Savannah opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, but something in her brother’s eyes warned her not to. Apparently, this wasn’t the time. But Savannah was determined to find an appropriate time. Soon.
With his sharp green eyes that missed nothing, Ryan had seen the exchange. As though intending to change the subject, he said, “What did you and Dirk do last night after we split up?”
Savannah didn’t dare look at her husband. She was fairly certain that if she did he would burst into giggles, possibly guffaws.
That was the last thing she needed first thing in the morning.
“We walked around the ship,” she offered, too quickly. “Got acquainted with the layout. Checked out any potentially dangerous areas, suspicious people, et cetera, et cetera.”
Even she could hear the overly flippant, blatantly false tone in her voice. Ryan looked at John. They both looked at Dirk. She looked at Dirk and realized that he was going to start tittering at any moment.
A sexy smirk played across Ryan’s handsome face. “Yes, I believe that, considering the lack of security cameras on board this ship, a couple could ‘et cetera, et cetera’ pretty much anywhere they wanted.”
“Except for the shops,” John said, “and the bars, and the casino. But those areas are probably a bit too crowded anyway.”
Granny put down her fork and gave them all disapproving looks. “I wasn’t exactly following what y’all were saying, because I was payin’ close attention to my bacon and eggs. But I think you were talking dirty, and I don’t allow such stuff at the breakfast table. There’s a time and a place for such rigmarole, but this ain’t it.”
The caffeine was beginning to hit Savannah’s bloodstream, making her feel just a bit feisty. She grinned at her grandmother and nudged her with her elbow. “So, Granny, exactly where is the time and place for rigmarole?”
Gran demurely dabbed her lips with her napkin and replied, “Apparently, anytime and anywhere there ain’t no cameras.”
Chapter 9
As Savannah and Dirk walked down the hallway that led to Natasha Van Cleef’s luxury suite, he said, “I thought she told you she didn’t want to see our mugs until afternoon at the earliest.”
Savannah glanced at her watch. “It’s five minutes until twelve. That means that in six minutes it’ll be afternoon. Close enough. Yesterday, she was pretty tight lipped about her itinerary. I want to know, once and for all, what her schedule is. How else are we going to protect her if we don’t even know where the heck she is?”
As they neared the suite, Savannah glanced to their left where, looking over the balcony, she could see the multistoried atrium lobby. More specifically she could see passengers leaving the ship and heading ashore for an afternoon of shopping and sightseeing.
Most of the passengers had already left earlier in the morning. These were the stragglers, disembarking with the day already half gone.
She was beginning to wonder if she or any of her own entourage would be able to go ashore, or would they have to be content enjoying Alaska’s magnificent natural beauty with their noses pressed to the ship’s windows.
When she and Dirk rounded the final curve and were twenty feet or so from the penthouse suite’s door, they found they weren’t the only ones who had come to conduct business with the Van Cleefs.
The butler, Sooyung, was standing with her back to Savannah and Dirk, and she was knocking quite vigorously on the door.
“Hello, again,” Savannah greeted her. “How are you this fine day?”
Sooyung jumped and whirled around, a look of deep concern on her pretty face. “Good morning, Ms. Reid, Detective Coulter,” she said. “I’m relieved to see you. I’m worried about our guests.”
“Who?” Dirk snapped. “Mr. and Mrs. Van Cleef?”
Sooyung nodded and pointed to the privacy sign hanging on the door. “I’m not really supposed to bother them when the sign indicates that they want to be left alone. But I’m beginning to wonder if something’s wrong.”
Savannah felt her heart start to race and her face flush with heat. No. No, she thought. They’re okay. They are. There has to be a simple explanation.
“Tell me why you’re worried, Sooyung. What’s going on?” Savannah asked, trying to sound far more calm than she felt.
