Hattie emerged wearing her now favorite yellow chapeau. Suzy gave her the ‘you are NOT wearing THAT to the pet memorial ceremony’ look and I thought it best to intercede.
“Hattie, dear. I would love to see you wear that little black lace whimsy of yours. It would be so lovely on your snow white hair. And I could lend you my black and white scarf to go with it. What do you say?”
I took Hattie’s elbow and we retreated to the other room. Suzy relaxed a bit and fluffed her curls. Amy was still in a good mood as she came into the room asking for help with the clasp on her necklace.
“Oh that reminds me,” Suzy said. “Girls, don’t forget to wear your remembrance necklaces. We will be showcasing them for others who are interested in remembering their pets in this special way. Any clients we point to Pets Remembered will earn us discounts on any future purchases.”
I was amazed at how coolly Suzy plugged Pets Remembered with a straight face. But when you are devoted to a pet as the Langfords obviously were to Mitchell, I supposed anything is possible. I went to find my necklace with the large green birthstone and a giant “R” etched across it. The necklace in itself was attractive. It was what it contained that gave me the creeps.
Dinner at Oceans Away was nothing to write home about. It probably would have tasted better if I didn’t have cat ashes around my neck and a dread of what was to come.
Suzy and Amy arranged for us to have a private room behind the Sunset Bar for our ceremony. It was when we were making the trek between the dining room and the bar that Hattie spied Jack.
“Well hello there,” Jack aka Jacqueline called out. She was NOT what I imagined. Jack had to be at least 80 years old if a day. She had leather-like skin stretched over a five foot emaciated skeleton. If she had been younger and a super model, I’d have said ‘eat a cookie.’ Somehow Jack didn’t seem the type to take a joke. Her long dyed black hair and that cackle of a laugh created a serious vibe. I don’t think she was the type to mess with.
Hattie smiled and grasped her hand like they were old friends. “Meet my friends, Jack. This is Suzy, Amy, Clara, and Roxy.” Hattie’s innocence may work in our favor.
“Glad to meet you. Private party?” Jack glanced at the sign at the bar.
“Yes. We are having a memorial service,” Hattie volunteered. “You are welcome to come and maybe bring your friends.”
My stomach lurched and I didn’t want to imagine how this would turn out. If Jack realized Hattie’s naiveté then her cover would be blown. I searched my purse for a Pepto Bismal© tablet. The shrimp fettucine was doing the two-step in my belly.
“Thanks all the same, but I have a date with the cabana boy,” Jack smiled and swirled her skirt. “I’ve still got it. By the way, Friends of Dorothy are meeting again tomorrow. Are you coming?”
“Of course,” Hattie replied. “Can I bring my friends?”
I found myself in need of the ladies’ room. This definitely was not on my agenda. Hattie’s innocence seemed to be the crux of our case, but could we keep her ignorant of what was swirling around the rest of us. As Jack sauntered off to her rendezvous, I stared at Clara and Suzy with “help” scrawled across my face. Could tonight get any worse?
~9~
As much as I fear a cheesy memorial, the emcee actually handled the evening’s itinerary with a lot of class. He introduced himself as Dr. Stiles, a veterinarian from the Midwest. The entire Sunset Bar had been converted to a Canines, Cats, and Coffee theme. Pictures of pets were everywhere. The glasses, cups, napkins, and tablecloths carried logos of the pet motif. Someone had laid out a lot of moolah for this benefit.
Dr. Stiles shared that his pet was an Irish setter whose lineage was long as my arm. Evidently, Dr. Stiles was a breeder as well. He along with his wife’s assistance recognized each group with a brief statement and a certificate commemorating the occasion.
Cat Fancy, Cat Café, Doggie Diva, and Canine Cuisine were sponsors who provided goodies bags for all who attended. Plus we could purchase their goods at a discount.
We had a champagne toast and servers came around with trays of canapes, fruit, and desserts. All of us had opportunity to mingle and share what our pet had meant to us. Several mentioned our pet memorial jewelry and even asked Suzy where she had discovered such a wonderful way to encase the ashes of the beloved pet. Suzy dutifully distributed Pets Remembered business cards which she had purchased for this occasion.
