Chapter 9
9
She’d overdone it in Galway. Dana tightened the wrap on her ankle. She used the room phone to call room service and request ice. Then she dialed guest services to cancel her ticket on tomorrow’s excursion to the castle.
As she hung up the phone, she realized she was tearing up. Not from pain. Frustration.
The castle excursion was the only one she had booked for herself. It wasn’t part of Cheyanne’s group plans.
Stupid romance books. Viscounts, dukes, milk maids, princesses in castles, and knights in shining armor. Fairy tales in Irish castles didn’t happen, so she shouldn’t be crying. Right? The tears came harder. Wiping her eyes, Dana opened her calendar app on her phone. Maybe this was a bad case of PMS. Crying over missing a castle was ridiculous.
A knock came on her door. Ice. Dana hobbled to answer.
Juan stood there with a bucket. He looked at her face. “Do you need anything else? The ship has a doctor if?—”
“Thanks, Juan. Ice is all I need. I just overdid it.” She was about to close the door when her sister came bouncing up the hallway.
“Dana! There you are. I’ve been texting.”
Juan waved as he left.
“I’m sorry. My phone must not be receiving them.” Or she hadn’t wanted to check. Dana opened the door further and stepped back to let her sister in.
“Ice? Does it hurt again? Is that why you’re crying?”
Dana sat on the bed so she could prepare her ice pack. “What were you texting me about?”
Cheyanne wagged her finger. “You don’t get to sidestep my questions that easily?”
“I’m going to try. How was your day?” Dana set the ice pack on her ankle.
“Better than yours apparently. Did you injure it again?” Cheyanne sat on the bed.
“No. I just overestimated what I could do.”
“And that has you crying? You let me come to the gym with you when you spar those Hastings guys and take some pretty hard hits. And I haven’t seen you cry over your ankle once. Is it worse than you let on?”
“No, I’ll be fine for your wedding. It doesn’t hurt much at all, only like a four.”
“But you are crying.”
Dana blinked back more tears. “Just PMS.”
“Fine, don’t tell me the real reason. Anyway, I was texting you to come to dinner in our suite tonight. I ordered extra huge portions, then we are getting in the hot tub.”
“I was thinking of ordering room service so I could just stay here.”
“In this cave?”
Dana looked at the one white wall. “It is rather cave-like.”
“And sitting in here with a cheese sandwich, or whatever you order, and your PMS is only going to make it worse. Grab your crutches and come up to the suite. It is a girls only night. No mom. And we all understand PMS.”
“Will there be chocolate?”
“Of course. What is a girls’ night without chocolate?”
“Can we wait for fifteen minutes? I don’t want to haul the ice pack all over the ship.”
“No problem. Do you want your swimsuit? I can get it while you sit.”
“It is in the second drawer.” Dana pointed to the closet area.
“What did you do that stressed your ankle?”
“Shopped.”
“I want to see.”
“Hand me that bag. I stuffed everything inside.”
Cheyanne grabbed the bag off the desk where Dana had dropped it earlier. “Oh, I love this sweater. I didn’t even think of buying one. I really should. Did you know Ireland is famous for its sheep?”
A laugh bubbled out of Dana’s mouth. “And here I thought they just liked wool sweaters and the white dots on the hills were cotton balls.”
“Don’t laugh at me.” Cheyanne held the sweater up and looked in the mirror. “The lighting in here is awful. Still, the sweater would look great on me.”
“Not. It is for me to wear in Chicago winters, not for you to wear in England.”
“Can’t blame me for trying. I’ll have to shop at our next port.” The paper bag crunched as Cheyanne rummaged through it. “Chocolate?”
“Don’t you dare open them. They are gifts for my friends. Someone,” McKay , “told me Irish Cadbury is made with Irish milk. Some say it is better than UK Cadbury. I am going to buy the same bars in London and have a taste test party when I get home.”
“Invite me.”
“I think you are supposed to be on your honeymoon and then settling into your new home in the UK.”
“Options, options. Marriage. Chocolate party.” Cheyanne balanced imaginary weights in her hands. “I guess I’ll have to pass on the party.”
“I’m sure you’ll get plenty of chocolate living here.”
