Hunter insisted I have a drink with him since it’d been some time since we’d seen each other. I wanted to say it was no great loss, but had to keep my mouth shut or risk blowing my cover.
Edie poured me a nice cold draft beer while Hunter had his usual Scotch. I leaned over to Edie and said, “I’m on the wagon tonight. Coke will do.”
Like a perfect bartender, she didn’t question me, but Hunter looked surprised.
“Migraine earlier. Too much pain med to mix with alcohol.”
It looked as if he bought that, but before I knew it, he had yanked me up and we were headed to the dance floor.
Music blared way too loudly for my head injury, but I sucked it up and moved farther away from Hunter. He kept trying to pull me closer. The dance floor became so crowded, we could barely move. Starting to feel claustrophobic, I said to Hunter, “My migraine seems to be coming back. I’ll have to sit this one out.”
I think he groaned in annoyance, but wasn’t sure over the blaring music, the yelling and laughter, and flickering strobe lights.
At this rate I might suffer a seizure.
When I got to a “clearing,” I looked up-and saw Tim standing in the doorway.
Remy must be back onboard!
I had to make my way over to him without being obvious and causing a scene with Hunter. All of a sudden, someone screamed.
I turned around and looked to where a woman in a skimpy silver dress pointed.
Jagger, eyes closed, was sinking lower and lower into the dolphin tank-with a stream of scarlet floating from behind his head.
Twenty-one
The Bottlenose Lounge could have been empty for all I cared. I ran so fast to the doorway, out into the hallway and up the stairs that the people shouting obscenities at me had no effect on me.
Jagger needed me.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I heard footsteps behind, but didn’t care. I yanked the door open and ran through. On the top of the tank, sitting near the edge and holding a knife…was Betty Halfpenny.
Oh…my…God.
No wonder she was so unusually nice!
I grabbed a life preserver from the wall, and rushed toward the water.
“Keep out, Sokol! You two have ruined everything,” she warned in a deadly voice. “Unless you want to be next.” She cackled. A cackle with a British accent.
Very eerie. Kinda like Mary Poppins without manners.
I stood on the edge of the tank, ready to dive in.
Betty grabbed my arm and sliced across my shoulder with the knife.
“Ouch!” I ignored the pain and smacked her across her face with the life preserver. I hoped it left a permanent imprint. “Let me go. He’ll die!”
“Then he shouldn’t have stuck his nose in my business.” She swung the knife again.
I ducked this time and realized Betty was not a very good fighter. Too proper, I imagined.
“I found your little camera. And some emails from a Fabio. You two have been spying on me…on us. Damn you, Pauline. Things were going so well until you came onboard.”
I shoved her with all my strength. She stumbled to the deck. I dove into the tank, forgetting my fears, forgetting the fact I couldn’t swim well, but not forgetting that by now Jagger was probably lying at the bottom of the tank.
The crystal clear water didn’t prove a detriment to my swimming lower. I couldn’t yank the life preserver down so I hung onto the rope and let the donut part go. It floated to the surface of the tank.
My lungs hurt worse than when I had run after Remy.
There, below, was Jagger, limply floating like a piece of seaweed.
I pumped my legs as hard as I could, and before I got closer, his body was propelled toward me, then past, then upward.
In awe I watched Johnny pushing Jagger’s body to the top. I turned, tightened my grip on the rope, and tried to swim upward. My lack of oxygen fought me all the way, until I felt something poke into my back. At first I feared Betty had thrown her knife down then looked to see my buddy Gilbert pushing me upward!
We reached the top of the tank in a second, a whoosh of air flew from my lungs and a deep intake of breath kept me conscious. Before I could thank them, I grabbed onto Jagger and pulled him to the edge.
The door to the stairwell swung open. Tim and the other agent rushed out-followed by Remy!
“Help!” I splashed the water to get their attention. “Tim!”
Suddenly Betty got up and flung the knife at me. It was the dolphin-handled steak knife. In her fury, she nicked my other shoulder with it. I swung around to see the knife splash into the water.
“You bitch! Now you’re in trouble!” I shouted, and then gasped. “I’m not going down after that, you know.”
Tim grabbed Jagger and lifted him over the side while the other agent pulled me out with the aid of several crewmembers. I heard a cough, a gurgle of water and, “Sherlock. Is she-”
Tears mixed with the tank water on my cheeks. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” With that I collapsed into the surprised agent’s arms.
Under the watchful eye of an armed Tim, Doc Peter stitched up both Jagger’s and my wounds. Sure it felt odd to have your doctor being guarded at gunpoint, but out at sea now, we had no other choice.
Peter had killed Jackie.
Betty had freaked out and told Jagger about the killing when he confronted her by the dolphin tank and accused her of medical-insurance fraud. Being ever so proper, it made it difficult for her to accept the nasty accusations-and it wasn’t true.
I’m sure Jagger skillfully goaded her into confessing more and more. I only wished I could have been there to hear-and help him, but he’d said Betty was insanely in love with Remy and really wasn’t involved in the fraud.
Her obsession had been only for Remy, and she hated Jackie because Jackie had found out-and teased her about her feelings, along with saying that Remy would never love her. Betty knew it was true. She’d had a past filled with weirdo boyfriends and never had found her real love.
“Ouch!” I said as Peter yanked on my arm.
Tim and Jagger both moved in as if for the kill.
Through clenched teeth Tim said, “My finger could just slip, buddy,” while Jagger said, “Don’t hurt the lady, Doctor.”
Oh, boy. Just what I needed. Stitches under pressure. I wondered how gigantic the scar would be.
I smiled to myself, lying on the exam table, Rico and Kris at the side and a sterile green paper sheet around my neck and back to keep the area germ free. I’m sure Peter couldn’t make one tiny slipup with all the watchful eyes around me.
I peeked up at Jagger. “What about Peter’s wife?”
“She and those kids were hired family. Actors, who knew nothing of the fraud or murder. Imagine. The guy had planned to have them come onboard as decoys. This way, he could make the moves on Betty behind the scenes while in the open professing to be a loving husband and father. Who would suspect a nice family physician to be involved in fraud? Peter thought he’d covered all the angles.”
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Peter whined.
Oh, boy. I could see that gigantic scar on my back now. “Well, Peter, you should have thought about the kind of attention you’d get when you killed Jackie,” I said. “Ouch!”
Tim looked down at me. “It might not be a good idea to antagonize the suspect while he’s stitching up your shoulder.”
Despite the pain-I swear Peter only gave me half the numbing drug on purpose-I laughed.
“I’ll put the dressing on,” Rico said, pushing Peter out of the way. I think he wanted to smack the guy, like the rest of us had the urge to do.
Peter slumped into a chair next to Betty, who sat like a proper statue under the guard of the other FBI guy, whose name I never did learn. A few of the crewmembers stood at their sides. Although Betty was handcuffed, Peter took her hand into his.