“That someone in Margaret’s inner circle decided ahead of time that they were going to kill her and turning off the cameras was a preemptive move to cover up for a murder.”
Rowan hadn’t even considered that. “How are you going to find out?”
“I am going to find out who made the request and go from there.”
Six
Jack and Ivy were in the dining room when Quinn and Rowan arrived. Since she felt helpless for falling down on the job where Margaret was concerned, Rowan decided she wasn’t about to let that happen to Ivy.
“Where are you going?” Quinn asked when she set off in the opposite direction of their normal table.
“We’re not eating alone this morning.”
Quinn looked beyond her, to where she was headed, and sighed. “This isn’t your fault, sweetheart,” he said as he scurried to catch up with her. “There’s nothing you could’ve done to save Margaret.”
Rowan wasn’t convinced that was true. “Why even have this gift if I can’t use it to save people? It’s not really a gift if there’s nothing good about it, is there?”
“I think everything about you is a gift.”
“Oh, geez.” Rowan rolled her eyes and slowed her pace. “That was a really sweet thing to say but now isn’t the time. I’m feeling a lot of rage, and it’s difficult to hold onto that rage when you’re being Mr. Perfect.”
Despite himself, Quinn smiled. “Well, I happen to like being perfect.”
“And I happen to like that, too. I’m angry, though. Not at you or even myself. I guess I’m angry at the world.”
Quinn let loose an exaggerated sigh. “And you’re going to make up for it by making sure nothing happens to the Bohemian princess, huh?”
“Don’t call her that. I like her.”
“Fine.” Quinn recognized this was an argument he couldn’t win so he decided to capitulate. “I’m going to help you because that’s what Mr. Perfect does. I don’t want you getting manic about this.”
“What have I ever gotten manic about?”
“You don’t really want me to answer that, do you?”
Rowan narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have to eat with us if you don’t want to, but I’m getting to know them better. I think, if I get to know them and find out if they have any enemies, that means I’ll have a better shot at figuring out what that symbol on the photograph means.”
“I have no problem eating with them. I met Jack last night. He seems like the friendly sort. I haven’t yet met her, but you clearly like her. I just want to point out before this goes too far, though, that you’ve made an assumption that she’s the one in the photo the symbol is pointing to. Each photo you showed me featured both of them.”
Rowan was taken aback. “Huh. I didn’t even think about that. You’re right. I naturally assumed it was her.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Quinn said hurriedly. “I’ve learned to trust your instincts. I’m simply curious why you’re assuming it’s her.”
Rowan had no answer for him. “I don’t know.”
“Well, just keep it in mind when we’re eating with them. He might very well be the source.”
“Fair enough.”
“YOU’RE REALLY PIGGING out on that bacon, huh?” Ivy noted as she cut into her blueberry pancakes and eyed the pile of meat on Jack’s plate with overt curiosity.
Jack shrugged, noncommittal. “I’m sensing a cop joke hidden somewhere in there.”
“I don’t really make cop jokes.”
“Fair enough.” He bit into a slice of bacon and evenly met her gaze. “Do you have a problem with me eating bacon?”
“No. I’ve simply never seen you eat that much.”
“That’s because we don’t keep it at the house. We usually have eggs and hash browns for breakfast, occasionally pancakes and waffles. We don’t ever have breakfast meats. Why do you think Max will only eat breakfast with us at the diner?” he asked, referring to Ivy’s boisterous brother.
“I never really thought about it.” She tilted her head to the side, considering. “I should probably keep more meat in the house for you, huh? I make you eat vegetarian at least three times a week.”
“You don’t make me do anything.”
“If there’s nothing else to eat, I kind of do force it on you.”
Jack let loose an exasperated sigh. “I hate it when you decide to give serious thought to relationship issues that aren’t really issues.”
“For example?”
“For example, meat. If I wanted more meat, I would simply buy more meat. I know where the grocery store is. I happen to like your vegetarian entrees.”
