Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
When I explained the plan to everyone, I got a few "Are you out of your mind?" comments...mostly from Gilly, who was still pissed at me for scaring her with my heart problems.
Ezra was a rockstar, though. He supported the plan, as long as we stuck together.
I was good with that. Going off on my own was a really good way to get my butt kicked—something I’d experienced a time or two in the course of my work with the police.
I didn’t want any gunshot wounds, broken bones, or black eyes.
Of course, for the plan to really work, we’d need the FBI to give us an assist. I left that task up to Pippa.
She could be very convincing. I offered Gilly an out.
Neither Scott nor she was obligated to participate in what she called a "harebrained plan." That’s when she called me a harebrain and told me it would be a cold day in hell before she let me out of her sight. Scott wasn’t going to let Gilly out of his sight, and so, our scouting team became a party of four.
Before heading out, we changed into less formal, more stealthy, stretchy clothes. Tight dresses and heels weren’t exactly ideal for sneaking around the ship.
“How do we sneak into the morgue?” Gilly asked as we took the elevator down to the second floor.
If I was right, the real murderer would come down here soon while the FBI was occupied with getting the details of Augusta’s questions and try to get rid of Sebastian’s body.
If it were to go over the rail and disappear into the ocean.
..well....no body, no crime. Or, at least, it would be hard to prove.
Augusta was a smart enough lawyer to know that confessions can be overturned.
People already suspected the young singer had jumped over the rail.
On top of that, no body, no autopsy to prove that he hadn’t died of natural causes.
“Scott, since you’re a doctor, can you fake an emergency to distract whoever’s on duty tonight?” I requested.
“Easy enough,” he said, but I could tell it made him uncomfortable.
“I’ll do it,” Gilly said, sensing it as well.
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m part of this Scooby gang now, and I’m going to do my part.”
“You dear, sweet man,” I gushed. “I could totally kiss you.”
My statement drew objections from both Ezra and Gilly.
“I meant metaphorically.” I rolled my eyes. “Dude?”
“Dude,” she replied.
I blew out a breath. “Duude.”
“Duuude.” Gilly put her hands on her hips.
“Duuuude.” I widened my eyes for emphasis.
She nodded. “Dude.”
I smiled. “Dude.” We were cool again.
“You guys are so strange sometimes,” Ezra said.
To which Gilly and I both said, “Duuuuuude,” then laughed.
I knew the levity was a result of nervous energy. We both resorted to humor in times of stress. Well, humor or wanting to punch someone’s ticket. I was glad that we’d decided not to choose violence. Humor was a much better option.
“We’ll hang back by the elevators until Scott creates the distraction. And while they’re busy with him, we’ll slip down the restricted corridor to the morgue.”
“Bulletproof,” Gilly said with only a hint of sarcasm. I was calling that progress. “How do we know which drawer to look in?”
“There can’t be that many.” I dipped my chin. “We’ll search them all.”
“Wonderful,” she mumbled.
Ezra held a hand up to shush us as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. “Keep out of sight.”
“But make sure the cameras see us,” I added.
“Harebrained,” Gilly reiterated.
“You’re on,” Ezra told his golfing pal.
Scott nodded, clutched his side and staggered to the clinic door. “Help,” rasped out, before letting out a low, miserable groan. “I think…it’s my appendix.” His face was twisted in pain, and honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d be worried.
Nurse Tony, the same tall nurse who had used the defibrillator on Sebastian the night before, was once again on the night shift.
He immediately stepped forward, his expression shifting from boredom to concern.
“Let’s get you inside,” he said, wrapping an arm around Scott’s back to help him through the door.
Scott moaned again, perfectly timing the fake agony. He knew exactly when the pain was supposed to spike and just how bad it should be getting. As the clinic door shut behind them, Ezra motioned for us to move.
We slipped past the clinic, keeping close to the wall, our steps light and quick. I held my breath as we passed the doorway, every muscle in my body tense. As we were almost clear of the clinic, I heard Nurse Tony say, “We may need a surgeon.”
Crap.
Gilly flashed me a “my husband better not come back to me with any missing parts” look.
I grimaced, then shrugged. I knew Scott was willing to take one for the team, but surgery was going several steps too far. My stomach twisted with guilt. We’d joked about distractions, but I didn’t actually want him to end up under the knife.