“I’m not sure of that. On our excursion, we stopped at a restaurant. And we had Sticky Toffee pudding. So good. Then Chandler reminded me if I ate too much, I wouldn’t fit in my dress. I wanted to slap him. I worked out for an hour with him in the gym this morning and hiked on the excursion.”
“That wasn’t nice.”
Cheyanne set the bag on the bed and plopped down. “It may only be pre-wedding jitters, but Chandler has been odd this entire cruise. It is like Mom is rubbing off on him. He didn’t like the way I got my nails done on spa day, my brand of sunscreen, and last night when we were dancing, he kept correcting me. It wasn’t like we were doing ballroom or anything. Just normal dancing. Tell me I am imagining things.”
Not the conversation Dana wanted with her sister. Chandler had always been condescending to her and joked about her nanny status. However, he made her sister happy. “Has anything else changed?”
“You are going to think I’m stupid.” Chey sniffed one of the chocolate bars. “His kisses are, well, not as passionate. It feels like he is kissing me out of duty. I thought I’d see more of him on the cruise, too.”
Dana leaned against the wall so she could see her sister better. “I thought you both planned activities away from each other.”
“Like tonight’s impromptu ladies’ night because he decided he wanted more time with his groomsmen to play that roleplaying game?”
Dana glanced at the pink paper tacked above the desk. “That’s right, tonight was supposed to be another restaurant and a show.”
“I don’t mind much, as this gives me an excuse to ditch Mom. Don’t ask her on your bachelorette excursion.”
“Wasn’t planning to. I may invite her the day before my wedding as a guest. Then I won’t be disappointed when she can’t come.”
“I should have done that.” Chey toyed with the bag.
“She would have never forgiven you. I have nothing to lose. I am already in the never-forgive box for calling Child Protection Services on myself and then going to court to have custody changed. You don’t want to be there with me.” As much counseling as Dana attended, her mother’s rejection still hurt.
“Wait what? I know about the court thing, but CPS?”
“In my defense I was nine, so you were three-ish? Although their home inspection didn’t show signs of any physical abuse or outright neglect. The report was used in court to show the unequal treatment of her children which my advocate argued was emotional abuse. Mom is never going to forgive me.” The ice pack grew soft as the ice melted and Dana adjusted where it was positioned.
Cheyanne pulled three pairs of shamrock socks out of the bag. “These are cute.”
“More gifts for friends. Wait until you see the little sheep. They are the best.”
Opening the bag as wide as possible, Cheyanne peered in. “How small are they?”
“The size of your hand.”
“There aren’t any sheep in here.” Her sister dumped the bag on the bed next to her.
No sheep.
“There has to be. I bought them for the Ogilvie kids. Even if their parents can buy them all of Ireland, I wanted to bring them a gift, so they know I care.”
“Sorry sis. Your three little wards?—”
“Principals.”
“Little kids shouldn’t have that title. But anyway, there are no sheep here.”
Dana leaned back against the wall. “I must have left them at the cafe. We were talking, and I had to hurry to not miss the bus.”
“Who is we?”
“Just a guy.”
“Maybe he has them. Is he a passenger?”
Dana hated misleading her sister, but it would be worse if her sister knew about McKay. “No, he isn’t.”
“You’re telling me that you had ice cream with some stranger you met in Galway?”
“Something like that.”
“He must have had one beauty of an accent for you to do that.”
Dana smiled, desperate to change the subject. “It looks like my ice is done. Shall we go?”
“At least tell me you got a photo of the mystery sheep thief.”
“Nope.”
“A phone number.”
“Nope.”
“I can’t believe this. My sister, the bodyguard, had ice cream with a random guy in Ireland and has no evidence. What about a receipt?”
“He paid.”
Chey groaned and opened the door so they could leave. “You owe me more details. Was he a ginger? Was he handsome?”
“No, and yes.” Dana checked that the door shut and was locked. “Can you be less mysterious? I’ve already had it with Erin sneaking off all the time to see someone for a shipboard romance. Amy-Kate is just as bad having to go out for air. I told her to get seasick patches.”
Dana pushed the elevator button. “Well you don’t have to worry about me. No shipboard romance.” Throughout the evening Dana alternated between wondering if McKay had her sheep and wishing that she could start a shipboard romance.
