Margot’s eyebrows shot up. “Again?”
“I’m sorry,” the captain said, looking down at her. “Who are you?”
“I’m Margot Durand—”
“The pastry chef?”
She was surprised the captain knew about her presence on board with hundreds of staff to account for. “Um, yes.”
“Pleased to meet you. I'm Captain Grayson Haus. And what exactly are you doing here? You’re a long way from the kitchen.”
“I was the one who found the…body.”
He looked to the side where two of Harvey’s coworkers were documenting everything. “Right. Well, I am terribly sorry for you. This is supposed to be a vacation and…” His eyes narrowed. “You’re awfully calm about all of this.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Harvey said.
Margot shrugged. “My late husband was a detective and I’ve…seen my share of dead bodies. Unfortunately.” Both men looked surprised but she pressed on. “You’ve had drug overdoses on board before?”
The captain looked around as if he was afraid of being overheard but something in his expression softened. “Look, Mrs. Durand, this cruise goes to Mexico almost every week and there is an unsavory side to every town past the boarder, especially Ensenada. We’ve had our fair share of issues with recreational drugs being brought on board, though we do everything in our power to make sure that doesn’t happen. Though, we’ve never had an overdose that was fatal.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Look, it’s late. Once Harvey here has everything he needs from you, why don’t you go back to your cabin to rest. I’m sure this has been trying.”
She appreciated the captain’s understanding nature, but she was more concerned by the fact that there was a dead body. What would they do? Contact the authorities? It would likely be the FBI that would investigate the case since it was on international waters.
“What do you plan to do?” she said, looking between both men.
“Don’t you worry about it,” Harvey said. She could almost hear the added, ‘little lady.’ “I’ll be in contact with the proper authorities.”
Margot wanted to take a better look at the woman, but she also didn’t want to raise Harvey’s suspicions any more than she already had. One more question couldn’t hurt though, could it?
“Who is she?”
Both men turned to look at her. It was the Grayson who spoke first. “She was our sports and recreation coordinator. Kristen Chambers.”
Margot nodded. “I see.” At least that explained why she was in the sports closet, but it didn't explain why she was wearing a tight—and short—miniskirt, red heels, and a sequined top. “Are crewmembers usually allowed to…party?”
This time it was Harvey who answered her. “We discourage some…um, personal interactions between the staff and our guests, but we do encourage our staff to mingle when possible. She was well within her rights as a staff member to have a night out, just not with this type of recreation.”
Margot understood. “I see.”
“I think I have all that I need for now, but I may need to question you further or have you speak with the proper authorities when we reach port back in Long Beach.”
“Yes, of course.” She had assumed as much, but she knew the difference in pace between that of a drug overdose and a murder. Was this the former, or the later?
Chapter 5
Margot reached her cabin not long after she’d been released from the sports equipment storage area, though she had stopped to pick up a container of food to take back to her room. She’d also placed a call to Addie on the ship’s phone, wondering if she was worried, but she hadn’t reached her friend. She’d even stopped by her room but without an answer, Margot went back to her room.
Famished as she was, she placed the food on the small table and pulled out her iPad. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Harvey and his security team, but if they were going to wait to contact the authorities until they were headed back to Long Beach, wouldn’t evidence grow cold?
She paused, her fingers hovering over the small, attached keyboard. Evidence? Here she was treating this drug overdose as a murder—something Harvey didn’t think it was.
Sighing, she rested her head on her hand, elbow propped on the tabletop. It wasn’t that she wanted it to be a murder case so much as she was afraid that certain elements weren’t lining up. Like the fact that she’d been following someone she believed to be a police officer only to find a dead woman where he’d lead her. Then again, she wasn’t certain it had been Gabe—either at the end of that hall or even on board at all.
Adam’s name glared back at her from the top of the email she’d started. Should she go through with it? Would he only worry? Then again, could she phrase her questions in such a way that he wouldn’t be suspicious? Perhaps ask if he’d met up with Gabe? Likely not, he was a smart man, but just maybe…
Her fingers flew over the small, bluetooth keyboard and once she’d hit send, she leaned back. A picture of a large cake topped with éclairs and religieuse stared back at her. One of her monumental creations she’d done in her years of competing to be the best French pastry chef in the world. Or something like that.
A soft, memory-laden smile edged onto her lips but was soon replaced with the reality that a woman had died that night. Why? Was it as simple—and horrible—as a drug overdose? Or was it something else altogether?
Dressing in pajamas, Margot ate the now mildly warm dinner she’d taken with her and then climbed into bed. She was exhausted from the mental strain as much as from the reality that, yet again, she’d come across a dead body. Even on vacation she couldn't seem to get away from it. But that prodding at the back of her mind, the one that urged her to desire the truth in all circumstances, reared its curious head. It was the same reason she’d sought out the truth in both her niece’s case and her friend Tamera’s husband’s case. The truth had to prevail, and if she could do anything to help that along, then she would.
