She gave one of her throaty laughs. “Oh, little sister. She’s everything you’re not.”
“Meaning?”
“Look,” she said. “Belinda’s on her way up. This is just a detour in her climb to the top. I wouldn’t worry about her…or who she’s sleeping with.”
“Thanks a lot.” I’d tried to envision Romero’s partner as a toothless ogre with dirty hair and a miserable personality. Thanks to Holly, I was seeing her as a Victoria’s Secret model.
“If you didn’t call about her, you must want information about Lucy Jacobs. I know Romero’s on board the Love Boat. And he’s good, but he won’t always be able to save your hiney. Be careful. Wherever you go, trouble seems to follow.”
“That’s not true.”
“Do I need to bring up your past?”
“Okay, already. My phone’s about to die. What can you tell me about Lucy Jacobs?”
“Listen, narcotics investigations are confidential, not something the DEA takes lightly.”
“Lucy was a hairstylist! She dealt drugs?”
“I’m only telling you what I’d learned when Romero was on Vice. Drug offenses are subject to federal prosecution, and she was under suspicion for trafficking. She had a few arrests, but nothing we could make stick.”
“And Romero was working her case?”
“Yep.”
“But he’s on homicide now.”
“And he probably thought he’d washed his hands of her when he left New York Vice four years ago. But because a past homicide in Rueland was tied to a murder in New York last year, he was pulled back on the case. If you read the paper once in a while, you’d know about the slayings. Her involvement was implied, but the charges were dropped.”
Lucy involved in a murder? “You think her death was drug-related?” Maybe she was killed by a dealer. What if she was given a drug overdose? Kashi and the vial came to mind.
“I don’t know. But watch your back, okay? And keep your hairspray ready to fire. There’s a maniac loose.”
She didn’t need to tell me. I hung up and tried to piece together Lucy’s involvement in drugs and a possible murder. Hard to believe.
What about Sabrina’s role in all this? Had she worked with Lucy? Or were they simply friends? Was she also involved in these criminal activities?
And what about Kashi? Could Max be right? Was he cheerful on the outside and diabolical on the inside? He detested Lucy at the beginning of the trip. Why the sudden change after she won the contest? Because he’d wanted to lull her into a false sense of security so he could kill her? If so, why? To steal her money? Revenge?
I couldn’t see Kashi as a cold-blooded murderer. It’d be too easy an answer. Plus, he was genuinely kind to Tantig on the bus. How could someone that nice be so crazy?
I decided to grab something to eat, then start my search at the jewelry store. Knowing Tantig, once she found a quiet spot to watch her soaps, she’d be there the rest of the week, especially if she could escape my mother’s fussing.
I gripped my bag and tossed my phone inside. What would be left from the morning buffet? Jock and his room-service breakfast popped to mind. Then my mind shifted to what we were doing before breakfast. Yikes. I almost gave myself to him, wrapped up in a pretty bow. Now Romero was here, pulling me in like a moth to a flame.
I clapped my hand to my chest to stop the thundering inside. I had to calm down. I had more important things to think about.
I twisted the doorknob, walked out into the hallway, and Crunch!
What? I glanced down at the Tic Tacs container I’d speared with my right heel. Tic Tacs like the ones Tantig always carried. I looked up and down the hall. Nobody. Had she been here, looking for me? Was that who’d knocked on the door when I was in the shower?
I lifted my heel and unpierced the container when my phone chimed in my bag. Damn thing. Forgot to leave it behind to charge.
It was my mother calling, asking if I’d found Tantig.
I turned toward my cabin and dropped the Tic Tacs in my bag, deciding against telling her about them just yet. “I’m leaving the cabin now. I’ll let you know when I find her.”
I stepped back inside the doorway to charge my phone when a large hand came from behind and smothered me while the other hand wrapped tightly around my waist. Fear blindsided me, stifling all my senses. The only thing I could do was stomp down on my captor’s foot. I stabbed my heel on top of his shoe with little impact. A second later, I was dragged back into my cabin, kicking and wriggling, the door banging behind us.
