Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 03 - Secrets at Sea (9 page)

Chapter 9

I did end up buying that magazine, and Tom bought me a cheesecake for dessert from the drugstore’s refrigerator section. When we got back to the hotel, we found a lovely surprise. Someone had pushed the two twin beds together and made them up as a king.

There was a little note attached to the pillow. It said: Sorry for the mix-up with the rooms. Hope your vacation is smooth sailing from here on out. It was signed, Brenda and Ramon.

“How nice,” I said when I picked up the card. “This will be our first vacation souvenir.”

“Are you going to be picking up things during the entire trip?”

“Yes, I think I’ll make a scrapbook about our vacation after we get home.”

“Okay,” Tom said, but his tone didn’t sound very sincere.

“You said I needed a hobby. It will keep me busy for awhile.”

“That’s true.” He sighed. “Maybe I can get a copy of the search warrant and police reports on Betsy’s death, your purse snatching and our room being trashed for your scrapbook.”

I grimaced.

He held up the cheesecake.

Both our smiles returned.

“Let’s eat it in bed,” I suggested and took his free hand.

He chuckled. “Best idea you’ve had all day.”

I grabbed the magazine and we went into the bedroom. As I read the latest “love quiz” to Tom, we laughed, fed each other cheesecake, and even tried a few of their suggestions. It was a wonderful end to a very trying day.

In the morning we went out for breakfast and drove down to the dock. I knew we weren’t supposed to board the boat until one, but since I registered for the cruise so late, I didn’t have my tickets. It made me a little nervous.

We left the car in the parking structure by the dock. A porter looked up our name on a list and put the correct tags on our luggage. We would be in Room 5169, upper forward on the Upper Deck.

“Where’s that on the ship?” Tom asked, as we walked toward the Queen Mary to check-in.

“I have no idea,” I told him.

“There better be maps posted all over the ship, because given your sense of direction, you’ll be lost all the time.”

I could have argued, but he was right. If I happened onto a wrong street, even in my own city, I was lost.

It was only ten o’clock so no one was waiting to check-in.

Tom and I stepped up to the counter.

“Good morning,” the cheery clerk said. She was dressed in a red, white, and blue uniform.

“I know it’s early, but we’d like to check-in, if that’s possible,” I explained.

“Of course,” she extended her hand. “Can I see your tickets?”

“I booked the cruise online only two days ago, so they said my tickets would be here.”

“Let me check.” The clerk went over, grabbed a box with five red packets, and brought it to her station.

“I guess I’m not the only one who decided to go on this vacation only a few days ago.”

She smiled. “No. In fact, one gentleman booked his cabin late yesterday afternoon.” She extended her hand again, “I need your passports and a credit card to attach to your Navigator card, please.”

“What’s that?” Tom asked, his tone brisk.

“It’s the way you pay for everything while you’re on the ship,” the woman said.

“This is our first cruise,” I said, by way of explanation of our ignorance and Tom’s tone. His ex-wife, Pamela, had maxed out all his credit cards; when they were divorced, he got stuck paying half. He never let the balance on the card go over a few hundred dollars now, and always paid it off with his next paycheck.

“Oh, that’s okay.” The clerk’s smile broadened. “Everything you buy on the ship is charged to your credit card, including shore excursions, spa treatments, and drinks.”

I handed her my passport and credit card.

Tom shook his head. “No, use mine.”

I put my hand on his arm. “No, I get great rewards on this card. Every Christmas I get several gift cards I use for the teachers at school.”

Tom frowned.

“I’ll send you a bill for your stuff,” I promised.

He nodded, then handed the woman his passport.

It took more than just a few minutes, but eventually we were checked in.

The clerk handed us our Navigator Cards. “Your table for dinner is listed on your card. I see you’ve requested a late sitting.”

“How late?” Tom asked as she handed him his card.

“I think they serve around eight o’clock.”

“Eight o’clock!” He scowled.

The clerk stepped back as I put my hand on his arm again. “My parents always liked the late seating, so that’s what I requested. If you want to change it, we can.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s all right.” He looked back at the clerk. “Is there any place on the ship where I can get food around the real dinner time?”

Her smile broadened again. “There are many places to get food. In fact, you can get food almost twenty-four hours a day on the ship.”

Tom nodded, appeased.

The clerk gave us a sheet titled Frequently Asked Questions. “This should help with any other questions you may have. Enjoy your cruise!”

