Chapter 10
10
A white envelope with the cruise ship logo hung from the clip on Dana’s door. Probably the excursion ticket for the castle she’d had to cancel. She took it off and folded it into her pocket and continued on to breakfast. The ship had docked in the predawn hours and passengers were already making their way off the ship into the little town of Killybegs for their excursions. Despite the exodus, the buffet room was full. Dana grabbed a light breakfast, including the day’s special, crepes with berries.
She found a seat by the window where she could look at the village built on the side of the green hills surrounding the harbor. A gentle rain fell, shrouding Killybegs in an ethereal mist. Possibilities of fairies and leprechauns surrounded the town. Dana longed to explore, to see if she could find a sparkle of magic for herself.
The ship’s daily newsletter said the town’s population was less than the number of crew onboard, so the town wasn’t that large. If she walked slowly on the steep hill, she’d be safe enough. And unlike the castle tour she’d given up, people would not need to wait for her to make the steep ascent. Or she could keep her original plan and read in the ship’s library for the day. Her book sounded less appealing.
Looking out the window, she paid less attention to the food than she should have and a berry fell off her fork and bounced off her shirt, leaving a dot of dark red syrup. She dabbed it off the best she could and reached for another napkin. The envelope in her pocket crinkled. She’d forgotten about it. After finishing her crepe—which was yummy enough she didn’t entirely regret the ruined shirt—Dana opened the envelope. It wasn’t an excursion ticket. Instead, it was two folded papers.
Dana Knight,
We are very sorry for the inconvenience, however, because of a maintenance issue we need to move you to another cabin
before sailing time today. We hope that moving you to a balcony suite will make up for any disruption in your trip. Your new room will be on deck 11…
A scribble of blue ink obliterated the printed name of the Chief Purser who signed the letter.
The other paper was directions on how to contact her room steward to move her belongings, etc. Dana read the message a second time. A balcony? Maybe she didn’t need to leave the ship to find a bit of Irish magic after all.
She sipped the last of her juice. Pale rays of sun penetrated the space between clouds. Dana folded the letter up and looked out the window. The town called to her. She couldn’t let this chance slip by to make a memory. A slow walk around town while the room steward moved her room, seemed like just the thing. As soon as she changed her shirt, of course.
Martina’s plan was simple: move Dana to a cabin near the blind spot on deck eleven. Because of an electrical problem, the ship had sailed with several empty cabins, including one just two doors down from the blind spot. Yesterday, after a replacement part arrived at the Galway port, maintenance completed the cabin repairs. If Dana moved to the newly repaired cabin, with a bit of luck, either Dana or her sister would catch the fiancé and cause enough noise that security could intervene. Then they could question Chandler Fairfax and his red-haired friend about their choice of location for the clandestine meetings.
McKay hated the plan.
They overruled his vote. He was all for someone telling the bride she might want to rethink her wedding plans and even giving Dana a room upgrade. However, putting Dana in the awkward position of having to tell her sister about the infidelity, not so much. Or worse, if Dana discovered the couple and a fight ensued, she could be hurt. Although being a Hastings employee, it was more likely she would inflict well deserved pain on Mr. Fairfax. Which could lead to Dana’s removal from the ship.
The real problem was that the only way this plan would accomplish the true goal of finding out which crew member had leaked the blind spot location required the bride to blow up at the groom in such a way that crew members became involved. They needed to orchestrate a confrontation, if possible.
Deception.
With Dana in the middle of it.
Why not add a camera to remove the dead spot? His suggestion was met with the same explanation security gave when the extra cameras were installed: The ship’s electrical system didn’t have the capacity at some points. Dead spots were unavoidable. Most of the spots were smaller than a meter. Blah, blah, blah. This dead spot was the largest one in the passenger area due to a jog in the hallway.
Frustration mounting, McKay paced the corridor, searching for an alternative solution. His phone buzzed with a message from Alvaro summoning him to the security chief’s office.
His boss didn’t glance up from his computer as McKay entered. “Shut the door and have a seat.”
McKay complied, settling in to wait while Alvaro collected his thoughts.
Alvaro broke the silence. “I know you disapprove of Martina’s scheme. I wanted to explain why I green-lit it. The leak about that blind spot must have come from this department, either directly or through a lower-ranking crew member. I like your idea of an off-network camera. I’ve put one on hold at a shop in Belfast. The trip should take you about five and a half hours.”