“Shh!” came a soft whisper in my ear just as my phone chimed again.
“Mmmfmm,” I muttered hysterically, the phone slipping from my grasp to the floor.
“I’m going to remove my hand. Promise you won’t scream.”
Deaf to everything but my pulse pounding in my ears, I nodded up and down. I’d do anything to get free so I could yell and holler at the top of my lungs. I slid a shaky hand in my bag and rooted around for something that might help me. I felt a smooth bottle that narrowed at the top. Nail polish remover! I clenched it with my fingers and one-handedly flipped open the lid. My assailant released me, and I turned around, screaming, squirting acetone in his face.
“Aaaaah!” he hollered above my shrieks.
“Oh, no!” I stopped dead in my tracks. “Jock!” I ran to the bathroom for water while he clawed at his eyes.
“Are you crazy?” he shouted.
“I thought you were abducting me!” I dabbed his eyes with a drenched cloth.
He pushed me aside with one arm and dove into the bathroom for the shower hose.
I picked up my phone, which had stopped ringing, and placed it on the little table in our cabin. Then I stood in the middle of the room, watching Jock like a scared child who’d just set her house on fire. He bent over the drain with tense shoulders and aimed the nozzle at his face. Water poured down his neck as he worked furiously bathing his burning eyes.
A few minutes later, with a towel draped over his massive shoulders, he stood in front of me, hands on hips, chest heaving. In my closet-sized cabin, Jock seemed tremendously imposing. There wasn’t anywhere else to look but up into his patchy red eyes that were darkening by the minute.
“I was trying to prove a point about being careful,” he finally said.
“What? You scared me half to death to prove a point?”
He exhaled. “With a killer on the loose, you can’t stand in your open doorway where anyone could drag you back inside your cabin. There’s already been one murder. Now Tantig’s missing.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How did you know Tantig was missing? I only found out about an hour ago.” Then I realized, not much got by Jock. When the world comes to an end, he’ll know a day before everyone else.
“I was talking to security when your mother rushed in with the news. After some discussion, it seems your great-aunt has taken off before without your mother’s knowledge, once already on the ship. It’s likely she’s roaming around on her own again.” He gave me a stern glare. “I don’t want you imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios.” He paused at that. “I know. Dumb idea.”
I cut him a surly look. “You could’ve told me this instead of suffocating me.”
“I’ll remember that next time. Just so you know, Rugert’s and all the other stores have been notified in case your great-aunt decides to look for more places to watch her soaps. As of right now, she hasn’t visited any of them. But we’ll keep an eye open.”
I was touched.
I didn’t know why, but I had a sudden vision of Tantig at one of my piano recitals when I was twelve. I looked up during my performance of Mozart’s “Sonata in C Major” and saw Tantig slouched in the front row beside my parents, fast asleep. After the recital, when I came off the stage, she woke up, looked at the stranger next to her, and said in a dry tone, “That was my grrreat niece.”
The man had replied, “She’s very gifted.”
Tantig had given him h
er chin-up and slow blink. Her way of saying yes, or thank you, or about a dozen other terms she couldn’t be bothered to utter.
Tears formed in my eyes, thinking back to all the times Tantig had been there. My piano concerts, ballet recitals, graduations, even at the little funeral I’d had for my beloved cat Pusso. Tantig was a big part of my family, and now she was missing.
“I—” I blinked back the tears when my phone rang for a third time.
Jock reached for the phone and handed it to me.
“Am I ever glad I caught you!” Twix said. “You’re not going to believe what I unearthed about Romero. I drove over to his house, like you asked, and—”
I was trying to pay attention because I wanted to hear Twix’s version of what happened. But Jock’s serious stare was intimidating me. What was he doing here anyway? Other than proving a point.
“—so by the time I noticed the sports car in the driveway, I was halfway up the kitchen window, and this gorgeous blond tapped me on the shoulder, asking if she could help me.”
I coughed and almost choked on my spit, worried that Jock could hear Twix’s every word.
