Chapter 16 #2
“Bocce! It comes from the Italian word for bowl, boccia! Now, the point of throwing your ball is to get it as close to the target ball, or the pallino. And one of the best things about the game is that you can play it alone and improve your own skill, play with one other person
or play in teams, as we shall play today!”
“Hm, okay, but you’re the king of bocce, so it seems. Who is on your team?” Daniel asked him.
“Sally, of course, and—”
“Me and Gina!” Daniel told him. “That leaves my charming hulk of a brother with Chloe and Wes and . . . Oh, man, Celia messed
it all up by not coming! Jeff is going to be the odd man out!”
“I can supervise!” Jeff suggested. “Call it as I see it. I’ll be the emcee. No, wait, you don’t call it an emcee . . . I’ll be the referee, the umpire, the game official!”
“Ooh. Maybe I’d rather be that and let you play, Daniel!” Sally said.
Wes knew how he could fix the problem. He pretended that his phone was ringing. “Excuse me a sec!” he told the others, stepping
back to feign a conversation.
“Well, I’m afraid we’ve just had the perfect solution,” he said apologetically, turning back to them.
“What’s up?” Edward asked him.
“I’m afraid I’ve got to get back down to my computer. There’s been a problem at the marina, and I’ve got to get the right
people working on it.” He wrinkled his nose. “That’s the problem with being the sole proprietor in a small business. I mean,
it’s great to be your own boss but if anything happens, you’re in charge!”
He paused for a moment. He had told George that he’d be the one looking out for Edward.
And Sally.
Two accidents on this ship where Sally was concerned were two too many.
He saw that Chloe was looking at him and she nodded gravely. He lowered his head, smiling.
She would stay with Edward and Sally, stick to them like glue.
And she was good, in so many ways, of course. She’d have never been paired with him on this mission if she wasn’t amazing
at her job. He needed to have real faith in her.
And he did.
“Go!” she told him. “I’ll have to try to uphold the family bocce ball honor on my own! Do what you need to do, Wes, seriously.
We have all day at sea.”
“Right! So. Have lots of fun for me, okay? Chloe, I’ll call you in a bit and let you know how it’s going. Hopefully, I’ll be out in time for Edward’s lecture.”
Wes had no idea why, but he couldn’t shake the idea that something was up. Something was up with Amelia being in the hospital
rather than the brig. He smiled as he headed back inside ahead of the crowd, anxious to get to an elevator alone.
As he left the group, he saw Celia in front of him, walking toward their group.
“Finished already?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “I asked them to come play bocce ball, too. They’re just going to hang around the pool. Where are you going?”
“My cabin. Work—you know. When you’re the sole owner . . .”
“Ah! Well, I’m so sorry! See you tonight!” Celia told him, hurrying on by.
Wes shook his head. She was an extremely unpleasant person, but . . .
Amelia had been different.
She had seemed decent at first, and he had to admit, just from the rudeness of her behavior, he’d assumed that Celia had to
be the main culprit behind everything. And, maybe, she still was. Maybe Amelia was just a bitter woman who couldn’t begin
to figure out why a man like Edward Thompson had chosen a woman like Sally over her. Had she meant for Sally just to get sick—or
had she wanted the woman to die? They might never know.
He headed off to the elevator on the hospital level.
Since the spa and another of the beautiful lounging decks were accessible though the hallway as well, there were several people moving along the area, some headed off for facials, massages or other such treatments, some just looking out for cool and beautiful views of the sea as the ship traveled along.
He would never know why, never really understand “gut” or instinct, but he knew from the time he approached the door to the
hospital area that something was wrong.
The curtains were closed in the little room where Edward and Sally had once been during their separate “accidents.”
But the doctor was behind the reception desk, frowning and studying a book of notes.
He looked up and saw Wes and greeted him right away.
“Hello, of course, you’re here. Always checking on the welfare of others! I know that you’re concerned when George isn’t with
Edward, but he was incredibly helpful to me today. One of my nurses had a family emergency. We had to leave her in Jamaica
so that she could hop on a flight home. And this Amelia thing . . . her symptoms suggested she’d eaten or consumed something
that caused serious food poisoning, but I’ve worked on this ship a while and I guarantee you, the food is good. And safe!
I mean, that’s one thing—when a well-known chain of gourmet restaurants opens a cruise line, food is going to be one of the
major assets on board!”
“I’ve been extremely curious about that myself,” Wes told him. “I’m with you. I believe with my whole heart that the chefs
on this ship are cautious to the extreme.”
