Love Overboard

Chapter 31

SILVERWARE RATTLED AS DINERS LURCHED on their seats. The dining room listed to one side, and Emily’s water sloshed over the rim of her glass. She grabbed the edge of the table.

“My word! Peter must be driving tonight. I hope he’s using the stabilizers.”

Gerry nodded. “How did that boy ever make first mate? He drives like a teenager who just got his permit.”

A light-green tinge colored Daisy’s countenance. She shoved her pasta aside and pressed her fingers between her arched brows. “I discerned the water was a mite choppy. He must be doing his best.”

“Baby, you don’t look so good.” Althea speared a truffle with her fork and popped it in her mouth. “Do you want me to walk you to the room?”

“No thank you.” Daisy grasped her teacup. “Perhaps a sip of Earl Grey will settle my stomach. How many voyages must I make to fully conquer the motion sickness?”

Althea reached out and rubbed her arm. “I can grab you a seasick bag. Just holler.”

“Back to what I was saying.” Emily held on to her water glass with one hand and gestured with the other. “I met Lacey’s parents in the lobby. They were both as nice as could be. Her mother was a quiet little thing, and her father was all that was charming. I’m glad Lacey came from a good home. Of course she would, seeing how kind and conscientious she is.”

“Do you think they’ve met Jon?” asked Althea.

“Knowing Lacey, I doubt it.” Emily sighed. “She’s made progress, but having him meet the folks is a big leap for anyone.”

“We should introduce them.” Althea waved at their server. “Isaac, can you get us a plate of saltine crackers please?” She put down her fork and scooted closer to Daisy. “Those’ll help the nausea.”

“I’m sorry, dear.” Emily patted Daisy’s white knuckles. “I’m completely ignoring your health. Forgive me for being horrible.”

“No such thing.” Daisy waved her hand. “I always get this way on rough-weather days. I’ll be fine as soon as the floor stops rocking.” She stood on unsteady feet as the ship rolled. “But perhaps I will visit the powder room.”

Althea hopped to her side and took her by the arm. “Here, I’ll go with you. I wanted to touch up my lipstick anyway.”

Emily squinted. “I saw Jon walk that direction. Pin him down if you get the chance. Find out anything you can.”

The two headed off with their new assignment, and Gerry quirked her lips at Emily. “What exactly are they supposed to talk to Jon about outside the bathroom?”

“You never know.” Emily took a sip of water. “Every conversation is an opportunity.”

Lacey stood near the staff entrance to the dining room. Her pen was poised above a pad of paper. From this position, she could observe anyone entering or leaving the restrooms. Her feet stood ten inches apart, braced against the jerking of the ship. It had been a rocky evening, and more than one customer had walked by cradling their bellies. The women’s bathroom boasted a line of people out the door.

“Hey, Lace.” Jon walked up, but she was busy writing. “Isn’t this your free shift? I’d like to tell you something.”

“I’m busy.” She barely acknowledged him.

“Doing what?” He peered over her shoulder.

A list of times followed by boxes filled the sheet. Some contained a check mark, and some didn’t. Lacey froze as Jon’s face drew close to her own. Her pulse stuttered, and her cheek tingled when he brushed against her. She tried to act natural as she updated her notes.

“I’ve been systematically checking the stalls in the ladies’ bathroom whenever I get the chance.” She kept her voice low so the women in line didn’t hear her. “This is the only location with writing. That tells me it’s a guest who’s been eating in this dining room. The words are always written in print and far too neat for it to be done by an inebriated passenger. The culprit is fully aware of their actions.”

Jon’s nose was close enough to her neck that his breath warmed her skin, but she continued.

“I’ve checked this restroom five times a day for the past three days and always found writing in the evenings. Last night, I spent my break monitoring the stalls every fifteen minutes and was able to narrow down to a specific window when the writing appeared. When I checked at 8:30 p.m., the stalls were clean. At 8:45 p.m., there were scribbles in the last stall by the wall.”

“Impressive, Miss Sherlock.” He reached around and turned her body. “But how do you plan to discover the right person?”

“I already have.” She savored his shocked expression as she tucked the notepad in her pocket. “I visited the security team and had them show me the footage from that specific time. Five people used the restroom during that period. Two of them were Shippers. I know they’d never do something so childish, so that leaves us with three suspects.”