Amy and Suzy seemed to be in their element. I was still worried about Jack, the smuggling ring, a potential murderer, and a captain who seemed to have amnesia when convenient.
Hattie kept babbling about meeting Dorothy and her friends. I hadn’t the heart to explain the euphemisms surrounding that. I must have looked strange because Clara came up and suggested we find a seat.
“Are you feeling all right?” Clara asked as we found empty chairs near the bar.
“No I think the heavy meal and tonight’s ceremonies have not mixed well. And the champagne is probably very nice I’m just not used to alcohol especially when combined with this.” I pointed to the emerald necklace which felt like it was cutting off my windpipe.
“Nonsense, Roxy,” Clara remarked. “It’s all in your head.”
“No it isn’t. If I am allergic to cats wouldn’t I also be allergic to cat ashes?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. You’re confusing me on purpose. Do you want to leave?”
“Yes. I want two things: One, I want to take off this pendant. Two, I think we should follow Jack. If she propositioned Hattie, it may be that she does have contacts to a smuggling ring. If so, we need to find out what she knows and more importantly who she knows. Suzy and Amy are too emotional tonight to be of any help. Hattie is in the dark and I want to keep her that way.”
While Clara considered my desires, I wondered if it was possible that the Friends of Dorothy group was being used to disguise covert activity on the ship. Was Jack the smuggler or the agent? Or both? Were others in the group part of the ring? Was Jack capable of murder? Was Hattie in danger? My questions were giving me more than indigestion. The fear of what we might be dealing with was sending signals to my brain like a lightning in a summer storm. If I could talk this over with Tom I would feel so much better. But we were at sea in more ways than one and he was in Times Square having the time of his life.
I sipped my champagne slowly while the pet fanciers made their rounds, shared their stories of loss and comforted one another. They eventually meandered to other parts of the ship to enjoy entertainment elsewhere. When the girls were ready, we went on deck once more to enjoy the moonlight over the water.
Suzy was the first to break the silence.
“Lovely memorial service. Don’t you think?”
Everyone murmured a ‘yes.’ Then more silence.
“Mitchell would have loved the slide show. He was such a ham when we took pictures of him. I think he sensed that he was the star,” Amy chimed in.
They dabbed their faces with lace handkerchiefs. This was no time to discuss what we had just witnessed.
Amy reached for my hand. I looked into her tear-rimmed eyes. Amy circled my waist and whispered, “Roxy. Would you go back to the room with me? I am not feeling well.”
~10~
Every evening Cedric, our personal cabin steward, does his usual turn down complete with towel animals. So far he had treated us to a mouse, a swan, and an unidentifiable species that may have been a pig. We didn’t really care as long as they were accompanied by chocolates. When I slipped my key card into the slot, the lights came up. I expected to see one of the normal towel animals. Fortunately, Amy was searching for something in her handbag and didn’t notice my surprised reaction. I steadied her into the bathroom to change for bed.
Over the sofa in our common area hanging from the light fixture was a monkey made of towels. It wasn’t the usual towel monkey but one with a noose around his neck. His head drooped and if he had had a tongue, it would have been hanging out. When I twirled it a
round I saw the note pinned to his chest:
BACK OFF
What to do? The others would be along soon. Amy was still changing in the bathroom, so I snapped a few pictures with my phone camera and pondered whether to call to security. If this wasn’t a clear threat I didn’t know what was. Someone knew we were onto them and this is a warning. Was it Jack? Captain clueless? Or more than one person?
Clearly, it was someone with access to the cabins. But a world class smuggler could surely duplicate a room key, couldn’t they? Were we getting too close to the murderer?
When Amy came out of the bathroom, she noticed the hanging monkey and shrieked. I got her a glass of water and explained what I thought had happened. We didn’t touch anything but it was impossible not to keep our eyes glued to the monkey effigy.
