We looked down, then at each other.
“Romero!” we cried in unison.
“You killed him!” I dropped to the floor, panic seizing me.
Max tossed the wooden skull on the bed and fell to his knees. We bent close, listening for signs of breathing. I inhaled Romero’s Arctic Spruce scent, almost melting from the comforting smell. Don’t be dead, don’t be dead. My pulse roared in my ears.
I squeezed his hand, rubbing my thumb along the platinum band of his Iron Man watch. I took in the scar on his cheekbone, the fine lines around his eyes, his uncontrollable dark, wavy hair.
“Whew! He’s breathing peacefully,” Max said.
I could barely breathe. I stared down at Romero, this tough, stubborn man who, despite his macho image, stood for justice, honor, and integrity. Emotionally, I was aching to the core, but I made myself firm up. “He’s not going to like the bruise he’ll have when he comes to.”
“Which is why I’ll be leaving now.” Max clenched his pirate skull and flew out the door.
I darted to the bathroom, filled a cup with water, and splashed it on Romero’s face.
He didn’t jump or stir an inch. Why did it always work in the movies? I didn’t know what to do. I knelt beside him and lifted his head onto my lap. I wiped his cheeks with my gown, pushed his dark hair aside, and felt for blood. Nothing tacky, wet, or red. Thank you, God.
My fingers were inches from his five-o’clock shadow, my lips a breath away from his. I gazed into his tranquil face, and it struck me how handsome he was. It also struck me I’d never seen him sleep or been wrapped in his arms at daybreak. Suddenly, the miles that had been spread between us made me care for him more. What an awful moment to realize how much I cherished Romero. If anything happened to him, I…I didn’t know what life would be like. I pulled myself together before huge tears plopped onto his face.
He finally groaned and opened his eyes like he was getting his bearings straight. Then he looked up and saw me. “Merda!” He jumped a foot back, his gruff voice washing me with relief. “What’d you hit me with? A tire iron?” He rubbed his scalp with the heel of his hand. “No. It had to be a twenty-pound hair dryer or a flat iron.”
“Actually”—I winced—“it was Max who hit you.”
“You got him assaulting for you now?”
“Sorry.” I yanked back my gown. “I wasn’t expecting you!”
He eyed my dress. “I can see that.”
For a moment, I was taken back to the first time Romero walked into my salon, all self-assured, virile, and arrogant, putting me on the defensive. Well, I’d had about enough of his insults. “And what was that you said in Italian?”
“You don’t want to know.” He swiped his phone off the ground. “I only say it when I get clobbered.” He looked up into my eyes, giving his head another rub. “Want to tell me why you’re arriving in your cabin at 8:15 in the morning dressed like that?”
“Not especially.” I got off my hands and knees.
This was just like Romero, taking a situation and turning it around. Like I was the bad guy here! Who broke into whose cabin? “Maybe I have a question or two!” I ignored the murderous look on his face. “Like, what are you doing here?”
He got to his feet. “I’m here because of the homicide.”
“The Lucy Jacobs homicide?”
“Are there any others I should be aware of?” He settled his hands on his hips, giving me a stony look.
I glanced around the room, disregarding that self-confident face. “How did you get in here?”
“Phyllis let me in on her way to breakfast.”
Great, Phyllis was okay. I didn’t need more worries. “That was decent of her.”
He lowered his eyes to my breasts and back up, and all I could think was, God, he looks edible. The sight of him standing there, looking sexy if somewhat injured, had me wanting to drop my gown to my toes. True, I’d had similar feelings toward Jock less than an hour ago, but there it was.
Romero had an irresistible side to his tough exterior that not only made me nervous, it also charmed me. If I hadn’t been so busy acting indignant, I might’ve told him how much I missed him. Instead, I hooked my thumbs inside my cleavage and yanked up my dress.
He cleared his throat and pulled the cop tone. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”
Huh? Then it registered. Twix! My face stung, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of Romero’s fiery look or the fact that he was onto me. Either way, I did an about-face toward the bathroom to escape.
