Dying for a Diamond

by Cindy Sample

  I shot them a cheery smile. “Hi, guys. How was breakfast?”

  Bradford jerked his thumb toward their stateroom. I gulped and entered their room, plopping down on the sofa, one shoe on and one shoe off.

  I glanced at my watch. “I only have a few minutes to spare. Tom and I scheduled the noon kayak tour.”

  “Would you like to tell us why you were invading our neighbor’s stateroom?” Mother asked.

  “I think the wife in that cabin might have shoved her husband overboard.”

  “And your reasons for that assumption?” Bradford asked, his expression skeptical.

  “You know I still believe I saw someone fall overboard that first night despite no one reporting a missing person. Ever since our second day on board, Deborah in cabin 9066 has been hanging around with a girlfriend. Her husband is nowhere to be found.”

  “So you felt obligated to search their room?” Bradford asked.

  “Well, I sort of fell into that. Literally,” I claimed. “I only intended to make a quick search, but the two women returned while I was still in there. Hence my rather unorthodox escape.”

  “You could have been killed.” My mother shuddered. “I swear between yours and Robert’s escapades, I’m going to have a heart attack one of these days.”

  Bradford grinned for the first time since he’d caught me snooping, and I smiled back. “How about I promise to keep a look out for the missing hubby, and you promise to stay out of strange cabins?” he asked me.

  I nodded. Absolutely no more balcony gymnastics for me. I was saving those antics for my mattress.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  I bumped into Jimmy Bond on my way back to our stateroom. Dressed in a logo-trimmed white polo shirt and creased tan khakis, the man looked like a GQ cover model––the senior version.

  “What are you up to today?” I asked him.

  “I’m going to meander around and grab a bite to eat while I watch the other passengers burn themselves to a crisp.”

  I laughed. “You always have such a great attitude. Do you ever mind traveling alone?”

  He spread his arms out wide. “How can one be alone when you’re surrounded by the grandeur of the seas?” A family passed by us, the parents’ arms loaded with beach bags and towels, as they herded their three noisy children down the stairs. “And an ever-changing slice of humanity,” Jimmy added. “And how, may I ask, are you and your husband occupying your day on the island?”

  “Kayaking,” I said unenthusiastically. “Or, knowing me, falling off the kayak and swimming in the lagoon. I hope no alligators reside on this island.”

  “Be careful, my dear,” he warned me. “I don’t know about alligators, but there are nasty critters everywhere.” He held up his hand and disappeared into the sea of passengers. As enigmatic as ever.

  I was still puzzling over my short conversation with Jimmy when I ran into my cousin. Sierra was dressed in a crisp white short-sleeved Nordic American blouse and navy slacks.

  “You look so official,” I said. “Are you leading a tour on the island today?”

  She grimaced. “The captain asked me to join him for a meeting. I didn’t get the impression it was a social occasion.”

  “Do you think you’ll be terminated?”

  Her gold braid epaulets moved up and down as she shrugged. “Honestly, I would have no problem having my tenure on this ship shortened. But I can’t afford a black mark on my employment record.”

  “I guess it could be worse. At least they’re not threatening to arrest you for Sanjay’s murder.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. I could tell your husband didn’t completely buy my explanation of my whereabouts when Sanjay was killed, but I certainly thought you would be on my side.”

  Her sharp reprimand brought back reminders of my youth when Sierra would make me stand in the corner of the dining room whenever I misbehaved. I might be too old to be punished by my former babysitter, but her words still cut me to the quick.

  “I’m sorry. Of course I believe you. You were my role model as a kid. Prom Queen, head cheerleader, female lead in the school musicals. I wanted to be you when I grew up.”

  “I think you did alright.” Sierra smiled at me. “You have a wonderful husband with high integrity, two great kids and an excellent job at the bank. I should be so lucky.” She looked at her watch. “Oops. I better get going. There’s nothing Captain Andriessen hates more than a lack of punctuality. I’m going to need a dose of good luck if I’m going to stay employed.”

