Mystral Murder (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) (13 page)

Their waiter suddenly appeared in response to Julie having pushed her plate aside.  He picked it up. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes. I’m finished, thank you.”

“Can I bring you some coffee or dessert?
Some Black Forest Cake or Cherries Jubilee, perhaps?”

They both declined dessert and ordered coffee. When the waiter left with their plates, Joe leaned across the table. “So you think Gill’s protecting Cathy?”

“I think it’s possible. Suppose he loves her. He might feel he had a hand in it, that he drove her to it. Maybe that’s what all this togetherness is about.”

“I don’t know, Merlin; I’m getting a headache from this,” he said, literally squeezing his forehead. “We only have one more day on this cruise, and I’m willing to spend it trying to figure out what happened to Adrienne
Paradis. I think there’s no question that someone pushed her over the side. But, I’m going to say it again:
There’s no way to prove it
.  So, can we please forget about this, just for tonight? Let’s go to the Top Hat, listen to some music and dance a little, okay?”

Julie reached across the table and took his hand again.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Music and dancing it is.”

“And fooling around.”

“Especially fooling around.”

***

It was Latin Night in the Top Hat club and the beat was infectious.  Although the dance floor was crowded, there were a few Salsa and Samba pros who really knew their stuff. Intimidated, Julie and Joe sat and watched for a while, admiring their amazing hip action and fluid moves.

“C’mon,” Joe said, holding out his hand. “We can do this!”

We can?
Julie thought, following him onto the dance floor.

As it turned out, they could. It might have been a sexed-up Cha
Cha with improvisations, but they moved their lower bodies in sync, and didn’t sit until they were breathless.

They were resting on a loveseat downing a couple of cokes when Julie spotted Paul. He was working at the far end of the bar near a double glass door to the deck, which, in better weather, would have been open to outside tables. She nudged Joe. “That’s Paul Gilman working the
service bar, Joe. He’s the tall one. The other guy was working here the night of the Captain’s dinner.  Do you remember him?”

“No, but he must be Gabe, the guy who said Adrienne and I were ‘talking ragtime’. 
What an astute observation, huh?”

“Don’t be sensitive, Joe. It was an important bit about Adrienne.”

“Yeah, I guess it was.” He set his glass on the small table in front of them and stood up. “I’m ready to call it a night, babe, how about you?”

“I’m ready; let’s go.”

They walked out of the club and were waiting for the elevator. Joe went over to the outside door just beyond the stairs and pulled it open a little, to get a feel for the weather. The wind was howling and it was raining hard; he shut the door quickly. “Can’t go that way!”

The elevator door opened and they stepped in.

The non-stop glass elevator deposited them on the Promenade at eleven-fifteen. With the exception of Barrister’s Pub and Starbucks, everything seemed to be closed. Music from the pub echoed through the Mall-like atrium, an upright piano with tipsy patrons singing-along. Although neither of them mentioned it, both Julie and Joe checked out the small crowd as they passed. Unsurprisingly, Dale Simpson was not part of the merry group.

By the time they got off the elevator on Deck 10, having walked the length of the ship from back to front, Julie was starting to feel woozy. Due to the high seas, the
Mystral was rolling some and the movement was making her seasick. Oddly, she hadn’t felt it when they were dancing.
With the music and all, I was having too much fun to notice it.
She was closing her eyes and clinging to the railing that lined the narrow corridor as they made their way to number 1272.

Joe was concerned as he opened the door. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, but I’m really dizzy. I need to lie down.”

Miguel, wisely, had closed the balcony drapes. As usual, the mini-suite was inviting, with low lights, soft music, and the bed turned down for the evening.

Julie took off her earrings and dropped them on the bar. She slipped off her strappy heels and was fumbling with the side zipper on her dress.

“Here, let me help you,” Joe said. Making no moves she might interpret as sexual, he unzipped her dress and unhooked her bra. While he hung up the dress, Julie, who always slept naked, stepped out of her panties and crawled into the bed like someone who had just crossed a desert and found an oasis.

Joe turned off the lights and the music, stripped and got into bed. He put his arm around her and lightly touched his lips to her shoulder. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered.

In a little while she murmured, “I love you, Joe.”

“I love you, too,” he said, as the Mystral rocked them to sleep.

*
* * * *

CHAPTER 35

A
drienne drifted above the huge ship, unable to feel the earthbound whirlwind that caused the Mystral to dip and rock as it moved upon the water. It would not be long, she knew, before the ship would reach its turn-around point, the land-place where it would deposit the ones connected to her. They would go in different directions to finish out their lives. When the last life was complete, Adrienne’s account would be balanced and she could move on.

That would be many Earth years.

The powerful longing to be free of the Mystral right now was difficult to control. She wanted to speak to her surrogate, to direct her. A voice tried to tempt her; it said those things were possible, that she could even possess Julie O’Hara if she chose to. But Adrienne knew in her soul that those who crossed that line were doomed to roam the sea forever.

She’d been given a gift. There was a chance that she might gain her freedom very soon.  It all rested with her surrogate, with her ability to reconcile Adrienne’s relationships and resolve the error of her untimely passing. 

Adrienne would restrain herself; she would trust her surrogate.

But there was so little time…

* * * * *

F R I D A Y

~

CHAPTER 36

J
oe awoke at six-forty-five; the Mystral was still rolling and he could still hear the muted sound of the wind howling outside.
Shit. It’s going to be another lousy day.
To prove it to himself, he opened the drapes a little and looked out. Big swells topped with white stretched all the way to the horizon, a barely discernible line between shades of gray.