“A couple of things,” Sooyung replied. “First of all, they asked to be served breakfast at eight-thirty sharp. They had chosen a particularly lovely meal, and our executive chef spent a lot of time personally preparing it for them. But when the waiters and I brought it up, the privacy sign was still on the door. I knocked, but they didn’t answer. So we left, thinking they would call when they were ready to eat.”
“That doesn’t sound all that bad,” Dirk said, using his seen it all, hard to impress, cop persona.
“But there’s something else,” Sooyung told him. “Ms. Van Cleef had ordered an in-room massage. She was quite adamant about having one. Yesterday, as soon as she boarded, the first thing she did was have me schedule it for her.”
“I can understand a woman being passionate about a massage,” Savannah said. “They certainly are one of life’s pleasures.”
“Precisely. Also, she was very particular about who was going to give it to her—someone who had experience with deep tissue massage and acupressure. She appeared to be really looking forward to it,” Sooyung explained. “But when the therapist arrived, the privacy sign was still up. When he knocked no one answered for him either.”
Savannah gave Dirk a quick glance and saw that he, too, was becoming concerned.
“What time was that?” Savannah asked.
“Shortly before ten. The appointment was for ten o’clock.”
Dirk hurried to the door and jiggled the doorknob, though no one present expected it to open.
“Can you get us in there?” he asked.
Sooyung nodded, but looked unhappy at the prospect. “I can. I’m not really supposed to. Perhaps I should call the chief security guard.”
Considering the way Savannah and Dirk had locked horns with that particular fellow before over the manifest, Savannah wasn’t excited about drawing the ship’s head of security into the situation.
“Let’s don’t bother him,” she said offhandedly. “Let’s check inside the suite and just see what’s going on. We don’t want to call him down for no reason.”
Sooyung thought it over. “It is a busy time for the security guards, with passengers leaving and returning to the ship and going through the checkpoints.”
Reluctantly she walked to the door, pulled a key card from her pocket, and unlocked the door. To Savannah’s surprise, the butler stood aside and allowed her and Dirk to enter first.
Savannah steeled herself for whatever she might find inside the luxury rooms. But as she hurried from the living and dining areas into the bedroom and then back out onto the veranda, she saw no signs of violence.
She also saw no signs of the Van Cleefs or Olive.
“So far, so good,” Dirk said, speaking her thoughts aloud. “No overturned, broken furniture. No dead bodies.”
She gave him a quick, moderately perturbed look. Sometimes she preferred that her scariest thoughts remained inside her head. Having them uttered frequently made a bad situation seem even worse.
But was this a bad situation?
She couldn’t tell for sure.
Savannah turned to Sooyung. The butler looked as relieved as Savannah felt.
“I guess I was worried for nothing,” Sooyung said a bit sheepishly. “Apparently, they’re okay. They just stepped out or whatever.”
Dirk was standing by the glass door, perusing the vacant veranda. “Or somebody tossed them overboard,” he said.
Savannah looked around for the nearest nonbreakable or least valuable objet d’art to smack him with.
“Maybe they’re just downstairs at the breakfast buffet,” she offered, though the words sounded ridiculous even to her.
He gave her his most condescending look. “Yeah, r
ight. They order a gourmet breakfast, prepared by the executive chef, and then they head for the lido deck to sample the common swill.”
“Okay, okay.” She searched her brain for a more plausible explanation. “All three of them left the ship first thing this morning to do some sightseeing.”
Again, Dirk had a less than comforting response. “Right. They wanted to go slide down some glaciers and eat some bear burgers. They decided to go on this little excursion without a single member of the private security detail they’re paying a bundle for.”
“The day after Ms. Van Cleef receives another death threat,” Sooyung added.
Savannah wouldn’t accept any of it. Logical or not, her mind wasn’t ready to go there yet.
Instead, she walked around the suite, taking in the simple, everyday details the occupants had left behind.
One empty glass sat on the bar. It appeared to have held water. Looking closely, Savannah could see a light shade of lipstick on its rim. She recalled that Natasha Van Cleef wore a nearly nude lip gloss. Her personal assistant, a strange shade of orange.