  She raced off in one direction and so did I. When I arrived at our room, Tom kissed me before pointing to the clock. Since I was one flip-flop short, I slipped on a pair of sandals then packed everything I could possibly need in my super-sized straw tote and handed it to Tom.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Remember our wedding ceremony? You promised to love, cherish and haul my gear all over the place.”

  Tom rolled his eyes but kept silent. A wise choice on his part.

  The corridors and elevators were crowded with passengers, and I began to worry we would be late for our kayaking expedition. Luckily we got the last two seats in the tender and arrived on the island with fifteen minutes to spare. We bumped into Danielle and Jacques in the main square. I asked them about their plans for the day.

  “We ride the horses on the beach,” she said with a winsome smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I have always wanted to gallop through the waves. Pierre sent Jacques to make sure I don’t fall off and make big splash.”

  “That sounds like fun.” I turned to Tom. “Doesn’t it honey?” He shook his head, evidently not as enthralled with the notion of equine water sports as I was.

  “You are doing something fun on the island, too?” Danielle asked us as Mother and Bradford approached.

  “Hopefully, not looking for any missing bodies,” Bradford said, sending me a stern look.

  “Nope, no detecting for us today. Just kayaking.”

  Jacques looked confused. “What are these missing bodies you look for? Is a Pokemon game, non?”

  “No, is a, I mean it’s not a game,” I replied. “It’s a crime. A real one.”

  “Laurel thought she saw someone go overboard the first night of the cruise,” Mother explained as Claire and Rick joined our group, having arrived via the second tender.

  “C’est terrible,” Danielle said. “What is the captain doing about this missing person? I do not recall hearing about it.”

  Not a heck of a lot from my point of view. But I wasn’t in charge of the ship.

  “Isn’t it odd the ship didn’t stop?” said Rick. “Wouldn’t that be the normal protocol when someone is reported missing?”

  “If a specific passenger had been reported missing, the captain definitely would have stopped to search,” Tom explained. “But no one appears to be missing.”

  “So it really is a mystery,” Claire said. “You know I like to watch crime shows. Can I help look for clues? Wouldn’t it be fun if we discovered something?” Her dark eyes lit up at the thought.

  “Moi aussi,” Danielle said. “I can be the female Hercule Poirot, non?”

  I looked at the tall, slender young woman whose chestnut hair cascaded below her waist. Definitely, no. But I appreciated both women’s offers to help. I guess everyone has a secret urge to play amateur detective.

  Mother asked Rick and Claire about their plans. “Rick is joining the jet-ski tour around the island,” Claire said, “and I’m going to find one of those hammocks they advertised, get a daiquiri and read my Kindle. How about you?” she asked my mother.

  “Robert and I signed up for the glass boat tour, while Laurel and Tom will peacefully kayak around the lagoon.”

  From Mother’s lips to my paddles. I certainly hoped our kayak journey would be without incident and that the serene ambiance wouldn’t be rent with my cries for help if I fell overboard.

  But I sure wouldn
’t count on it.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Ten minutes and one pit-stop later, Tom and I joined the rest of our tour group. Sharon and Deborah waved hello at us. Deborah wore her standard dull beige polo shirt and matching shorts while Sharon sported a black T-shirt featuring an oversized cocktail glass on the front and the words DYING FOR A DAIQUIRI etched in sequins on the back.

  I might not concur with her fashion choices, but I wouldn’t have minded a daiquiri myself. The liquid kind.

  We boarded an open-air shuttle bus that would take us on the short drive to the lagoon. After a few minutes of total silence, an unusual event for his loquacious wife, Tom’s knee bumped against mine.

  “You’re kind of quiet,” he said. “Anything wrong?”

  “Just reflecting on our trip,” I replied with a sigh. “Hard to believe we’ll be back home tomorrow night. This cruise has gone by so quickly.”

  “Want to sign up for another week?”