“You liked that dragon fruit dish I made last week?”
Jack involuntarily shuddered at the memory. “Okay, not that particular meal. That tasted like ... a white kiwi with sugar thrown on top.”
Ivy chuckled at the description. “It wasn’t very good. Even I thought it was gross.”
“I love your vegetarian lasagna, though. You make great vegetarian pasta. I do not like those meat substitute patties you keep in the freezer, though. I accidentally thought one of those was a chicken patty a couple of months ago. That was the worst chicken sandwich I ever had.”
“You can’t taste the difference.”
“Anyone with taste buds can taste the difference.”
“I think you’re exaggerating.”
“And I think I’m going to eat my weight in bacon while we’re here,” Jack countered, popping another slice of bacon into his mouth as Ivy laughed.
Rowan and Quinn picked that moment to approach. Rowan almost felt like an intruder because it was obvious the couple was enjoying each other’s company. They were on vacation, seemingly the only two people in their corner of the world. That didn’t change the fact that Rowan was convinced the symbol appeared for a reason. She wanted to make sure that reason wouldn’t spell disaster for the happy couple.
“Hey.” Rowan offered an enthusiastic greeting to announce their arrival. “Do you mind if we join you? I have a hankering to hear about Michigan and Quinn never believes me when I tell him the Coney dog is the state sandwich.”
If Quinn was surprised by Rowan’s statement, he didn’t show it. Instead he merely smiled indulgently and took the seat Jack gestured toward when he nodded it was fine to join them. “I’ve never understood mixing mustard and chili.”
“I love chili dogs,” Ivy enthused. “I also love mustard ... and chili ... and onions. They’re even better when you throw in some jalapeño peppers.”
Jack cast her a pointed look. “You don’t eat chili dogs.”
“I do so.”
“You do not. You’re a vegetarian.”
“They make vegetarian hot dogs.”
“So ... is that like a cucumber on a hot dog bun?” Quinn asked, confused.
Jack found the joke amusing, but Rowan and Ivy rolled their eyes in unison.
“Men,” Rowan muttered, shaking her head. “I don’t like hot dogs either.”
“They really do make vegetarian hot dogs,” Ivy said as she slathered butter on a fresh pancake. “I happen to like them. I make a really good vegetarian chili. It’s so good.”
“Your chili is amazing,” Jack agreed. “I don’t care how cute you are, though, you’re never going to convince me to eat a vegetarian hot dog.”
“I’m kind of confused about vegetarianism,” Quinn admitted, cutting into a sausage link. “Does that mean you don’t eat chicken and fish?”
“Nothing with a face,” Ivy replied.
“What about dairy products?” Rowan asked.
“I’m a vegetarian, not a vegan. I happen to like butter, milk, eggs, and cheese as much as the next person.”
“That is one good thing about your eating habits,” Jack agreed. “If we had to live in a world without pizza, I’m not sure our relationship could survive.”
“Ha, ha.” Ivy shook her head when he offered her half the doughnut he snagged from the buffe
t table. “Do you want me to make a joke about cops and doughnuts?”
“If you have a funny one.”
Since she didn’t, Ivy merely took the doughnut and shoved it in her mouth.
Quinn decided to take advantage of the momentary conversation lull. “Are you a police officer in the Detroit area?”
“No.” Jack scratched an invisible itch on the side of his nose. “I used to be, though.”
“Really?” Quinn missed the obvious signs that Jack wasn’t thrilled at the possibility of discussing his time with the Detroit police force. “That must have been interesting. There’s a lot of crime in Detroit, right?”
Jack shrugged. “Actually, Flint has a higher murder rate than Detroit these days.”
“I heard that,” Rowan said. “Flint has been in the news a lot because of the water crisis.”
“Yeah, I think residents in that area have it rough,” Jack agreed. “Thankfully, I left the big city behind and moved to Shadow Lake. We don’t have crime issues in Shadow Lake ... at least not a lot of them.”