Nearby, the coffeepot was full. But when Savannah touched it with her fingertip, it was cool. “Did you fill and set this coffeepot?” she asked Sooyung.
“Yes, I did. Last night.”
“What time was it scheduled to brew?”
“Eight-fifteen.”
“Did someone give you that time?”
“Yes. Ms. Van Cleef told me that’s when they would want it.”
Dirk had joined them in the bar area. “Apparently, they don’t take their coffee as seriously as we do. Three people and nobody drank a single cup.”
“Or maybe they left in a hurry,” Savannah suggested.
She walked from the bar to the living room. Nothing was amiss. The space was as pristine as it had been yesterday.
“I’ll search the veranda,” Dirk said. “You know, check for scuff marks on the railings.”
Savannah gave him a quick glance to see if he was teasing. The gleam in his eye told her that he was. Though she was sure that he was as concerned as she was.
This set of circumstances didn’t make sense on several levels.
When things didn’t add up, there was usually a reason. In a situation where death threats had been made, the reason was seldom a good one.
As Dirk walked past her, heading for the door, his hand lightly brushed her arm in a brief but comforting gesture. “Try not to worry, Van,” he told her. “It ain’t bad news until—”
“Until it’s bad news,” she supplied.
“Exactly.”
He walked out onto the veranda with Sooyung following close behind. It occurred to Savannah that perhaps she, too, was worried about that “over the railing” possibility.
Don’t trouble trouble till trouble troubles you, she told herself, quoting one of Gran’s favorite sayings.
Entering the bedroom, she looked around, registering every detail. The rumpled bed had been slept in. Both sides. The armoire doors were half open. Savannah opened them further and looked inside. Two thick, white, terry robes, no doubt supplied by the ship, hung on hooks mounted to the doors. Both looked as though they had been worn. A woman’s and a man’s garments were neatly arranged on hangers and folded on shelves.
Savannah recalled having heard that butlers unpacked for the passengers in luxury suites. It appeared that Sooyung was good at her job.
Savannah walked over to the dressing table and noted that Natasha’s makeup items were still arranged in the same manner as they had been yesterday. Most were inside the open ostrich skin case, and a few items, like her brushes and an eyebrow comb, stood in a small, marble vase.
“If she’s gone,” Savannah whispered to herself, “she intends to come back.”
Any time a female went missing, Savannah always looked for the makeup stash. A woman might leave her husband, her kids, her jewelry, and maybe even her money behind, but if she was leaving for good, she always took her makeup.
A search of the bathroom yielded nothing of any interest either. A fine travel bag hung from a hook on the back of the door. Unrolled, it featured numerous see-through, zipped pockets that contained the standard toiletries that a man and woman would use on vacation: toothpaste, deodorant, body lotion, sunscreen, and a small box of motion sickness medicine.
She couldn’t help noticing the hemorrhoid ointment and the vaginal cream.
Definitely more information than she needed about her favorite author.
Turning to leave the room, she happened to glance down and saw something familiar in the waste can.
It was a sheet of paper.
White copy paper.
Grabbing a tissue from a dispenser on the counter, she reached down and used it to avoid touching the paper with her fingers as she pulled it by its corner from the can.
Of course, it was just standard paper. But it was folded a certain way. In thirds, like a regular letter going into a number ten business envelope, and then folded in half.
She had seen that pattern before. Recently, in fact.
“Whatcha got there?” Dirk asked, stepping into the room.
She held it up to his eye level, so he could see.
“What’s that?” he asked. “I thought you took that back to our room yesterday. Didn’t you tell me you put it in a plastic bag and stuck it in that little safe there in our closet?”
“I did,” she said.
“Then how . . . ?”
He shot her a look that was as unsettling as the thoughts running through her brain.
With the use of a second tissue, she managed to unfold the paper.
“What does it say?” he wanted to know, leaning over her shoulder.
“Excuse me,” said a soft female voice just outside the door. “Did you find something?”
