Mystral Murder (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) (17 page)

Julie leaned forward to keep their conversation private. “I’ve been thinking about Cathy. She’s simply too small and frail to have hoisted Adrienne over a railing that high. Stoned or not, Adrienne would have been struggling, wouldn’t she?”

“Sure she would; it had to be a guy.
Someone strong enough to do it quickly. I don’t like Gill for it, either. He had no reason to drug her. So, what do you think? Was it Dale or this guy, Gabe?”

“Well, Dale had opportunity and more motive than anyone. And do you realize I haven’t seen him since the night of the Captain’s dinner? It wouldn’t be the first time a guilty party avoided me.”

Julie stopped talking as she saw Rene approaching with their drinks and soup. When he left again, she resumed.

“From what I remember of that night, it could have been Rossi, Joe. I’ve been thinking about it. We were all seated together in the Top Hat and everyone ordered a drink at the same time
excep
t for you and Adrienne,” Julie said. “You two were dancing when the cocktail waitress came to our table. You returned and caught the waitress as she was leaving, Joe.  I heard you order a drink for yourself…but Adrienne went to the bar and came back with a margarita.

“She had plenty of time to flirt with Gabe Rossi. She may have flirted with him on other trips, for all we know. The way I see it, it was obvious that Dale and Adrienne weren’t getting along; it probably was no surprise to Gabe when Dale left. And even if Adrienne was dancing up a storm with you,
I’m
the one you came in with. The odds were you would leave with
me
.

“So Gabe slips something in Adrienne’s margarita, just in case she still wants to party after everyone else goes. What has he got to lose? He’s closing up, alone. If he can get her to stay, he can have her right then and there. If not, so what? She goes home loopy.

“But, say it didn’t turn out as planned because I left…and you stayed.”

Joe nodded. “And when we finally did leave, Adrienne planted a serious kiss on me. We were in the hallway, right in front of the club and the doors were open. Maybe that was the last straw. Gabe could have followed her out on the deck after we split up.”

A look of dead seriousness came across Julie’s face. “That plays, Joe. There’s a thin line between a man wanting to rape a woman and wanting to kill her.”

They halted their conversation when Rene arrived with their meal.

The moment the waiter left, Joe leaned over and took her hand in his. “Julie. I’d like to nail Adrienne’s killer as much as you.  But there’s no body and no witnesses. You know we’re not going to solve this one, don’t you?”

“Yes. I know. I can’t stand it, but I know. We’re going to dock at Port Canaveral tomorrow morning at six. According to the weather report, the storm will be in the Carolinas by the time we disembark at eight-thirty. And by five o’clock, the
Mystral will be cleaned up, restocked with supplies, and three thousand new passengers will sail away, enjoying the sunset over Florida. Who cares if a killer waltzes off this damn ship, free as a bird?”

“I care. There’s just nothing we can do about it.”

They ate in silence, neither of them happy with the inevitable end of their private investigation.

“Look who just came in,” said Joe.

Julie looked down over the railing. It was Michelle Sinclair and Lottie Pelletier.

“If not for your digging, those two might never have met,” Joe said smiling.

“I am happy about that.”

Suddenly, she thought of Gill and Cathy and their re-cemented relationship.

She felt an odd, warm happiness about that, too.

What the heck…?

* * * * *

CHAPTER 44

A
drienne saw Michelle Sinclair with her mother and was suffused with delight for the second time since she’d been in this strange, disembodied form.

It was an unexpected blessing that Lottie Pelletier was on the ship. Even if Adrienne had had the time to apologize to Michelle, it mightn’t have been enough to earn her forgiveness. But, with just a little urging, her surrogate had brought the two women together, and now the doctor’s happiness was sweeping away all ill feeling.

She had been delighted as she observed what was happening with Gill and Cathy Byrne, too. They were united as never before, standing together against the world. Adrienne knew that no apology from her could ever have accomplished that.

Still, her killer had yet to be identified.

Oh, he would pay the price when he came to the place where she was, the place where everyone’s account was balanced. It was the comfort of her Earth family and friends that most concerned Adrienne. They needed resolution; they needed his name.

And Adrienne SO wanted to be free of the
Mystral.

Julie must not give up! The answer was right there in her stateroom…

How to bring it to her attention?

*
* * * *

CHAPTER 45

I
t was seven-fifteen when Julie and Joe took the elevator down one level to Deck 4 and set off toward the front of the ship. They had decided to get their packing done, as all passengers had been notified in the Mystral Bulletin to leave their bags in the corridor before midnight.

They actually heard the bells and whistles and shouts before they reached the Casino. To their amazement, every slot machine was occupied, with eager onlookers quickly grabbing any available stool. While red velvet ropes kept spectators away from the busy poker tables, the
roulette wheels and blackjack tables were surrounded by cheering would-be players who kept the cocktail servers busy while they waited for their turn to lose their money.

“Oh jeez, we’ll never get through that crowd,” Julie said, “it’s packed in there.”

Joe took her arm. “C’mon, let’s climb the stairs. We’ll walk through the Promenade.”

The activity was only slightly less frenetic on the ship’s main thoroughfare. Everything in the vast atrium was open and doing a bang-up business. The place looked like a Mall at Christmas, with shoppers’ bags a-bulge. They passed by Finnegan’s Café, where a trio of Irish singers were entertaining, while up ahead the usual bunch surrounded the upright piano at the cozier Barrister’s Pub.

At the end of the Promenade, they went down the stairs, crossed the Lobby and walked past the Odyssey Lounge, where a pianist-comedian regaled the crowd.