“Where am I going to get a car? Passengers have rented everything within miles.” McKay didn’t mention that the last time he drove on the left side of the road, it hadn’t gone well.
“I asked the port authority to arrange something. You better go change. You’ll be far too conspicuous in your uniform. Get off with the crew going ashore. It will cut into your scheduled work time a bit, but I’ll cover for you.”
“You don’t think it will seem odd to the rest of the crew that I won’t be at my post when passengers return?”
“Fortuitous timing, since this is your last voyage for a while, I’ll say I approved extra leave, so no one should be suspicious.” Alvaro’s eyes gleamed with sly humor. “Stop by a tourist shop and pick up an Irish souvenir while you’re out.”
“I’ve already added one extra suitcase to my flight home.”
“Get something small, then. Something you can put the camera in, since you will still need to go through security. Crew is looking for food and weapons. It shouldn’t be hard.”
“The head of security is telling me to bypass security protocols.”
“Yes.” Alvaro’s grin widened. “First time for everything.”
“That should be interesting.”
Interesting was not the right word for the rest of his day.
The Port Authority’s niece and her best friend—both university students—were off for the summer. According to them, they had nothing better to do than to drive a dathúil American to Belfast.
Their tiny VW Polo belonged in a circus. At six-foot-three, McKay had to fold himself practically in half to fit, his knees jammed against the dash and his elbow kept banging against the door. If he had to guess, he’d say the car was older than he was. Clearly, Volkswagen hadn’t had men of his stature in mind when they designed this model. McKay learned more about Irish music in the two-and-a-half-hour drive into Belfast than could be squeezed into a semester-long class. Occasionally, the women burst into fits of laughter when speaking in their native tongue. McKay couldn’t understand them, but he knew it involved him.
The electronics store he needed was located in a large shopping center. The women gave him a half hour to find what he needed and meet them back at the entrance. The store employee tried to up-sell him on a camera hidden in a Guinness bottle. It might be useful for someone who was guarding the contents of their refrigerator, not so much for ship security.
A few shops down, he found a souvenir store full of kitschy items made on the other side of the world. A leprechaun flashlight presented as the best item to sneak a tiny camera onboard in. Unless security examined it closely during the x-ray scan, they’d likely overlook it.
On the return trip, McKay kept his eyes glued to his watch, studiously ignoring the speedometer. Plausible deniability seemed the wisest course when it came to the velocity at which the car whipped along the narrow roads.
The Polo shuddered as the niece turned into the pier yard just as the security team was wrapping up the boarding process. McKay hoped his absence and near late arrive didn’t cause too much of a stir.
“Cutting it a bit close there, Mac,” Martina remarked as he approached the checkpoint.
“Would you believe I lost track of time?”
“This port of call is the smallest one on this cruise, so no. I thought you’d at least be out with someone…” Ian, one of the greener team members, raised a suggestive eyebrow. The newest member of the security team had broken more than one crew member’s heart. During the last cruise, McKay had tried to get the newbie to focus less on romancing and more on work. Ian seemed intent on flirting with every female crew member onboard.
McKay set his things down on the conveyor belt feeding the scanner. He kept up the conversation to distract his coworkers. “Why, did you guys have a bet on where I’d gone?”
“One of the guys from the kitchen said he saw you take off in a car with two women. I told him it must be a rideshare. You aren’t the type to take off with two local girls for the day.” Martina didn’t even look at the screen as his belongings passed through. He’d need to make a note for Alvaro to remind security staff not to automatically trust crew members even if they knew them well.
“Rideshare.” Not exactly a lie. “I’d better go throw myself on Alvaro’s mercy before he cuts me loose.” McKay grabbed his bags off the belt, eager to escape.
Ian laughed. “You are his favorite, the golden boy. And with only a few days left, who wants to do the paperwork?”
McKay forced a chuckle as he beat a hasty retreat.
As he wove his way through the ship toward his cabin, McKay’s thoughts drifted back to Dana. Much as it pained him, using her as bait might be their best shot at drawing out their mole. He just hoped she could forgive him for putting her in such an uncomfortable position.
Balcony.
One single word could entirely change a cruise. Magic had happened in the mists. The window, the view; it was truly amazing. Some sprite had worked overtime.
