Love Overboard

Chapter 7

“SLOW. SLOW. QUICK-QUICK, SLOW.”

Wooden floorboards rattled as the lead-footed passengers stomped across the stage of the main auditorium. The Argentine tango sounded more like a military march. Jon’s left temple pounded to the beat of the live accordion music. Why would anyone schedule a ballroom dance class for nine o’clock in the morning? The high-pitched voice of the instructor, Marcel, grated on Jon’s nerves as his middle-aged partner tromped on his big toe for the second time.

The woman in the fluorescent-yellow beach cover-up hopped back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” Jon smiled. “I’m sure Fred Astaire would have put up with much worse for the beautiful Ginger.”

“Who are they?”

“A famous dance pair in classic movies.”

“Oh.”

She tittered like a canary, and he wondered why he was wasting his day here when he should be vetting the crew for possible suspects. Marcel had roped him into the class when the assistant dance instructor caught the flu. Jon’s job was to partner the single ladies. Chances were they weren’t really single. Their husbands and boyfriends likely possessed a strong preservation instinct that kept them away.

He felt pressure on his left pinky toe, but his partner didn’t even notice she was trampling his foot.

“Pardon me.” He tapped her, and she beamed at him. “You’re standing on my toe.”

“Oh.” She wobbled backward. “I’m sorry, Fred.” Her shrill bird laugh hit him again.

“It’s okay, Ginger.”

“Excuse me, baby.” Althea’s voice sounded from the theater floor below them. She hauled herself onto the stage, pranced over, and sidled up to his partner. “Mind if I cut in? It would be such a shame if I got all gussied up for nothing.” She wore a black leotard with a ruffled skirt in a scandalous shade of red. Her silver hair was slicked flat and confined in a low bun with curls surrounding it. A silk rose rested behind her ear.

“I … I guess not.” The woman moved aside, and Althea took her place.

“My divine Althea comes.” Jon held out his left hand, and she placed her right one on it.

They moved to the sultry music without speaking. The woman’s light motions belied her size as she nimbly followed him in the dance. His former partner stuck her tongue out at Althea’s back before slouching away.

“You do realize you saved eight of my toes,” Jon said when they were out of earshot.

“Sorry I was too late to save the other two.” The hand resting on his shoulder patted him. “Consider it repaying the favor for the taxis yesterday. Years ago, I was in a city bus accident, and walking long distances is difficult.”

“Glad to be of service.” He observed the other people on the stage. Daisy danced an elegant pattern off to their right, partnered by one of the waiters, but the other two Shippers were nowhere to be seen. “Don’t Emily and Gerry enjoy ballroom?”

“I imagine they do, but they’re making arrangements for a quick trip later this morning. We don’t often stay two days in Cozumel, and they wanted to do some adventuring.”

“I hear the higher-ups made an exception because it’s carnival season. They figured the passengers might relish the festivities. Where are Emily and Gerry headed?”

“A park on the other side of the island. Pointa Verdad?”

“Punta Verdad?” Jon’s brow furrowed. “That’s a fair distance from the ship. The tour takes six to eight hours on a dune buggy.”

Althea flinched. “Glad I’m not going, then.”

“It’s a demanding ride. Are you sure they’re planning to—”

The tango music swelled around them and built to a frantic crescendo.

She thrust her hand into the air. “Dip me, darling,” she cried.

Althea jerked herself back before he could respond. Jon wrapped both arms around her waist and held on for dear life. She reclined her head and shouted. “Olé!”

“Ooooooooo-lé,” Jon ground out from between his clenched teeth. He tried to hoist her, but she leaned horizontal again, and he spread his legs farther to support the weight. “Mrs. Jones, can we please stop dipping? Althea?”

“Not yet. Daisy, take a picture.” She waved at her friend, who glided to the couple and pulled a disposable camera from the pocket of her wide-legged black trousers. “Say cheese, handsome.”

With effort, Jon lifted the corners of his lips. Were his arms shaking? It wouldn’t look good if the cruise director dropped a senior passenger on the floor. His eyes swept the crowded stage for any source of relief.

“I’m missing the fun,” said a familiar voice. “Can anyone participate?”

Jon craned his neck and beheld Lacey. The blinding stage lights behind her head hid her expression. To him, the glow resembled a halo, and she was his angel of mercy.

“Yes.” He gasped. “Please.”

Lacey propped a supportive hand behind Althea. “May I cut in, Mrs. Jones?”

“Why, yes, of course, baby.” Althea popped up like a piece of toast and slipped out of his arms.

Jon resisted the urge to grab his spine. Lacey was way smaller, but could his vertebrae handle another round of dipping? She smirked at him as if she read his thoughts. Placing her right hand in his left, she rested the other one on his biceps. It tightened under her touch. Her body moved forward until it was perfectly aligned with his own.

