Jack wasn’t sure he wanted that to happen. Now that he could see up close how she was being worn down, he wanted to protect her. They were supposed to be on vacation, after all. “Honey, we don’t have to be a part of this.” He chose his words carefully. “We’re on vacation. This isn’t our problem.”
“I saw her, Jack. I felt her. It might not be your problem, but it’s mine.”
“Don’t say that. Your problems are my problems.”
Ivy was rueful. “Are you starting to regret taking me on?”
“No. I’m starting to regret leaving the room. We should’ve spent the entire time living on love and room service.”
“We could’ve done that at home.”
“Good point.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Come on. There’s no sense putting it off. We’ll head over there together. If nothing happens, then I say we put this behind us and move on.”
Ivy wasn’t sure that was possible. “I felt her fear, Jack.”
He sighed. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Finish your iced tea and then we’ll head over there. We need to be careful so nobody sees us. The last thing I want is a bunch of unnecessary questions from Security Chief Stick-Up-His-Butt.”
Ivy snorted. “He’s not so bad. I kind of like him.”
“That’s because he’s not trying to prove his superiority over you.”
“He has a job to do.”
“Apparently, so do we.” Jack held out his hand. “Come on, honey. Let’s get this over with.”
Rowan waited until she was certain they’d moved away from the table to lean back and stare around the wall. She could see them moving across the desk, fingers linked, and her brain was moving a mile a minute.
“What the heck was that?”
ROWAN FOUND QUINN IN HIS office twenty minutes later. She expected him to be questioning members of the group. Instead, he appeared to be looking over a manifest.
“What are you doing?” Rowan entered without knocking, securing the door behind her.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Quinn leaned back in his chair, stress lines creasing his forehead. “If you’re here to tell me more bad news, I’m not sure I can take it.”
“I’m here to tell you a few things.” Instead of sitting in one of the chairs across from his desk, Rowan moved behind Quinn and massaged his shoulders. “I think you’ve had a rough morning, though. Do you want to tell me about your day first?”
“Oh, that feels amazing.” Quinn closed his eyes and enjoyed the way her hands moved across his back. “Seriously, sweetie, that is ... awesome.”
Rowan smiled as she glanced at the top of his head. “I aim to please.”
“And you do. A little lower.”
Rowan gladly acquiesced. “What did the doctor say?”
“She was strangled. He managed to scrape some DNA from under her fingertips, but we have no way of matching it until we have a suspect. I doubt the other members of the group are going to voluntarily give us their DNA.”
“Probably not,” Rowan agreed. “Although ... I saw this thing on television once. The police ran DNA tests off discarded cigarettes and chewing gum. Maybe we can do something like that.”
Quinn knew better than to laugh at her, but he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, you’re so cute I can’t stand it. I mean it.”
“I was being serious.”
“I know. That’s what makes you even cuter.”
“Tell me why that’s not a good idea.”
“Because there’s no smoking allowed on the ship and most people don’t simply toss gum on the ground when there are trash receptacles at every corner.”
“Oh.” Rowan’s hope deflated. “I didn’t even think about that.”
“That’s okay.” He patted her stilled hand. “You can make it up to me by continuing to rub me until I purr.”
Even though she was disappointed with her own narrow-minded idea, Rowan snorted and went back to the massage. “Did the doctor say anything else? Can he narrow the suspect field to male or female?”
“Actually, no. The hands used to strangle her weren’t overly large. That means it could go either way. We might know more if we could test the DNA, but we don’t have those capabilities on the ship.”
“Well, that’s a bummer.”
“No doubt.”
Rowan pursed her lips. “So, what are you doing in here?”
“Running the names of the people in the group who were in the block of rooms close to Margaret. I’m trying to see if I can find anyone with a less-than-savory background.”
“Anything good?”
“Well, I found Mark Denton. He joined the group about a year ago. He moved up fast through the ranks. From what I can tell, he handles the website and online content.”
“And what did you find in his background that set your Spidey senses into overdrive?”
“He’s been arrested and charged three times. Once for drunk driving, once for drugs, and once for frequenting a drug house.”
Rowan furrowed her brow, confused. “That doesn’t sound like the sort of guy who would be helping run a campaign like this one.”
“That’s what I thought,” Quinn agreed. “He’s definitely on my list for interviews this afternoon. I mean ... it’s possible he cleaned up his act and turned his life around. Maybe he joined the church and they pointed him toward this group. It’s possible.”
“But you don’t believe it.”
“I don’t know what I believe.”
“Well, not to add to your problems, but have you considered that maybe the killer isn’t part of the group?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe whoever killed Margaret didn’t want to join the group, or perhaps couldn’t for other reasons, and instead found out about the cruise and signed up as a regular guest,” Rowan replied. “Maybe he simply flew under the radar, perhaps talked himself into Margaret’s room the night she died, and then slipped back under the radar.”
“Okay, but why go after Emily?”
“Maybe she saw him at some point and he was worried she would squeal.”