“Well, I don’t have the answers. She hasn’t been sick since she’s been here and despite the incredible tools and services
they’ve managed for the hospital on this ship, I have no way of testing vomit that has been compromised with cleaning fluids
since, of course, the security officers were horrified by the mess and don’t think like crime scene channels when they have
a sick prisoner.”
“Crime scene?” Wes said.
“I’m sorry! I mean, all those guys wanted to do was get the place cleaned up, which is too bad, just in case there was something
bad in the food. Anyway, I believe that Amelia will soon be fine and that, according to the captain’s wishes, she will be
returned to the brig.”
“Is it all right if I take a look and see how she and George are doing?” Wes asked.
“Of course. You, sir, are always welcome here!” the doctor assured him.
Kilbride smiled at him and set his hands firmly on the desk as the ship made a perceptible movement.
“We’ve got some waves today!” he said.
“Waves may be rocking us around a bit, but it’s still so beautiful out!” Wes said reflectively.
“Right, beautiful.” For a moment, Kilbride appeared to be confused. He frowned, looking at Wes.
“You needed something?” he said.
“Checking in on George and Amelia,” Wes reminded him.
“Right. George and Amelia.”
In a matter of seconds it seemed, Doctor Kilbride had gone from being perfectly lucid to a man on the edge of dementia.
“Doctor—” Wes began.
But before he could say anything further, Dr. Kilbride blinked once and fell to the floor.
“Doctor!”
Wes cried the word and hurried around the reception desk. Kilbride’s eyes were closed; he was lying in a heap on the floor.
Wes fell to his knees, checking the man’s breathing and pulse.
Pulse, weak, breathing shallow. But he was alive.
Wes hefted the man up in his arms and hurried quickly to push open the door to the nearest hospital room and lay him out on the bed, checking his vitals again.
Thankfully, he was alive.
Drugged.
Wes left Kilbride to hurry into the room where Amelia had been earlier, where George should have been keeping watch over her.
There was no sign of Amelia Swenson. Or George.
Swearing softly to himself, he pulled out his phone. He called Chloe’s number.
No answer.
He tried Edward. No answer.
As he started to head out, one of Kilbride’s nurses came into the waiting room, speaking as she arrived. “Got it, Doc, just
as you ordered! Giant black coffee with exactly two teaspoons of sugar!”
She froze, seeing Wes.
“Get in there and take care of Dr. Kilbride. How long have you been gone? Were Amanda and George here when you left?” he demanded.
The poor young woman looked distressed and confused. “Yes, of course, and there was a security officer right outside . . .
I thought that maybe he’d come in here. But—”
“They’re gone, Amanda, George and the security officer. And whoever did this dosed Dr. Kilbride with something! I’m going
after them. Get in there, and please, please, please take good care of Kilbride. Pulse is weak, breathing is shallow—but he’s
alive. Keep him that way! I’ll send an officer but if you can lock yourself in here—”
“Oh, I can, and I will!” she swore. “I just don’t know why the officer would have left, why George would have allowed Amelia
out,” the young woman told him, her fear apparent in her eyes.
“Lock the door behind me!”
Wes hurried out of the hospital cabin on the ship, waiting just seconds to hear the click of a lock and the slide of a bolt
behind him.
He tried Chloe again as he raced for the elevator. Hurrying up to the kids’ pool area with the other games, he found the little
bocce ball court at the open deck toward the back.
There was no sign of Edward, Sally, Gina, Celia, Jeff, Daniel or Broderick.
This time he called the captain, and he was grateful when the call went through. He searched through the people on the deck.
“Amelia and George and one of your officers have disappeared and worse,” he explained quickly. “Chloe had eyes on Edward at
the bocce ball court, but that whole crew has disappeared, too, except . . .”
As he spoke, he saw that Daniel McClintock was stretched out on one of the loungers. He hurried toward him, still speaking
with the captain, telling him to get on the security footage from the decks and the hallways, to find out where the group
had gone.
“I found one! Back to you, please get on that, immediately!”
Captain Millbrook was evidently upset, but he was a strong man who had weathered many rough seas in the literary sense, and
in life as well, Wes imagined.
He ended the call to hunker down by Daniel McClintock.
“Daniel!”
No response.
“Daniel, damn it, Daniel!”
No response.
He shook the man. His eyes rolled in their sockets, and he tried to focus on Wes. “I . . . I didn’t know . . . I . . . He means to kill me. I . . . I tried . . . the needle . . .”