“That seems like a legitimate possibility,” Quinn conceded. “I don’t think we’ll have the answers we’re looking for until I talk to the corporate attorney. In addition to that, I’m waiting to see what happens when Penny loosens her lips and tells the other representatives that the company might fold now that Daphne is dead.”
“Is that true?” Michael was legitimately curious.
Quinn shrugged. “I guess that depends on whether or not there’s a real Daphne DuBois. If the real Daphne and Claire Fisher were working together, that’s one heck of a secret to keep for such a long period of time. If the real Daphne is dead, the company will be left floundering and I doubt it will survive.”
“I’ve been watching the women while taking photos and I don’t think the news has spread yet,” Rowan offered. “When it happens, I’m expecting tears and meltdowns.”
“You need to be careful,” Quinn warned. “Don’t wander off alone with any of these women. One of them might be a killer.”
Rowan’s face was blank as his words set in. “Why would they go after me?”
“Because they know you and I are going after one of them,” Quinn answered without hesitation. “That could scare someone enough to make them act out in unfathomable ways. Speaking of that … .” He licked his lips as he locked gazes with Michael. “We need to skip the port stop tomorrow.”
Michael was flabbergasted by the request. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not. I think that whoever did this might try to escape into a crowded port city. If that happens, someone may very well get away with murder.”
“What am I supposed to tell the guests when they complain about skipping port?” Michael clearly wasn’t happy with the suggestion. “They’re going to go after me. You know I hate it when that happens.”
“What’s more important?” Quinn challenged. “What is corporate going to say if we lose a murderer? This story is going to be all over the news when it hits the mainland. Daphne DuBois – whether real or fake – is well known. The story is going to be all over the place. How is that going to look if we let a killer waltz away?”
“Yes, but we have one killer on this ship,” Michael argued. “We have thousands of innocent passengers. They’re not going to like being punished for something they didn’t do.”
“Then don’t let them think it’s a punishment,” Quinn suggested. “Come up with a reason we can’t stop at port … like a mechanical failure or something. You’re good at thinking up lies, especially when it comes to women. Put your brain to the test now.”
Michael wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t see where we have a choice, but it’s ultimately up to you,” Quinn said. “You can either be the hero or the schmuck. Take your pick.”
“Oh, well, when you put it like that … you suck.” Michael crossed his arms over his chest as he pouted. “I hate being the captain sometimes.”
“That’s why they pay you the big bucks,” Quinn said, grinning as he gripped Rowan’s hand tighter. “I’m sure you can come up with something. You always manage to come through in a pinch and I’m expecting nothing less this time. We only have so much time to work with. We can’t afford to make a mistake.”
16
Sixteen
Rowan spent the rest of the afternoon taking photographs of the Cara G Cosmetics representatives. They were happy, for the most part, frolicking and having a good time with daiquiris and snacks. Rowan almost felt bad knowing things would shift for them, that their pleasant vacations would ultimately evaporate. If she wasn’t so anxious she would’ve dreaded the switchover. Since things slipped from mundane to tedious at some point, though, she was relieved when the whispers began.
It started as furtive looks, a few women bending their heads together as news of Daphne’s death spread. Rowan was impressed that Penny kept her mouth shut as long as she did. Within an hour of the news hitting a small group of big sellers, the gossip spread like wildfire. Before Rowan realized what was happening she was trapped in a sea of pink and the panic was palpable.
“What does this mean?”
Rowan did her best to remain small as she skirted the edge of the group and kept one ear on the conversation. Penny was suddenly the center of attention, the other sellers making a ring around her, and she appeared to be enjoying her moment in the spotlight.
“I’m not sure what it means, Madison,” Penny admitted, lightly running her fingers over the side of the pool lounger as she reclined under the sun. Rowan couldn’t help but notice that the woman had taken enough time out of her day to fix her hair and makeup before changing into a bikini so she could loiter around the pool. It didn’t exactly look as if Penny was prostrate with grief when it came to her boss’s demise. “I’ve got a call into corporate, but they’re understandably reeling.”
Rowan pursed her lips as she regarded the scene. It was a picture in organized chaos. The women whispered to each other in heated tones while also staring at Penny with a newly discovered reverence. Before Penny had been nothing but Daphne’s put-upon assistant. Now she was the woman with answers, the only person in their midst who had any form of power. It was a startling transformation.
“What do you think corporate will say?” The woman Penny referred to as “Madison” seemed to be the designated point person when it came to asking questions.
“They seem to be just as confused as us,” Penny offered. “They didn’t find out Daphne was even dead until I called them. Apparently the security people on this ship aren’t doing their job very well.”
Rowan bristled under the statement but managed to keep her mouth shut. Penny was playing a part, she reminded herself. She wanted to get a reaction out of Rowan, nothing more. Rowan saw no point in giving the woman what she sought.
“How did she die?” This question came from a small redhead who stood to Madison’s right side. She looked agitated rather than worried, which was an interesting shift compared to the other women.
“I’m not really sure,” Penny admitted. “The security guy only said that she was found dead and he believed someone was in her room with her.”
