Love Overboard

Chapter 12

“I FOUND A NEW LEAD.”

Collins waggled his eyebrows twice as he smirked around the giant wad of gum in his mouth. People promenaded the deck in everything from sequins to Speedos. An older couple approached from the left in formal clothing, and Jon held up a hand.

“Yes, sir.” He patted Collins on the back. “I’d be happy to show you where the gym is.”

“Gym?” Collins blanched.

Jon shoved him around the corner. They walked down the hall until they came to a recess in the corridor that led to a stairwell. He pushed the detective inside. “What did you find?”

“While you were keeping an eye on the little old ladies in Punta Verdad, I overheard a couple of kitchen workers talking in Spanish.”

“You speak Spanish?”

“A few words. Anyway, they repeated lechuga at least ten times.”

“Lechuga?” Jon paused. “You mean lettuce?”

“Exactly. Are you fluent?”

“No, but I grew up in Florida. It’s easy to learn a little—Never mind. What does lettuce have to do with anything?”

“It’s street slang. Lettuce can mean marijuana.”

Jon waited for more, but Collins stood silent. “It can also mean ‘lettuce.’ They work in the kitchen. They might’ve been talking about the dinner salads.”

Collins pursed his lips and shook his head. “Trust me. They weren’t talking about dinner. They had that tone in their voice, if you know what I mean.”

Jon censored his first response before answering. How did this guy get recommended? Did the general manager owe Collins a favor? “That’s not much to go on. Even if they were talking about weed, it might have nothing to do with the case. We just left a Mexican port where the government decriminalized marijuana use. Perhaps they made poor recreational choices on their afternoon break. Every major drug bust on Monarch ships involved cocaine.”

“A store can sell more than one product.” Collins stopped smacking his gum and held it between his teeth. “I’m not saying these are the guys, but at least it’s a lead. You got anything better?”

Jon ran a hand through his hair. “No.”

“So we dig into these two and keep our radar on. Agreed?”

He nodded without conviction. He was beginning to think they should hire more detectives. Collins’s less-than-stellar performance gave him little hope for cracking the case. If it were only a few grams of weed, the company wouldn’t call for a full-blown investigation. Someone died. A Monarch Cruises employee. And it was Jon’s job to make sure it never happened again.

Lacey lifted her foot out of the navy pump, then twisted her weary ankle in circles. The massive front counter hid her toes from the customers as she stretched them. In many ways, the MS Buckingham was a giant, floating hotel. And tonight, she was on desk duty. It wouldn’t have been half as bad if she hadn’t just spent the afternoon rehashing the past with Jon.

“Thanks again for filling in, Lacey,” her coworker Malaya said for the second time that evening. “Something’s going around the ship, and Francine spent half the morning puking her guts out.”

Lacey made a face. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hard enough to stand for ten hours a day without adding a fever on top of that. You two must have feet of steel.”

“But still, you’re losing time off by helping me. I promise I won’t forget it.”

“How about you do a load of laundry for me this weekend, and we’ll call it even?” Lacey checked a card and typed a new spa request into the computer.

Malaya didn’t answer.

“Deal?” Lacey looked up.

“There he is.” Malaya’s hands fluttered to her hair and smoothed the sides.

Lacey pointed her attention to the computer screen. She didn’t have to ask who Malaya meant. The arrival of the gorgeous new cruise director had caused a stir akin to what a celebrity would among the female staff. New shades of lipstick and padded bras abounded. It seemed the MS Buckingham was hosting its own personal beauty pageant.

“How are you, Malaya?” A familiar male voice approached.

Lacey ignored the cream-coated baritone and typed away on her keyboard.

“Hi, Jon,” the woman simpered. “I’m wonderful.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lacey saw him place a hand on the counter.

“Can you do me a favor?” he said. “This envelope is addressed to the home office. Will you mail it, please?”

“Of course. It’s no trouble. My pleasure. I’d be glad to do it. I’ll take care of it right now.”

Lacey refrained from rolling her eyes. Her fingers tapped the keys a little harder. How many different ways could Malaya say yes?

Jon patted the shiny wooden counter. “You’re a lifesaver. Thanks.”

Lacey’s gaze rose when he walked away. What a relief. He hadn’t even spoken to her. Although, she was standing two feet from his nose. Someone else might consider it rude. The man could’ve at least said “hello.” She’d made a point of saying they were friends during their trip to Punta Verdad. Come to think of it, he hadn’t spoken to her since they reboarded the ship. Was that any way to treat a friend?

Malaya’s upper half flopped onto the desk, her face pressed against the wood, and her body shuddered with a sigh. She switched cheeks so she was pointed at Lacey. “He talked to me.”

“Congratulations,” Lacey muttered.

Perhaps Mr. King had finally gotten the hint and backed off. No more surprise lemonade deliveries. Her life would be a lot easier going forward.

“He flat-out ignored her.” Emily paced in between the Shippers. Her feet reached the end of the bed, and she spun around. “Didn’t even say ‘hello.’”

“That’s a bad sign.” Althea stuck a straw in her mouth. “He’s always been the eager one.” She took another swig of her chocolate raspberry smoothie.

Daisy passed Althea a tissue when a splotch of ice cream dripped on her dress. “The male ego can only take a certain amount of rejection.”

“I agree.” Emily swerved around the bed and poked at a chart on the wall. “Ladies, we need to do damage control. It’s time for plan B.”

“Plan B?” Daisy recoiled. “But it’s so … so …”

Gerry finished her thought. “Illegal.”

Emily waved away their objections. “If they won’t speak to each other, we throw the one trick at them they can’t ignore.”

“Which trick is that?” Althea dabbed at the stain.

“Proximity.” Emily’s eyes glinted. “After all, two’s company. A ship full of people is a crowd. We isolate them somewhere nice and quiet and lock them in until they talk things out.”

Gerry’s lips twisted. “Talking things out in Cozumel made their relationship worse. What makes you so sure this plan will work? What if Lacey has a key to the door? What if an employee walks by as we lock them inside? What if one of them pulls out a cell phone and calls for help? Are you going to pick their pockets before you put them in there?”

“Don’t be silly.” Emily pointed at the large paper. “I’ve made an operation plan that includes every contingency. I chose the lost-and-found storage for a reason. Deck zero is the least populated place on the ship. The storage door is usually kept propped open because no one has a key to the room but the head steward, the maintenance man, and the members of the cleaning crew. We’ll make sure to distract anyone who tries to go down that hallway so they can’t hear any shouting.”

“And the cell phones?” Gerry asked.

Emily let out a slow breath as if the question were a waste of time. “Lacey will most likely call someone close to her, right?”

“Right,” the other three chimed.

“And who is Lacey’s closest friend on board?”

“Her roommate,” Daisy said.

“Exactly! We monitor Abigail O’Brien.” Emily flipped her right hand. “And then we block her from helping them if she gets a call.” She flipped her left hand.

“How do we do that?” Althea asked.

“By whatever means necessary.” Emily studied her battle plan and smoothed a curling piece of tape back on the wall. “The plan is foolproof. They’ll be locked in tighter than Alcatraz.”

Gerry cringed. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”