He sprang for the back of my dress. “Not so fast. I have some questions for you. Like, why was your friend at my house, standing on a recycling box, snooping through my kitchen window?”
I lost the conviction in my voice. “Maybe she was looking for a recipe?”
“Is that a joke?”
“Are you laughing?”
He glared at me. Hard.
“Well? What makes you think she was my friend, anyway?”
“Let’s see. My sister happened to arrive and caught the woman practically cleaning my window with her nose. When Cynthia threatened to call the cops, your friend came clean.”
I’d met Romero’s sister at her wedding several months ago. She threw me the bouquet and seemed to like me. Now she probably thought I was a loser. Or a stalker.
“Seems your pal’s curiosity is worse than yours.” He sighed. “If that’s possible.”
“Okay! I wanted to know if you were back from California. Twix only did what I asked.”
“Twix. As in the candy bar?”
“That’s right.”
He rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you call me instead of sending Nancy Drew, a.k.a. Twix?”
Did I admit I tried and a woman answered the phone? Probably Cynthia again. How stupid could I be?
“I only had your home number,” I lied. “And no one answered,” I lied again. “Anyway, you’re here now, and I don’t understand any of this.”
For the first time since coming to, his eyes softened, and he didn’t look like he wanted to kill me. “It’s complicated,” he said. “Belinda and I finished our business early, and I was ordered to come on board because of a homicide.”
“Are you alone, or did Belinda come with you?”
“She flew home. I changed flights and came straight here.”
“You do get around.”
“It wasn’t my idea, but Puerto Rico is under U.S. jurisdiction, and the victim, Lucy Jacobs, had priors in Rueland, New York, and Boston—one investigation in which I’m still involved. I boarded the ship before sunup and escorted the body to dry land.”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re investigating her?”
His eyes darkened. “Are you going to tell me where you were last night?”
I tightened my lips and folded my arms across my chest. “I guess you’ll be leaving now.”
“Tired of me already? Or are you afraid I’m going to ask if it’s true?”
“Is what true?”
“That you found her dead. Like you have a habit of doing.”
“This was different. There were four hundred and ninety-nine other witnesses.”
“A world of difference.” There was a glimmer in his eyes, and the muscles stiffened around his jaw. I’d seen this look before, like he wanted more from me. I wasn’t sure what kind of more, but I felt heat between my legs and a flush on my face.
I smacked my legs together. “I had nothing to do with her death.”
“No, but I bet you think you saw or heard something that may have led to it.”
Like I was an open book. I wasn’t about to tell him—with his ribbing and insults—what I’d seen. Trusting Jock a mere hour ago was currently more than I could handle.
Just as I was about to tell him to kindly leave, there was a firm knock on the door. Glad for the interruption, I swung it open and saw my mother’s face, fright drawn in her eyes.
“Tantig is gone!”
CHAPTER
SEVEN
“What do you mean, gone?” I asked. “Heaven gone, mentally gone, or disappeared gone?”
My mother caught her breath and held up Tantig’s sweater as proof of her being missing. “Disappeared gone.”
Tremors of panic poured in. If she’d announced this twenty-four hours ago, I’d have said Tantig was wandering the ship. But it wasn’t yesterday. Yesterday, Lucy was alive and well—at least I’d thought she was alive and well.
“We’ve reported it to security,” my mother said. “But…” She peered past me at Romero and instantly went from looking grief-stricken to looking as if she should kneel before Sir Galahad.
“I’m sorry.” She eyed my silky dress, probably noticing the wrinkles, not to mention my day-old makeup and mussed hair. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”
“He was just leaving,” I said.
“Actually, I can stay a while,” Romero said. “Your sister’s clearly worried.”
My mother dropped Tantig’s sweater and gushed, “Sister.”
I was toast. Any man using that term on a girl’s mother was as good as in. The dreamy look on my mother’s face confirmed it.
“Mom? Tantig?”