“And what is Shadow Lake like?” Quinn was a city boy at heart, so when Jack started describing the town to him, he almost fell off his chair. “One stoplight?”
Jack chuckled, genuinely amused. “That’s what I thought when I moved there. Now I kind of like it.”
“I think you just like what you found there,” Quinn countered, gesturing toward Ivy. “I assume you’re a country girl at heart.”
Ivy nodded without hesitation. “Definitely. I grew up in Shadow Lake. I can’t ever imagine moving unless ... well, I guess if Jack decides he needs a bigger city to work in after we’re married, we would have no choice. He hasn’t mentioned that, though.”
“That’s because I don’t want to go back to the city,” Jack supplied. “I’m perfectly happy in Shadow Lake. I don’t miss the city at all.”
“You must miss the action,” Quinn pressed.
“No.” Jack was firm. “I don’t miss it.”
“Not even a little?”
Jack heaved out a sigh. “I was shot several times in the chest while on the job in Detroit. I almost died. That’s when I moved to Shadow Lake ... and I’m not sorry.”
Quinn felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry. That was none of my business. I didn’t mean to push you that way.”
Jack waved off the apology. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
Rowan risked a glance at Ivy and recognized the concern on the pretty woman’s features. It seemed Jack’s past weighed heavily on her, like it did on him. Maybe that was the source of the symbol, Rowan rationalized. Maybe Jack was supposed to die and, because he survived, he was somehow marked. That could explain a few things.
Still, the scenario didn’t fit. Even though she was loath to admit it to Quinn, she still believed the symbol was stalking Ivy, not her fiancé. Now, if only she could figure out why.
“You said you grew up in Shadow Lake,” Rowan noted. “I’m trying to remember a little about that area. I was young when I went up there with my father, but I seem to remember a Native American reservation up there. Is that right?”
Ivy nodded. “It’s actually closer to Traverse City.”
“Do you get to spend time on the reservation?”
“My mother, who is something of a Bohemian hippie, took me there when I was a kid,” Ivy replied, missing the warning look Rowan shot Quinn at the word “Bohemian.”
“What was it like?” Rowan asked, her natural curiosity coming out to play. “Is it like you see on television?”
“Um ... not really. A lot of the homes were run down, but they’d just opened up a new casino and I heard my mother talking to one of the women who lived there and they had high hopes for an economic turnaround. My mother took me there because they had bazaars on the weekends where they sold art and jewelry. She’s always been a big fan of stuff like that.”
“We should head out there one weekend,” Jack suggested. “We’re always looking for new stuff to do.”
“We could,” Ivy agreed. “They have a trout farm and everything. You might actually be able to catch some fish if you go there because they can’t get away.”
Jack scowled. “I’ve caught fish before.”
“I’ve never seen you catch fish.”
“I throw them back because we live in a vegetarian household.”
“Oh, whatever.” Ivy was enjoying herself. “You have steak with my brother at least twice a week when the weather is good and I even made you chicken for Christmas.”
Jack smiled at the memory. “You did. I had a whole chicken to myself. It was awesome.”
Quinn snickered at the moony look on Jack’s face. “I never really thought about it before, but you must jump at the chance to eat real food every chance you get.”
Jack sobered. “Ivy makes real food. She’s an amazing cook. She’s only ever made a few things I don’t like. There was this dragon fruit thing a few weeks ago. Oh, and then there’s the never-ending parade of morel dishes in the spring. I could do without those.”
Quinn furrowed his brow. “What are morels?”
“Only the best mushrooms ever,” Rowan enthused, brightening. “My father used to take me morel hunting when I was a kid. We would get enough to eat with our steaks for an entire weekend. Oh, they were so good. I haven’t had them in years.”
Ivy’s expression was cocky as she smirked at Jack. “I told you they were good.”
Quinn slid his eyes to Jack. “You don’t think they’re good?”