“Well, I guess everyone took their Dramamine tonight,” Julie said, astonished, thinking about the near-hurricane, Beryl, which was buffeting the
Mystral, literally rocking the boat.

“It’s a way to handle the fear,” Joe said, “like sex. Which reminds me, how’re you feeling?”

Julie laughed. “Eager. But let’s pack first. I don’t want them knocking on the door.”

When they got off the elevator at Deck 10, there were very few bags in the corridor, which wasn’t surprising, since everyone seemed to be having a hurricane party. They let themselves into 1272. The drapes were closed, the howling wind was muted and, given their own party plan,
their bed looked even more inviting than usual. Nevertheless, they pulled out the suitcases and set about packing.

Joe finished the chore faster than a shopper on a blue-light special, stuffing everything pell-mell into his duffel bag. He left out a pair of briefs and shorts, a tee shirt and shaving gear for the morning.  By eight o’clock, he was under the covers snoring softly, hugely irritating Julie, who continued to clear hanging clothes out of the closet, empty drawers and fold everything meticulously in her bags.

A pair of black Capri pants hung on a hook behind the bathroom door. Julie remembered that she’d slept in them the night she was outside the Solaria spa and dropped them in her dirty-laundry bag. She tossed her bathing suit and her avocado shorts in the laundry bag, too, depositing it in the hall outside the bathroom.

She turned to the closet door and was about to zip up the large garment bag hanging there that held
their evening clothes, when something made her stop.
The Capri pants; I’d better check the pockets before I wash them.
I think I left the sleeping pills in there.

She rummaged through the bag and pulled out the pants. Sure enough, the pills were in her left pocket.
Wait. What’s this?
There was a hard item at the bottom of the right-hand pocket. Julie fished it out. It was a distinctive pink and black Cartier pen.

Julie plopped on the couch, turning it under the lamplight:
Adrienne Paradis.

Adrienne
Paradis! How did Adrienne’s pen come to be in her pocket? Julie was stumped; it was impossible! She’d hardly spoken to Adrienne that night. Certainly, she had never borrowed her pen. Suddenly, she remembered Alice Kent at the Captain’s Table:

“Oh, Ms. O’Hara, I’m such a fan! I saw you on The View. Phil and I loved your seminar and we bought
Clues
, but we forgot to get you to sign it. I hope you don’t mind; I brought it with me.”

“Did you bring a pen?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, waving the pen.

It happened all the time. Fans would present her with a copy of
Clues
and a pen to sign it. Julie recalled her pool-side conversation with Cathy Byrne:

“I understand Adrienne came back to the club?”

“Yes, she brought your book. She wanted you to sign it.”

The Top Hat club was on Deck 12.

She was sleeping in front of the spa on Deck 12.

Julie sat back in shock.

I autographed Adrienne’s book! She saw me there and brought it over to me. She gave me the pen to sign it, and walked off without it. Nothing else makes sense.

Julie forgot her packing and hurried over to Joe. She shook his shoulder.

“Joe, wake up. Wake up, honey.”
“What? What is it?”

“I had Adrienne
Paradis’ engraved pen in my pants pocket.”

Joe shook his head, trying to wake up, to understand what she was saying. 

Julie gave him the pen. “This was in the pocket of the Capri pants I changed into the night Adrienne went missing! I was sleeping in front of the Solaria spa on Deck 12. Adrienne had to have given me this
that night
, right before she was thrown overboard.”

Joe got up, pulled on his briefs and stood silent, examining the pen.

“Do you remember her having a copy of my book?”

“Yes,” he said, blinking. “She almost left it; she turned back and got it.”

“I bet she saw me out there and brought the book to me. I must have signed it in my sleep. I don’t remember it, but it’s the only way I could have gotten her pen.

“Joe, I can’t think of anything I do more automatically!  I’ve signed hundreds of copies and I always date it and scribble the same thing:
“For Jane Doe, Best wishes, Julie O’Hara.”

All at once, a scene played in her mind: 
Adrienne taken by surprise, airborne with her arms flailing…falling from a great height…headfirst into a dark, flickering sea.

The image was so frightening and real that Julie dropped to the couch and wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering.

It came to her at that moment.

Adrienne wouldn’t hold on to a book. She would have dropped it immediately as soon as someone grabbed her.

“Adrienne went over, Joe. Not the book. She dropped it.”

“So where is it?”

Julie looked up at him.

“Her killer has it.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 46

H
ow do you pack a dead woman’s clothes? Dale gave up trying to fold Adrienne’s things and just concentrated on filling her suitcases. He made sure that everything of hers was stuffed in her luggage, and then he put it all outside in the corridor. It would help not to be reminded of Adrienne’s death.

If I could just get one good night’s sleep without thinking about her…

The last few days had been hell. No one was treating him with compassion, as they should. Instead, there was an unspoken accusation behind every condolence. He couldn’t wait to get off the ship, and yet he dreaded having to face Adrienne’s sister, Marie, and their parents. They knew the state of his and Adrienne’s marriage; they would be the
worst
to deal with.

Dale had come to the conclusion that he simply had to get on with his life, in spite of the cloud of suspicion that would probably dog him forever.

He heard someone rapping on his door.

Shit. Who the hell is that?

* * * * *

CHAPTER 47

T
hree bags were set out in the corridor beside Dale Simpson’s door. Julie whispered, “he must be here,” while Joe knocked.  A moment later, they heard him on the other side.