Pounding on her cabin door jerked her from fitful sleep and she stumbled out of bed, reaching the door as another fit of pounding began.
“Addie?” she said, looking at her through bleary eyes.
“I’m sorry, Marg, but I had to see you. Can I come in? I brought coffee.”
The scent of bold French roast wafted out of the paper cup her friend was holding and, despite the restless night she’d had, Margot nodded and reached for the liquid caffeine.
“I just can’t believe it,” her friend said, hand going to her forehead as she paced the small space from the bed to the door then back again. “I mean, a woman is dead!”
Margot nodded, sipping the black coffee and grimacing when she burned her tongue. “I know. I was there.”
“You were what?”
Margot frowned. “Don’t you check your messages? I stood you up for dinner last night and then phoned to let you know I had been detained due to the—” She almost said murder. “—death.”
“I… No.”
Margot observed her friend through narrowed eyes. There were bags under her eyes and her hair was disheveled. In fact, it almost looked as if she hadn’t gone to bed at all. She was also pacing again. Was she nervous?
“Addie, calm down.” She reached her hand out toward the girl. “Come sit with me. Calm down. Did you know the woman?”
Addie shook her head, biting her lip before she answered. “Not really. I mean, I’m down in the kitchens almost all the time and don’t have a chance to really do much recreation. I just— I guess I’m shocked.”
“Of course, that’s natural. How did you hear about it?”
“At a staff briefing this morning. It’s so unorthodox. I mean, nothing like this has ever happened.”
“Do you know anyone who knew the girl well?”
“Not really,” she said. “I mean, from what I heard, there weren’t a whole lot of people who did know her. Someone did say they’d seen her leave the club last night. I guess she was on her way to…I don'
t know, take the party to the next level?”
“But it was still so early,” Margot mused.
“Right? I said as much, but one of the pursers in charge of that club said he saw her there often, never on duty or anything, so she was well within her rights as a crewmember to be there, but still…it was early.”
“Was she ever seen with a man?”
Addie looked over at Margot with a confused expression. “What?”
“Sorry, I suppose you wouldn’t know that. I was just wondering…maybe she ‘partied’ with someone on staff.”
“Oh, that I wouldn't know.” Addie looked down at the coffee held in her hands. “All of this is just too much right now.”
Her friend’s words alerted her to something deeper going on than just her upset over the dead crewmember.
“Addie,” she said gently, “what’s going on?”
Her friend looked up with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You just seem out of sorts. Is there something I can help you with? It’s a great thing to unburden yourself to a friend sometimes.”
“Oh, uh, no.” She shook her head and managed a feeble smile. “I’m fine. Really. I’m just…upset about all of this.”
Margot had the distinct feeling that the girl wasn’t telling her the truth, but she had no way to know if that was true or not. It also didn’t feel like the right time to pressure her for a further explanation.
“I’d better get back to work. I’m just on a break. The pastries won’t bake themselves as you well know, but thanks for listening to me.”
“Of course. Do you need help this morning?”
“Absolutely not,” Addie said with a stronger smile, “you’re only on duty tonight. I hope you can get some relaxation time in. And I almost forgot to ask. Do you want to explore Ensenada today? I’ll be done by early afternoon when we dock. I’d be happy to show you around.”
“That sounds wonderful. Meet you in the mezzanine around one then?”
“Perfect. See you then.”
“Oh,” Margot called out to her friend. “Is it possible to see a list of passengers on board?”
The request shocked her friend and she rushed to find a reasonable explanation rather than admitting she wanted to see if Gabe Williams was listed as a passenger.
“I thought I saw Brice Simmons but I wanted to make sure before I made a fool out of myself asking for an autograph.”
“Oh,” Addie laughed, “well, there isn’t guest access to it but I could check for you.”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll take my chances.”
Addie gave a little wave and disappeared out the door while Margot slumped back against the bed pillows. She felt bad about the fib she’d told her friend since she knew the egotistical man had indeed been Brice, but that also meant there was no way she could see the manifest. Well…no easy way at least. Maybe it was time she did a little digging of her own.
Margot dressed in white linen capris and a light blue tank top under a lightweight polka dot navy sweater. She tucked her canvas tote that would serve as her purse over her shoulder and headed out into the hall. She walked down the now familiar route to the mezzanine, but instead of veering off to the left and out the double glass doors that showcased the deep blue ocean waters, she walked down the steps and toward the customer service area.
It was still early, though not as early as she was used to waking up to get to the bakery, but that meant there was only one purser overseeing the computers. Thankfully, it was a woman. Her ruse would work with a man, but probably not as well. Margot had thought long and hard about what she was going to do and, when she stepped up to the waist-high desk, a computer monitor and keyboard the only things constituting the woman’s work space, she put on a warm, slightly shy smile.
“Hello and good morning, ma’am. How may I help you?”