“How do we know it wasn’t him?” A blonde in a purple bikini interjected. “Daphne wanted him from the first moment she saw him and we all know she was chasing him even though he didn’t have any interest in her. Maybe he killed her because she wouldn’t stop grabbing him.”
“I considered that … and even asked,” Penny explained. “Apparently he has an airtight alibi. He was with the ship’s photographer all night.”
Rowan shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable, and tried to ignore the few curious stares that wafted in her direction. If Penny wanted to force her hand, make her stand up for Quinn, she was doing a good job. Rowan was very close to blowing her stack.
“Maybe they’re in it together,” another woman suggested. “Maybe the photographer killed Daphne because she was jealous and the security guy helped her cover it up.”
“I guess that’s a possibility.” Penny smirked as her hardened gaze cut through the crowd and landed on Rowan. “She’s right over there if you want to ask her.”
Rowan swallowed hard when a multitude of eyes latched on to her expressive face. Instead of shrinking, which she was fairly certain Penny wanted, she squared her shoulders and fixed an affable look in place. She wanted to appear approachable if not outright friendly. “You can ask me whatever you want.”
Penny’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t back down. “What did you and Mr. Davenport do last night?”
“We ate dinner and slept.”
“And you’re sure he didn’t get up in the middle of the night to pay Daphne a visit?” Madison challenged.
“I’m sure.” Rowan tilted her head to the side as she focused on Penny. “I couldn’t help but notice that you left the most important part of our earlier discussion out of your retelling.” Two could play this particular devious game and Rowan knew she had the upper hand. “W
hy didn’t you tell them about the potential fraud and what that means for the future of Cara G Cosmetics?”
Penny’s expression turned from innocent to murderous in the blink of an eye. “That’s neither here nor there … .”
“What is she talking about?”
“Yeah, what is she talking about, Penny?” Madison challenged. “She seems pretty calm for a potential murderer and she clearly knows more than you do.”
Penny wasn’t thrilled with the way the woman stared at her and she flicked a piece of invisible lint from her shoulder as she made a clucking sound with her tongue. “They may have mentioned another issue, but I didn’t think it was important enough to bring up now. We’re in mourning, after all.”
“I would rather decide for myself if it’s important,” the redhead said, taking a bold step in Rowan’s direction. “My name is Sadie Markham. I’m the second best seller for Cara G Cosmetics. I would like to know what you know.” She made the announcement as if it should mean something important, but Rowan couldn’t be bothered to care about the hierarchy of sellers.
“Mr. Davenport found some interesting things when he processed the scene earlier this morning,” Rowan supplied. “That includes a set of prints that, when tracked back to the mainland, lead to a grifter named Claire Fisher. That grifter also just so happens to be Daphne DuBois.”
That did it. The new tidbit was enough to tip the women from potential panic to outright horror. They all started talking at once.
“How is that possible?”
“What does that mean for the company?”
“How did no one figure this out before?”
Rowan merely tilted her head to the side as she met Penny’s accusatory gaze. She was practically daring the woman to diminish the importance of Daphne’s real identity. She might try, Rowan realized, but it was too late to put that particular horse back in the barn.
“Everyone needs to calm down,” Penny ordered, scorching Rowan with a dark look as she climbed to her feet. “There’s no reason to panic. We have no idea what’s going to happen yet. We should hope for the best until we know otherwise.”
Apparently the other women felt differently because Penny was soon lost in a sea of angry pink petulance as the sales representatives gestured wildly and demanded answers. Rowan was relaxed when she took a seat at one of the bar tables and signaled the waitress for an iced tea.
The heavy lifting was done. Now she merely needed to watch the fallout.
“THANK YOU for getting in touch with me so quickly.”
Quinn reclined in his desk chair and focused on the computer screen, giving the man who stared back a friendly smile. In truth, Quinn wasn’t overly fond Skype and would’ve preferred a simple phone call. Preston Waters Dickerson III, however, wanted to talk face to face. Quinn didn’t feel as if he had much of a choice if he expected the lawyer to work with him rather than against.
“It’s not a problem,” Dickerson said, tapping his fingers on his desk as he shook his head. “Is it true? Is Daphne DuBois dead?”
“She is,” Quinn confirmed, bobbing his head. “She was discovered by the maid service this morning. The medical examiner is finishing up her autopsy, but it’s believed she was strangled at around two in the morning.”
“Do you have any suspects?”
“Unfortunately we have an entire ship full of suspects … literally.” Quinn licked his lips as he decided how to proceed. “Mr. Dickerson, I have some difficult questions. I understand you can’t get into the nitty-gritty when it comes to the business operations of Cara G Cosmetics, but we’ve made some disturbing discoveries.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the fact that we found a set of fingerprints in Ms. DuBois’ room and they didn’t match anything on our end. That shouldn’t happen. When we ran them, we matched them to the name Claire Fisher. Does that name mean anything to you?”
Dickerson didn’t so much as blink at the name, instead shaking his head as he swished his lips aback and forth. “Should it mean something to me?”