  “Wouldn’t that be lovely?” I snuggled against his shoulder. “To have the freedom to go on vacation more than two weeks a year. To be your own boss.”

  “You mean you’re not counting the hours until you can work on Hangtown Bank’s next marketing campaign?” Tom teased me.

  My uncensored reply was drowned out in a squeal of aged brakes as the shuttle came to an abrupt stop.

  The tour director advised us to leave our bags and valuables on board the bus. The driver promised to keep tabs on our belongings while we kayaked.

  Tom unfurled his long legs, stood and waited while I slid across the cracked vinyl seat. “Do you think it’s safe to leave our stuff here?” I asked him. “What if the jewel thief is on this excursion? Maybe I should stay behind and keep an eye out.”

  “And miss out on your first kayaking trip?” Tom said. “Not to worry. The bus driver will be here. Everything will be fine.” He squeezed my shoulders. “Trust me.”

  I climbed down the steps wishing I felt as optimistic as Tom. Although I wasn’t anywhere near as old as many of the seniors on this excursion, what I lacked in years, I more than made up for in klutziness.

  The guide led our group to a long, narrow beach where rainbow-colored kayaks waited for us. A few puffy clouds dotted the sky, but the weather was about as perfect as you could ask for. Sunshine, low humidity and a slight breeze that caused barely a ripple on the calm surface of the lagoon.

  My spirits perked up and my shoulders relaxed as I realized kayaking could possibly end up as one of my favorite excursions.

  I’d originally thought Tom and I would be sharing a kayak built for two, but they only offered single kayaks on this island. He selected a red kayak and I chose a blue one in the exact shade as my worried eyes. The guide gave us a quick lesson on the art of paddling. It didn’t seem that complicated, but I paid careful attention to his instructions. Our group set out to explore the lagoon with my husband in the next boat over, keeping a watchful eye on me.

  Eventually our guide led us to a narrow passage lined with green mangrove trees on each side. Our group fell into place with one kayak trailing behind another. I ended up following Sharon who was behind Deborah, while Tom paddled directly behind me. Sharon must have kayaked before. Her strokes were strong and even as opposed to my more erratic paddling that favored my right side. Her posture was excellent, something I tried to mimic. But every time I attempted to sit up straight, my boobs, encased in the bulky life jacket, bumped into my paddle.

  I was so busy concentrating on my technique that I failed to notice our guide had stopped to point out a blue heron diving for his dinner. Sharon halted along with everyone else.

  Everyone, that is, except me.

  Thwack. I crashed into the side of Sharon’s boat. As I tried to move my paddle out of the way, the wide end smacked her in the back of her head.

  Sharon flipped into the water, her arms flailing in the air.

  I leaned forward and my kayak swayed to the left before righting itself. But Sharon’s safety was my main concern. I shoved my paddle toward her, hoping she could grab it for support. I don’t know whether Sharon was confused about my attempt to help her, or ticked off at me. The next thing I knew, my paddle was yanked out of my hand.

  I toppled over and hit the water with a resounding splash.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  The first word I uttered when I surfaced was “glub.” Behind me, someone shouted a string of four-letter words somewhat more specific than mine. I blinked my mascara-gunked eyelashes several times before my contacts settled down. The sight that greeted me was not at all pleasant. A bald stranger treaded water, his descriptive curses aimed in my direction.

  Where had he come from and what happened to Sharon? Did she need to be rescued? I couldn’t remember if she had chosen to wear a life vest or not, since the decision was up to the individual kayaker.

  My own personal rescue team swam up to me. “Are you okay, hon?” Tom asked, droplets of water on his eyelashes. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight against him as he treaded water.

  “I’m fine.” Then I yelped as a furry beast rubbed against the hand I’d been trailing in the lagoon. What the heck?

  Tom stretched his arm around me and grabbed hold of the critter. Neither a mammal nor a reptile.

  Merely one soggy blond wig.