We thanked her and tucked our passports and Navigator cards safely together, just like she’d told us to.

When we got out of the building, Tom said, “That Navigator card must get some people in a lot of trouble.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You want a drink, you give them the card. Then you have another. It adds up quickly. Credit cards don’t feel like real money to people.”

“I’ll keep my Diet Coke purchases to a minimum,” I told him.

He laughed. “Sodas don’t get them into trouble. It’s the second, third, and fourth drinks that do.”

“And there’s a casino on board.”

Tom raised both eyebrows this time. “There is?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “I bet people get their bill and have a heart attack.”

I laughed, grabbed his arm, and we walked toward the front of a large round white building. The clerk at the check-in counter told us we had to go through there before we got on the ship.

Standing at the door were Detective Ramirez and Hansen. They walked up to us. Now what?

I felt Tom’s body stiffen.

“Good morning,” I said cheerfully, trying to break the tension.

“Good morning,” Hansen said.

Tom and Ramirez just nodded at each other.

Hansen reached inside a paper bag he carried and brought out my purse.

I took it and smiled. “Thanks so much. It isn’t very valuable, but I like this purse.”

“Where’d you find it?” Tom asked.

“We found the boat with the purse still in it,” Hansen said.

“Check the purse,” Ramirez said. “Is anything missing?”

I opened it. My makeup, notebook, and calendar were all there, but my cell phone was still missing. “It’s all here except my cell phone.”

“She’s already called and had the service stopped,” Tom added.

“Was it an expensive cell phone?” Ramirez asked.

“No. I buy the cheapest one I can.” I shrugged. “I lose them very easily.”

Ramirez shook his head.

“What?” Tom asked.

“Nobody steals a boat to get a purse, just to steal a cell phone.”

“No, they don’t,” Tom agreed. “Did you get any prints from the boat?”

“Nope, it was wiped clean.”

“Someone went to a lot of trouble to get her purse.” Tom glanced from the two detectives to me and then back to Ramirez. “Is there someplace we can go and talk?”

“Yes,” Ramirez said, then he and Hansen went over and talked to a cruise person standing in front of the door.

I pulled on Tom’s arm and whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Liza, no one goes to all that trouble to get an obvious knock-off purse unless they’re after something specific.”

“But what?”

“I don’t know.”

Ramirez and Hansen came back. “We can use the room reserved for their Gold Members. It’s early, so it’s empty.”

Tom nodded and we followed the two detectives into a nice lounge, set up with bottled waters, sodas and a few snacks. How do you get to be a Gold Member? I wondered.

Ramirez and Hansen sat down at a table, and we joined them.

Tom wrung his hands. This wasn’t a good sign. He only did this when he had to admit he was wrong about something.

“Okay. There was something missing from our room.”

“What?” Ramirez said, his tone surprisingly even.

“Liza had a set of photographs from her parents’ cruises.”

“Like the one under the chair where we found the body?” Hansen asked.

“Yes.”

“How many?” Ramirez asked.

Tom looked at me, and I said, “Fifteen.”

“Were they all of the same people?” Ramirez asked.

“No, there were ten in their cruising group. The photos were of various groupings of those people and a few with larger crowds.”

“Were Betsy Ruiz and Adam Sherman in some of the pictures?” Hansen asked.

“Yes,” I said. “They were in a few.”

“They were all taken?” he asked.

“Yes,” Tom said.

Well, that was the truth. Whoever had trashed our room had taken my pictures. But not the duplicates. I’d forgotten about them until just now. They were still safely tucked into my large suitcase. Tom didn’t know about them so he wasn’t actually lying.

“Do you have any idea what this is all about?” Ramirez asked, glancing first at me and then leveling his gaze at Tom.

Tom shook his head. “No, I don’t, not really.”

“What about a hunch?” Ramirez asked.

Tom looked at me and back at Ramirez. “It may have something to do with Liza’s parents’ deaths.”

Ramirez raised his one eyebrow. I would have laughed if Tom and the two detectives hadn’t looked so serious.

Tom told them about my parents’ plane crash, the fact they’d always come to the Nordic Inn with their group before leaving on the cruise, about the dead woman in the motel room, about Adam’s possible cheating with that woman, and then about his death three days later on the cruise.

“How is all this related to the pictures?” Ramirez leaned forward and asked.