Dana could get used to this life all too easily. No wandering around the ship searching for a comfortable place to sit while reading. No overhearing conversations she wanted no part of. No worries that Sheila would sneak up on her.
And sunlight! Or the enchanting gray fog of a misty morning.
And towel animals.
She’d returned after dinner to find a towel dog in the middle of her bed surrounded by her missing sheep. A cabin steward must have found them when they cleaned her old room. Odd, she’d checked everywhere, even under the bed before leaving. She took photos of the creation to send to Brit, Simone, and Dad.
If she’d had this room from the start, she might not have left it for most of the cruise. She almost wished she hadn’t agreed to meet her sister and the other bridesmaids at the evening show. Reading her latest historical romance and listening to the sea was much more appealing.
Dana closed her eBook app and stretched. She’d never thought of herself as much of an introvert, but the last few days on the ship she’d discovered how much she enjoyed solitary time. Now that she had a room with a view, she wished for another at-sea-day, or two. But the pink paper called. Tonight, the magic show.
Dana brushed her teeth and reapplied her makeup. She couldn’t put this off any longer. Time to go.
It wasn’t hard to find the bridal party once she neared the theater. Just follow the giggling.
“Dana?” Cheyanne jumped up and down and waved an arm. “I stopped by your room earlier, but I didn’t catch you.”
“Which one?”
“What do you mean, which one? The one I always stop at.”
“Oh,” her sister must not have gotten her text message. “There
was an electrical issue, so they moved me to a new room.”
“That is inconvenient.”
“Not bad actually, the room came with a balcony. Cruising got a hundred times better with that.”
“I know what you mean. The suite we are in has spoiled me for anything less.”
The line into the theater surged forward as the doors opened. Dana sat between her sister and Amy-Kate. The magic show was much better than Dana expected, and all the bridesmaids were in good humor. Erin and Renee spent the time giggling over someone they’d met. Lindie sat on the far side of the group, clapping the loudest.
The final curtain fell. As they were leaving, her mother approached. Dana broke off from the group so as not to ruin the mood.
“Where are your crutches?”
“I don’t need them anymore.”
“I thought you were going to stay on them and make sure you didn’t ruin Cheyanne’s wedding.”
“I stayed on them longer than I would at home. I am being careful.”
“You could have fallen and ruined your sister’s wedding. I saw you wandering about town today with that steep hill. It is practically a cliff.”
Dana had passed a woman on a knee scooter going to the cathedral, it wasn’t that steep. “A short walk. No harm.”
“No harm? You are trying to ruin my wedding.” Sheila’s voice rose.
Her wedding? That would be a shock to Chandler. That and a herd of other snappy comebacks raced through Dana’s mind. “I’m being very careful not to do that.”
Cheyanne joined them. She touched their mother on the shoulder. “Mom, Dana is trying. She even gave up going to a castle today. Lay off, ok?”
Sheila snorted and turned away.
“Come on Dana, Chandler is meeting us in the bar.” Cheyanne’s statement wasn’t as much of an invitation as it was a direction.
Without the crutches, Dana didn’t have a good excuse to skip joining in. The bar would serve her an overpriced bottle of water or a carbonated drink as easily as anywhere else. Dana followed as the women navigated to the other end of the ship and up three levels.
The bar was surprisingly cozy. Plush seats and couches were arranged in comfortable groupings around the room. Chandler and the groomsmen claimed a section in the corner.
“About time, Luv.” Chandler pulled Cheyanne into his lap and locked his lips with hers.
Cheyanne squealed and tried to get up. “Not here.”
“I hardly get to see you. And I haven’t had a good kiss in hours.”
“That is the point of a bachelorette cruise.” Amy-Kate sat in the vacant seat next to Chandler. “Not seeing the man you are going to spend the rest of your life with for a week.”
A groomsman stood with his drink, allowing Dana to take a seat. “Wonkiest bachelorette I’ve ever been to, and with the bride’s parents no less. It’s like being on a high school trip with chaperones running all over.”
“Have you ever been to a bachelorette before?” asked Dana.
“No. But I’ve imagined them. There was more drinking…” He gave her a crooked smile.
Dana put up her hand. “I don’t think I want to know.”
“You are the one that doesn’t drink, right?” asked another groomsman.