“Who?” My mother’s gaze didn’t leave the Knight of the Round Table’s face.
Romero brushed past my breast, picked up Tantig’s sweater, and handed it to my mother.
“Valentine,” she said, “aren’t you going to introduce me to this sweet man?”
Sweet? If I knew Romero, he had a gun strapped to his ankle and another under his sports coat at his back. The predatory look he’d given me moments ago had me feeling he’d gone without sex longer than he’d like. Sweet? My breast was on fire where he’d grazed me with his arm. Sweetness had nothing to do with that.
“This is Detective Michael Romero,” I said to my mother.
I faced Romero. “And you’ve now met my mother, Ava Beaumont, the woman half-responsible for this.” I pointed to myself.
“Perhaps you can find my husband’s aunt,” she said.
“When did you last see her?” Romero and I asked in unison. Then he gave me a look that said he was the detective here.
“This morning before she went for her walk.” My mother was much calmer now, Romero’s presence evidently having a positive effect on her. “It’s probably another false alarm like the one the other day.”
I gaped at her. “What false alarm? When?”
“Our first night here. She wandered off after supper.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because you were having such a good time meeting new people. I didn’t want to worry you, too. And she turned up, uninjured, sitting in a jewelry shop with the clerk, watching one of her soaps on the clerk’s computer.”
My mother was right. My great-aunt did sometimes wander. Hadn’t I seen her roaming the deck yesterday morning before heading into Nassau? True, she was exercising. But occasionally she got lost. Max had even thought he’d seen her ambling around last night. Thank goodness it wasn’t Tantig, but it easily could’ve been. An unsettling feeling tugged at me, like there was something I should’ve recalled. I couldn’t retrieve it, and I wasn’t going to think the worst. It did just sound like another case of Tantig touring on her own.
“I don’t know what to do.” My mother wrung the sweater in her hands. “Your father’s chomping at the bit, waiting to see the sights in Puerto Rico. You know your father. Not a care in the world. He said Tantig probably got tired of walking and decided to nap on a lounge chair somewhere.”
My father was probably right.
“I’ll talk to security.” Romero rubbed my shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Beaumont.”
“Ava, please,” she said with a faint smile.
He gave me an I’ll-deal-with-you-later look and was gone.
I gulped down a swallow from the look, then turned to my mother. “I’ll stay back and find Tantig. You go with Dad. And try not to worry. I’m sure she’s fine.”
She blinked at me. “If you stay behind, you’ll get in trouble like you always do, cutting off someone’s ear with a razor or—”
I’d never cut off anyone’s ear with my razor. I may have sliced an individual’s arm with one, but never an ear. “I promise I won’t use my razor, okay? Give me that picture you have of Tantig.”
“What for?”
“So I can show it around, see if anybody saw her. What’s the name of the jewelry shop she was in?”
“Rugert’s.” My mother dug in her purse and handed me the photo.
I ushered her to the door when Max burst into the cabin, asking if Romero was okay.
“Oops.” He almost collided with my mother. He tore off the straw hat anchored on his head. “Sorry, Mrs. B.”
She smiled at Max. “It’s all right. I was leaving.”
We watched her walk away, head down.
“What was that all about?” Max asked.
“Tantig is missing.”
“What?” he shrieked, backing me into the cabin, slamming the door behind him. “Where’s Romero?”
“Gone.”
He tapped his hat in his hand. “Romero’s on board. Tantig’s missing. And the breakfast buffet was unappetizing. I bet this all has to do with the murder.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Woman’s intuition.”
“You’re not a woman.”
“Men can have those vibes, too. Anyway, you’re on the ship. There had to be a murder…and a kidnapping.”
“Thanks a lot. And no one said Tantig was kidnapped.” I stuffed the picture in my bag.
He ignored me and put his finger to his chin. “I told you, Kashi’s our man. He looks all cheerful and up-and-up, but there’s malice in those eyes. And we already know he poured something poisonous into Lucy’s drink. He could’ve killed her, and then lured your great-aunt away with one of his tacky brooches.”
