Chapter 10
“What do you mean you had a run-in with the rescued passengers from the yacht?” Cat asked.
Millie told them the story, about how she, her cousins and friends were checking out Bimini’s Yacht Club. “Before I could stop Scout, he boarded Sea-nanigans. A passenger snatched him up. I thought for a minute he was going to toss him over the side.”
Cat’s hand flew to her mouth. “Throw Scout in the water?”
“I apologized. He handed him back. He and his friends started laughing at us, mocking us,” Millie said.
“Jerks,” Annette fumed. “Maybe we should have let them fend for themselves.”
“Karma will catch up with them,” Cat predicted.
“As we were leaving the Yacht Club, a guy carrying a toolbox walked by us and boarded their boat.”
“So they were having mechanical issues,” Annette said. “If you look below the name, you’ll notice it’s from Miami.”
“Which means it could very well have been the vessel sending the distress signal Nic and the other officers intercepted on our way to Bimini.”
“You had better give Patterson a heads-up,” Annette said. “In case it’s the same bunch you ran into.”
“I hope not. We’ve had enough trouble lately, but you’re right. We might want to keep an eye on these hitchhikers.” Millie checked her schedule, confirming she still had time before her next hosting event.
Cat and Annette returned upstairs while Millie trekked down the hall to the security office. The door was wide open, and she could see the rescued passengers seated inside. Oscar, the director of security, stood near the door while Patterson sat facing them.
“…yacht cannot be salvaged. Unfortunately, it’s probably already on its way to the bottom of the ocean.”
“Your incompetent rescue crew refused to make an attempt.” The man seated near the far wall sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger.
Patterson’s jaw tightened. “I’ll not allow you to speak poorly of our crew members who risked their lives to save yours. Yachts can be replaced. People can’t.”
“Your dad is gonna be so mad,” the other guy said.
“It wasn’t my fault. The mechanic told me the repairs were solid. He lied. We’re gonna sue him.”
“Regardless of what actions you take, Siren of the Seas will accommodate you until we return to Miami,” Patterson said.
A woman timidly raised her hand. “Today?”
“When we complete our voyage.”
“Which is?”
“Saturday.”
The mouthy man let loose a string of expletives, stopping short of calling Patterson and Siren of the Seas’ crew members names.
Patterson, having heard enough, cut him off. “We can return you to what’s left of the yacht, if it hasn’t sank, and let the next ship passing by pick you up.”
“You will not,” he haughtily replied. “It’s your legal duty to render assistance if you locate anyone at sea and in danger.”
“Lawyer legal-ese.” The words slipped from Millie’s lips before she could stop them.
All eyes turned to her.
She shrank back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
A woman, blonde and on the thin side, snorted loudly. “Where will we stay?”
“We have cabins available.”
She promptly perked up. “A suite?”
“Unoccupied crew cabins,” Oscar replied.
Her hand flew to her chest. “We’ll be staying in crew cabins? I…uh…am claustrophobic and prone to panic attacks.”
“However did you survive on a yacht,” Patterson sarcastically replied.
It appeared the mockery went right over her head. “The yacht was gorgeous with spacious suites and large windows.” Blondie described it in great detail, gushing over the amenities. “Tohan and the other crew members did an excellent job of caring for us.”
“If only the yacht hadn’t gone down,” Mouthy snarled. “What about the items you took from us?”
“They’ll be returned when you disembark.”
“I have epilepsy. I need my CBD.”
“It’s not allowed on board.” Patterson began scribbling. “You can visit the medical center and request a substitute to replace your…medicine of choice.”
Furious, he let loose another string of cuss words.
Patterson interrupted. “We’ll need you to give us your names, addresses, and cell phone numbers, along with an emergency contact to inform them of the rescue.”
The three people Millie suspected were crew members quickly wrote down their information.
“We…uh…have our phones.” The other woman, a brunette who had so far remained silent, held up her phone.
“You’ve informed your families of your rescue?” Oscar asked.
“Not yet,” Mouthy said. “We figured we should probably break it to my father first, seeing how the yacht is his.”
A brief discussion ensued with Patterson explaining the incident had already been reported to the Coast Guard and Miami port authorities.
“Great. I better get on it.” Mouthy stomped toward the door.
Patterson stopped him. “We’ll need your information before you leave.”
“You can’t make me.”
The head of security’s voice was calm and even. Too calm, based on Millie’s past experience. She braced herself for what was coming.
“Either you give me your information, or I'll lock you up until you change your mind.”
The blonde made a gagging sound. “You’re throwing us in jail because we needed to be rescued?”
“For safety and security, we require your personal information. We can’t have heavens knows who lurking about the ship,” Oscar said. “You could be transporting drugs, weapons, or be involved in human trafficking.”
“This is ridiculous,” Mouthy spat out.