“Well, Claire Fisher was a grifter from Minnesota who basically fell off the map five years ago,” Quinn explained. “She was wanted on an outstanding warrant and absconded before trial. Police have been looking for her ever since.”
“And she’s on your ship? Do you think she’s the murderer?”
“No, sir, we don’t believe she’s a killer,” Quinn replied. “We do believe, however, that she’s our victim.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Dickerson hedged. “I thought Ms. DuBois was the victim.”
“She is.”
“But … .”
“Claire Fisher remade herself into Daphne DuBois,” Quinn explained. It was obvious the attorney had no idea about the switch so Quinn needed to hurry things along. “We believe the transformation would’ve occurred about five years ago, although we don’t have an exact date.”
“But … how is that possible?” Dickerson furrowed his brow as he mulled over the new information. “Daphne DuBois started the Cara G Cosmetics company almost seven years ago. That timeline doesn’t match up.”
“My understanding is that Ms. DuBois didn’t make public appearances when she first started out.”
“No, that’s true, she was something of a homebody.” Dickerson didn’t grasp what Quinn was trying to say. “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”
“Mr. Dickerson, I believe that Claire Fisher either struck a deal with the real Daphne DuBois to pose as the face of the company or that she killed her and took her place.” Quinn opted to be blunt. “I’m not sure which theory I’m leaning toward, but both of them come with their own set of problems.”
“But … no … I hardly see how … that can’t be right.” Dickerson was flustered, his face flushing with color. “You’re saying that the woman I’ve known for the past four years isn’t really Daphne DuBois. That’s what you’re getting at, right?”
“I think that’s the one thing I can say with any certainty,” Quinn confirmed. “We know that someone started the company seven years ago. I do not believe it’s the woman who died on this ship. I couldn’t find any company sales or title transfer records, which leads me to believe they don’t exist.”
“They don’t,” Dickerson volunteered. “Cara G Cosmetics has been owned and operated by the same entity since its inception.”
“And you started four years ago so that would’ve been after the time period when I believe the switch occurred,” Quinn said. “So, my first question is, has anyone been with that company for more than five years? Is anyone there who can honestly say that the Daphne DuBois we found dead in her cabin this morning is the same Daphne DuBois who founded the company seven years ago?”
“I … .” Dickerson worked his mouth, his mind clearly busy. Finally he shook his head and held his hands palms up. “No. I don’t know anyone who has been with this company more than five years.”
“That’s what I feared.” Quinn scratched his cheek as he rolled his neck until it cracked, the sound echoing through his quiet office. “We need to get in touch with local authorities in Missouri. That’s where the real Daphne DuBois set up her company when she started, although I’m not sure if that’s a real name or an alias adopted for business purposes.”
“It’s an alias,” Dickerson offered. “The company was actually started by a woman named Danielle Studebaker. She was the sole proprietor and, yes, she lived in Missouri. I can contact the police and start moving on that.”
“That will help,” Quinn said. “I’ve talked the captain into skipping our port stop tomorrow. I’m worried that whoever killed Claire Fisher will try to run if she gets the chance.”
“How can you be sure it’s a woman?”
“Because I believe our killer had to know our victim and that pretty much rules out random guests on this ship,” Quinn answered without hesitation. “All of the Cara G Cosmetics guests are female.”
“I guess that makes sen
se. What’s your theory? Do you think someone found out this Claire Fisher’s real identity? If so, what is the motivation?”
“Perhaps someone was blackmailing her,” Quinn suggested. “Maybe she was paying this individual off and something happened last night to shift the relationship. We do know that Ms. Fisher was unbelievably drunk earlier in the night. We’re waiting for blood-alcohol levels to be tested and authenticated, but it’s a safe assumption that the victim wasn’t sober when she died.”
“This is just … I have no words.” Dickerson shook his head, dumbfounded. “I’ll call the Missouri police and see if I can find an address or phone number to track down Danielle Studebaker. It might take me some time. I assumed the Daphne DuBois I’d been dealing with was Danielle Studebaker.”
“I understand that,” Quinn said. “I’m not expecting miracles. I would, however, like a direction to move in if at all possible. If you can deal with the Missouri police I’ll keep things in order here. We have two days to figure out who killed Claire Fisher … and why they did it. That’s not a lot of time.”
“No, it’s definitely not. What happens if you don’t solve the case?”
“Then I have to hand it over to Florida authorities when we dock,” Quinn replied. “I don’t want to do that if I can help it. For now, we’re watching the other Cara G Cosmetics women to see if we can find a killer. I’m not sure what else to do.”
“Well, good luck.”
“You, too.”
“I think you’re going to need it more than me,” Dickerson offered. “I’ll be in touch, though. This entire thing is a mess. The company may not survive this.”
“I figured that part out on my own.”
17
Seventeen
Rowan found herself instinctively snapping photographs as the Cara G Cosmetics representatives proceeded to melt down in fantastic fashion on the other side of the deck. She went through two glasses of iced tea while watching, steadily capturing images and internally smirking as she wondered what Daphne would say if she’d lived to see the photographs on sale in the purchase portal.
Murky Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 2) Page 14