“Hold on, Sooyung,” Savannah called out. “We’ll be out in a minute.”
“Yeah. Just keep looking around if you don’t mind,” Dirk said as he gently pushed the door closed. “You might find something important.”
Savannah unfolded the sheet of paper and held it up so they could both read the now familiar format of few words, printed in a common font with a terrible and uncommon message:
I have her. She’s alive. For now. Meet me and I’ll let her live. Don’t, she dies.
“Damn,” she whispered.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Somebody’s in trouble. Bad trouble.”
“Natasha?”
Savannah shrugged. “Maybe Olive. But probably Natasha.”
He thought for a moment, then said, “The coffee that was brewed at eight-fifteen wasn’t touched.”
“Plus they didn’t answer the door at eight-thirty or ten.”
“They probably got this bright and early this morning.”
Savannah looked at her watch. “It’s now after twelve.”
“That’s four hours.”
“At least.”
His eyes searched hers. “Do you think we’re too late?” he asked, his face as somber as she had ever seen it.
“It ain’t bad news till it’s bad news,” she told him.
And herself.
Neither believed her.
Chapter 10
The day before, when Savannah and Dirk had attempted to weasel a copy of the passenger manifest out of Chief Security Guard Poole, she had thought him a condescending, dismissive jerk. He also had a prominent wart on the end of his nose that had two shockingly long, black hairs growing out of it.
If he had been a pleasant fellow, she probably wouldn’t have held that against him.
Nobody was perfect.
But since he had not deigned to give them two minutes of his time or even a smidgen of professional courtesy, she heartily disliked Poole. She couldn’t stand his wart, and she positively loathed the hairs. Both of them, but the one on the right the most because it was longest.
When he addressed her, regarding the missing passengers, he lif
ted that nose at least two notches and said, “Ms. Reid, Detective Coulter, if you can’t keep track of your charges, that really isn’t my problem. If you’ll excuse me, I have duties to attend to.”
He started to walk away, leaving them alone next to the fountain in the atrium. But Savannah grabbed the sleeve of his crisp, white uniform. “Excuse me, sir,” she said in a low, menacing voice, “but you need to know that if anything happens to Natasha Van Cleef, it’s going to be on the evening news all over the world. When I speak to reporters, and I will, I’ll be sure to tell them that we tried to help her, but received absolutely no help whatsoever from the security staff on this ship. Specifically no help at all from you, sir. I’ll tell them that you were as helpful as a trapdoor in a canoe.”
Poole glanced over at Dirk, who gave him a solemn nod and said, “She will. I guarantee you. That’s exactly what she’ll tell them. She’ll even make sure that the reporters spell your name right.”
Savannah jostled his sleeve. “I have a vindictive streak a mile wide,” she told him with a smile that was slightly maniacal. “If something awful happens to Natasha Van Cleef, and I couldn’t get to her and help her in time, it’ll be on your head.”
At that moment, they were joined by another man whose name tag identified him as Allan Martell, the cruise director. Tall and blond with a shaving commercial chin, he was as handsome as Poole was homely. Unlike the chief security guard, he looked more than concerned. The expression on his face was full-fledged alarm.
“Excuse me,” he said to Savannah, “but I couldn’t help overhearing you suggest that something bad may have happened to Ms. Van Cleef. Is that true?”
Savannah gave him her warmest Southern smile. Allies appeared to be few and far between at the moment, so she figured it couldn’t hurt to butter this one up from the outset. “I certainly hope not, sir,” she told him. “But we have reason to believe she might be the victim of foul play. Possibly her husband and personal assistant, too.”
Dirk had already removed his badge from his inside jacket pocket. He waved it under the cruise director’s nose. “I’m Detective Sergeant Dirk Coulter, and this is my wife, Savannah Reid. We were hired by the Van Cleefs to provide additional personal protection for them on this cruise. Now they’ve gone missing, and we’re attempting to get a little help from the good chief here.”
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