“You’re drunk,” Herbert said flatly.
Fletcher waved his hands around. “We’re on a boat. It’s not like I’m going to get in a car and drive drunk.” He nodded toward the VIP Room. “Why don’t you go play poker?”
“You know I don’t gamble.”
“You don’t gamble, you don’t drink, you don’t do anything except cost the company millions.” Fletcher lurched toward Herbert. “You haven’t been pulling your weight for a long time. If we don’t get these guys to invest and close this deal, something is going to have to change.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Fletcher. Something is going to change,” Herbert said darkly.
“Good, we’re in agreement for once.”
Herbert took a deep breath. “Fine, I give up. We’ll talk more tomorrow when you’re sober.”
The waitress bustled over and handed Fletcher his drink. He downed it, then glared at her. “This doesn’t taste right. Bring me another one.” She simply nodded, then scurried off.
Herbert narrowed his eyes as he watched the exchange. Leaning forward, he said quietly, “Listen, buddy, this time, I won’t be so understanding. Make sure that the money you lose tonight is yours, and only yours.”
* * *
I watched as Fletcher continued to place chips on the table and stare in disappointment when he didn’t win. I wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on things. Dominic was perched on a stool, carefully observing the action at the craps table. When Fletcher reached into the bucket and realized it was empty, he made eye contact with Dominic. Some sort of unspoken agreement seemed to have been reached. Fletcher shuffled over to Dominic and handed him his car keys. In exchange, Dominic handed him a wad of bills, which Fletcher promptly exchanged for chips.
Realizing that almost a half hour had passed, and Scooter still hadn’t returned, I decided to leave Fletcher to his own devices. Watching him wasn’t going to make a difference. The man was bound and determined to gamble, drink, and insult everyone that crossed his path. More power to the jerk, I thought as I left the casino.
Scooter wasn’t in our cabin, although I did find his stained shirt crumpled up in the bathroom sink. Next, I peeked into the theater. Maybe Scooter had thought that I had braved the magic show again. The lighting was dim, so I couldn’t see who was in the audience. I glanced at the stage and saw a magician wearing a red cape with black spots. He waved a wand in circles while he recited some sort of incantation. I gasped when I saw the black spots on his cape move. Realizing that the spots were in fact tarantulas, I fled.
Wishing our cell phones had coverage while at sea so I could text Scooter, I made my way back toward the casino. He was probably there looking for me while I was looking for him everywhere else. As I walked through the lounge, I spotted Ned and Nancy having a nightcap.
“Have you seen Scooter?” I asked.
“No,” Ned said. “Where did you last see him?”
After I explained how Scooter had gone back to our cabin to change his shirt, Nancy pursed her lips. “I thought you were the klutzy one.”
“Scooter didn’t spill the drink. It was Herbert’s business partner, Fletcher. He’s drunk as a skunk.”
“Some people go overboard when they’re on vacation,” Ned said.
“It’s not really a vacation,” I reminded them. “Fletcher and Herbert are here to drum up business. I thought I had Scooter convinced that investing was a bad idea, but he seems to be wavering again.”
“There’s always the marina,” Ned joked.
“Don’t be silly. They’re not going to buy the marina.” Nancy looked at me. “Are you sure it was Fletcher you saw drinking?”
“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve met him.”
“I thought Herbert told us that his business partner didn’t drink,” Nancy said to Ned.
Ned shrugged. “Maybe they have another partner?”
“Or, more likely, this Fletcher fellow is an alcoholic and fell off the wagon,” she said. “That sounds like a certain someone who works at the library.”
“Do you mean Hudson?” I asked.
Nancy’s eyes widened. “What? No, our nephew isn’t an alcoholic. Although, I’d understand if he had turned to the bottle after what he’s been through.”
I frowned. “What happened to him?”
Ned and Nancy exchanged glances.
“I guess it was before you moved to Coconut Cove,” Ned said after a pause. He reached over and squeezed Nancy’s hand before continuing. “Hudson’s wife died in childbirth.”
“And the baby?” I asked tentatively.
“It was a boy,” Nancy said, her voice cracking. “He didn’t make it either.”
I put my hand over my mouth. That poor man. To lose your wife and child—was there anything more heartbreaking?
“It was hard on the entire family. My sister was over the moon that her first grandchild was on the way, then . . .” Nancy stared at her brandy as her voice trailed off.
Ned attempted to change the subject. “The person at the library who has an addiction issue is the custodian. He was in a terrible car accident and got hooked on painkillers. He’s been through rehab and is clean now. Knock on wood it stays that way.”
“Makes me glad the only thing I’m addicted to is chocolate,” I said.
“Sugar can cause serious health problems,” Ned said. “Maybe you should think about cutting back.” He smiled when he saw the expression on my face. “Just a little.”
“Maybe, but not until after the Daltons’ wedding,” I said. “I can’t very well skip sampling their wedding cake, especially if Penelope is making it.”
“Have they set a date yet?” Ned asked.
“No, they’re still trying to decide on a venue. I told Anabel I’d check out this cruise ship as an option. I sent her some pictures before we left port, but I don’t really think it’s for her.”
