Love Overboard

Chapter 17

TWO CHILDREN COVERED IN STREAKY sunblock squealed at the splash pad while their mother worked on her tan and scrolled through her phone. Jon passed rows and rows of empty deck chairs as he tracked down the hired detective who was, once again, missing. The ship was easier to maneuver with most of the passengers enjoying the tropical pleasures of Puerto Limón. He spotted Collins wandering near a bevy of bikini-clad coeds playing volleyball. The investigator had traded his messy Hawaiian shirt for a tank top molded so tight it revealed the man’s outie belly button.

Jon caught his attention and waved him over to a pair of adjustable recliners. “You said you were going to follow those kitchen workers if they got off the boat. Did you get their names?”

“Not necessary.” Collins stretched out on the chaise and propped up his feet, his customary wad of gum missing. “It was a dead end.”

“How so? What made you cross them off the—”

“They were talking about salads. You were right.”

“Excuse me, Jon.” One of the college girls bounced beside them. “Our team is desperate for another member. Do you happen to play volleyball?”

“Not today I don’t.” Jon pointed at a trio of guys in the hot tub with their tongues practically hanging out. “But I bet one of those gentlemen will be happy to accommodate you.”

She peered their direction, gave an unenthusiastic grunt, and left. Collins’s elbow jabbed him in the lower leg.

The detective waggled his eyebrows. “Must be nice having every beautiful girl on the boat calling your name. Wish I’d become a cruise director instead of an agent.”

Jon pushed away the horrific mental image of Collins in thigh-high white shorts. Every past and current cruise passenger should count their blessings the man had chosen the FBI and their suits. Though Jon shuddered to think what damage the lackluster detective might have done to the bureau.

He straddled the chair across from Collins. “I asked the main office to cross-reference our passenger list with everyone who’s sailed on a Monarch ship this year. If we find a person with multiple trips in a short period of time, they might be a likely suspect.”

“When do you expect the results?”

“Today, I hope. Tomorrow at the latest. The computer can generate the names quickly, but I asked a friend at corporate to organize them in specific groups. It depends on how long it takes him.”

“What kind of groups?”

“Various factors. Age. If they’re traveling with children. Do they have a criminal history? We’ll focus on the most logical suspects first and then work our way through the list. In the meantime, we monitor everybody as best we can.”

Collins made no effort to move. The so-called professional appeared to be more concerned with his tan than catching the criminals.

Jon ground his teeth. “Why don’t you station yourself by the gangplank and keep an eye on people returning to the boat? Take note of anyone with a suspicious amount of luggage or shopping bags.”

“Couldn’t hurt.” Collins checked his watch and stood. “But first, I’m gonna hit the head. Who knows when I’ll get a chance if I start tailing someone.”

The detective took the long way to the restroom—which included a complete circle around the volleyball bunnies. Jon rubbed his left temple. No time for a headache. He needed to make a circuit of the downtown shops. If any passengers were involved in the smuggling, they wouldn’t travel far to make a pickup. But once Jon returned, he’d make an urgent call to corporate. When the MS Buckingham pulled into home port, he wanted a replacement for Collins. Fast.

“I wish I were you.” Abby’s upper half hung over the top bunk as Lacey prepared for her night out with Ricardo. “I haven’t been on a date since I can’t remember when.”

“Why not?” Lacey buckled a pair of strappy stilettos on her feet. “I bet plenty of guys would jump at the chance.”

“Who has the energy for romance after taking care of a hundred kids all day?” Abby flopped on her mattress and moaned. “Why did I think being a childcare worker on a cruise ship was a great way to use my teaching degree?”

“Why did you?” Lacey applied one more spritz of hair spray to the silky French twist at the back of her head.

“I planned to spend my free time dating handsome crew members, like you’re doing.” Abby thumped her alarm clock with a forefinger and yelped. “Oops! I was supposed to be at a water balloon fight five minutes ago.” She scrambled down the ladder and raced to the door. “Have enough fun for both of us.”

Lacey blew a kiss at her exiting roomie and spun in front of the mirror. Her cranberry vintage-style pantsuit skimmed her curves in all the right places. It reminded her of a costume from an old black-and-white movie. She felt glamorous and mysterious, so unlike her normal, starchy self.

Lacey reached for her lip gloss but paused. She stared at the Cherry Surprise and then her reflection. A soft pink tinge infused her cheeks. She placed the tube in her bag and pulled out a vibrant red lipstick instead. It’d been two and a half years since her last date. Two years and seven months, to be exact. Might as well make the most of it.

