Love Overboard

Chapter 13

LACEY YANKED A SWEATSHIRT OVER her head and left her hair trapped under the collar. Her polka-dot-pajama-clad legs sprinted down the passageway. She pressed her cell to her ear.

“Why on earth are you in the lost-and-found storage?”

“To find something that’s missing, dear.” Emily’s voice faded in and out like she wasn’t talking directly into the phone. “But it’s pitch-dark in here.” A crash sounded. “Oooops. I hope that wasn’t valuable.”

Lacey kicked it up a notch. “Go out in the hall and wait for me. I’ll be there soon.”

She hurtled through the empty corridors. Most passengers were smart enough to be asleep by 3:00 a.m. But not Emily Windsor. That woman could cause trouble in a mausoleum. Lacey reached deck zero, where the crew stored any unclaimed items. She sped by utility spaces and workrooms. No sleeping cabins on this floor. Or people, for that matter. She saw the storage room, skidded to a stop outside the open door, and stuck her head in.

“Emily?”

No answer.

What if she was hurt? What if a heavy object had fallen on her? Lacey entered the unlit room and waited for her eyes to adjust. She barely made out the rows of shelves, stacked to the ceiling with indistinguishable items of all shapes and sizes. Her fingers skittered along the wall, but she couldn’t find the switch. Lacey pulled up the flashlight app on her phone and shone it around.

Empty golf bag. Teddy bear. Pi?ata.

But not a sign of Emily.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind her. Lacey turned and spied a tall, familiar silhouette in the doorway. She aimed the light his direction. “Jon?”

“Lace?” He recoiled as the beam hit his retinas.

She pointed it away from his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Emily texted and said she was poking around in the dark. I came before she hurt herself. What about you?”

“Same.” Lacey swung her arm, and the flashlight illuminated the semiorganized chaos. “I don’t see her. She must have given up.”

“That’s a relief.” Jon crossed the threshold. He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt with his favorite basketball team’s logo. “I’ve heard about this place, but this is my first time visiting.” He pointed at a pair of antlers on a top shelf. “Is that a mounted moose head?”

“Believe it or not, that isn’t the weirdest thing in here.” Lacey waved at a shelf. “I saw a—”

The hallway door banged shut. Darkness enveloped them, broken by the tiny circle of light from her phone.

“Hey!” Lacey rushed to grab the knob.

Locked.

She pounded on the door. “Hello? There are people in here.” She rattled the knob again. “Help!”

Jon stepped behind her and hammered a fist above her head. “Hello? We’re locked in.”

Lacey tried to ignore the heat from the masculine body hovering a centimeter from her back. She inched forward and knocked louder. Between the two of them, they made enough noise to raise every sleeping passenger on the ship, but no one appeared. Lacey rapped until her knuckles ached.

She trained her phone on Jon. “You’re strong. Can’t you break it open?”

“That door is made of metal.” He squinted against the light and pushed her hand down. “A fractured shoulder might hinder my work performance. Why don’t you call somebody?”

“Right.” Lacey laughed while she pulled up her favorites list. “I’m not thinking straight. I’ll call my roommate. She can come let us out.”

“Does she have a key?”

Lacey paused. “No. I’m not sure who does, but Abby can find out.” She punched the name and drummed her finger against the side of the phone as it rang.

“Pick up,” she muttered. “Pick up. Pick up. Pick—Abby? Can you come to the lost-and-found storage? We’re locked in here. Hello, Abby?”

Jon moved around in the darkness while she talked. “Can you point your phone over here?”

Lacey switched her phone to speaker mode and shone the light on the wall. Jon located the switch and flicked it. Nothing happened. He tried again.

Down. Up. Down. Up.

Still nothing.

He flicked it one last time. “They must not have changed the bulbs in a while.”

Lacey tapped the speaker off and held the phone to her ear.

“Abby, wake up!” She stomped her foot against the tile floor and spoke very slowly when her roommate answered. “Jon and I are locked in the lost and found. Find someone with a key and get us out … Of course we didn’t do it on purpose. It was … we were … it’s too complicated to explain. Please come get us.”

Lacey ended the call and held the flashlight at eye level. “Abby’s pretty useless after eleven o’clock. Even she admits it.” She explored the contents of the room. “Maybe there’s a spare key inside here for emergencies.”

She traced the walls and racks with the beam from her light, but no key appeared. The scent of mildew and aging leather filled the room. Her throat tightened as the towering shelves of junk closed in on her. She grabbed a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth and waved it around.

“Who would bring this on a Caribbean cruise?”

Jon shrugged. “Someone who wanted to go on a picnic?”

How had she wound up locked in a glorified closet with Jonathan King? It was as if someone wanted to—

Her confusion at the unexpected imprisonment cleared as the puzzle pieces snapped together.