“Isn’t her bachelorette party this weekend?” Nancy asked. “Why would she schedule it now before they pick a date for the wedding?”
“With the holidays coming up, she thought it made more sense to have it now.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about the party though. The Tipsy Pirate shut down and I need to find another venue. That’s why I didn’t want to go on this cruise. I have too much to do.”
“Maybe Nancy could help you,” Ned said. “She’s great at organizing things.”
Both Nancy and I blanched. I think the last thing either of us wanted was to work together planning a party. Fortunately, I was spared from having to come up with a polite way to say no.
“Gotta scram,” I said as I spotted Scooter on the opposite side of the lounge.
* * *
Scooter marched through the lounge and out on to the deck before I could catch up with him. He was walking down the stairs to the deck below and I followed in close pursuit.
When I got to the bottom step, the only people I saw were a young couple locked in a passionate embrace. I paused for a moment, breathing in the salt air. As the cruise ship slipped through the water, I pictured what it might be like when Scooter and I sailed for the first time to the Bahamas.
Not sure which direction my husband had gone in, I left the decision up to my intuition. It told me to take a left turn toward the stern. Rounding the corner, I saw Scooter leaning against the rail, staring glumly at the water.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” I asked gently. “I was getting worried.”
“Hey, Mollie,” he said without glancing at me.
“Mollie, huh? Should I be concerned that you’re using my proper name? What happened to all your pet names for me? What was the one you called me last week? My little agave?”
He gave me a faint smile. “That was only because we were drinking margaritas made with agave syrup.”
“Do you want to go to the bar and get one?”
He shook his head. “I’d rather stay here.”
“What’s going on?�
�� I placed my hand on his. “There’s obviously something bothering you.”
Scooter sighed. “I feel like a fool.”
“A fool? What are you talking about? You’re the smartest guy I know.”
“Yeah, right. So smart that I almost invested our life savings in Fletcher’s business venture.”
“But you didn’t, and that’s the important thing.”
He pushed himself off the railing and paced back and forth. “Don’t you see? After talking with Anthony this evening, I was convinced that it was a good investment. I almost got suckered in again.”
“Something must have happened between now and then,” I said.
“When I went to our cabin, I found an envelope which had been slipped under our door. I opened it, thinking it was for us, but it was really for Fletcher.”
“How did it end up in our cabin?”
“Fletcher made the booking. Maybe there was a mix-up and his name is in the system instead of ours. Anyway, that’s not the important thing. What’s important now is that I know this so-called investment opportunity is a scam. We would have lost everything.”
“Is it some sort of Ponzi scheme?”
“No, nothing like that. Look, it’s too complicated to explain right now—”
I grabbed Scooter’s arm to stop his pacing. Standing on my tiptoes, I put my hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look in my eyes. “Ah, it’s complicated. See, you are a smart guy. You understand complicated things.”
Scooter pulled away, then shook his head. “No, if I was smart, I would have figured it out from the start. I was so excited about the possibility of doubling, even tripling our money, that I was easily duped. I was blinded by the fact that I want us to have a considerable nest egg. If we do want to sail around the world, then we wouldn’t have to worry about going back to work. We could just do it.”
“Look, I know I’m not pulling my weight financially, but—”
“No, it’s not that at all. You’re passionate about what you do. It doesn’t matter how much you make. And that’s the point. It shouldn’t be about money. It should be about enjoying what we do. I just got taken in by Fletcher’s smooth talk and sales pitch. I got greedy and lost sight of the fact that we’re so much better off than most people in the world.”
“That’s for sure,” I agreed. “There are so many homeless people. We’re fortunate to have a roof over our head.”
Scooter smiled. “One that floats in the water and can go in any direction we want to point her to.”
“And plenty of food to eat.” I patted my belly. “Do you think I need to lose weight? Should I cut back on my chocolate intake?”
Scooter laughed. “There’s no way you’re going to get me to respond to that question. No married man with any sense would ever answer that.”
“See, not only are you smart, but you’re also sensible.”
“You know you’re my best girl, don’t you?” Scooter pulled me into his arms. As he lowered his head to kiss me, a loud voice on the deck above us spoiled the romantic moment.
“Maybe we should go someplace quieter,” Scooter suggested.
“Shush,” I whispered. “Doesn’t that sound like Fletcher?”
“You’re never going to get what you want,” the man said, slurring his words. “Never.”
“Yep, that’s Fletcher,” Scooter said.
Someone responded to Fletcher, but their voice was muffled.
Fletcher’s response came in loud and clear, though. “What are you doing?” he shrieked.
I leaned back against the railing and peered upward, trying to see what was happening on the deck above us. A man was silhouetted in the moonlight, holding his arms up in what looked like a defensive posture.
I pulled Scooter back so that we wouldn’t be seen. Then I heard a grating noise, like metal rubbing against something. That was followed by a piercing scream. When I saw a body hurl past us into the ocean, I gasped. “I think Fletcher has gone overboard.”
5
Man Overboard!
By the time one of the ship’s officers had finished questioning us about Fletcher’s death, the moon had set. Not that anyone officially confirmed that Fletcher had died mind you, but I had overheard one of the crew members saying that the chance of surviving something like that was extremely low.
