Bekki the Beautician 10 - Cosmetics, a Cruise and a Killer

by Cindy Bell

  Chapter Seven

  When Bekki reached the dance floor it was just as crowded as it had been when she had left. She hung out near the edge of the bar and watched as customer after customer walked up and received their drink orders. Bekki noticed that none of them received anything remotely similar to the Lucky Streak that they had been served the night before. She watched and waited for the information she was seeking.

  Finally, one of the bartenders must have run out of some kind of supply they needed. The bartender touched a button on the wall and a door slid open. It didn't open out or in, it actually slid into the wall. It was impossible to see unless it was open. Bekki cringed at that because she wasn't sure how she would be able to get inside. With the way the crowd was dancing she guessed that it wouldn't be thinning out any time soon. Her only chance of getting behind the bar was going to be at closing time.

  Bekki decided to head out to the deck of the ship and hoped that she would be able to get a signal. She wanted some advice from Nick about what was happening. Since she hadn't received any calls or texts recently she was beginning to suspect that there was no signal getting through. As she made her way up to the open air deck she found it to be much less crowded. Despite the fact that it was tropical weather during the day the air over the water seemed to have a slightly chilly bite to it. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered a little. She found a private spot and leaned against the railing.

  As her phone searched for a signal she looked out over the calm, pristine water. It was hard to believe that a murder could take place in such a beautiful environment. But it had. The slow rock of the ship seemed to calm her nerves after her encounter with Peter and Todd. She glanced down at her phone to find that it still had no signal. She sighed and tucked her phone back into her pocket.

  In the quiet she began trying to piece together what might have happened to the croupier. She now knew that there was an open investigation into the croupier and the possibility that she was stealing money from the casino. Did that mean that someone from the casino had killed her? But why do that, if they could have easily just prosecuted her or at the very least fired her? Then there was Bobby who had threatened to kill the croupier, and it seemed awfully coincidental that she had died on the same night that Bobby threatened her.

  Bekki’s thoughts turned back to Peter. What did he have to do with any of this? Maybe she was overreacting about the drink being spiked. Maybe there was nothing suspicious about him after all. So, he was definitely faking sick, that didn't mean he was guilty of murder, it just meant that he wanted a day off. His explanation about his girlfriend had been plausible. She sighed as she realized she just didn't have enough information to make any decision, and unfortunately with an investigator like Todd on the case she wasn't going to get much more information than she could find on her own. She was busy counting the stars when she heard someone walking up to the railing. She turned quickly to find Todd standing there. For the first time she noticed that he was a rather handsome man. His hair ruffled in the light breeze, and his piercing blue eyes sought her out intently.

  “Not thinking of jumping, I hope?” he asked gruffly.

  Instantly Bekki felt any sense of warmth towards him disappear. His cold demeanor only left her feeling more isolated on the boat. “No, of course not,” she shot back sharply. “Did you find out what Peter spiked my friend's drink with?”

  Todd sighed and walked up to the railing beside her. “Peter was not very cooperative,” he explained with a slight shrug. “Are you sure your friend's drink was spiked? I mean even if it was, it might have been someone else on the ship. Unfortunately, some men look for women who aren't paying attention to their drink and take advantage by slipping something inside it.”

  “No, I would have noticed,” Bekki insisted with a frown. “I always keep an eye out for things like that.”

  “Oh right, because your husband is a detective,” Todd nodded as he smirked at her. “You know, even detectives overlook things sometimes.”

  “But I'm not overlooking anything,” Bekki shook her head. “None of it makes sense. It all seems to be suspicious but none of it connects.”

  “Well, that's why I'm the investigator, and you're staying out of the investigation,” Todd said with slightly narrowed eyes. “I mean it. At this point I'm less inclined to believe that Bobby was the killer, which means that we don't even have a suspect in this case. I'm sure that your detective husband would like you to come home without any injuries, so keep quiet about the case and let me figure out what's really going on, okay?”

  Bekki stared at him for a long moment. There were a lot of things going through her mind. Not the least of which was whether she could get away with landing a swift kick to his shin. But she decided against it when she caught onto a key piece of information.

  “Wait, why isn't Bobby your main suspect anymore?” she asked eagerly.

  “Did you miss the part about staying out of the…”

  “Right, right, I will,” Bekki interrupted and waved her hand at him. “Just answer this one last question. Was it because of time of death?”

  “It looks like she was seen alive after the time you and other witnesses claim to have seen Bobby passed out on the bar. So, that would make it pretty impossible for him to be the killer. Unless he was faking his drunkenness, which I find doubtful since he looked only a slight bit worse than your friend did in the salon this morning.”

  “Hmm,” Bekki nodded as she turned back to the railing.

  “Hmm, that's all you have?” Todd asked incredulously.

  “Well, you did tell me to stay out of it,” she reminded him in a clever tone.

  “Yes, I did,” he agreed and with a soft shake of his head he turned and strode back across the deck of the ship.