He wondered if Starbucks had donuts.
Julie loves donuts.
He looked over at her. She was lying on her left side, the blanket clutched at her neck, her right foot hanging over the side of the bed. He looked at her toes. They were beautiful and sported a pale, iridescent pink polish.  He smiled. “Resort Pearl” was the name of the color. He remembered the night he’d painted her nails while she sat in a chair in a black lacy bikini. The polish was supposed to “speed dry”, but it wasn’t fast enough. He’d wrecked her panties and her pedicure.

He looked down at the morning flagpole. 
Forget it
,
you beast
.  He turned and went into the bathroom. A couple minutes later, his teeth brushed and hair combed, he pulled on his jeans and a charcoal tee shirt and quietly let himself out.

Their ever-present cabin steward was two doors down. “Good morning, Mr. Garrett,” he said softly.

“Good morning, Miguel. Is Starbucks open, do you know?”

“Yes, I believe it is, but they have coffee and pastries in the Central Lobby outside the Internet Café. The mid-ship elevator will let you off right there.”

“Oh, that’s great. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sir. Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

Joe headed off to his left. It was a long walk down a corridor of nothing but cabin doors to get to the mid-ship elevators.  They had never used them because their stateroom was so close to the forward elevators and because the mid-ship ones only went up as far as Deck 10. He supposed they’d have to go this way for lunch. They could take the stairs up to the indoor side of the Horizons cafeteria on the Lido Deck.

Just ahead of him, Dale Simpson stepped out of his cabin. He looked horrible, almost like he’d slept in his clothes.

“Morning, Dale.”

“Oh, hi,” he said. “Good morning.”

They turned the corner to the elevators. Joe pushed the button and the elevator door slid open right away. They stepped in and Joe pushed
Deck 4
.

“You headed down for coffee?”

“Uh, huh. You?”

“Yeah,” Joe said. “Thought I’d bring some back to Julie.
Tough night.”

“You can say that again. My head’s killing me. I used to be able to drink; not anymore. I went to bed with a headache and woke up with the same damn headache.”

You’re lucky,
Joe thought.
You’re in trouble when you feel so shitty all the time you don’t know the difference anymore.

The door slid open and they got off.  Directly opposite, a long table was set up with coffee, tea, orange juice and…
God bless all things American
…donuts.  Joe began fixing two large coffees, setting them into two corners of a cardboard tray; then he selected four donuts and put them in the center. He was putting lids on the coffee when he glanced over at Dale. In spite of the coolness of the lobby, the man had beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Dale, you don’t look too good. Maybe you should go see Dr. Sinclair.”

Dale laughed. “I don’t think so. That’s all I need! She killed someone, you know.”

Joe almost spilled the coffee. “What?
Where?”

He scratched his head. “In Maine, I think. No shit, she gave this broad the wrong medicine and she died. Why do you think she’s working for peanuts on a ship?”

“How could they hire someone with that background?”

“Cruise ships like US doctors. Passengers like US doctors.”

“Geez. You think the Captain knows?”

“It sure doesn’t look like it,” he said with a smirk. “Nah, he wouldn’t have anything to do with vetting her. The medical staff is independent.”

Joe had just tripped over a gold nugget.

“Hey, Dale, I’ve got to get back before Julie wakes up. Take care of yourself.  Drink a lot of water; it’ll help with that headache. The coffee will, too.”

Dale raised his coffee cup. “Thanks, Joe. I will. See you later.”

Damn,
Joe thought, as he hurried back to their stateroom.

***

Julie was towel drying her hair when she heard Joe opening the cabin door. She smiled from ear to ear when she saw the tray. “Hi! I was hoping that’s where you went!”

“I brought you everything you like and more,” Joe said. “How are you feeling?”

“You are so sweet,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I’m much better, thanks. Just to be on the safe side, though, I took some Dramamine.”  She looked at the donuts. “Is that chocolate glazed? Can I have it?”

“Of course. I got that one for you. Here, take your coffee, one sugar and half n’ half.” He handed it to her and they sat down around the coffee table. “Wait ‘til you hear what I just found out from Dale Simpson,” Joe said, munching on a jelly donut.

“What?”

“He said that Dr. Sinclair has a shady background,
seriously
shady. He said she caused some woman’s death by giving her the wrong medicine.”

Julie was wide-eyed. “How is she still working here?”

“Not
here
. It happened back in the States, in Maine. Apparently, cruise ship passengers like American doctors, so the company that staffs the Medical Center hired her. I don’t think Captain Collier or HCL know anything about it,” he said, reaching for another donut. “Anyway, the important thing is, if Dale knows about it, you can bet Adrienne did. She could have been blackmailing the doctor.”

Julie sat back, sipping her coffee and thinking.

“Not for money, that’s for sure. Adrienne was a control-freak, though.  She may have used it to manipulate Michelle Sinclair in some way. Was she threatening to tell Captain Collier? Doctor Sinclair has access to scopolamine, too! She could have drugged Adrienne somehow during dinner…the wine…the food…I don’t know, somehow.”

“I’ve got a problem imagining a woman tossing her overboard, Merlin.”

“I don’t! Michelle Sinclair is tall and fit. Adrienne was a head shorter than her, not even five-feet tall, and she was small-boned, like a child. If Adrienne was stoned, how hard would it be to boost her over?” She reached for the phone.