“Correct.”
“What is up with that? Are you in AA or something?” This one spoke in a decidedly American accent, Ron, if she remembered right.
Dana hated this part. Why did people need to defend their choice to not drink? It should be normalized by now. If someone needed AA, it was Ron. She had yet to see him without a drink in his hand. Maybe she should point out that the “Friends of Bill W.” meetups in the cruise newsletters were for Alcoholics Anonymous.
“I like to keep my hands free in case I need to throw the first punch.”
Another grooms-minion snapped his fingers. “That’s right, you’re a bodyguard. Right? Apparently, they are an equal opportunity thing.”
Dana ignored the comment. Her superpower was that she wasn’t what she appeared to be. If she looked like a supermodel weight lifter, she wouldn’t blend in.”
“But you aren’t at work.” Ron leaned closer.
“Yet, I still don’t want a drink.” Even water. Dana hoped he’d turn his attention elsewhere. She wasn’t in the mood to fend off unwanted passes.
Ron sat on the arm of her chair, his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “You’d be hot if you weren’t so uptight.”
Uptight? Who used words like that? Dana didn’t bother hiding her eye roll. “If you are trying to flirt, you are failing.”
His hand dropped on her shoulder and drifted downward.
Dana slid her thumb under his hand, lifting it off with a twist.
Ron jumped up, shaking his hand. “You —”
“Is there a problem here?”
Dana hadn’t noticed the security officer behind them, but she recognized the voice instantly.
“That—” Under McKay’s glare, Ron apparently thought better of whatever name he wished to call her. “She broke my hand.”
“Miss?” McKay kept a straight face, but his eyes twinkled under raised brows.
“I removed his hand from my person as I do not consent to his advances. I assure you nothing is broken.” She hadn’t needed to apply that much pressure and she would have felt something break.
McKay turned to Ron. “From what I saw, she was defending herself. I’m sure the CCTV feed will agree with me. If you would like, I can call the ship’s doctor to his office to see you or ask the bartender to give you some ice.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Ron folded his arms, hiding the injured hand.
McKay walked off.
Everyone in their group stared at her. As well as people from neighboring sections. Poor Chey. Her sister didn’t deserve this kind of attention. Dana stood. “Have fun, guys. I think it is best that I leave.”
“So soon?” asked Cheyanne. “Ron was out of line and he knows it, right?”
“Good riddance,” muttered one of the other grooms-minions.
Dana sent a silent prayer that Ron wasn’t the one she was paired with for the wedding processional.
“I’m a bit tired.” It wasn’t a lie. The couch in her new suite was calling to her and her book. The heroine was about to make her grand gesture by climbing out the window to save the viscount’s reputation. “Have a good night.”
As Dana exited the bar, she felt a presence behind her. She turned. McKay. “Officer Worth, you don’t need to follow me. I want to leave.”
“That was an interesting move you used on that guy.” He fell into step with her.
“Instinct. I should have pushed him away or something else.”
“How do you like your new suite?”
“How do you — Never mind, of course, you know. It’s very nice. You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
“Did you get your sheep back? I found them in my things.”
He evaded. Why would he do that unless he did have something to do with the upgrade? She hadn’t noticed an electrical problem. If ships were like buildings, a grid could include several unaffected rooms. She’d looked at enough floor plans on details to know that. Even so, his evasion was something to note.
“I wondered if the room steward found them. You need to see this.” Dana opened her phone to the photo she’d taken of the dog watching over the sheep.
McKay laughed. “Wow. Looks like I owe someone a tip for that one. I’m glad you got them back.”
“Why didn’t you drop them by?” She knew the answer before she finished the question. What about McKay made her thinking muddled?
“Appearances. If someone saw me going to your suite?—”
“Of course, I understand.”
They’d reached the elevator. Dana pushed the button.
“Good evening,” McKay turned to leave, then paused. “The guy deserved what you did. Don’t feel bad about it.”
The elevator door opened, and a passenger exited. Three others remained in the elevator.
Not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea, Dana nodded slightly at McKay as she entered the elevator. As the door closed, she caught one last glance of him. Why did she always want what she couldn’t have? Right now, she would rather have a nice long conversation with him than to be curled up with her book no matter how grand of a gesture Miss Philipa made for her viscount. It didn’t beat a conversation with a real-life man.