Did the ship security have access to fingerprint kits and other tricks of the detective trade? Where was Hattie with her spyware when I needed her?
The others came in and it didn’t take but a second to hear a collective gasp. Then we circled up and held a pow-wow to make a decision on what steps to take. Should we act normally as if this didn’t happen? Should we question Cedric or other staff? Should we notify the Captain and security personnel?
Amy took down the monkey and untied the noose around his terry cloth neck. She was visibly shaken. I suggested an Advil PM and bed. She didn’t argue.
Hattie suggested a glass of wine from our hoard provided by the Captain, Bingo winnings, and the Latitudes Club. We double bolted the door. You can never be too careful even in the middle of the ocean it would seem. I thought that Hattie might have something in her cache of spyware, however she didn’t volunteer anything. I think we were all too taken aback to offer any suggestions. This was certainly something to sleep on. If we COULD sleep, that is.
~11~
Nassau, the final port day, arrived. It made me a little sad to think our trip was nearing the end. But with the circumstances surrounding William’s demise, I was a more than anxious to return to the quiet subdued town of Athena. At least if someone gets murdered there, we have a police force to handle it not a few detectives disguised as vacationers. I sounded cranky even to myself. Coffee and companions should help that.
Amy was still shaken by the events of last evening. She determined to stay on board while the rest of us bought souvenirs for our friends at Golden Palms and First Church. We made her promise to double bolt the doors and only order room service.
The gangway on Deck 4 wasn’t crowded this early and the tropical sun was yet to reach its peak. We made our way along the walkway and into the straw market in record time. Hattie stopped at the soap and perfumery booth while Suzy, Clara, and I perused the handmade wooden crafts. I bought a small drum for a grandson, a plane made of a Red Bull can for another, and a few necklaces made from shells. Suzy and Clara were fingering sarongs made from batik cloth. I couldn’t imagine anyone in our age bracket wearing one.
We decided to take a water taxi to Atlantis. Hattie and I had never been to Atlantis. This seemed a golden opportunity. It took some maneuvering to get Hattie and her scooter aboard but the crew was adept. The ride over was delightful with the water taxi host pointing out celebrity homes and points of interest. It was clear Nassau had been at this tourist business a lot longer than any place else we had visited.
The pink towers of Atlantis were picturesque and dominated the view. Within its pastel walls were vendors of high end diamonds, emeralds, and clothing of the highest quality. Hattie was more interested in the casino. Suzy and she went off to make their fortune. Clara and I were window shopping. We were tasked at finding a café with Wi-Fi. We were immediately drawn to the dining area with windows onto the aquarium. What fun to eat and watch the sea life next to our table!
Clara went off to find the maître de’ to make lunch reservations. I was still gazing at the undersea world behind tempered glass when someone nudged my elbow. I looked up at a gentleman wearing large dark glasses and a large Panama hat. He slipped the glasses down for a second. My blood ran cold and I felt faint. It was William!
~12~
He put his fingers to his lips, carefully scanned the surroundings, and whispered, “Meet me in the Emerald Gallery on the 2nd floor in thirty minutes and I will explain everything.”
He slipped away as quietly as he had come. I was still in shock when Clara returned with our reservation details. I quickly donned my sunglasses and tried to appear as if I hadn’t seen a ghost. Which of course I had.
Fortunately, Hattie was chatting away at lunch. Suzy and Clara chimed in with tales of how they haggled in the straw market. I didn’t have to talk much. I let them think that I was fascinated by the view of the sea via the window. Midway through the meal, I faked a coughing spell and excused myself to the ladies’ room. As soon as they were out of sight, I sprinted to the 2nd floor gallery determined to strangle William for causing my friend so much grief.
The Gallery was full of passengers from the various cruise ships docked in the harbor. William’s Panama hat had a multicolored headband so it was hard to miss. Since his demise he had the beginnings of a mustache and sported a scruffy beard. He signaled from the back of the store. A door marked “staff” opened for us. It was a storeroom/lounge for the employees with tables and a few odd chairs. William took my elbow and steered me to the nearest one.