“Good morning. I have a question.” She looked around, lowering her voice though no one was around. She bit her lip and did her best to look embarrassed. “There was this man last night…” Margot gave a girlish giggle. “He was the sweetest. I met him in the bar and he gave me his room number, we’re going into Ensenada today, but I lost it somewhere between the bar and my own room.” She looked sheepishly at the woman. “Is there any way to find out where he is?”
She pursed her lips and put on an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but we’re unable to give guests’ room numbers.”
“Oh, I completely understand but…” Margot huffed out a breath and played up her dejected look. “I really liked him and he was so respectful. That’s rare these days. I don’t need to see him exactly, but could you page him? Do you do things like that on the ship?”
The woman shook her head again. “No, we don’t really page. Although…” She tilted her head. “I could leave a note for him and make sure he gets it before this afternoon.” She smiled and Margot wondered if this was going to work.
“That might be all right,” she said, trying to look hopeful.
“His name was Gabe. Gabe Williams.” The woman clicked through her program and Margot added, “I think he’s staying on the East deck. Fifth floor or something.”
After a few more clicks, the woman shook her head. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but there’s no one here under that name.”
Margot hid her dismay with surprise. “What? You mean he lied to me?”
The woman looked sympathetically at her. “I’m sorry.”
“Figures I would meet a nice guy who wouldn’t be that nice. Well, thank you so much for your help.”
“Not a problem. Have a great day.”
The woman’s cheery farewell followed Margot through the mezzanine and out onto the deck as she made her way to The Acapella Room for breakfast. So she hadn’t seen Gabe. Or, if it had been him, he was here under an assumed name. And she’d followed him to the room where a dead body had been found.
She was so preoccupied that she didn’t even notice the handsome, tanned man blocking her path until she collided with his solid chest. Warm hands reached out and lightly cupped here elbows, setting her back on her feet.
Righted, she looked up into aqua eyes that rivaled the ocean outside the wall of windows that faced west.
“Margot Durand.”
“Brice Simmons,” she said, barely holding in her grimace.
His flashing white teeth told her he was more than happy to see her. “Let’s have breakfast.”
She didn’t need—or want—his flirty attention. “That’s all right. I’m sure you’re busy. I’m…” She looked around for an excuse and spotted the two young women she’d seen the day before. This time they were wearing more than they had been on the deck, but only by a little.
“I won’t take no for an answer. This way.” He motioned for a waiter as the two women came toward him. “Tiffany, Haden, you’re dismissed for the morning.”
They nodded and turned away as if this happened often and Margot had a feeling it did. “Really, I’m fine eating alone.”
“On a cruise? You already read alone, a waste of time if you ask me. Besides, you can go home and tell everyone you had breakfast with Brice Simmons.” This arrogant smile nearly took all of the air from the room, or at least it felt that way.
Margot wanted to say that none of her friends would really care, but that wasn’t fully true. She had a feeling Taylor would ‘flip out,’ as she was prone to say. But aside from her celebrity-crazy niece, no one else would care. If he’d been Frank Sinatra, it might have been another story.
Resigning herself that it was either breakfast with Brice or going hungry, she listened to her stomach and followed him as the waiter showed them to a table.
“Glad you decided to join me,” he said, flashing her a brilliant smile before ordering a coffee with more qualifiers than Margot thought possible.
She ordered coffee with cream and then turned her gaze on the man sitting across from her. “You hardly gave me a choice.”
There was that grin again. �
��Well, you looked lonely standing there. Besides, what I said was right, you can’t go on a cruise by yourself.”
She hiked an eyebrow. “You can, and I did.”
“And how much fun are you having?”
“Actually…” She looked to the side, thinking of the body she’d found last night. “Not that much fun, but that’s no fault of the cruise or being alone.”
His gaze narrowed. “Are you talking about the body you found?”
“How did you know about that?” She was genuinely shocked.
“Oh, my staff likes to share information with me.”
“Your staff?”
“Tiffany and Haden. They are my assistants.”
They certainly didn’t dress like any assistants Margot had ever seen. “Still, how did they know about it?”
“It’s their job to be informed.”
“I’d say that’s more than staying informed.”
“Think of it this way, if there’s a threat that could affect me, it’s their job to know.”
That was interesting. The women looked like two pieces of arm candy, but she knew better than to categorize people by how they looked.
“They are your security?”
“That’s Haden,” he said with a grin, “Tiffany is my personal assistant.”
“Interesting.”
He leaned his elbows on the table. “I know it’s unorthodox, but Haden graduated top of her class at the police academy and, once she’d had enough of being a public servant, she sought out something a little more profitable.”
Everything about that statement made Margot recoil.
“What?” Brice said as their food arrived. He had insisted on ordering instead of choosing the buffet option and Margot had to admit the steaming bowl of oatmeal with artfully placed fruit on top did looked amazing. “I can tell something I said made you unhappy.”
“My husband—my late husband,” she added when she saw his surprised look, “was one of those odious ‘public servants’.”
“And you don’t like that she wanted to make enough money to pay off her school debts?”
Pastries and Pilfering: A Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Page 4