Another day down. The ten-day cruise was half over. McKay signed out of his computer and turned it over to the night officer.
“Anything to be aware of?” asked Martina.
McKay scrolled through the electronic log. “A passenger who discovered the blind spot between cameras 9-045 and 047. He used it two nights ago and again tonight. If I hadn’t been watching, I wouldn’t have noticed. Our walk-by has moved him and the woman he is with down the hall, but anyone who finds a blind spot and keeps using it is a red flag.”
“Do we know who he is?”
“Chandler Fairfax, of the UK.”
“Isn’t he the groom in that big wedding party?”
“Yup.”
“And I take it he wasn’t with the bride.” Martina settled into her seat at the monitor.
“Nope.”
“Yikes. I feel bad for the woman he is marrying.”
“Same. I wish I could come up with a reason for her to go down that hallway at the right time. But the bride is in the Diamond Suite and she is unlikely to go on deck eleven for any reason.”
Martina sat in the chair and logged in. “Hmmm. If it is quiet tonight, I’ll look at the footage and try to see if he has been there more than twice. Maybe we can come up with ideas that don’t break any privacy rules. I want to save the bride some trouble.”
“Careful Martina, our hands are tied.” Even having the connection with Dana, he couldn’t think of a way to let Cheyanne know about her unfaithful man.
“I know. And I won’t do anything without Alvaro’s approval.”
“I want to know how he found out about that spot. I can’t think of a way he could have other than bribing a crew member. That is a security risk.”
“Is he with the same woman each time?”
“Yes, a redhead. I’ve narrowed her down to seven possibilities, including two bridesmaids.”
“Ew. Worse and worse.” Martina tapped a pen on the desk. “But she could have done the bribing.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Women can be devious too.”
“Let me know if you think of something. We need to find out how they learned about that spot.” That was a security risk he could act on.
“Will do. Good night.”
The door to Alvaro’s office stood open. His boss waved him in and pointed to his tablet. “What is this?”
McKay entered and sat down. “I thought my report was self-explanatory.”
“You reported yourself for talking to a passenger.”
“I treated her to ice cream.”
“You know as well as I do it does not fall into the relations category.”
“But I wanted to hold her hand. I want to see her again. So, I am turning myself in to prevent me from doing anything stupid.”
“I’ve known you for years. I’ve watched women, passengers, and crew throw themselves at you and even stalk you. You have never even come close to crossing lines.”
“I’ve never wanted to.”
“So, you want to now?”
“I have no desire to dishonor my position. But I do want to get to know Dana Knight better.”
“Is she aware of the cruise line policy?”
“Yes. She even brought it up today when we were at the cafe.”
Alvaro sighed. “I’m deleting this report. There is no reason for it to go on your record, especially if you want to be rehired.”
“But—”
“No buts. If anyone else on this ship turned in a report like this, would we keep it?”
“No. But I am not anyone else. I am an officer. I am held to a higher standard.”
“You didn’t even hold hands.”
“No, but I wanted to.”
Alvaro ran his hand over his salt and pepper hair. “So you are preemptively turning this in so you won’t need to turn in a real one?”
“Something like that.”
“Noted. Deleted. Talk to Miss Knight as much as you want to in the public areas. Don’t use security resources to locate her. Is that what you needed to hear?”
“I just needed someone else to be aware so I would be accountable.”
“Done. Good night.” With his dismissal, Alvaro turned his attention back to the tablet.
McKay checked the time. He had an hour before his nightly phone call to his sister. As much as he wanted to go searching the decks for Dana, it wasn’t a wise move at the moment. He needed to figure out how to deal with Chandler Fairfax and the redhead or he might say something to Dana he shouldn’t.
He walked down the corridor and stood in the blind spot, looking for inspiration. Without proof of a crime, there was nothing they could do. Judging from the passionate kiss, the elevator camera captured the redhead, whom he recognized from the wedding party, seemed very willing to be with Mr. Fairfax. The suspicion that Mr. Fairfax or the redhead were not enough to act upon. But if they were right, and someone purchased the information with evil intent—assault on board was not taken lightly. If he could prevent even one, he would. A couple returning to their cabin prompted him to move on.
Once in his cabin, McKay shed his uniform and put it on a hanger with a laundry tag. He double checked the pockets.