“I don’t know whether to hug you or slap you,” I said.
William smiled. “I know. But I couldn’t risk letting anyone in on our little scheme.”
“Our scheme? Don’t you realize that you broke Amy’s heart? She’s aboard right now because of all the bad things that have happened on this trip.”
“I’m truly sorry. I really do care for Amy, but this plan was put into motion long before I ever met any of you. No one was supposed to get hurt, except of course the smugglers. We heard that Hattie infiltrated the group so now it’s up to you to get the evidence we need to put them out of business for good.”
“I don’t see how. Hattie is oblivious to this ‘Jack’ person who offered her black coral jewelry. And even if they didn’t murder you, they are still dangerous aren’t they?”
“Indeed. And with my death, we hoped to put them at odds with one another arguing over who crossed the line and murdered the detective in disguise.”
I mulled over what he had said.
“How did you know that Clara and I would investigate and not just pretend nothing unusual happened?”
“I went to school with Clara, remember? She has always been a top journalist. Just because it’s been a few years, I knew she couldn’t resist a mystery especially if it landed in her lap.”
“So you orchestrated that we find the articles, clippings, and brochures so that we would dig deeper. Very nice. You dangled the mystery carrot and we couldn’t resist.”
“I had confidence that you would figure it out, especially after Amy told me all about Mitchell and the trouble you went to at Golden Palms to catch the guilty party.”
“What’s your plan? I have to get back before the others get suspicious.”
“It’s all on this.”
William pulled a USB thumb drive out of his pocket.
“When you get some privacy, share this with Clara and possibly, Suzy. Meanwhile I will let Captain Benedict know that we’ve met up. I am living in the employee quarters for now. I have to lay low until we get proof of the smugglers’ identities. We need solid evidence to arrest them and press charges. But above all, keep your eyes peeled. This ‘Jack’ character is the upfront person. She’s loud and attracts attention, but the real head of the organization will be on the sidelines. Don’t be surprised if the actual boss is low key and seemingly innocent.”
On my return I did go to the ladies’ room just to pull myself together and splash cold water on my flushed cheeks. The Captain was a better actor than I gave him credit for. I couldn’t help but think ‘hell hath no fury than when Amy finds out the truth.’ Of course he DID say that his affe
ction was real. I guess that was one thing William didn’t figure on.
I rejoined the group who were deciding on dessert. I passed and ordered a cappuccino instead. We did a mental checklist to make sure we had souvenirs for everyone at Golden Palms. Hattie was keen to get something special for Elvira, her new roomie. So of course we left Atlantis with more baggage than we came with. But everyone seemed happy. I was anxious to get to a computer and discover the “plan.”
They scanned our purchases and totes as we entered the gangway and confiscated the rum Hattie had purchased. I warned her about buying local liquor, but in typical Hattie fashion she disregarded my advice.
Back in the stateroom, all seemed quiet. Amy had evidently ordered room service for lunch and left the room. Cedric hadn’t picked up her tray yet. She taped a note on the mirror: Gone to the spa. That was a wonderful idea. Amy needed to treat herself. This cruise had not gone as planned for her or any of us for that matter.
Suzy, Clara, and Hattie were clearly tired after the water taxis and our trek through Atlantis. They decided on a nap from our little adventure. This was my opportunity to locate the internet café to have a look at what William and his conspirators had planned. On my way, I couldn’t help but wonder how five small town senior citizens get into so much mischief when they are supposed to be on holiday. It boggles the mind.
~13~
When I opened the file, the narrator cautioned me to use ear phones and shield the contents. The Internet Café has just so many choices but I moved to the back wall and inserted my ear plugs. I understood why when pictures began appearing on the computer screen. The thumbnails were ‘persons of interest’ in the smuggling trade. ‘Jack’ was prominent as was another woman I had observed at the Latitudes’ mixer. Another face was vaguely familiar. It was Filipino perhaps one of the crew?
Thursday Club Mysteries: All 7 stories Page 11