Lacey’s mouth twitched. “Dip me, darling.”

She repeated Althea’s words, but they sounded different coming from Lacey’s soft pink lips.

He twisted her to the side, and she bent over his arm. Her right leg stayed steady underneath to help brace her weight as her left leg stretched out in front at a graceful angle. Jon regarded her upturned face. Heaven help him, she was beautiful.

This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea.

The words repeated on a loop in Lacey’s head. She’d tried hard to keep her distance from Jon the past few days. But when she’d seen him struggling with Althea, the veins popping out on his neck, she’d weakened. He had plenty of muscles, but Mrs. Jones indulged in second and third trips to the dessert bar.

Now Lacey didn’t have to rely on faulty memory for what it felt like to be in his arms. Her whole body downloaded the feeling and saved it to her brain so she’d never forget the sensation. Or the look in his eyes. She recognized that expression but preferred not to put a name to it.

The sound of applause saved her from studying it further.

“Magnifique,” the dance instructor exclaimed. He ran to them as they stood upright. “I know who to call if one of our dancers ever falls under the weather, no?”

“No,” Jon said as Lacey moved out of his arms.

Althea rushed to them. “You two were amazing. Can’t you show us one more time?”

Lacey jumped in before Jon had the chance to comply. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones. No double-dipping. Besides, isn’t it time for bingo in the main lounge?”

“Bingo?”

The woman’s gaze shifted, and Lacey delivered the final blow. “I hear they’re tripling the prize money today.”

Althea’s head snapped in the direction of the exit. She plucked the curly hair extensions from her bun and shoved them in her pocket. “Sorry, Jonny. We can finish another time. I got a pressing engagement.”

She scuttled off the stage as the instructor clapped.

“Everyone take your starting positions. Slow. Slow. Quick-quick. Slow.”

The tango music swirled around them as they stood to the side. A brash accordion whined, and the melody rose in a passionate, tremulous fervor.

Lacey quirked a suspicious eyebrow at Jon. “Don’t tell me you’ve switched jobs already.”

“What do you mean?”

“You never did stay in one position long—always on the hunt for greener grass.”

Jon shook his head. “Cruise director is about as green as it gets unless you’re the captain. I’m just filling in for a sick dance instructor who’s sleeping off his cough medicine. But I didn’t understand I’d be taking my life in my hands. I owe you big-time.”

“Forget it.” Lacey turned to leave, but he caught her.

“Not a chance.” He dragged her back until she was right under his nose. “Please know we all thank you.”

“We?” Lacey looked around.

“Me and every disc in my spinal column.”

Lacey laughed and pulled away to swat him. “You’re right. You do owe me.”

“I wait with bated breath to see how you’ll collect.”

He amped the wattage in his smile, and Lacey experienced the same old equilibrium problem. She should get some motion-sickness pills.

If only the malady was that easy to fix.

“Punta Verdad?” Collins tapped his notepad against his chin. “Where have I heard that name?”

He flipped through the pages as Jon updated the duty rosters in his computer. His toes still ached from dance practice, and there was a strange sensation in his chest. He rubbed the spot. Not exactly pain. A ghostlike hollowness mixed with anticipation had started the moment he held Lacey in his arms. He shook his head. Concentrate.

“Here it is.” Collins thumped a fist on the desk. “Last year, another cruise line caught three busboys transporting narcotics by taping them to their bodies underneath their clothes. When the Mexican authorities questioned them, they confessed they bought the drugs in an isolated location near Punta Verdad, where there weren’t any witnesses. Quite a coincidence the grandmas chose the same place.”

Jon refrained from arguing. He was 99 percent sure the Shippers had nothing to do with the smuggling. But on the 1 percent chance he was mistaken, he’d let Collins have his way. “Are you going to follow them?”

“Can’t. One got a good look at me in Cozumel while I was tailing them. Suspicious old gal. And curious as a cat. In an out-of-the-way site like Punta Verdad, she’d recognize me right away. You’d better go. I’ll set up surveillance on the ship and keep an eye on any possible suspects from the crew.”

“The Shippers are harmless. I’m sure they’re not—”

“Indulge me.” Collins tossed his notepad on the desk. “I’m the one with thirty years of experience. Remember?”

Jon twisted on his chair. How could he forget? Even if the aging detective didn’t seem to excel at his job, thirty years had to mean something, right?

The gentle buzz from his laptop filled the silence as he considered. He had fewer activities to supervise on port days with most of the passengers off the boat. He could get the dance instructor to cover for him. But what excuse could he give the Shippers for his tagging along?