“You okay?” Twix asked. “What’s wrong? You haven’t said a thing.”
“Sounds wonderful,” I mumbled into the phone, turning a shoulder away from Jock’s prying eyes.
“What?” Twix was having a fit. “Wonderful! Did you hear a word I said? You were right to worry. The things she said about her and Romero? Whew. No doubt, that woman was his lover—”
Buzzzzz. The battery died before I learned anything else.
I let out a breath and collapsed on a chair. I had enough going on without wondering why Twix was mistaken about the blond’s identity. The woman was Cynthia, Romero’s sister. He’d told me that himself. Why would he lie? I thought back again to the last few times I’d seen him and how he’d been preoccupied, almost distant. I wanted to believe it was the case he’d been working. But what if it was personal? What if there was another woman in his life, and she was the woman at his house? Was he lying to me to save face? Was he going to come clean after the cruise?
My stomach was rumbling, I was on the verge of passing out from hunger, and my mind was racing with a dozen other concerns. What did I care about Romero? I sniffed, all indignant. He could have a hundred lovers for all I cared.
I rammed the charger into the phone and heard Jock clear his throat. I got to my feet and whipped around fiercely, my anger getting the best of me. “What are you doing here anyway? Other than scaring me to death.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Yeah, you heard me! I woke up in your bed with a major hangover, Tantig is missing, Romero’s joined the Love Boat, and I haven’t had as much as a bowl of cereal. Why are you here?”
He pulled my earrings from last night out of his jeans pocket and dangled them in front of my nose. “You forgot these.”
There was a sharp rap at the door, interrupting us for the second time this morning. I grabbed the earrings and opened the door.
Romero’s frame filled the doorway. He looked from me, to the earrings in my hand, to Jock, and he didn’t look happy. Romero and Jock in the same room produced extreme and tangible electricity. But as a hardened cop, Romero displayed immense restraint.
He assessed Jock’s red eyes, gave him a nod, and slid his hands into his pockets. Meanwhile, I felt like we were at the OK Corral, and at any moment there was going to be a gunfight. What’s more, I couldn’t have cared less. I wasn’t too thrilled with Jock at the moment, and as far as Romero was concerned, he was a lying cheat. He had some nerve coming back here like he owned the place.
I swallowed hard, waiting for someone to make the first move.
Romero glanced one last time at the earrings, probably wondering what he’d walked in on. A muscle tightened in his jaw, and he straightened as if deciding to move on. Wise of him.
“I spoke to ship security.” His gaze fastened on me. “There’s no sign of your great-aunt anywhere. The Coast Guard’s been notified, and the police in San Juan will put out a missing persons report after forty-eight hours.”
“Forty-eight hours!” I snapped, flinging the earrings on the table. “She could be in grave danger.” I ripped open my bag, snatched the Tic Tacs, and planted them in Romero’s palm. “These were outside my cabin door when I got out of the shower earlier.”
Romero held up the mints and looked from me over to Jock. “A broken container of mints?” I could’ve sworn I saw grins tug at their faces.
“They’re not just mints.” I gritted my teeth. “They’re Tic Tacs. Tantig’s Tic Tacs.”
“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions?”
“No!” I gave him a dirty glare. “Tantig has carried Tic Tacs on her for…forever. She’s always handing them out. Someone could’ve kidnapped her and dropped them at my door as a threat.”
“A threat about what?”
“I don’t know! You’re the detective here.”
He rubbed his neck, which he often did around me, like he was aggravated. Too bad for him. It wasn’t his great-aunt who was missing.
“Was there a note?”
“No.”
“Phone call?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll check it out.” He looked at Jock, and it was as if I’d become invisible. “Tell me what you know,” Romero asked him.
Jock widened his stance. “The captain suspects one of his crew is involved in a drug run. He’s maxed out his security officers and has asked me to investigate.”
“Do you think there’s a tie-in with the murder?”
“Could be. I’m still exploring leads.”