  Bekki stared back out across the water. She wished more than ever that she could get hold of Nick. After checking her phone one last time for a signal she decided to check in with Sammy. As she was walking towards the cabin they shared, she saw two people standing very close together in a shadowed corner just before the staff quarters. Bekki recognized one as the man whose hair she had cut earlier that day, the one with the bloody tissue. She couldn't tell who the other person was right away because he was standing in the shadows.

  “Carlos, this wasn't supposed to happen like this,” the man in the shadows said with a roughness in his tone. Bekki recognized the name and realized that she was right and it must be the same man that she had overheard in the alley before she boarded the ship, the same man that had the bloody tissue.

  “We shouldn't be together, we shouldn't be talking like this,” Carlos said urgently and glanced over his shoulder. Bekki ducked back against the wall. She flattened herself against it hoping that no one would spot her. As she did she heard the two men arguing more heatedly.

  “Everything's going to be just fine if you pull yourself together,” Carlos was insisting in a threatening tone. “You just stay in your cabin, we'll be docked soon, and then all of this will be over.”

  “You better have my cut,” the man in the shadows grumbled.

  “No one is going to have a cut if we both end up in jail,” Carlos reminded him grimly.

  “Right, I get it,” the hidden man replied with a heavy sigh. “I just don't like how this is going.”

  “That's why it's called taking a risk, buddy, no one ever likes taking a risk, and not everyone comes out of it smelling like roses,” Carlos pointed out. “We need to be very careful if we're going to pull this off. So, no more following me, got it?” he asked with warning in his tone.

  “Got it,” the other man replied reluctantly.

  Bekki strained in an attempt to see who the man in the shadows was. Even though Carlos' words had been very incriminating, she had learned her lesson about misinterpretation earlier, when she had overheard the phone conversation between Peter and his girlfriend.

  Bekki's heart suddenly skipped a beat. If she had overheard a phone conversation on
a cell phone, did that mean that there was service right at that moment, or did it mean that Peter had a better phone company than she did? Or could it possibly mean that he hadn't been talking to his girlfriend back home after all. Bekki was still sorting this in her mind when the two men broke apart. They walked away from each other as if they had no idea who the other was. Bekki shifted forward just a little hoping to get a glimpse of the other man's face. But he walked away too quickly with his back to her. Bekki sighed as she realized that she might just be dealing with a homicide that involved more than one perpetrator. As Bekki waited for the men to be far enough away that she felt safe stepping away from the wall, she recalled Carlos' comments outside the restaurant the morning before the cruise launched. Was he in debt to someone? But as a passenger, how would he be getting money while on the ship?

  Bekki closed her eyes briefly as she replayed the recent events in her mind. Then it struck her. The croupier was the victim. She was under investigation for stealing money. But that money had to get off the ship somehow. Was it possible that she had involved a customer, like Carlos? If that was the case, then it might make sense that Carlos killed her when he felt the investigation was getting too close to him. It would ensure her silence. It sounded like his partner, whoever that was, had not been aware that things might get so messy. As a result there was tension between them. If Carlos hadn't thought twice about killing the croupier, could his partner be next?

  Bekki was determined to discover who his accomplice was. When she opened the door to the cabin she shared with Sammy she heard her friend snoring. Bekki was a little disappointed that she was still asleep. She wanted to bounce some of her ideas off her.

  She sighed as she sat down on her bed. Their fun girls’ trip had turned out to be a big bust. It still infuriated Bekki that Sammy might have been drugged. She checked her watch to find that the dance club should be getting close to closing. At least a good amount of the passengers might be heading back to their cabins. So, she decided to head back to the dance club.

  Chapter Eight

  When Bekki arrived back at the club, she found that it was not nearly as crowded. The flashing lights were still going but the dance floor was fairly empty. Bekki noticed that there was now only one bartender behind the bar. She waited until someone else was walking out through the door, to slip inside.

  As Bekki watched, the bartender began clearing glasses from the tables to help out the wait staff. Bekki took the opportunity to slide behind the bar. Once behind the bar she ducked down and waited, wondering if anyone had noticed her. When she was confident that no one had, she crept towards the hidden door. The button was just above the level of the bar so she knew her hand would be in full view when she pressed it. She peered above the bar briefly, just in time to see the bartender walking straight back towards the bar. Bekki's heart raced. She knew that within seconds the bartender was going to see her and that she would have quite an explanation to give, especially since the cash register was relatively close to her.

  Bekki knew she had to create some kind of diversion to get the bartender to turn away. She grabbed an empty bottle from underneath the bar, and rolled it across the floor so that it struck one of the table legs in the middle of the small seating area. The bartender jumped at the sound of shattering glass, and Bekki winced at how much work she had just made for the bartender to clean up.

  “Great, just great,” the bartender muttered under her breath. “Perfect night to cover Peter's shift. Who did that?” she demanded as she looked around at the sparse sampling of passengers scattered across the dance floor. None responded, but as the bartender continued to mutter under her breath, Bekki shot her hand up and pressed the button to open the hidden door. Luckily there wasn’t a code, and a single depression was enough to get the door to slide open. As soon as it was wide enough for her to fit, Bekki ducked inside. She pushed the button on the inside, and the door slid closed.