I had to trust, though, that Scott wouldn’t let it get that far...no matter how much he wanted to impress us.
We moved quickly and quietly down the dimly lit corridor, the hum of the ship’s ventilation system masking the sound of our footsteps.
The metal door to the morgue was tucked away at the end of the hall, blending in with the surrounding walls except for a small access panel and a heavy-duty handle.
It looked industrial, utilitarian, none of the polished, flashy elegance the rest of the ship had.
Just cold, gray steel, a little scuffed near the edges where it had seen years of use.
A 360-degree security camera sat mounted on the ceiling just outside the door.
I glanced up at it, noting the dark, lifeless lens.
“Disabled,” I muttered, not surprised. I had a feeling the one at the Resplendent Retreat had been purposefully disabled as well.
Still, just for kicks, I flipped it the bird.
The door was thankfully wedged open slightly. The person using it wouldn’t want to be caught swiping in an out multiple times a day. We slipped inside.
The morgue was about as inviting as you’d expect.
Cold steel everything, a few rolling carts, and a wall lined with freezer drawers.
The air was crisp enough to make my breath fog, and the scent of disinfectant barely covered the underlying metallic tang.
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow that somehow made everything look even more unsettling.
Gilly shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Well,” she said, “this isn’t creepy at all.”
I smirked. “Just wait until the corpses start singing The Monster Mash.”
She snorted. “That’s how we’ll know they’re cool.”
“Let’s just get this over with before Scott ends up actually needing a surgeon,” Ezra said, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
“There are only twelve drawers,” I said, scanning them. “Shouldn’t take long.”
“How do we know which one is the right one?” Gilly asked.
Ezra glanced at the wall, then at me. “Open them all up until we find Sebastian.”
Gilly raised an eyebrow. “What if there are other dead people in there?”
I shook my head. “If it’s not Sebastian then move on to the next drawer.”
I opened three drawers on the right, starting at the top, when I went to open the fourth, I heard Ezra say,” Got him.”
I was already sliding the drawer out, and saw it wasn’t empty like the others. Oh, crap. On top of that, it wasn’t quite as chilled as the others.
“I think you all need to come see this,” I told them, gripping the handle. I slid the drawer all the way out, bracing myself for what we might find.
It was the last thing I expected to see.
Instead, of a dead body, a pair of sleepy eyes stared up at me.
Alive.
“It’s Callie,” I said breathlessly.
Gilly whispered, “No freaking way.”
The ex-reality star-slash-widow twice over was bundled up under a thermal heating blanket, the kind with an extra battery pack attached.
A small oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth, the attached tank nestled near the outer edge of the drawer.
Two unopened bottles of water sat beside her.
Whoever had put her here hadn’t meant for her to die.
Not immediately, anyway. They had wanted her alive, just barely.
Her body was still curled up in the fetal position, as if trying to conserve every bit of warmth. Her fingers clutched the edges of the blanket, her knuckles white. Even with the heating pack, she was shivering, her breaths coming shallow and quick through the mask.
“Callie?”
Her eyes widened at the sound of her name, blinking sluggishly against the light.
“Is it time to go?” she mumbled sleepily, her voice muffled by the mask.
“Yes,” I told her. “You’re safe now. It’s time to go home.”
Panic flickered across her face, her muscles tensing as if she were about to fight. Then, recognition hit.
“Nora?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’re safe now.”
Gilly exhaled sharply. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe she’s actually alive.”
“Not so harebrained now, am I?” Although finding Callie alive hadn’t been on my list of things I thought I’d discover tonight. Instead, it was a happy accident.
Ezra reached in, checking the oxygen tank, his movements quick and efficient. “She’s stable, but we need to get her out of here now.”
I placed a hand on the young woman’s arm, squeezing gently. “Can you move?”
She nodded weakly, her fingers twitching against the blanket. “Help me,” she groaned.
“I will,” I said, sliding an arm under her and preparing to lift. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“What about Sebastian?” Gilly asked. “We have to move his body, right?”
“Moving Callie to a safe location takes priority,” Ezra said.
With our backs to the door, we hadn’t noticed it was closing until it slammed shut.
I whipped around and saw exactly who I thought I’d see. “Hello, Rebecca.”
Security Chief Hansen stood inside the room with us, a taser in one hand and a flare gun in the other.