“Emily said she didn’t see anyone hanging around Margaret, though.”
“Yes, but she was in shock from seeing the body that way. She might’ve remembered more when her memory cleared.”
“I guess.” Quinn rubbed his chin before jiggling his shoulders. “I don’t think you’re quite done rubbing me yet.”
Amused, Rowan went back to her task. “I took the photos you wanted, by the way. The omen isn’t there. I went through everything I had ... twice. The omen never showed up on Emily’s photos and it doesn’t appear on any of the other photos I took of the group.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Rowan didn’t answer, causing Quinn to turn in his chair so he could study her face. “Isn’t it?” he prodded.
“Normally I would say yes. Emily didn’t have the omen, though. I don’t understand why that is. The omen always shows up.”
Quinn opted to be pragmatic. “You said it yourself. It could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment attack. Most of the time, we have a little notice to deal with these things. That can’t always be the case.”
“I guess.”
Quinn reached around and grabbed Rowan, tugging her to his lap so he could wrap his arms around her and kiss her cheek. “Don’t beat yourself up about this. I don’t like it. Not even a little. You’re better than this.”
“I feel kind of helpless. When your nurse girlfriend Desiree asked why I thought I was part of the team this morning, I was angry. Maybe she had a point.”
“Oh, don’t turn all melancholy. I hate that.” He pressed another kiss to her cheek. “I love you. You’re part of the team no matter what, and it’s not simply because of the omens. You’re good on your feet and you think things through in a logical manner. I like that about you.”
“That kind of soun
ds like code for being boring.”
“You’re so far from boring you don’t even live on the same continent.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“I meant it.”
“Good.” Rowan exhaled heavily as she rested her head against his cheek. “There’s one other thing I have to tell you.”
“Uh-oh.” Quinn braced himself. “The fact that you kept it for last worries me.”
“I don’t know how you should feel about it. Truly.”
“Okay, tell me what it is and we’ll go from there.”
“I was in the tiki bar and I happened to overhear a conversation.”
“Was it about murder?”
“Not quite.” Rowan related Jack and Ivy’s conversation to Quinn. Part of her felt guilty about it — she knew she would be upset if someone shared her secret — but she was in over her head and needed help puzzling things out. “So, basically, I think that symbol on her photo means something else entirely.”
Quinn had no idea what to make of what Rowan told him. “I don’t understand,” he said finally. “Are you saying she’s psychic?”
“I think that’s probably the easiest way to state it. It sounded to me like she saw something in her head last night, and that something tied into what happened to Emily.”
“Huh.” Quinn was legitimately stumped. “Maybe that symbol was supposed to tip you off that someone like you was close.”
“I don’t think she’s like me,” Rowan argued. “I’m not psychic.”
“You see death and danger omens in photographs, sweetheart. If that’s not at least partially psychic, I don’t know what is.”
Rowan frowned. “I’m honestly not psychic. I don’t think you can use that word to describe me.”
“Okay.” He absently patted Rowan’s thigh. Now wasn’t the time to argue about her abilities. They could save that for another day. “Demarcus said he saw them in the lobby last night and Ivy looked upset. He said Jack was trying to comfort her. That must have been after the blackout.”
“Right.”
“The doctor believes Emily died during the blackout. The timing is right.”
“So ... oh.” Realization dawned on Rowan. “Ivy and Jack are working on the assumption that Emily died after the vision ... or whatever it was. They don’t know the time of death.”
“They don’t know that Ivy was probably seeing the death as it happened,” Quinn said, making his decision on the spot. He gave Rowan a smacking kiss on the cheek and pushed her to a standing position. “Come on. We need to find them.”
Rowan was taken aback. “What are you going to do when you find them?”
“Have a chat.”
“But ... what if they deny everything?”
“Then they deny everything. We still need to talk to them. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and gave her a light tug. “There’s no sense in putting it off.”
“IS THIS THE SPOT?”
Ivy rubbed the back of her neck as she studied the deck space Jack indicated. They’d taken up position a good thirty feet away so they wouldn’t look suspicious while studying the deck. That didn’t stop Ivy from feeling awkward and out of place.
“That’s the spot,” Jack confirmed, rubbing his hand over her slim back. “Do you recognize anything?”
“I’m not sure.” Ivy chewed on her lip as she slowly swiveled, narrowing her eyes when she caught sight of the door behind them. “Does that open?”
“It’s a door.”
“You know what I mean. Is it locked?”
Jack chuckled at her withering tone. “There’s only one way to find out.” He strolled to the door and gave it a firm tug. It opened without complaint, and when Ivy peered inside, she nodded without hesitation.
“This is the hallway she was running through,” Ivy said. “That painting right there, the one of the lighthouse in the storm, I recognize it. Someone was chasing her, she burst through this door, and ran onto the deck.”
“What was she feeling at the time?”
“Terrified.”
