, backed away until Bill stood up again.
“We’ve got a situation on our hands, Jack.”
“Yes, we’ve figured that out. A passenger overboard.”
“Not just that, but a murder.”
I gasped before I could stop myself. “Murder?”
“I’m afraid so. The woman who let out those alarming screams is a passenger and a witness. Wendy Cutler claims three men were fighting or wrestling over something a few decks below her. Then one went overboard, another dropped to the ground, and a third took off. When we got to the location, we found a man dead, stabbed more than once—his throat cut. The only good news about all this is that we got to the scene quickly before anyone could disturb it. It’s plenty disturbing already.”
“Can you keep passengers away from there?”
“Yes. We’ve ‘tented’ it like we do when there's unsightly damage to a spot on board before we can dock for repairs. It’s in an out of the way section of Deck 6 where there’s not much foot traffic. I have a security associate posted in case someone gets curious. Passengers have started to gather on the top deck with questions about the shouts and the alert that went out after that.”
“That passenger was on the ball.”
“Our MOB—an automated Man Overboard Detection System would have kicked in even without a witness. It’s state of the art with motion sensors and thermal detection designed to alert the ship’s bridge, stop the ship, and initiate search and rescue protocols in a situation like this one. You’re right about her being on the ball, though. She called for a nearby crew member even before that guy went over the rails when she saw those men fighting, then hollered about the man overboard. Our staff person, David Engels, arrived just as he was falling and saw the passenger enter the water. He was able to corroborate the ship’s data with his own. We’re no longer getting a thermal reading, though—that’s not good.”
“Okay, so what can we do for you, Bill?”
“The Captain called headquarters to report the incident. Ari’i nui, as they say around here, is on his way. The Big Chief himself got in on it. He’s on his way as we speak.”
“Big Chief? You don’t mean Max Marley, do you?” I felt another wave of shock wash over me as I asked that question. I’m not sure why I should have felt that way. Max takes every major setback in his company personally. The fact that Jack and I were on the ship probably made that an even bigger issue for him. Max had not only insisted on paying for our honeymoon but had stepped in for my deceased father and escorted me down the aisle at my wedding.
"Yes. Max Marley is on his way," Bill replied.
"You can’t mean that literally, given his schedule. Besides, the Fantasy of the Sea won’t be back in Tahiti until the day after tomorrow—mid-morning at the earliest, right?” Jack asked.
“That’s our plan—to conduct a search and rescue operation, but keep to our scheduled arrival time back in Papeete. From what Captain Andrews tells me, the company's founder is planning to leave as soon as he can and intends to be in Tahiti for our return. And, Max Marley expects a full accounting of what’s gone on here.”
“That sounds like Max,” I muttered. “He can’t possibly believe all this can be wrapped up by then, can he?”
“I don’t know him personally, but I have heard stories about his expectations as well as what happens when his employees don't meet them. That brings me to the reason I’m here, Jack. He suggested that I get in touch with you, right away. As you can imagine, we don’t have much of a track record when it comes to dealing with a homicide. We also don’t have much time before all of this might get much more complicated. Technically, we’re in international waters and outside the territorial limit for the authorities in French Polynesia to get involved. Not that there’s a reason to engage them yet. Captain Andrews is officially overseeing the search and rescue operation. He says we’re sta
ying put the rest of the day. Overnight, too, if necessary. Tomorrow morning, though, we’ll have to make a brief stop in Bora Bora. Then we’ll head back to Papeete so you and other passengers can catch your return flights as planned on Day 10 of our cruise.”
“This is a U.S.-owned ship and one of the few cruise lines that fly the U.S. flag. That means U.S. authorities have jurisdiction, right?” I asked.
“Yes, but that will most likely mean the FBI, Georgie,” Jack offered. “Of course, it could be more complicated than that if the murder victim or his murderer aren't U.S. citizens.”
“The dead man had a U.S. driver’s license on him with a Texas address. The name on it is the same as the one on his shipboard guest I.D.—Jake Nugent. A check of his credit cards, and a review of his personal profile on record with the Marvelous Marley World Cruise line, also verify he's a U.S. citizen. I've already notified the FBI.”
“What about the passenger overboard?”
“That’s a bit odd. No one has reported a missing person. Staff members are checking with all passengers who have gathered on the upper deck. They’re also making the rounds, going cabin by cabin to account for the whereabouts of everyone on the passenger manifest. We’re doing the same for staff members and the crew. That way we hope to identify the passenger that’s gone overboard even if he was traveling alone. If we don’t spot him in the water, that is. Drowning victims sink fast, though.” Bill Tate was clearly distressed and gave me an anxious glance as he spoke those last few words.
"That's what Jack told me, Bill. I know this must be upsetting for you. I'm sorry."
"Thanks," he said. "I should prepare myself for this to get worse before it gets better with one man dead and another missing. Our eyewitness claims that the two men fighting with him pushed the man who went overboard up and over the rails. If the man has drowned, that’s two murders."
Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Box Set Page 39
