Cooks, Crooks and Cruises

by A. R. Winters

  Samantha and Cece were already sitting at a bamboo table, and in front of them were colorful drinks with umbrellas and bendy straws poking out of them.

  “Nothing like an afternoon off midweek, right?” said Sam with a grin.

  I nodded back. “It is a Saturday though, by the way.”

  Sam tilted her head at me. “Really? I guess it all runs together.”

  It certainly did. We didn’t get days off during short cruises. We worked every day at sea, so there was no such thing as a weekend for us. Except for today.

  I sat down and joined them, after ordering an alcohol-free strawberry daiquiri from the same young bartender I had seen when Meredith had been there.

  Sam looked at me curiously. “What’s going to happen with Vince?”

  “I have no idea. Isn’t that your job?”

  Sam frowned. “I suppose so. Do you think he’s still going to do his events? Or do you think he’s going to rage quit in solidarity with his wife?”

  “He should be over the moon,” said Cece with a wicked grin. “He’ll finally get a chance away from the ball and chain.”

  “I guess we’ll give it a couple of hours, and then find out what he wants to do. I think Ethan’s going to keep Meredith locked up for the rest of this cruise. Unless some amazing new evidence comes to light proving she was nothing to do with what happened to Beverly and Hannah.”

  “That witch definitely did it,” said Cece. “She has no redeeming features.” She cocked her head and a mischievous grin appeared on her lips. “Well, except for one.”

  I sighed. Of course. Cece wasn’t going to let this chance slip away.

  “What’s that?” asked Sam curiously.

  Cece grinned at her.

  “Didn’t you tell her yet, sweet cheeks?” Cece reached across the table and sensuously rubbed her hand along my wrist. I snatched my arm back and put it in my lap.

  “What’s going on?” asked Sam.

  Cece sat back in her chair, giggling to herself while I glared on.

  “Adrienne has been pretending that I am her secret lover.”

  Sam, who was halfway through a sip of her drink, spat it back out. “What?” Sam stared at me wide-eyed.

  “Ignore her. She’s just messing around.”

  “Am not,” said Cece, biting her lower lip. She leaned forward. “Darling.” She fell back giggling again.

  Sam gave me a bemused look.

  “Meredith saw that Cece and I were friendly, and she got the wrong idea, that’s all.” I folded my arms. “And that’s the reason why she was nice to me, I think. You know she hates other women. She thinks they’re all after Vince. But because she thinks I’m with Cece, she took a shine to me. That’s probably why she offered me the job acting as her and Vince’s PR agent.”

  Sam was laughing now. “You and Cece?” She shook her head. “No way.”

  “Because I’m totally out of her league, right?” said Cece.

  Sam snorted. “You’re both out of each other’s leagues.”

  I was satisfied with that.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  We all turned to look. It was Dr. Ryan Wilson. We’d been so busy entertaining each other we hadn’t even noticed his approach. He stood between Cece and me, though a little closer to Cece.

  “How is she?” I asked.

  “Better. In fact, she’s much better. She’s left the sickbay already and gone straight back to her office. She seems to think the ship won’t function without her.”

  After finding her earlier, I’d been worried she was dead, but now she was back at work already. What a relief. Maybe.

  “So physically she’s fine. What about, you know, mentally?”

  “She seems a bit shaken up. She kept going on and on about attempted murder. I told her that Meredith had been taken into custody, and she seemed relieved by that. I recommended she take a couple of days off, but she wasn’t having it.”

  “Do you want to join us?” asked Cece, nodding her head toward the single empty chair.

  He turned his full attention to her, a playful smile on his lips. “I’d love to join you.” The way he said you was clearly aimed just at Cece rather than our whole group. “But I’ve got three patients coming in for check-ups later today. You know, people who caught a bit too much sun, I think.”

  “And too many of those.” He pointed at our table of colorful drinks.

  We all smiled. “These are mocktails. Not cocktails. No alcohol.”

  “I heard you guys laughing so much I figured they must’ve been stronger than that,” he said with a wink.

  “Nah,” said Cece, “we’re just three gorgeous comedians.”

  He nodded appreciatively at her, while his eyes confirmed that she was, indeed, gorgeous. I was worried a spark might hit me.

  He reached out and squeezed Cece’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing against it. “Have a great afternoon, girls. I’ll see you soon.”

  When he’d left Sam and I both stared at Cece. “Well?”

  She leaned back. “Well what?”

  “When are you two going to—”

  “Probably late one night after a few too many drinks. And then maybe again in the morning, and—”

  My eyebrows shot up in mock shock. “I meant when are you going to go out on a date!”

  “Oh, whenever he finally asks me.”

  I rolled my eyes at her.

  “But he better hurry up,” said Sam. She gave me a nudge. “Before Adrienne makes a move.”

  I punched Sam in the arm. “Stop it!”

  We sat back in companionable silence, sipping our drinks.

  Although there was nothing better than just sitting back and chatting with my friends, I did have another reason for being with Sam and Cece. I wanted their advice.

  “What do you guys think I should do?”

  “About what, exactly?” asked Sam.