Oh brother. “He already gave Tantig a brooch on the shuttle bus to the ship. She didn’t look too thrilled then. I doubt she’d be any more excited by another pin with hair sticking out. And no one knows if Kashi poured poison into Lucy’s drink. I’d suggested it, but you yourself said I was probably wrong. Now, if you don’t mind, could you tour by yourself this morning?”
“But we were going to buy some top-quality gold today. There’re supposed to be a ton of jewelers not far from the dock in Old San Juan.”
“Then you go. I’m still in last night’s dress.”
He grinned. “I can see that.”
I pushed him out the door. “Maybe you’ll run into Phyllis, and the two of you can spend the day together.”
“Very funny. Are you trying to spoil my day?”
I shut the door in his face, leaned against it, and took stock of things, ugly as they seemed. I got drunk again in front of five hundred people, fell into a lifeboat for a shoe, and woke up naked in Jock’s arms. If that wasn’t bad enough, Romero was on board, looking all edible and rough around the edges. And he was here because Lucy had turned into a Popsicle, which also spelled murder. Now, Tantig was missing.
I thought this through, uncertain how much worse things could become. Four things were clear. There was a murderer loose, Jock knew something regarding Lucy’s death, my anxiety level was climbing, and no one was going to stop me from finding Tantig.
I kept reassuring myself that Tantig was just poking along the deck and we were all worrying for nothing. I looked down at my gown. And if I wanted to start a search, I couldn’t traipse around like Cinderella all day.
* * *
I found my phone beside my makeup bag in the bathroom, right where I’d left it. I swept my hair up into a messy bun, jumped in the shower, and was soaping up when I thought I heard a tap on the cabin door. I waited a second, but there was no further noise.
I finished showering, toweled myself dry, and did a two-minute makeup job. Then I pulled my hair out of the bun, gave it a q
uick brush, and gathered a few strands at the back with sparkly bobby pins.
Before I moved on, I called my sister, Holly. Shoot. Battery was almost dead. Well, this wouldn’t take long. I filled her in on Tantig’s disappearance, pacing the room and slipping into a blue plaid skirt.
Holly was the cool cucumber in the family, next to my father. She’d come up with a logical reason for Tantig’s whereabouts.
“I suppose Mom’s worried she was kidnapped while Dad’s climbing to the top of some ruin.”
I fastened the button on my skirt. “You don’t think she could’ve been kidnapped?”
She chuckled. “Why would anyone want Tantig? Don’t get me wrong. I love her, but she’d drive her kidnappers crazy with her ‘Have a Tic Tac’ comments.”
“Maybe.” The more logical worry was that she was missing because a murderer was killing random passengers, but I refused to go there.
“You know Tantig,” she continued. “She gets disoriented and ends up in the strangest places. Sit tight. She’ll show up.”
“For a cop, you’re pretty laidback.”
“I’ve had lots of false alarms. You’ll see. Everything will be fine. Now, what’s the other thing you called about?”
“Huh?” I gave myself a shot of perfume, my mind still on Tantig.
“I know there’s something else, and I bet it has to do with Romero.”
Upon hearing his name, I accidentally fired Musk into my mouth. “Blech!” I rubbed my tongue. “What do you mean, Romero?”
“Six-foot-tall male. Movie-star looks. Sexy. Italian. Cop.”
I slid into my shoes. “I should go. I only have ten percent left on my phone.”
“This won’t take long.” I could see the amused expression on her face as clearly as if she were sitting in front of me. “You’re calling about Belinda, aren’t you?”
Terrific. Holly and Romero worked out of the same precinct. Of course she’d know his new partner. “No,” I said. “But now that you brought up her name, what’s she like?”
“You haven’t met her?”
“No.” This was one thing about Holly that drove me crazy. She never gave straight answers. Romero possessed this trait as well. Probably part of their clever police training.
Murder, Curlers, and Cruises Page 10