“Wait a minute. Why did Emily text you if she’d already called me?” Lacey pinched the bridge of her nose, and the air rattled in her throat as she exhaled.

“You mean they—” Jon laughed out loud and slapped his hand against the door. “I think I’ve watched this scene in one of those cheesy holiday movies my sister adores.”

“Emily and her accomplices must’ve bought a ticket for the same movie.” Lacey threw the tablecloth on a shelf and sank to one of the few empty spaces on the floor, right next to the entrance. “They. Will. Pay.”

“Why do you always assume the Shippers are doing it on purpose?” Jon sat next to her in the darkened room, leaned his head back too hard, and banged it against the wall. “Ow!”

“Are you okay?” Lacey stirred beside him.

“Fine. I misjudged the distance.”

Lacey half-heartedly thumped on the door once more. “Help! Anyone there?”

“Give it a rest, Lace. Who’s going to be checking the lost and found at three in the morning?”

The light flickered and disappeared.

“What—” She checked her phone. “No. No. No!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m out of battery.” She hissed in a long, frustrated growl. “It was almost dead when I plugged it in to charge before going to bed. Let’s use your phone.”

Jon squirmed. “I didn’t bring it.”

“Why wouldn’t you—”

“I was in a hurry.”

They sat in silence, the forced intimacy of the darkened space pressing in on them. Their arms rested side by side against the wall. Lacey sensed his body moving with each breath. She shifted away and hunched her shoulders.

He cleared his throat. “If it really was the Shippers, they should’ve left us a few snacks. I’m starving.”

“The world could be ending, and you’d still be searching for a taco truck.”

He laughed. “The lady knows me too well. I’m so hungry I can smell those cherry tarts the chef was cooking earlier.”

Lacey sniffed. “I don’t smell anything.”

“No. I’m sure I smell them.” Jon’s body leaned toward her.

“We’re on the opposite side of the ship from the kitchen. There’s no way.”

He drew closer to her shadowed figure and inhaled. “It’s coming from you. Did you smuggle some tarts without telling me?”

“Stop being stupid.” She shoved him, but he came even closer. “Are you planning to frisk me for pastries?”

“I can smell them. You ate one without telling me, didn’t you?”

“What are you—Oh.” Lacey put a hand to her lips.

“Ready to admit it?”

“No. I just remembered.” She rummaged in the front pocket of her sweatshirt, pulled something out, and waved it under his nose. “Is this what you’re smelling?”

Jon grabbed her fingers. “I knew it.” He tried to wrestle it from her, and she smacked him on the back of the head with her free hand.

“It’s my lip gloss, you idiot.” She popped the plastic cap off. “Cherry Surprise.”

Jon plucked the tube from Lacey’s fingers but didn’t let go of her hand. He held the gloss under his nose. The sweet, fruity scent filled his nostrils. He looked at Lacey, or what he could distinguish. The crack of light under the doorway helped him make out her shape but not her expression.

He loosened his grip, and his thumb slid down to rest on her palm. Lacey jerked her hand away and smoothed her hair. She tugged at the strands trapped under the neckline of her sweatshirt.

“What’s taking Abby so long?” she said.

He passed her lip gloss back. “I imagine she had to wake up whoever has the key.”

The sliver of light between the door and the floor vanished. Lacey’s faint outline disappeared, and total darkness engulfed them.

“W-what happened?” Her voice trembled.

She fidgeted beside him. Jon moved and bumped into a soft object at face level. The downy skin of her cheek grazed his as she turned. A puff of air told him they were pressed nose to nose. It was a miracle she didn’t pull away.

He withdrew a centimeter. “Are you all right?”

“It’s really dark in here,” she whispered.

Her breath grazed his mouth. Jon closed his eyes, not that it mattered in the windowless room. He swallowed. The sweet cherry scent beckoned him.

Focus.

What if Emily wasn’t behind this? What if the drug runners were onto his investigation and locked him in here on purpose? He had to stay alert and not get distracted by anything or anybody. That’s what he kept telling himself even as he leaned forward. His lips found hers easily, as if the room were lit by a thousand candles. He’d dreamed of kissing Lacey again many times. But never in a crowded storage closet.

A full three seconds later, she eased away.

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded unnaturally high. “It’s hard to see anything in this cave.”

He froze. That’s how she was going to play it? An accidental collision. Her lips had moved against his for the briefest moment. He was sure of it.

“Forget it.” Jon slid over and folded his arms in front of him. He flopped back, and his head hit the wall for the second time.

“Are you okay?” Lacey brushed his arm with hers.

He scooted to the left. “Fine and dandy, friend.”

The scent of cherries hovered under his nose, and he scrubbed at his lips. When would he learn? Romantic progress with Lacey was like sailing through the Bermuda Triangle.

A person was capsized before he knew it.