Lacey grasped his waist in her excitement, oblivious to the people around them. True, this vandalism came at an opportune moment, when she appreciated a distraction from her parents. But even on a good week, she’d be livid at the casual destruction. No one messed with her ship.

Jon enjoyed the proximity of Lacey clutching the sides of his shirt. Her eyes sparkled as she explained her methods. His fingers slid farther down her arms. Could she be any cuter? He noticed Althea and Daisy watching them from the line at the bathroom. They’d report this physical contact to Emily for sure.

“Judging from the language used,” Lacey said, “I’m inclined to think it’s a younger person, and a single suspect fits that description. Going from my gut, she’s the one.”

“Even if that’s true, what can you do about it?” He studied a freckle near her right ear. “Mr. Kapoor told you not to bother the guests.”

Lacey’s gaze sharpened as she focused behind him. “Go with me on this.”

She dragged him by the arm to where the line of women stood near the restroom. It was a popular place at mealtime, and not everyone fit inside as they waited their turn. Two women in sundresses chatted at the front, while a mother and daughter waited behind them. The daughter, a preteen girl, wore a cropped T-shirt, hoodie, ragged jean shorts, and flip-flops—hardly the dress code the cruise line asked the passengers to follow for the dining room. She ignored her mother as she played with her phone.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said as they neared the facilities. “I went to the bathroom earlier.”

Lacey dropped his arm and made a face at him. She leaned in close and whispered, “Follow my lead.” Lacey led him directly behind the line at the door and raised her voice. “They’re closing in on the person writing on the bathroom stalls.”

“Is that so?” Jon matched his volume to hers.

“They’ve identified the specific window of time one of the incidents happened.” She turned her back to the line and pointed at a small black half globe on the ceiling. “When they study the security footage, that will narrow it to a few suspects.”

“It shouldn’t take long after that.” He manufactured an overdramatic scowl.

Lacey rewarded him with a smile and a fervent nod. “That poor lady. You know what comes next when they catch her.”

Jon followed her cue, and he saw the preteen’s head cock, her ear tuned to their conversation. “How do you mean?”

“I bet she doesn’t realize cruise ships have a jail. I wouldn’t want to spend even five minutes in that cell. It’s cold and dark and right next door to the morgue.”

The young girl’s head whipped around. Her eyes bulged like two Ping-Pong balls.

Jon tried to remain deadpan, but it took effort as he looked at Lacey’s butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth expression. “The morgue, huh?”

“Can you imagine being locked up right next to a dead body?” She shivered. “A horrific price to pay for a few scribbles, but we can’t make exceptions. Young or old, the person responsible will suffer big-time.”

“Too bad. I’d rather spend my vacation at the pool than in the brig.”

“Oh well.” Lacey shook her head. “It’s probably too late for her now.”

“Poor lady.” He copied her head movement and adopted a morose expression.

The girl in line squeaked, “Mom, I don’t need to go anymore.”

Jon watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“I’ll be at the table.” She ducked out of line and pulled the hood of her jacket over her head.

He marveled at Lacey, but she wasn’t finished. She spun as the preteen attempted to pass by, blocking her way.

“Oh, excuse me.” She drilled the preteen with her gaze. “I hope you enjoy your vacation—without any problems.”

“Yeah, thanks,” the girl muttered and scurried away.

The corners of Lacey’s mouth lifted. She stuck her chin out and gave a curt nod at the girl’s retreating back. “I bet she doesn’t use this bathroom for the rest of the cruise.”

Jon shuddered. “You could put frost on an ice cube. Is this how you’re going to be with our ch … cherished younger passengers?” He bit the inside of his lip.

Almost slipped that time.

“Young or old, we have to keep them in line.” Lacey’s eyebrow rose. “And speaking of which …” She walked forward to where Althea and Daisy lingered. “Fancy meeting you two here. How are you ladies doing?”

Daisy’s hands cuddled her petite frame. “I’m afraid I’m feeling indisposed.”

Althea looped her arm around Daisy’s waist, supporting her. “She’s seasick again.”

The suspicious look dropped off Lacey in an instant. “I’m sorry. Can I get you anything, Mrs. Masterson?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have some ground anywhere that doesn’t rock, would you?” Daisy said.

Jon stepped up. “My mother used to suffer from the same problem and spent many an ocean voyage huddled on the bathroom floor. Then a housemaid suggested mixing a dash of green tea with ginger ale, and it worked wonders. Should I have the bartender re-create the concoction?”