“I have no idea,” Tom told him. “If I did, I’d tell you.”

“I wish you two weren’t leaving in a few hours,” Ramirez said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Something’s going on and having you away on a ship in the middle of the ocean isn’t probably a very good idea.”

“I’m not giving up my vacation,” I told him and then stared at Tom.

“We’re not, Liza.”

“I’ll look up the police report on that dead woman. Give me your email address and I’ll send you the report. Maybe something will stand out for you or Miss Wilcox.”

Tom gave a business card to Ramirez, and asked, “Have you still got my gun?”

“Yes,” Hansen said. “It’s not back from ballistics.”

“They wouldn’t let you take it on the ship, anyway,” Ramirez pointed out.

“I’d feel better if I had it with me,” Tom said.

“The ship’s security is very good. I doubt anyone would try something there. But be careful in Mexico. You can get whatever you want there and some people will do anything for a few bucks.”

Ramirez and Hansen stood. Ramirez and Tom shook hands. It was nice they were buddies now.

We started to leave with them, but Ramirez said, “Stay here. I’ll tell the cruise people you’re special guests of the city. They’ll take you on board the ship with the first group.”

“Thanks.” Tom nodded.

Ramirez and Hansen left the room.

“You told him everything?” I asked Tom.

“I know your experience with cops hasn’t been good. Both times you’ve gone to investigate something, the cops have been involved, but that’s not the norm.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“For our sakes, I hope I am, too.”

Chapter 10

A few minutes later, a young man in a white uniform came in. “Miss Wilcox and Mr. Owens, welcome to the Gold Lounge.”

Tom nodded, and I said, “Thanks.”

“The ship should be cleared in about thirty minutes and we’ll get you on board. Is there anything I can get you?”

“No, thank you,” I told him.

“Okay.” He bowed. “I’ll be back to escort you onto the ship.”

The man left.

I turned and smiled at Tom. “I like all this special treatment.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Why not?”

“You must have to pay to be a Gold member. We only got it this time because of Ramirez and Hansen. And if we ever go on another cruise, I hope we don’t have the same problems we’ve had since arriving in Long Beach.”

I laughed. “Then I’ll just enjoy it while I can.” I got two bottled waters and handed one to Tom. “Enjoy your free water while you can.”

“Yeah, if I want it on the ship, I’ll probably have to charge ten bucks to your credit card.”

I sat down and took out the sheet the clerk had given us. “Let’s check out the answers to these ‘Frequently Asked Questions’.”

“Good idea,” Tom scooted his chair closer.

It was very informative. They even had a soda card I could buy to cover my drinks for the cruise.

When we got to the question about renting a tuxedo, Tom asked, “Why would I want to rent a tux?”

“For the two formal nights,” I told him. I felt his hand on my arm and looked up.

“What formal nights?”

“There are two nights we get dressed up.” I smiled. “The Captain’s Welcome Aboard dinner and also on the Friday before the cruise is over.”

Tom frowned. “I think I should have gotten a little more information about this cruise before I packed. I guess I’ll have to rent one.”

“You’ll look so cute,” I teased him.

“And what did you bring for the formal nights?”

“I have a long black skirt and a couple of fancy tops.”

“Slinky and revealing?” His eyes glistened.

“Do I look like the slinky and revealing type?”

“Hey, if I have to get into a monkey suit, you have to wear something slinky and revealing.”

“Oh sorry, I don’t have anything like that.”

“I’ll buy you something,” he said. “I’m sure they have stores on the ship. They have everything else.”

“On my credit card?”

“Well, maybe they’ll let me use my own.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think so; it sounds like everything on the ship goes on our Navigator card.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” he offered, and went back to reading the FAQs sheet.

I looked up when a very nice-looking man walked into the room. I’d put his age in his early forties. He was tall, tanned, with light brown hair, and smartly dressed in a pair of black slacks and white-collared silk shirt. He wore a white Panama hat, which he removed as he entered. But his best feature was his eyes. They were dark and seemed to take in everything in the room, including me, all at once.

He smiled, nodded at us, then locked eyes with me for just a moment. He set his hat on the table, went over and pushed a button on the wall. I have a thing about hats. I’m always trying to impress upon the students in my classroom that any hat, including a baseball cap, should be taken off when they enter a room. It’s an obsession. The boys in my class learn it so well that when their fathers come with the, they tell them to remove their hats. Any man who does this naturally, immediately elevates my opinion of him.