The bags from his shopping trip sat on the bed waiting for him to find a place in his already crowded luggage for them. The jewelry store purchase went into an inner pocket of his backpack. Better to keep that with him on the plane. The sweater for Jen found a spot in his suitcase, filling the last corner. He had yet to pack the last of his civilian clothing.
There was no helping it. He would need to check a third bag to go home. How had he gathered so much stuff in the last six months? He refolded a Cancun t-shirt. It was two years old. Since he hadn’t renegotiated his next contract, there wasn’t an option to leave his personal items in company storage. When he came back, he’d need to remember to cull his ever-increasing T-shirt collection or start collecting postcards.
He’d leave Gracie’s sheep in its bag until he found a space for it.
His phone rang.
Jen’s face appeared on the screen. She was sitting in her car. “Sorry for calling early. I got called into work and I am taking Gracie to Mom’s.”
“Is Mom up to that?”
“I hope so.” Jen handed the phone to the back seat.
Gracie’s face appeared on the screen. “I’m gonna be very good. I get to take your music.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I will try not to talk too much, but it is so hard not to tell Grandma all the things.”
“Save some things to tell her tomorrow.” McKay hoped his advice would work.
Lights of passing cars illuminated Gracie’s face. “I’ll be good. I know Grandma is sick and is tired like I used to be, before my new heart.”
McKay tamped down his emotions. As much as they all tried to treat Gracie like a normal kid, his niece understood sickness, hospitals, and death better than most people three times her age. “Did your mom tell you about counting sheep?”
“I read a book about counting sheep. It’s silly.”
“I didn’t understand it either until I saw all the sheep on a farm in Ireland.”
“Is that the one where you saw the dogs?” Gracie referred to a conversation over a month ago, the first time he’d sailed around the Emerald Isle.
“Yes. From the ship you can see the hills are covered with white dots.” McKay reached into the bag to show her the lamb he bought. His hand closed around two lambs. “One second, I need to put my phone down.”
Gracie chattered about the videos he’d sent of the sheep dogs while McKay looked in the shopping bag. Four stuffed sheep, one large and three small, lay in a tangle. One of the small sheep looked up at him with large plastic eyes as if asking him why he wasn’t with his owner. Quickly, he extracted the largest of the stuffed animals and picked up his phone.
Gracie was just finishing her monologue. “…anyway, mom still says I can’t have a dog. Can I have a sheep? Then I can really count them.”
Jen laughed, now sharing the screen with her daughter and obviously in his mother’s driveway. “No. Sheep are more work than dogs.”
“That’s a problem…” McKay rubbed his chin, getting both his sister’s and niece’s attention.
The wrinkle above Jen’s brow deepened, Gracie’s eyes widened.
He held up the stuffed animal. “I got this sheep for Gracie.”
Gracie let out a little yell of delight. “Uncle Mac, you got me a sheep?”
“Yes, and when he can’t sleep, e counts little girls.” He wiggled the stuffed animal.
“That’s silly.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you can try it at Grandma’s. You count sheep and he can count girls and see who falls asleep faster.”
“He is a stuffed animal and he can’t sleep.”
“Or he is always sleeping.”
“If I get out of bed and bug Grandma, I won’t get him, will I?”
Oops. He hadn’t seen that one coming.
Jen must have noticed his surprise and answered. “Uncle Mac will still give it to you, but it may have to stay in time out for a while.”
Gracie pinched her lips together and nodded.
McKay scrambled for a change in subject. “You can also count how many hours until I get home.”
“How many is that?”
“I am not sure. Less than 240.” Easy math. He’d be home in less than ten days, even if there were multiple plane delays.
“That is a lot of hours.” Gracie wasn’t wrong. In hours, it sounded longer.
Jen took control of the phone. “We need to go in now. Have a good night, Mac.”
“Tell mom, I love her. I won’t add to the chaos by calling.” He waved. “Night Gracie. Sleep well.”
The phone call ended. He dumped out the bag holding Dana’s sheep. How had that mix up happened and how could he get them back to her? She said she was going on a shore excursion tomorrow, didn’t she? When she came back on ship he would tell her that he had them. He was already assigned to work that shift. No stalking of her location necessary. He’d just catch her when she came on board.