Althea jiggled her friend. “Give it a try, baby.”

Daisy gave one regal nod as if she were bestowing an honor on him. “Anything would be better than this Tilt-A-Whirl inside of me.”

“I’ll ask the bartender to mix it and meet you at your table.” Jon placed a hand on Lacey’s shoulder. “If you ladies will excuse us, Lacey and I have to discuss something important.”

Althea giggled. “Don’t mind at all. Discuss away.”

Jon stopped to speak with the bartender about the ginger ale for Daisy, then led Lacey to a deserted balcony outside the dining room.

The wind blew silky strands from her neat, upswept hairstyle, and she tucked them behind her ears. “My break is ending. Tonight, I’m passing out confetti poppers at the evening show. I can imagine the disruptions when impatient—”

“Lacey.” He laid one finger on her lips. “I didn’t invite you out here for stargazing. It’s important.”

She stared at him. “Okay.”

He lowered his finger. Now that he’d gained her attention, he wasn’t sure where to start. “There’s a reason I became cruise director for the MS Buckingham.”

“You mean it wasn’t your overwhelming charm that got you the job?” She quirked her head to the side and grinned.

Jon sucked air between his teeth and scratched his head. “My charisma didn’t hurt.” He grew serious. “But an unhappy circumstance led to the vacancy. I’m here because Dexter Newberg, the former cruise director, drowned.”

“What?” She recoiled. “I didn’t hear anything about it.”

“The company kept it quiet on purpose. The authorities suspect foul play, and it appears Newberg was involved in a cocaine-smuggling operation that’s been using Monarch ships.”

“That’s been what?” Lacey’s nostrils flared. “They’re using our ships to transport drugs?”

Jon took hold of her elbows. “We’re attempting to figure out how they’re doing this, but it’s hard to keep track of a thousand crew members and five times that many passengers. Your help would be much appreciated.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to put those deductive abilities to work for something bigger than a bathroom scribbler.” He ran his hands down her arms until his fingers clasped hers. “Lacey Anderson, I’ve been alone too long. Will you do me the honor of joining forces to catch the smugglers?”

Lacey’s thoughts swelled in a giant tidal wave of questions.

Cocaine on Monarch Cruises? Who was behind the operation? How were they getting the drugs on and off the ship?

And why was Jon—

Her eyes narrowed. “Please don’t misunderstand my next question. I think you’re pretty great, but … why did Monarch ask you to investigate?”

“Why?” He looked to the right and let go of her hands. “You don’t believe I’ll do a good job?”

“That’s not what I meant. But you’d never even been a cruise director before our last voyage. Why did they ask you to oversee a crisis this important?”

He wasn’t answering. Had she hurt his feelings? But her question was a legitimate one. Was there something he wasn’t telling her?

Jon cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Lace. There are certain details I can’t reveal at the moment. This is a very complicated problem. Two other Monarch ships have been involved in recent drug busts. One more scandal, and our reputation as a family line is shot. I’m not the only one involved in the investigation. We beefed up the security team for this ship, and the company hired a retired FBI agent. With your help, we can catch these guys in no time. You know every crew member on this boat and would be the first to notice anything suspicious.”

Suspicious. The word rang a bell.

“Jon!” She grabbed his wrist. “I remember one passenger. He was skulking around near the kitchen on deck eleven. There was definitely something off about him.”

He straightened. “Did you catch his name?”

“No.”

“What did he look like?”

“Late fifties. Mostly gray hair. Wearing an awful Hawaiian shirt that barely covered his potbelly.”

“Aw, cupcake.” A new voice spoke. “Do you have to be so mean?”

Lacey jerked to the side. The uncooperative man from the galley hallway stood at the entrance, his arms crossed over a different but equally loud printed shirt.

He sauntered onto the balcony and shut the glass door behind him. “That’s no way to talk about a guy who’s offering you his protection and expertise.”

“Lacey”—Jon grimaced—“this is Reid Collins, the retired agent I told you about. He’s been working on this case since our last voyage. Mr. Collins, this is Miss Lacey Anderson. Please address her with respect.”

Collins popped a tiny white bubble and pulled the wad of gum from his mouth. He tossed it over the railing and held out spit-covered fingers.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Anderson.”

Lacey stared at the saliva-coated hand and glanced at Jon. If this was the best assistance corporate had given him, no wonder he needed help.