  “With Meredith. And Vince. When she offered me that job, I was so excited. It seemed like it would be a really big step, and who knows where it might lead.? If Vince became a mega-celebrity, there’d be so many opportunities for me. But now…”

  “Yeah,” said Cece, tapping her glass with a straw. “If she is a murderer, you really don’t want to be working for her.”

  “No. But if she’s not…”

  “Right. You don’t want to burn that bridge either, do you? It’s tricky.”

  Sam leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table, a small smile playing on her lips. She obviously had an idea.

  “You should talk to Vince.”

  “How so?”

  “Whether Meredith is a murderer or not, Vince is going to need PR help, isn’t he? It may have been Meredith who offered you the job, but really, Vince is the star, isn’t he? He’s the one who should be making all the decisions. And if Meredith is the killer, but you manage to save Vince’s reputation, well—he’d have to offer you a job, wouldn’t he?”

  “Wow,” said Cece with a wicked twinkle in her eye. “You’re not as dumb as she looks,” she said, jerking her head at me.

  I pulled the umbrella out of my drink and threw it at Cece’s head, lodging it in her dark hair. She laughed as she pulled it out and tossed it onto the table. “Just kidding.”

  “I know. So was I.” I stood up. “In fact, I’m going to do it right now. I’m going to talk to Vince.”

  They waved me off, and it was with a new enthusiasm that I left my friends, giggling together as if they’d had a half-dozen real cocktails instead of a single mixed fruit juice each.

  Chapter 20

  The good thing about trying to track down a celebrity on a cruise ship is that they can’t really hide. Everyone knows who they are, so if you just ask enough people, you’ll find them eventually. In this case, it turned out that Vince had ended up in one of the ship’s kitchens.

  After following the trail of breadcrumbs that he didn’t realize he’d left, I arrived at a kitchen behind the International Buffet. When I entered, my ey
ebrows shot up in disbelief. “Really?” I said to myself under my breath.

  Across the room, working at a stainless steel food prep area, were Greg Washington and Vince DeLuca, laughing and joking around like neither of them had a care in the world.

  I started marching over toward them, and I was almost there when Greg looked up and saw me coming. A flash of guilt rushed across his face. He looked like a little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A jar of cookies that he had earlier told his mother he hated.

  “Good afternoon,” I said to them. “What are you up to?”

  “Hi! Greg was just showing me how they prepared the mini omelet rolls,” said Vince.

  I stared at Greg. He bit his bottom lip and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Vince is… actually a really good chef,” said Greg, not even meeting my eye.

  Vince looked at him with a quizzical look on his face. I didn’t push it.

  I hoped Greg had learned his lesson about being too judgmental toward people. It seemed that Vince wasn’t such a ‘plastic chef’ after all.

  “Are you doing okay?” I asked Vince.

  It was what I had been planning to ask him before I arrived. But I hadn’t really expected to see him happily cooking away with another chef who had claimed no regard for him at all.

  “Yes, yes, I’m doing great. Thanks for asking.”

  I leaned against the metal prep area. “You know Meredith isn’t going to be released until we’re back in port, right?”

  He stepped backward and finally met my gaze. I could see him visibly forcing a sad look on to his face. “Oh, yes. It’s a terrible misunderstanding. I’m sure it will all be cleared up soon though.”

  “Yes, hopefully,” I said. “Let’s hope it’s all a mistake, and she has nothing to do with that unpleasantness.”

  “Indeed. It’s strange not having my darling wife by my side.”

  I had to hold back a snort. Vince was looking the happiest I’d seen him since he boarded the ship.

  “I was wondering. As you know, I may be getting into PR. Would you like me to put together some press releases for you?”

  “Press releases?”

  Greg put down his knife, and leaned back against the counter behind him, settling in to listen. No doubt mentally taking notes on any gossip he might hear. I ignored him.

  “Yeah. You know, with this,” I waved my hands, “misunderstanding, if that’s what it is, I think you should try and get ahead of the story. We should put some positive news out about you.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said, glancing around the kitchen.

  I bet you didn’t. You’re probably just relishing in your newfound freedom, I thought to myself.

  “So? Do you want me to do that?”

  “Yes. If you think that would be a good idea, then yes please. That would be really helpful.”

  “Great. I’ll get on it. Do you think I could take a couple of pictures of you?”

  He nodded, and I began to snap away.

  Greg stepped forward, putting his arm around Vince’s shoulders. “Get one of us together.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. Really?

  He completely ignored it.

  That man had no shame.

  “Would you like to give me a statement for what I’m going to release?”

  “Can you just make something up? Something about, you know, how I’m sure she didn’t kill that girl, and how much I miss her, that kind of thing?”

  I was almost tempted to ask him: “So you want me to lie?” But I did really want the PR job if I could get it, so I kept that thought to myself.

  “Sure. I’ll put something together and you can tell me whether you approve of it.”

  “Excellent. Right,” he turned to Greg, “now, where were we?”

  Apparently dismissed, I left the two chefs to get on with their mutual appreciation society. No matter whether he was upset, or not, I was going to put together the best press release I could. Really show the world what I could do.

  This PR job was going to be mine, with or without Meredith.