While I went back to our cabin to try to get some shut eye before the sun came up, Scooter headed to the restaurant in search of coffee. He didn’t seem upset from having seen someone plummet past us to their probable death. I think I was more in shock than he was, and a large part of my shock was that he wasn’t more upset than me. That strange calming ritual of his appeared to really do the trick. He even refused the chocolate I offered him, telling me that I probably needed it more than him.
I was so frazzled after what had happened, that I wondered if tugging on my earlobes, pressing my fingers on the sides of my nose, and doing breathing exercises might help me as well. Once I crawled into bed, I tried it. The only effect it had was to cause me to cry out in pain when I almost yanked one of my earrings out of my ear.
After tossing and turning for what seemed like ages, I gave up and went in search of Scooter. As I was walking through the lounge, I saw Anthony and Madison. He was leaning against a wall, his arms folded across his chest. Madison was curled in a ball on a nearby couch, clutching a box of tissues in her hands.
“How’s Sylvia?” I asked.
Madison looked up at me, her large eyes still stunning despite the mascara smudged underneath them. “They’ve locked her up and won’t let us talk to her.”
“Locked her up?” I asked.
“Madison is exaggerating,” Anthony said. “My aunt is with the captain.”
“I’m not exaggerating,” Madison huffed. “She’s been in his office for hours. Those two goons guarding the door won’t let us in.”
“You’re overstating things as usual. It hasn’t been hours.” Anthony looked at his watch. “Uncle Fletcher fell overboard before midnight. It’s . . . oh, I guess she has been in there for hours.”
Madison wailed, yanking several tissues out of the box. For someone who seemed to have had a bitter relationship with Fletcher, she was awfully devastated by his demise.
I picked up a tissue which had fallen on the floor, then looked at Anthony. “You’re her nephew. Shouldn’t you be allowed to be with her?”
“That’s what I said.” Madison dabbed her eyes. “Sylvia shouldn’t be alone at a time like this. She needs her family with her.”
Anthony clenched his fists. “Don’t you think I know that? I tried.”
“Well, try harder.” Madison had a hard edge to her voice.
“Why don’t I see what I can do?” I suggested, eager to get away from the tension that was bubbling up between the two of them. “If you see Scooter, can you tell him where I’ve gone?”
When I reached the captain’s office, I gulped. The two crewmen standing in front of the door looked like they could give Dominic a run for his money in the weightlifting department. The one to my right had a rigid stance and buzz cut. Perhaps he was ex-military. The other man had a more relaxed posture and sported a goatee.
The man with the buzz cut stepped forward. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Yes, you can open the door, please.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that.”
“Of course, you can,” I said. “Look at those muscular arms of yours. How much can you bench press?”
He puffed up his chest. “Three hundred pounds.”
“So, pushing that door open would be like child’s play to you.”
The man with the goatee snickered. “Three hundred pounds? Give me a break. You’d be lucky to manage one-fifty.”
Buzz cut guy glared at him. “Watch it, buddy.”
“Hey, easy there, fellows. There’s a simple way to settle this.” I pointed at a marble statue of Poseidon standing across from the entrance to the captain’s offic
e. “How much do you think that weighs?”
The two of them sized it up. “I dunno,” buzz cut guy said. “A lot.”
“Could you lift it over your head?”
“Piece of cake.” He removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and cracked his neck.
As he walked toward the statue, I turned to goatee guy. “Shouldn’t you spot him?” The question seemed to stump him. “Safety first, right?”
That spurred him into action. While the two hulking men tried to figure out the best way to grip Poseidon—his trident kept getting in the way—I started to pull the door to the captain’s office open. The squeaking noise of the hinges alerted the guys.
Goatee guy rushed over, pushing the door closed. “What are you doing? You can’t go in there.”
I wracked my brain for another ruse. These two were marginally smarter than I had assumed. Whipping my FAROUT badge out of my purse, I said, “I’m here on official business related to the death of Fletcher Tolliver.”
“What kind of badge is that?” he asked.
Before he could grab it in his beefy hands, I snapped the badge holder shut. If he saw the spaceship logo and I admitted that my credentials consisted of being an investigative reporter for the Federation of Alien Research, Outreach, and UFO Tracking, he might ask questions.
“The kind that can get you into big trouble if you’re not careful. Now are you going to open the door for me, or should I contact my superior officer?”
He took a step back, clearly intimidated by my authoritative demeanor. Then he sheepishly opened the door for me. A win for this FAROUT reporter.
I pointed at crew cut guy who was struggling to yank Poseidon off his stand. “I think your buddy needs help.” Giving him a dismissive nod, I strode into the captain’s office, closed the door firmly, and bolted the latch.
Sylvia and the captain were sitting on a couch. The captain looked puzzled by my presence. He started to rise, but I flashed my badge and motioned for him to sit back down. To my surprise, he complied. I made a mental note to try using my FAROUT badge the next time I got stopped for speeding. Maybe the officer would be so impressed by my credentials that he would let me go without even so much as a warning.
Overboard on the Ocean Page 6