Patterson shrugged. “It’s up to you. Give us your personal info or I’ll presume you would rather have three hots and a cot.”
Blondie picked up a pen and began writing. She finished and handed the notepad to the brunette, who promptly provided her information. The second male passenger was next. He finished and held it out.
Mouthy stared at the pad, refusing to take it.
Patterson nodded toward Millie. “If you don’t mind giving me a hand, cabins C119-C122 are empty. Please show the others to the cabins. They’ll also need toiletries and clothes.”
Millie gave their guests the once-over. “We have plenty of clean clothes in the lost and found bins. I’ll bring what I think might work.”
The passengers began making their way out of the office.
Mouthy, who was farthest from the door, was last.
Patterson blocked his path, pointedly tapping the top of the notepad. “I’ll reiterate your choices. Either give us your personal information or I’ll lock you up until you’re inclined to cooperate.”
“I’ll have you fired for this,” he threatened.
“You seem to know a thing or two about the law. Surely, you understand the legal requirement that we have the names of all passengers on board the ship.”
“Ridiculous.” Mouthy snatched the pad from Patterson’s hand and began scribbling. He finished and unceremoniously dropped it on the desk. “Happy?”
The head of security calmly picked it up and glanced at the sheet. “ID please.”
Mouthy lifted his chin. “I don’t have it.”
“I can see a wallet in your front pocket.”
Millie tensed, watching as the two men faced off. Finally, Mouthy caved. He reluctantly reached into his front pocket, removed a thin wallet and handed it to him.
Patterson flipped it over. “Just what I thought. You misspelled your name, Jeremy Manning.”
Oscar, curious to find out what the belligerent man had written, picked up the notepad. “Christopher Columbus.”
“C’mon, Jeremy,” the blonde pleaded. “Your dad’s going to find out sooner rather than later. Call him and explain what happened. The rest of us will back you up.”
“He’s gonna be so freaking ticked.”
The way he said it, Millie almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“James has the yacht heavily insured,” his friend said. “At least I hope he does.”
“I’ll show you to the cabins and then track down some toiletries.” Stepping into the main corridor, Millie led them to the stairs and down one deck to the crew’s quarters. “We have four empty cabins.” She counted heads. “For seven people.”
“Jeremy and me, and you and Devan in the other which leaves two cabins for Tohan and the other crew members,” Blondie said.
Millie stopped in front of C119. “It doesn’t matter which cabin you choose. They’re identical.”
“Who are you?” Jeremy rudely demanded. “You look familiar.”
Counting to three, Millie sucked in a breath. “My name is Millie Armati. I’m the ship’s cruise director. I might look familiar because you and I crossed paths at Bimini’s Yacht Club when you grabbed my dog and acted as if you were going to toss him in the water.”
Instead of looking embarrassed, the man had the nerve to look pleased with himself, as if he’d done something good. “I remember now. You and those old biddies who were snapping selfies, not paying attention let your mutt board Sea-nanigans.”
“Scout is not a mutt. He has better manners than you,” she gritted out. “You’re being treated much kinder than you deserve.”
“Whatever.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Save your breath toots.”
It took everything in Millie’s power not to reach out and slap the smug smile off his face. She spun around so that her back was to him. “What are your names?”
“I’m Sasha,” the brunette said. “This is Willow.”
“Pleasure.” Millie shook their hands and turned to the crew, who introduced themselves. “Like I said, there are four cabins. It’s up to you to sort out who bunks where. In the meantime, I’ll track down toiletries and clothing.”
Working her way down the hall, Millie unlocked the cabin doors and propped them open. “I’ll also be bringing you keycards so you can enter and exit the cabins. As far as onboard charges, you’ll need to visit Guest Services to set up a charge account.”
Devan stopped her. “You have a cool keycard.”
“Yours won’t look like this,” Millie said. “Officers and senior supervisors’ cards are, of course, different from crew members.”
“I’m not working as an employee,” Jeremy sneered.
“We don’t expect you to. However, you will need the keycard to access the cabins and for any purchases after you set up an account. In other words, cash cannot be used on board, except in the casino.”
Tohan, the yacht captain, thanked Millie. The others echoed similar sentiments, perhaps finally realizing the seriousness of their situation and appreciative of being rescued. Everyone except for Jeremy.
“I should return within the hour.” Millie spun on her heel and walked off. She made it halfway to Guest Services, where the lost and found was located when her cell phone rang. It was Nic.
“Hello, my love. I spoke with Patterson. He told me you were helping our rescued passengers settle in, and that one of them might be…challenging.”
“More like a PITP.”
“A PITP?”
“Pain in the posterior.”
“How so?”
She fired off a few examples of Jeremy’s misbehavior.
“I suppose this means we’ll need to keep an eye on them.”
“You’ll need at least two. Maybe more,” Millie said. “How did we get so lucky to get rid of one troublemaking crew member and end up with someone who is probably even worse?”