“Look beyond that, honey,” Jack prodded. “She was feeling more than one thing, right? She was thinking more than one thing. Try to remember.”
Ivy closed her eyes and swayed back and forth, searching her memory of the vision. “She was surprised. She didn’t know she was in trouble until it was already too late.”
“That’s good.” Jack kept his voice low and soothing. “Can you get a picture of who was chasing her?”
“No.”
“Man or woman?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, don’t push that right now,” Jack said. “What happened when she hit the deck? Did she run straight to the railing or did she try to escape in another direction first?”
“I don’t think she was thinking about that either way. She was surprised when she hit the deck and realized it was storming. The only reason she recognized how isolated she was is because of the lightning. It was dark, no deck lights or anything. The only illumination came from the storm.”
“Okay.”
“She was terrified, and discombobulated,” Ivy continued. “She tripped over a lounger, banged her shin in the process. It hurt.” Ivy absently leaned over and rubbed her shin, something Jack didn’t like because he wasn’t keen on her putting herself into the mind of a woman who died.
“She just ran forward because she didn’t know what else to do,” Ivy said finally. “She was caught in front of the railing. It was too dark to see the person she was fighting with. She fought hard to breathe, so hard it burned. She couldn’t see, though. She couldn’t breathe. It hurt.”
“That’s enough of that.” Jack grabbed Ivy’s arm and pulled her to him. “You don’t have to remember that. Not again. That’s more than enough.”
“Oh, I’m not sure about that.”
Jack froze at the sound of the interrupting voice and turned, his eyes going dark when he found Rowan and Quinn staring at him from the open doorway he’d walked through with Ivy a few moments before. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Quinn replied. “It’s an awfully nice day to be hiding in a hallway.”
“We’re not hiding.” Jack stroked Ivy’s hair to calm her. “Ivy isn’t used to the sun. She has extremely fair skin. We’re taking a break.”
“Uh-huh.” Quinn didn’t look convinced as he folded his arms across his chest. “Word on the ship is that your girlfriend is psychic and she saw something last night.”
Rowan’s mouth dropped open. “Quinn!”
He ignored her and barreled forward. “I’m dying to know what she saw. Dying being the operative word, of course.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jack lied, clutching Ivy closer to him. “We’re simply taking a break from the sun. If someone told you Ivy is psychic ... well ... that’s a load of crap. She’s just a simple woman. She bakes barefoot and yells at me for not putting my laundry away. Does that sound like a psychic to you?”
“I’m not sure.” Quinn’s eyes shifted to Ivy and there was genuine sympathy reflected there when he took in Ivy’s pale countenance. “I don’t want to make things rough on you, but I’m not going to let this go. I think we need to talk.”
Jack refused to back down. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I think there is.”
“Well, I think ... .”
Ivy put her hand on Jack’s arm to still him. “It’s okay. We can talk to him. It’s probably best that we do.”
Jack wasn’t convinced. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“And I’m not sure you have a choice,” Quinn pressed. “It’s either come with me now or come with me later ... when I gather my men to haul you in.”
Jack scowled. “You’re really starting to bug me.”
“Right back at you.”
Fourteen
Jack insisted Rowan and Quinn accompany him back to the VIP room. Quinn sug
gested his office, but Jack refused to cede control and let Quinn have home-field advantage. He linked his fingers with Ivy’s, smiled at her questioning look, and reassured her with a soft whisper that everything would be okay.
He believed that ... if only because he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure that was true.
“Wow. Look at this room.” Rowan had never seen one of the VIP lofts in person before. She was flabbergasted. “This is five times as big as my room ... and it’s nice.”
Quinn slid her a sidelong look and mustered a smile. “I’ll arrange for us to take over one of these rooms for an upcoming cruise. You can get a taste of it firsthand.”
“You don’t have to do that. My room is ... okay.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I want you to have the best.” Quinn winked at her before turning serious and focusing on Ivy and Jack.
For their part, the antsy couple sat together on the couch so Jack could act as a buffer. The big man put his arm around Ivy’s back, kissed her cheek, and refused to speak first. He left that task to Quinn.
“I understand something happened last night,” Quinn started.
“Yes, the power went out,” Jack drawled, adopting an imperious tone. “I’m considering writing the cruise line bigwigs to voice my disappointment. You can bet this little question-and-answer session will be included in that complaint as well.”
Quinn blinked several times in rapid succession before speaking. “Why was Ivy upset last night?”
“She didn’t like the offerings at dinner,” Jack answered without hesitation.
“You ordered room service once you got back to the room, the same offerings available in the dining room.”
“And she didn’t eat what I ordered for her,” Jack supplied. “If you’re watching us closely enough to know that we left the dining room early, you probably checked the trays we left out for housekeeping, too, right?”
Quinn frowned. Actually, he hadn’t bothered to collect a report on the empty trays. “I’m not really interested in what Ivy is eating.”
“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.” Jack slapped his knee and pointed toward the door. “You know the way out.”
Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus Page 33