  I glanced at the tall man who remained in the water. His gaze locked on the item in Tom’s hand.

  How could I have been so dense? Deborah hadn’t pushed her husband overboard. Darren was not only her spouse, he was also her best friend––Sharon. You could have fooled me.

  Actually, he had fooled me.

  Tom swam over to Darren/Sharon. While Tom held on to the kayak, he/she pulled himself or herself into the kayak. At this point, I had no idea which pronoun was the most appropriate. I was just grateful that Darren was alive and well.

  No thanks to me. He and Tom conversed briefly while I clung to my upside down kayak trying to figure out the most graceful way to climb back inside.

  By now, our guide had paddled up to us. He rolled my kayak back over for me. Then while the guide held my blue kayak steady, Tom eased me back inside. At least he tried to. The first two attempts didn’t go that well, and both the boat and I tipped over each time. Tom finally resorted to a move he must have used in his patrol officer days when he had to shove a suspect into the back of a squad car. But it worked.

  Even though the guide had recommended leaving our valuables in the bus, it appeared that several intrepid seniors had ignored him. The sound of whirring long distance lenses focusing on me did not improve my mood. I could only hope they were clueless about downloading their videos onto YouTube.

  By now, Sharon, I mean, Darren, and Deborah had paddled far away, evidently fearful of being in close proximity to a klutzy kayaker. The rest of the group followed our guide who had once again taken the lead position with Tom and me at the very rear of the pack.

  “Hanging in there, hon?” he asked from a few feet away. Even my husband was nervous about being too close to my vicinity.

  “Sure, just another wonderful day in paradise,” I griped wondering if any squirmy sea critters had lodged in my curls. I didn’t dare take my hand off my paddle to find out.

  “Look at it this way. You have one less missing husband to worry about.” Tom’s shoulders shook with laughter. “The expression on Darren’s face when we pulled his wig out of the water was priceless.”

  I began giggling although I kept it in check so as not to jostle my boat. Most detectives attempt to turn over clues.

  Only I could manage to turn over my suspect!

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  The rest of our expedition progressed without further incident. Tom and I maintained a respectable distance from everyone else. Despite feeling slimy and bedraggled, I kind of enjoyed it, although I looked forward to docking our kayaks on shore.

  Tom climbed out of his kayak then walked over to assist me. He helped me out then pulled me into a sticky
hug.

  “Ugh.” I shifted away from him. “I love you to pieces, but we could both use a hot shower and the sooner the better.”

  We were the last couple to board the bus. A few passengers sent us baleful looks, but the majority of them inquired if we were okay. One person even thanked me for providing his favorite comic moment of the trip.

  Any time.

  We slipped into the only two empty seats in the back, located across the aisle from Darren and Sharon.

  I motioned to Tom to take the window seat so I could sit on the aisle. I needed to apologize to the other couple for the mishap. I waited until the bus turned onto the main road, figuring the noisy exhaust would muffle our conversation from any eavesdroppers.

  I leaned across the aisle and spoke to Deborah. Her husband’s eyes were closed, his bald head resting against the window. “I’m so sorry about what happened. Is Darren okay?”

  She nodded and spoke softly. “More embarrassed than anything.” She snuck a peek at her husband. “He really adored that wig.”

  I snorted in an attempt to stifle a giggle. “He certainly fooled me.”

  One of Darren’s eyes popped open. I noticed that his mascara had remained on his exceptionally long eyelashes far better than mine had. He leaned across his wife and asked, “We really did manage to sucker you, didn’t we? Deborah and I almost wondered if you were going to report her husband as missing.”

  The three of us burst into laughter. “So, why the get-up?” I asked.

  Deborah replied first. “It started with one Halloween party when everyone complimented Darren on his Cher costume. It was so much fun, we tried a few weekend getaways where he assumed the Sharon persona.”

  “It was a kick fooling folks,” Darren added. “This was the first lengthy trip we tried. It’s been great fun.” He eyed me. “Except for losing my favorite wig.”