I rolled my eyes, but at least Goldie was able to grab my plate and replace it with his. With a swiftness that had me gasp, he removed the knife, sliced the steak in two and stuck half on Miles’s plate. Then he covered both with greens as camouflage.
I wiped my lips. “Um. That was delicious.” Mother was so busy talking to Jagger now-God bless him for helping in the deception-she didn’t pay any attention to me.
Soon we were all done and ready to head off in different directions.
“Maybe you can join us for dinner tonight, Pączki?” Daddy asked.
I kissed his cheek and hoped Jagger hadn’t heard the nickname. Not that he hadn’t before, but I wanted to be spared being called a fat donut in front of him yet again. “I may have to eat with the crew, Daddy. You enjoy yourselves though.”
He winked at me. I smiled and thought it really was great that they were having such a good time away from Hope Valley. Mother was like a new woman. But her darn radar was still intact.
“I hope you get more protein with dinner, Pauline. Shame on you for not eating your steak.”
I stood speechless while they got into the elevator on their way to go for a swim. Of course, they had to wait a few hours before getting into the water because Mother said they’d get cramps. As much as I tried to convince her that the old wives’ tale wasn’t true, she just ignored me. It really didn’t pay to argue with Stella Sokol.
Goldie and Miles were going for a stroll, so I kissed each one on the cheek and turned around. No Jagger. No great surprise. I walked down the long hallway to the other set of elevators and headed to the upper deck to find him.
Jagger was never easy to find. Most times when we worked a case, the guy was incognito. But this trip, he had dressed like the male host he was hired to be. At lunch he’d worn white slacks and a striped short-sleeve shirt. Looked very yuppie/ cruise-like/yet macho. What a combo. I walked along the railing, ignoring the fact that if I slipped and fell through the rails, I would be a goner in the deep, dark ocean below. I’d be deep-sea dead for sure. Of course, even as a size four, I couldn’t fit through the rails.
As I passed the tank that ran down to the Bottlenose Lounge, a little dolphin peeked its nose from the water, startling me.
I heard a chuckle and turned around to see Hunter standing there. “Cute. Isn’t it?”
I looked at the dolphin. “Is it real? Really a dolphin, that is? I mean, it’s so much smaller than I would have expected.”
“Buffeo dolphins are the smallest species. They don’t get bigger than four feet. That’s why we can keep them in this tank. Passengers get a kick out of them.”
“They are neat-looking, but are they happy?” I wanted to lean over and pet the creature, but realized that if I fell in, the tank went all the way down to the Bottlenose Lounge. Suddenly I backed up a few feet. Talk about feeling claustrophobic. Guess these little guys were perfect, although the lounge was named after the bigger bottlenose species. Most people probably never heard of the buffeo.
Obviously Hunter noticed my unease, but had the good manners not to say anything. “They’re sometimes called river dolphins since they are found in areas of the Amazon River.”
“Hmm. Fresh water.” I watched the three swimming around the pool while passengers stood and took pictures. A huge sign, DO NOT FEED THE DOLPHINS, was posted above the gold and purple decorated tank. “They are very graceful.”
“Yeah. Hey, Pauline. Sorry about last night. How about a rain check?”
Suddenly the dolphins were not foremost on my mind. “Oh, sure.”
“I’ll give you a call later today, once I see how my schedule is going.”
I nodded, and before I could say anything else, Hunter’s cell phone rang and he excused himself. I gave one last look at the dolphins, smiled at the little clowns and turned around.
At the far end of the deck, near the bar and a pool shaped like-you guessed it-a dolphin, sat a gaggle of singles. All women. All scantily clad in colorful bikinis. I blew out a breath and looked past them for Jagger. At any second, I expected him to pop up behind me.
Nearing the gaggle, I heard a laugh-a Jagger laugh. The most buxom of the blondes bent down to brush her hand across her ankle, and then I saw my coworker.
Damn. Talk about a diamond in the rough.
He sat there talking and laughing with the group, but I knew that inside, he was aching to get away from the attention. I leaned against the nearest lounge chair and waited. Maybe I wouldn’t rescue him for a few minutes.
How perfectly evil I felt.
Then he looked up and caught my eye. Oops. No way could I waste any more time with a look like that one. He and my mother were two pips when it came to conversing with their eyes. I hurried over and said, “I need to speak to you a moment.”
He nodded. “Well, ladies, I’ll be at the dance tonight.”
Collectively they let out a big, pathetic, “Oooooooh.” I shook my head and walked away from them, figuring Jagger would follow. I didn’t want to see any more of swooning or who knew what else these chicks would do for attention. In my day, women didn’t…oh…my…God.
I froze on the spot.
I’d become my mother.
I swallowed hard as if that would erase my thought and moved to a spot farther down the bar. “Anything you have on tap. Anything. And fast.”
“Make that two,” Jagger said from behind.
We got our beers and walked toward the bow of the ship. The wind made it difficult to maneuver, and occasionally I’d feel Jagger’s hand on my back as if trying to keep me from getting blown overboard.
White puffy clouds dotted the sky and seemed to follow along as the ship moved. I could see the horizon a gazillion miles away and thought there was no way that the Bermuda Triangle was going to affect this ship.
A salty sea breeze made the beer taste all the better as we sat on two steps of the stairs that led up to a deck where passengers were not allowed. Occasionally I could hear the squeak of the dolphins and would smile to myself.
I took another sip and said, “Oh. Did you happen to notice if Jackie had on a rope ankle bracelet when we saw her…? Her-”
“She didn’t.” He took a sip of his beer, looked out over the railings and said, “Why?”
It wasn’t an accusatory tone. Thank goodness. My chest puffed up like a peacock’s when I said, “Well, I remembered she had one on when she was painting her toes. And, in a photo she had under her pillow, Remy had one on his wrist. It looked the same.”
Jagger sat silently for what seemed like hours. Slowly he turned to me and said, “Atta girl, Sherlock.”
The wind could have blown me overboard, and I’d die happy.
At least Jagger and I had something that had to be relevant to the case. A rope bracelet or an anklet. He was going to share what we knew with the FBI agents, and I jotted down a note for myself. Not sure what would become of the information, I put a star next to it and decided we needed to get into the infirmary again.
Jagger had to go for an “appointment” with one of the female passengers, who apparently had requested him for a bowling game. Yeah, right, I thought to myself. Bowling, shmowling. I made my way back to my cabin to freshen up and then head off to the infirmary.
When I walked through the door of my room, Betty let out a gasp. She swung around and then relaxed. “Oh, my. I’m not used to having someone walk in on me.”
She had been sitting in the chair reading. Not like she was doing something illegal. But I understood. She was used to her privacy.
“I’m sorry. Next time I’ll knock first.”
“No need. You live here now. How’s your day going?” She set her copy of what looked like some kind of cookbook down on the bed.