Please say “okay” and get the heck out of here so I can snoop.
She nodded and left without fixing herself a coffee. Great. I reached up for Remy’s bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups. My hand froze in midair. It was kinda spooky, touching the stuff of a missing man.
Maybe a dead man.
Jackie’s fate had me thinking along those lines more and more lately. I told myself to calm down, that I didn’t know Remy personally and so had no emotional sorrow to prevent me from cleaning and snooping. I touched the bag of candy.
No electric shocks. No premonitions of where Remy might be. And no lump in my throat.
The bag landed in the trash along with a box of tea bags, which I could never bring myself to use, and all the other boxes and bags of snacks. Remy had to have worked out a lot to have such a good physique and be able to eat all this junk food.
When I touched the file box, Is hut my eyes a second and prayed there would be something useful in it for me. I gave a quick eye sweep of the room. Topaz was gone-back at the front desk, I felt certain. Peter wasn’t there, nor was Rico, who I learned at breakfast was going to orient me today.
Betty must have traded shifts after her “date” last night. Way to go, Betty!
I smiled to myself and grabbed the box. Not sure what I’d find, I thought of the old fable of the lady and the tiger. If she picked the wrong door, she’d be eaten. What might happen to me? I held on to the top of the box for a few seconds before moving it. Maybe something would jump out at me! Maybe there’d be some dead mouse, who’d eaten Remy’s snacks, in the box.
I leaned against the wall and gingerly opened the top.
“Geez!”
Twelve
I stifled a scream as I watched a tiny black spider hightail it out of the file box. I shook my head and was damn glad Jagger wasn’t around to tease me unabashedly.
After I chastised myself and decided most women (and lots of men) hated spiders or any crawly things, I looked into the box. A Swiss army knife, very worn, a broken compass, a few old receipts for purchases of clothing and cologne from duty-free shops in Bermuda and a key.
Hmm. A key. Pay dirt?
I should have turned the box over to the captain, but gave myself permission, with the logic that I needed it for my case, to keep the key for twenty-four hours.
Despite the fact that I had no idea what it was to, I stuck it in my pocket and shut the box. Then I took a few paper towels and some Windex to wipe out the inside of what was now my cabinet. Not that I had anything to put into it, but I thought it was better cleansed of any Remy reminders.
Or spider food.
After I threw out the paper towels, I took the box and headed toward the reception desk. Rico and Topaz were playing cards.
“Slow morning?”
They looked at me.
“Oh, hey, amore, how are you doing?” Rico asked. He looked at the box. “Taking notes about all of us?” He laughed.
My eyes widened. Did he suspect something? I forced a laugh to hide any guilty look that might come across my face and set the box down. “Ha. Ha. Good one.” I leaned closer to him. “You’ve exposed me. I am an international spy. Got something to hide?” I laughed then said, “Seriously, I found this in my kitchenette cabinet.”
“Remy’s old cabinet,” Topaz clarified.
They looked at each other. I couldn’t see Rico’s face, but thought Topaz looked as if she knew something that I didn’t. Geez. Was this the ship of ghouls or ship of fools? And was I the number-one fool?
It seemed as if they all had some secret, or at least things they weren’t sharing with me. There was something going on behind the scenes and no one was letting me see the dress rehearsal.
“What should I do with this?” I set it down on the counter. They glared at it and then looked up at me. “My personal take is that I think it should go to the captain.”
Rico nodded. “Sounds like a plan. What’s inside anyway?”
I touched the top then stopped. “I have no idea. I didn’t open it. Didn’t feel right to pry.”
“I’ll pry away,” Topaz said, yanking the top open. “Shit. Him and that stupid knife. Carried it with him. Used to practice throwing it at the walls on the lower deck. If the captain knew. Shit. Odd that old Remy didn’t take it with him.”
Odd indeed.
Maybe that’s why he’d used a steak knife to kill Jackie.
Rico laughed while I wondered if they bought the fact that I said I hadn’t looked inside. I peeked behind Rico to the golden-mirrored wall to see if I looked guilty.
Naw.
Maybe I really was developing in my new profession. After three cases, I proclaimed that I was. I was nearly a full time fraud investigator, working my first case alone.
Just because Jagger was on the ship as reinforcement, didn’t mean I had to share everything with him.
And look how far I’d gotten!
“And a key,” I told Jagger, after deciding I was smart enough to know when to use the skills of my reinforcement and mentor. On my lunch break, I’d caught him playing shuffleboard with the young kitten who never seemed to like my interfering and was always around “Jay.”
Jagger introduced her as Bobbie Lee from Alabama. Southern debutante, I “declared” to myself and then felt a strong urge to slap the “darling” for being so domineering of my Jagger. Of Jagger that is. Of course he wasn’t mine.
Bobbie Lee indeed. What kind of name was that for a girl anyway? A young, sexy and Southern girl. Ha. No wonder the possessiveness with her Jay. I think she would have shoved me overboard if given half the chance.
I held onto the railing, so glad to see the seas calm and the sun sparkling on the crests of the waves. And Jagger in shorts.
Bermuda white shorts. Part of the hot-weather uniform.
Damn, but he had dynamite legs!
A storm of heat spun inside me now. What a day this was turning out to be.
After I tore my vision from Jagger’s legs-and yes, he did notice me staring and shook his head at me, I let go of the railing (but never turned my back on Bobbie Dear) and touched Jagger’s arm. “Could I have a moment with you? Please.”
He gave me an odd look, and then said to his “date,” “Excuse me for a few minutes. Why don’t you go get us each a lemonade? Put them on my tab, of course.”
At first I thought she’d break out in tears and have a temper tantrum, much like my two-year-old nephew was known to do, right in the middle of the shuffleboard court. But she rolled her eyes at me, gave Jagger a saucy smile and turned toward the bar. I don’t think kitten Bobbie ever served anyone lemonade in her life.
I bit my tongue before saying, “I thought she’d never leave, and what the heck are you doing with her? I think there are statutory rape laws even out at sea.” I yanked Jagger toward the dolphin tank and found a quiet spot away from the bar. Nice and secluded.
“What’s going on?” he asked, sitting in the shade.
The guy didn’t even burn in the sun. Only turned a healthy golden shade. Then I clarified what I had started to tell him about the case, the box and my cabinet, and said, “We really need to find out more about Remy. I think he’s the solution to all of this.”
Jagger ran his hand through his hair.
I looked away. Gilbert the dolphin looked at me, and I think he smiled. Or maybe grinned. Men.
Several passengers surrounding the pool looked at me. After a gracious smile, I turned back.
“You’re right, Sherlock.”
Damn, that felt good. “But how?”
He looked at me. I thought he was going to say that it was my problem, but instead he said, “Let me get Bobbie Lee settled, and I’ll meet you in the infirmary.”
Get rid of Bobbie Lee, was more like it, I thought.