  Chapter 21

  After speaking to Vince, I was determined to talk to Meredith.

  Seeing him cooking so happily with Greg, I was now under the impression that Vince was almost relieved that his wife had been dragged away screaming and locked up. It was as if he had found himself again, and was enjoying his new freedom.

  It seemed to me that if one’s own husband could act and feel like that, it didn’t bode well for Meredith’s innocence.

  I wanted to get to the bottom of this investigation. If I truly believed that Meredith was guilty of the murder, it would greatly affect how I presented Vince in my upcoming PR pieces, and, if he offered me a job, into the future.

  I would need to show Vince as an unwitting, unknowing partner to a woman who had hidden her dark side from him for years. If it came out in the press that Vince and Meredith were incredibly close, it would make him look guilty too, and his reputation would be ruined—for good.

  If, on the other hand, Meredith really was innocent, then perhaps we could present Vince as a warrior fighting for justice for his poor, wrongly accused wife. From what I knew so far though, Meredith certainly looked like she was going to turn out to be the killer.

  I arrived at Ethan Lee’s office, and after a brief consultation through the intercom, the orderly outside his door waved me inside.

  Ethan’s face lit up as I entered and he immediately stood up from behind his desk. “How’s it going?” He walked toward me, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

  “Good. Great. But I need a favor.”

  He gave me a lopsided smile. “And here I was thinking you dropped by just to see me.”

  “Well, I am happy to see you too. But there’s something I’m working on. I want to talk to Meredith.”

  His face fell a little. “We have her in the brig, and she seems rather unstable at the moment. She was screaming up a storm earlier.”

  I rolled my eyes at the thought of her screeching like a caged harpy. “Even so, I’d really like to talk to her. And of course I’d let you know if she lets anything slip.”

  Ethan rested one hand on his desk as he leaned forward, considering my words.

  “I tried to interview her earlier. But she wouldn’t answer any questions. She just kept shouting about how outrageous everything was, and how she was going to have me fired, and bankrupt the cruise line with the help of her lawyers.”

  I winced at thought of Ethan having to suffer from her tirade of abuse.

  “I know, but maybe a woman’s touch will help? Meredith seemed to like me before.” I decided not to mention exactly why she liked me. Ethan getting the wrong idea too would be an absolute disaster. “However, it may be that since I was there during her arrest, she could have changed her mind somewhat. But if I try, perhaps I could get through to her. Can I just have a chat with her? Just for a few minutes? Please?”

  Ethan paced across the room toward the bookcase against the left-hand wall while he thought. When he reached it, he turned around, and started walking back toward me again, his hands hanging by his sides. His brows were drawn together slightly.

  “Okay. You can talk to her, but I’m going to have one of my men right outside the room in case she loses her mind again. You’re to call and leave immediately if she gets agitated or seems dangerous.”

  “Thank you so much!”

  “I’ve never seen someone so excited to talk to a probable murderer,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth turned up in a little smirk.

  “No,” I said, tilting my head to one side. “I didn’t think I would ever be either.”

  While I waited by the door, he made a phone call to the security office and arranged everything for me.

  I could talk to Meredith, but there would be someone there just in case she went for me. And I wasn’t to get my hopes up. She probably wouldn’t even deign to talk to me. But at least I could try.<
br />
  While I didn’t have a massive amount of experience dealing with murderers, Meredith certainly gave the impression of guilt when I arrived. Meredith was being held in the brig, which was a series of secure cabins located next to the security office. The brig cabins were, as I had found out on my last cruise, exactly the same as the cabin that Sam and I shared. Small little rectangles with little in the way of furniture or decoration: a bunk bed, a desk, a chair, and a tiny bathroom. Swan evidently spent all their decorating budget on the passenger cabins, which was to be expected.

  As soon as the door to Meredith’s cell was opened, revealing a cabin almost identical to the one Sam and I shared, she was on her feet, her eyes wide, and her mouth snarling.

  “You! Oh, I thought better of you, Adrienne. But you’re as bad as the rest of them, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

  I took a deep, calming breath. But it was Meredith who really needed to be taking them.

  “Meredith, I’m not here because I’m working with the security people. That’s not my job. I’m here for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She had both her hands held tightly by her side, squeezed into fists, the knuckles white. Standing there in her designer dress, makeup, and perfectly coiffed shiny jet-black hair, she looked startlingly out of place in the industrial cabin.

  “I’m here because I’m going to write some articles on Vince’s behalf. To make sure his career isn’t harmed, to get out ahead of the news organizations.”

  Meredith folded her arms, glaring at me, unconvinced. “Get me out of here.”

  With an awkward shrug and apologetic smile, I shook my head.

  “I’m really sorry. That’s not my area. I’m a very junior employee. I’ll do everything I can though. And what I can do is help you and Vince by getting ahead of this story.”

  She stared at me, lips sealed tight, for several seconds before turning and sitting down on the steel framed bed.

  “You’re really trying to help?”

  I nodded. I didn’t feel the need to explain it was only really Vince I was trying to help, and that if Meredith gave me any indication of her guilt, I would be passing it on just as fast as I could.