“Imagine eating a rubber bottle nipple, add a little grit, and then throw it up before eating it again. That’s pretty much what morels taste like.”
Rowan scowled. “You take that back.”
“No.” Jack shook his head. “I’ve been a good sport for two springs in a row. Last year I ate the morels because I was trying to get you to date me and I didn’t want to offend you. This year I ate the morels because we were engaged and I thought maybe my taste buds were mistaken the previous year. They weren’t wrong.”
Quinn barked out a laugh as Rowan smiled. “Now I want to try these mushrooms, if only to say that I tasted them.”
“You’re better off not knowing,” Jack countered. “I still have nightmares. Those mushrooms are worse than being shot.”
Ivy’s mouth dropped open. “Jack.”
He offered her a lazy grin. “That was a bad joke.” He decided to change the subject when she didn’t immediately relax and return the smile. “So, I saw your security guys dealing with a situation on the tenth floor this morning. Did someone get drunk and fall off a balcony?”
“Someone got strangled,” Rowan answered before Quinn could tackle the question in a more professional manner.
“Strangled?” Jack leaned forward, instantly alert. “Are you serious?”
Now that Rowan had opened the door, Quinn figured he had no choice but to walk through it. “Unfortunately, yes. We’re not sure what happened. They specifically asked for the cameras to be shut off in that part of the ship so we’re flying blind.”
“Why would they ask for the cameras to be shut off?” Ivy asked.
“Because it’s the bigwigs from that group I was telling you about,” Rowan answered. “The ones that think movies, television, books, and music are rotting the brains of today’s youth. They didn’t want to be caught on camera — although I still think there’s something weird about that — and now we don’t know who went in or out of that room last night.”
“That sucks.” Jack was thoughtful. “It can’t be easy to investigate a crime on a ship like this. What exactly are you allowed to do when it comes to making an arrest? Or even conducting an interrogation?”
“I have the power to take anyone and everyone into custody,” Quinn replied. “You agree to that when you sign the paperwork for your rooms. I cannot technically arrest you, but I can put you in a holding cell. If you don’t want to answer my questions, then I have the right to put you in a cell until we dock on the mainla
nd.”
“I guess I can see that.” Jack was thoughtful. “You probably don’t have a lot of murders on a cruise ship, though. If you need help with the investigation, I can offer any insight you might need. I’m a detective so I’ve investigated my fair share of murders.”
Ivy scowled. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.
Quinn patted her arm by way of solace. “You don’t have to worry about me taking him up on that. This isn’t my first murder investigation either. I’ve got everything under control. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Are you sure?” Jack pressed.
“I’m sure.” Quinn was firm. The last thing he wanted was a Michigan cop infringing on his investigation. He might not have carried a badge, but he was good at his job and didn’t need anyone muddying his waters. “You’re on vacation. I thought the whole point of being on vacation was to spend time with the person you love.”
“I thought that, too,” Ivy grumbled.
Jack sighed as he reached across the table and snagged her hand. “I didn’t mean to stick my nose into an investigation that’s not mine. It was instinct. You’re right, though. This is our vacation, honey. The only thing I want is to spend time with you.”
Ivy could’ve been magnanimous, but that wasn’t her way. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“How about we head back to the room, you change into your new bathing suit, and we head to that VIP pool we’ve heard so much about? I promise I’ll show you exactly how much time I want to spend with you there.”
Rowan beamed at Ivy as the woman relented. “That sounds like a good idea, huh? Maybe I’ll stop by and see you guys later or something.”
“Sure.” Ivy bobbed her head. “We’ll be around all day. It’s not as if you can hide on a ship.”
“Sometimes that doesn’t feel true,” Quinn said. “Hopefully we’ll be able to put this issue to rest fairly quickly, though. I know I don’t have to warn you because of your background, but keep your eyes open all the same.
“I have to believe Margaret Adkins was killed because of who she was, the agenda she was pushing,” he continued. “There’s still a killer out there. Make sure you’re careful.”
Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus Page 26