Exploring leads? Tie-in with the murder? “Hold on a second.” I tilted my head up at Romero. “Why are you asking Jock questions? He’s not Batman. He’s not even Bruce Wayne.” Although I was beginning to wonder. “He’s a hairstylist and an ex-navy firefighter.”
“Also, a master-at-arms.”
“A what?” I gaped from Romero to Jock.
Jock gave me a part-amused, part-questioning grin.
“You heard me,” Romero said. “I imagine that’s why the captain’s asked him to investigate.”
“Is that what you imagine!” I was full steam ahead, not sure who I was angrier with. Now I understood Jock’s encounters with the captain. Seemed everyone but me knew about his gripping past.
I fixed my gaze on Jock. “Anything else you’d like to tell me about your background? Like maybe at one time you were a lion tamer? Or in the CIA? Or maybe you’re one of those guys who removed land mines.”
Jock folded his arms and winked. “Never done that.” I thought he was referring to my last comment. But how could I be sure of anything where these two were concerned!
“I have to go,” Romero said. “I’d love to see how this plays out, but I’m expected in New York tonight with the body.” He tipped his chin down at me. “Let me know when you locate Tantig. In the meantime, I’m sure Jock will help you.” He gave a last glance at Jock’s irritated eyes, then sniffed the air. “My first guess was perfume. Then I thought hairspray, but it doesn’t smell like either.”
“Try nail polish remover.” Jock rubbed a fist in his eye.
Romero gave me a stern look. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
I folded my arms across my chest in a huff. Why the assumption I was the reason for Jock’s red eyes? He could’ve gotten soap in his eyes! Chlorine! Sunscreen! And about a dozen other things.
Romero flicked my chin with his finger, settling his piercing blue gaze on me. Once again, my heart melted at his Mediterranean coloring and thick black lashes. How was having blue eyes this intense even possible? But I was ticked off. I wasn’t going to be won over by good looks.
“You’ve got my cell number,” he said. “Probably better using it than calling Nancy Drew to hunt me down.”
“Don’t expect me to call anytime soon,” I said, nose high, frustrated at so many things, I couldn’t count.<
br />
He slammed the door behind him, and I stuck out my tongue like a teenager who’d been dumped by a double-crossing boyfriend. And what was up with him and Jock? Last time he saw Jock, there were silent daggers being thrown. Now, he was unconcerned. I’m sure Jock will help you? What kind of love interest offered a woman on a silver platter to another man? Especially one who looked like a Greek god? Obviously, Romero didn’t care. This was his way of cutting ties. I tapped my finger on my bag, hurt and anger slicing me inside.
“You okay?” Jock asked.
I spun around. “That’s what this is all about. You think someone’s smuggling drugs.”
“That’s the short of it.”
“Anyone you have in mind?”
“I’ve got my eye on a couple of people.”
“Care to share?”
He walked to the door and turned around. “Nope.”
“May I ask why not?”
“Because I don’t want you involved.” He wrapped his hand around the doorknob.
“With Tantig missing, I’d say I’m already involved.”
“You’re overreacting. People get lost wandering the ship all the time. This isn’t unusual.”
And with that he was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The dining room was empty of passengers. Everyone had eaten and was already well into their day. Waiters were gathering plates and removing serving bowls from the buffet stations. I showed Tantig’s photo to a couple of the cruise staff, taking a chance someone had seen her. Nobody had.
This didn’t discourage me. Despite my outburst at Romero, I was holding onto the notion that Tantig’s disappearance was a false alarm and that she was simply wandering around the ship.
Needing something to eat before I looked for her, I asked a nearby waiter if I could grab a few things off the buffet before it was all removed.
“Sure, senorita,” he said. “Help yourself.”
“Gracias.” Jock wasn’t the only one who could reel off Spanish.
First, I poured a glass of tomato juice for my hangover and downed it. Then I grabbed some fresh fruit salad, a hard-boiled egg, and a croissant. I thought twice about the calories in the croissant, put it back, and snatched a seven-grain piece of bread. Damn Jock and his buffets are killers!
Murder, Curlers, and Cruises Page 11