  What Bekki hadn't expected was to be plunged into complete darkness inside the storage room. She fumbled around for some kind of light switch, until she realized that if the bartender saw the light underneath the door it might alert her. Bekki moved behind a piles of boxes that from their shape she assumed were filled with bottles of alcohol. If she could remain hidden until after the dance club officially closed then she would have free reign to inspect the storage room and the club itself. Then she might be able to get some clues as to what exactly Peter had put in Sammy's drink.

  Bekki just had to hope that the bartender wouldn't notice her if she had to go to the storage room before closing. As Bekki settled in for the long wait, she began to comb back over the details of what she had learned so far. If Carlos did have some kind of deal going with the croupier to help her steal money, then he did have motive. Maybe he was afraid she would name him during the investigation into financial discrepancies.

  Carlos didn't strike her as the murdering type, but she knew that money and legal issues could cause some people to go to extremes. But as she thought about it, something dawned on her. The morning after the murder Carlos had come in for a haircut. He had asked her to cut it as short as she could. She had noticed his neatly trimmed nails, and yet he was carrying around a bloody rag as if it was a treasure. Was it possible that he was trying to get rid of blood that might have gotten into his hair, or on his nails?

  “Oh no,” she whispered to herself as she realized that by cutting his hair she had helped him get away with the crime. But maybe she was over thinking things because although blood can be difficult to get out from under one’s nails, blood could be easily washed out of hair. Her thoughts were interrupted by the door sliding open.

  “I'm just glad this night is over,” she heard the bartender saying as she set down a few things on a shelf nearby.

  “Well, I appreciate you covering for me,” the other person replied, and Bekki instantly realized that it was Peter.

  “Sure, I had some weird customer in here today, talking about some drink, a Lucky Streak?” the bartender laughed at that. “You'll come up with anything to hit on a chick won't you?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Peter replied dismissively.

  “Well… you can deal with it tomorrow,” the bartender laughed. “I'm out of here. I'm ready for a good night's sleep and a break from all these lights and music.”

  “Have a good night,” Peter called out. Bekki could tell that he was still standing in the storage room, though she had crouched down as low as she could behind the boxes. After a few minutes passed she began to wonder why she hadn't heard his footsteps. Perhaps she was getting too tired and her senses were dulled. Why else would he be standing perfectly still and silent?

  Bekki's shoulders and shins were burning from the crouched position she was sitting in. She wondered if she should peek out to see if he was still standing there. Then she heard the door slide shut. The storage room was plunged back into darkness. Bekki felt a sense of relief, until she realized that she hadn’t heard Peter step out of the storage room. Was he still standing there in the dark? A few more moments passed, so quietly that Bekki's heartbeat seemed to deafen her.

  “So, are you always so interfering,” Peter finally said and she heard his footsteps as he moved a little further into the storage room. Bekki could tell that he was standing right in front of the stack of boxes. Her whole body had grown tense with alarm, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stay in that position for long. Her legs were already trembling.

  “I saw you come in here,” he said grimly. “I've been following you ever since I spotted you spying on Carlos and me earlier. All you had to do was do hair, paint some nails, and make some old hags look young again. Why, oh why, did you have to get so very curious?” he sighed heavily and she knew that he was toying with her.

  Bekki was sure that he was certain she was in the storage room. But what she suspected he didn't know was where she was hiding. She held her breath as she considered her options. He was between her and the door. He was also much taller and st
ronger than she was. Sure she was trained to fight, but that didn't mean that her first choice shouldn't be trying to escape. Especially considering that fighting often got her into more trouble.

  As Peter moved slightly closer to the boxes, Bekki decided it was now or never. She shoved her full weight against the boxes knocking them forward, hoping that they would tumble on top of Peter. In the chaos of the crashing glass and the falling boxes Bekki expected that the shove had been successful. She didn't see that he had lunged out of the way as the boxes tipped. When she jumped over the boxes and tried to reach the button to open the door, he tackled her from behind and pulled her down onto the floor with him.

  “Let go of me!” she growled desperately and tried to wriggle out of his grasp. His strong arms were tight as they held onto her.

  “Don't even think about screaming, this room is soundproof,” he laughed at that and laid a knee into her back, keeping her pinned to the floor. “You know when Carlos first told me that he was concerned about you, I thought he was just being paranoid. He saw you in the casino when Bobby, who was supposed to be the person to take the fall for killing Rose, was throwing his fit. He said you were nosy and too smart for your own good. Are you?” he asked.

  Bekki had stopped moving. She was pretending to be subdued, hoping that he would lessen the pressure on her back.

  “I just wanted to find out what you used to drug my friend,” Bekki insisted innocently. “I don't know anything else.”

  “Sure you don't,” he laughed and stood up. He pulled her up by her arm. Bekki swung her leg in an attempt to knock his feet out from under him, but he planted his weight and stayed upright. His arms encircled Bekki again and he held her still. “Just calm down, Carlos should be here any minute.”

  Bekki's blood ran cold at the mention of Carlos. She suspected that Peter would not be daring enough to actually kill her. But Carlos had already killed once to protect himself. What would stop him from doing it again?