She finished primping and checked the clock on her dresser. Time to go. Lacey hurried to their meeting spot as fast as her high heels allowed. The gangplank was empty as most of the passengers had disembarked hours earlier. She walked down the metal ramp, leaning forward on her toes to keep her stilettos from catching in the grated floor. Ricardo stood on the pier, hiding something behind him. He wore white slacks and a black silk shirt. His thick curly hair gleamed in the sunlight. The perfect picture of an exotic Latin suitor.

Lacey tottered as she hit the pavement. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It was worth the wait.” Ricardo scoped her out from head to heels. He presented a bouquet from behind his back with a flourish.

Lacey’s smile faltered at the dozen white roses. Not exactly unique. Or colorful. But what kind of wretch was she to be disappointed? Most women would faint dead away over the beautiful flowers.

“Thank you very much.” She took them and held the roses in front of her bridal-style. Was there a less conspicuous way to carry them? Lacey tried laying them in the crook of her arm. More awkward.

“I’ll go put them in my cabin.”

“No, no. I made reservations. We should leave.” Ricardo placed a hand at her waist and urged her down the pier. “You will love this restaurant. The owner is a friend of mine.”

Lacey wobbled like a baby deer taking its first steps as she tried to keep up in her sky-high stilettos. Ricardo held out his arm, and she grabbed the offered lifeline. New memories were waiting to be made.

Four pairs of eyes pointed at the departing couple. The Shippers lined the deck railing, watching the date unfold. Emily observed each interaction with her binoculars, and Gerry took notes in the binder. When the couple was out of sight, the women turned and sat at a shaded table.

“I didn’t see that coming,” said Althea. She dug around in her fanny pack and unwrapped a tortue. Her granddaughter bought the special candies in the French Quarter and mailed them to her at regular intervals. Althea bit into the creamy mix of chocolate, caramel, and pecans and talked around the gooey mess. “We should’ve stuck with Ricardo in the first place. It’s obvious Lacey prefers him.”

“Do we change our target again?” Daisy asked.

“Perhaps.” Emily drummed her fingers against the tabletop, running the options in her mind. “Gerry, read me the information we gathered on Ricardo.”

Gerry flipped through the binder and scanned the page. “Ricardo Montoya. Twenty-six years old. Born in Juárez, Mexico. Youngest in the family, with four older sisters. Graduated culinary school three years ago and—”

“Please stop,” Emily moaned. “Dry and boring, like his relationship with Lacey would be. No sparks. We vetted Ricardo before Jon came. He seemed a good choice at the time, but now …” Her fingers restarted their beat. “Something feels off. We should follow them. They were on foot. If we grab a bicycle taxi, we can catch up.”

“Why don’t we take the path of least resistance?” Daisy asked. “Lacey likes Ricardo. Ricardo likes Lacey. Easy.”

Emily slammed her fist, and the glass tabletop rattled. “Easy isn’t always better. Can’t you see that?”

Silence.

Gerry and Althea averted their gazes.

Daisy blinked twice. She placed her oversize sunglasses on her trim nose and rose from the table. “I’m a bit tired. Perhaps I’ll lie down for a spell.”

She glided away, and tension took her place. The distant noise of children playing in the pool accentuated the awkwardness. Emily brushed at a loose thread on her shirt.

Althea crossed her arms in front of her generous bosom. “You’re going to apologize for that, right?”

Emily deflated. “I’m sorry. This case has got me all twisted. I’ll be sure to make it right with Daisy.” She leaned back and glared at the bright Mexican sky. “Lord, why won’t Lacey cooperate? Did you have to put so much stubborn in that girl?”

“Takes one to know one,” said Gerry.

Emily cut her eyes over, but her friend’s face hid behind the usual romance novel. No use denying the statement. Once she accepted a mission, it was full speed ahead. Emily prided herself on her stick-to-itiveness. But her impatience was another story, a chronic flaw that caused her to hurt the people she loved.

The chair legs scraped against the deck floor as she stood. “At least one of you stay here and report when Lacey returns. If you get tired, call me, and I’ll relieve you. I need to find Daisy.”

Althea grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Try the art gallery. She wanders around there when she’s upset.”

Emily left them on guard duty. She wanted to race down the gangplank and keep tabs on Lacey. But friendship was more important than matchmaking. Time to do something she had plenty of practice at—apologizing.