“I’d be delighted,” Helen said. She was, too. She’d wanted to search that cabin since she’d seen Carl board with his mysterious backpack.
“You won’t thank me when you clean the boys’ shower,” Mira said.
“They can’t be any worse than Ralph,” Helen said.
“I’ll throw in a load of laundry for you as a thank-you present,” Mira said.
The day passed quickly. Helen caught a glimpse of the splendid table before the glittering guests sat down to dinner at eight. The soft candlelight warmed the honey oak table and made the crystal sparkle like fine jewels. The centerpiece was delicate seashells and small, exquisite flowers.
“It’s lovely,” Helen said as she hurried off to clean the guest head. Scotty had turned the bathroom into an ashtray. How did he get ashes on the sconces? And did he have to stub out his cigar in the marble basin?
The harder she scrubbed, the more the cigar residue turned into a streaky paste. I’m not cut out for this job, she thought resentfully. Phil’s working for a hot, horny widow and I’m swabbing toilets like a drudge. I’m sure my husband isn’t interested in a woman like Blossom. Well, pretty sure. But I’d feel a lot better if I could go home and make sure. And I can’t do that until I solve this wretched emerald case.
Helen gave the basin one last swipe. There. The cigar ash was gone. She sprayed the head with vanilla air freshener to get rid of the cigar stink and slipped downstairs to fold more laundry and finish the guest turndown service.
After dinner, Ralph, Scotty and Earl knocked back the last of the thirty-year-old cognac. At three in the morning they stumbled off to bed.
Helen helped Mira clean the upper aft deck. All the men had been smoking cigars, and Helen was dusting away the ash.
“Did I tell you my good news?” Mira asked, gathering up the cognac bottle and glasses. “I got a text from my boyfriend. We’re going to New York as soon as we get back to Fort Lauderdale. The yacht gets in about eleven and the crew should be finished by noon. Kevin and I are booked for a three o’clock flight to LaGuardia that afternoon. Four days in Manhattan.”
“Bet you can’t wait to see the Broadway shows,” Helen said.
“I can’t,” Mira said. “But Kevin has a chance to try out for an off-Broadway show. Well, off-off-Broadway. But it’s still a New York theater credit.”
“Congratulations,” Helen said. “That’s—”
Crash!
“Was that coming from the galley?” Helen asked.
“Sounds like it,” Mira said. “I hope Suzanne didn’t drop any Baccarat.”
The crash was a disaster. Suzanne had broken a Baccarat snifter and an entire place setting of the rare Royal Copenhagen. More than seven thousand dollars would be docked from her pay.
The chef was picking up the pieces from the galley floor. Long strands of dark hair had escaped their clip and her face sagged with fatigue. Her fingers trembled as she cleaned up the broken pieces. Helen thought she saw tears in Suzanne’s sad brown eyes.
“I’m sorry about that,” Helen told her.
Suzanne shrugged. “Those are the breaks, no pun intended,” she said. “I’ll roll with it.”
Helen wasn’t sure she believed her.
CHAPTER 29
At eight the next morning, Helen saw the chef stumble through the galley door, loaded with cloth bags and cardboard boxes of fish and produce. A coconut teetered atop a bag of lettuce, limes and lemons. It tumbled off as the chef crossed the threshold.
Helen abandoned her cleaning caddy and caught the coconut before it hit the floor. Suzanne didn’t acknowledge her timely catch.
“Here, let me help you,” Helen said, taking a bag overflowing with oranges. “Where are the boys?”
“Working,” Suzanne said. She sounded impatient. “We’re all working so we can swim this afternoon. They have to wash the boat before we can go.”
The chef unwrapped a fat silvery fish, so fresh it smelled like the sea. In another bag, Helen caught a flash of glittering green. “What’s that?”
“Nothing,” the chef said. “I have work to do. So do you.”
Dismissed.
As she left with her caddy, Helen saw the chef stow the bag with the tantalizing glimmer in a cabinet. Helen would investigate later.
The guests were up shockingly early this morning, eager to go to Atlantis. The crew would be gone in a few hours. Helen couldn’t wait. She even looked forward to cleaning Andrei and Carl’s cabin. The first mate had acted oddly with that backpack. Helen had to know why.
Shortly after eleven o’clock, the crew was at the swim platform in their suits, bodies shiny with sunscreen, beach towels slung over their shoulders. Mira climbed aboard the tender and issued a halfhearted invitation. “You’re sure you won’t come with us?”
“Go!” Helen waved them away. “You’re wasting party time.”
“Listen to the lady,” Sam called, popping a beer and toasting her.
Helen ran back into the yacht. She was alone, except for the captain. She found her cell phone, then ran up to the bridge and tapped on his door.
The captain was frowning at paperwork. “You’ve found the smuggler,” he said.
“Not yet,” she said. “I need your help with another case. Do you recognize this woman?”
The captain studied the photo on her cell phone, then said, “Her name is Blossom. She was a guest about a year ago. Scotty brought her.”
“Is she a hooker?” Helen asked.
Josiah hesitated.
“Our conversation is confidential,” Helen said. “This woman may have murdered a man in Florida. She has an outstanding warrant for prostitution in California. We’re trying to trace her movements before she met the victim.”
“I believe she’s a prostitute,” Josiah said. “She dressed like one and her behavior upset the women. Scotty shipped her back to California after the cruise.”
Helen noticed that “shipped” made it sound as if Blossom were defective merchandise. “Did she steal from him?” she asked. “You’re not breaking any confidences. I heard Beth say so.”
“Yes,” Josiah said. “She ran off with about fifty thousand dollars in cash and jewelry. Scotty refused to report it.”
Helen nodded. “She surfaced in Lauderdale about a month ago, newly married to another rich older man. His family believes she killed him. But Blossom has completely changed her appearance.”
“Not completely,” Josiah said. “I recognize her.”
“You know the rich better than I do,” Helen said. “Let me run a theory by you: Blossom wanted to marry a rich man. She latched onto Scotty, but made major mistakes. Scotty wanted rid of her. She stole from Scotty and used his money to land another prospect.”
Josiah nodded. “That could happen.”
Yes! Now ideas zinged through Helen’s brain, sparking thoughts and creating connections.
“With Scotty’s fifty thousand, Blossom could buy a new identity and the right wardrobe,” Helen said. “She was aboard the Earl long enough to know how women in this world dress. She could have hired a personal shopper. Does that make sense?”
“It does,” Josiah said. “It’s possible she learned from her mistakes and caught another wealthy man. But I’m paying you to catch my smuggler.”
“I should have something for you by tomorrow,” Helen said. In fact, I’m on my way to catch the smuggler now, she thought.
Helen headed straight for the galley where Suzanne had stashed the bag with the fascinating flash of green. Please let it be emeralds, she thought. Smuggling would explain why Suzanne had laughed off the abandoned late-night dinner and shrugged away seven thousand dollars’ worth of broken china.