A man dressed in a white uniform immediately came into the room. “Yes, Mr. Graystone?”

“I’d like a drink, Robert.”

“Your usual?”

“Of course.”

Robert left and he over to our table, extended his hand, and said, “I’m Dorian Graystone.”

Tom stood up and shook it. “I’m Tom Owens and this is Miss Wilcox.” He pointed at me.

I offered my hand. “Liza, please call me Liza.”

Mr. Graystone brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. “It’s my pleasure, Liza. My name is Dorian. And you can call me anytime you need anything.”

Tom stepped closer to me.

Thankfully Robert returned and handed Dorian a champagne glass.

He took it in his free hand, the other still attached to mine, and said, “Would you like some champagne, Liza?”

“No, thank you.” I slid my hand out of his.

He turned to Tom, “What about you, Tom?”

“No, thanks, it’s a little early in the day for me,” Tom said, frowning.

The corners of Dorian’s lips turned up in a devilish grin. “It’s never too early to enjoy something wonderful.” He took a sip of his champagne and looked at Robert, “Magnificent, Robert. Thank you.”

“I’ll be taking you on board in just a few minutes, Mr. Graystone.”

“Thank you, Robert.”

Dorian nodded and Robert left the room.

Dorian Graystone’s voice had an amazing soothing quality, yet it also commanded your attention. A wonderful combination.

“Are you someone famous?” I asked.

He chuckled. “No, my dear. I’ve just taken so many cruises that I’m treated well.”

“How many?” Tom asked.

“Let see,” Dorian said as he took another sip of his champagne. “This will be my twenty-fifth cruise.”

“Wow,” I said, and held up the FAQ sheet. “If I have any questions, I’m just going to ask you.”

He chuckled again, “I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have, but if you’re in this room it means you’re a Gold Member.”

“What is a Gold Member?” I asked.

“Those who have gone on ten or more cruises.”

“Not us, then, this is our first cruise.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “Then are you someone famous?” he asked with a smile.

I laughed. “No, we’ve had some problems since coming to Long Beach, so two nice detectives let us stay in here until we can get on the ship.”

“Oh my, the police?” Dorian sat down. “What happened?”

Tom had been very quiet during my conversation with Dorian, but not anymore, “Liza.”

I turned to him. “Yes?”

“I don’t think Dorian is interested in what happened to us. Besides, it’s a police matter.”

“Oh, now you’ve got my curiosity up.” Dorian leaned toward me. “Tell me, Liza.”

I looked from Tom to Dorian and then back. I was saved from saying any more when a couple came into the room. I recognized them immediately from my parents’ pictures — Carmelita Ringdon. She was just as Betsy had described her: long bleached-blonde hair, boobs in a size triple-D, the waist of a teenager, and a new facelift. She wore a flowered sundress and on her arm was a nice looking gentleman, around her own age, just like Betsy had said. Her escort was an imposing man, well over 6 feet, built solidly with broad shoulders, penetrating blue eyes, thick brown hair and severe jaw. He was dressed in tan slacks and a teal polo shirt which matched Carmelita’s attire.

She saw Dorian, smiled and extended her hand. “Hello, Dorian, how are you?”

He kissed her hand and said, “I’m fine, Carmelita, and you are as beautiful as ever.”

She giggled.

“And who have you brought this time?” Dorian asked.

Carmelita leaned her tawny head toward her escort, “This is Brian Sutter.”

Brian and Dorian shook.

Dorian turned to Tom and me. “And this is…”

Carmelita left Brian and came right over to me, “Liza? Liza Wilcox?”

Tom, Dorian, and Brian’s faces showed almost as much surprise as mine.

“Yes, I’m Liza Wilcox.”

“I’d know you any where.” She grabbed me and hugged me. She turned to Dorian, “This is Joyce and William’s daughter.”

Dorian smiled. “Well, it is a small world.”

Carmelita hugged me again. “I was so sorry to hear about your parents, dear.”

“What happened to Joyce and William?” Dorian asked.

“They were killed in an airplane crash,” Carmelita pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and continued, “almost four years ago. My, how time flies.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Dorian took my hand and squeezed it. “I didn’t know. I assumed they decided not to take this cruise any more.”

“No.” I shook my head.