Mystral Murder (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) (2 page)

Shaking his head and laughing, he went to help her. “I can’t believe you care what the cabin steward thinks. You need to relax, babe.”

Like you?
Julie thought, her concern front and center again.  Instead she just smiled and took a long look at him.
He’s not drunk, at least not so anyone else would notice.

He came around the bed and caught her up in his arms. “C’mon, four thousand people on this ship and
we’re
dining with the Captain!  And you look gorgeous…” He spun her around so that they were reflected in the mirror over the dresser.

Julie stood in front of him, dressed in a strapless black velvet sheath, her hair in a ponytail tied with a black ribbon. “Four inch heels and I’m still shorter than you,” she said, smiling in spite of herself. 

“A lot prettier, too,” Joe said. “Just one thing, though…for me,” and he pulled the ribbon from her hair, allowing the red-brown waves to cascade over her shoulders.  “Now, Ms. O’Hara, you’re ready for the Captain’s Table.”

Right.
Are you, Joe?

*
* * * *

CHAPTER 4

T
he Mystral’s Medical Center had closed for the day and not a moment too soon, as far as the medical staff was concerned. With four thousand passengers and crew, some days in the severely limited facility were hell. But today, with a virus scare going around, at least a hundred passengers had either called or dropped in looking for antibiotics. And they weren’t happy to be told that antibiotics were only effective against bacterial infections and not viruses.

An independently run operation, the Medical Center was woefully small and understaffed, primarily designed to handle ordinary illness and small scale accidents. Beyond initial diagnosis, the ship’s doctors and staff were capable of stabilizing patients and providing therapeutic intervention for most things.  But when a patient was seriously ill or injured, it fell to the chief shipboard physician to make the call whether or not to evacuate that person to the nearest port hospital.  One such patient had been taken off the ship today and raised bloody hell about it. “You haven’t heard the end of this, Dr. Sinclair! Do you know how much I paid for this cruise?”

Now, with her workday done and another doctor on call, Dr. Michelle Sinclair, the ship’s Principal Medical Officer, determined to put that angry man out of her mind.

Breathing deeply, she stood under her shower letting the stress of the day swirl away down the drain. This was her indulgence. Here, in the privacy of her cabin, she ignored the ship’s instructions to “limit water usage”. Because she didn’t need makeup, Michelle’s shower usually took up half of the twenty or thirty minutes she spent getting dressed.

She toweled off and used the blow-dryer on her dark, shoulder-length hair. Then she deftly twisted it, still damp, into a smooth knot at the nape of her neck.  Choosing clothes took no time at all since officers were required to wear uniforms at all times in public areas. She went to her closet where starched and fitted white shirts were lined up, one after another, with several just-above-the-knee, white straight skirts.  Three of the shirts had extra gold braid on the epaulets, for formal occasions like tonight. She pulled out a set and dressed quickly, slipping on a pair of medium-height, white sling-back heels.

She had calmed down and was feeling like herself again when the phone rang. She picked it up with a sigh and, as usual, didn’t even get a chance to say hello.

“I know. I’m sorry. Yes, I know that his wife is upset, too. If she was so sure that he’s ‘going to be fine’, she didn’t have to get off with him. They aren’t traveling alone, after all.”

Michelle held the phone away from her ear. When the rant abated she said, “Please don’t threaten me. I don’t like it,” and she hung up. She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

Tonight, once again, she would sit next to Andrew at the Captain’s Table.

*
* * * *

CHAPTER 5

J
ulie and Joe stood outside their stateroom, invitation in hand, looking left and right. When it came to getting around, the elite folks up on the tenth deck still had to navigate the same narrow, labyrinthine corridors as all the other passengers. Thus far, having eaten at the buffet on the Lido Deck, they had never been to the Main Dining Room and they were trying to remember where it was.

Miguel, their cabin steward, spotted them. 

“Your stateroom is starboard, right front of the ship. The closest elevator is the one on your right, and your best bet for most areas is to get off at Deck 4. The Main Dining Room is aft, all the way to the rear.”

“Of course,” Julie said, “thank you, Miguel.”

“My pleasure, Ms. O’Hara, Mr. Garrett. Have a nice evening,” he said, bowing.

“How to look like a couple of dorks in one easy lesson,” Joe said, as they descended in the elevator. Laughing at themselves, they got off on Deck 4.

They barely noticed the movement of the ship as they strolled through the long Photo Gallery and past the Odyssey Lounge, the site of Julie’s seminar. Through the windows on their left, the sinking sun splashed pink across the sky and turned the sea to gold. Joe led Julie outside where they simply held hands and admired the glorious sunset for a while.

When they reached the center of the ship, the space opened-up on an area several stories high, with floors of inlaid travertine marble, tall contemporary glass sculptures and palms. Twin winding staircases, their railings agleam with polished brass, led skyward to Deck 5. 

Near them on Deck 4, some passengers lined up at the purser’s office, while others sipped coffee just beyond them in the Internet Café. On the right, a pianist in a white dinner jacket played Cole Porter on a baby grand piano to the delight of several couples in formal wear who sipped cocktails, smiling and humming.

They stopped to look at a cutaway diagram of the ship’s decks.

“Do you want to go through the Casino or the Promenade?” Joe asked. A popular meeting place, the Promenade was up the staircase on Deck 5. It was a giant atrium with boutique shops, casual restaurants and bars.

And that’s when Julie made her first mistake of the night with Joe.

“Let’s walk through the Casino.”

And so they stepped into Circe’s realm of gaily flashing machines with their happy siren songs and cascading coins. The slots were all busy, with several machines chanting,
“Wheel-Of-Fortune!”
Blinking lights on top of one drew attention to an ecstatic winner, a middle-aged woman in a fancy gold dress, jumping up and down.  Smiling servers dressed in black pants and white shirts with black bowties carried trays of colorful cocktails adorned with fruit.

Joe’s pace slowed to a crawl as he avidly scanned every inch of the Casino, his eyes settling on a poker table off to their right.

“Hey, look! It’s Gill Byrne. C’mon, let’s go say hello.”

Joe had done some investigation for Gill Byrne’s attorney when Gill divorced his ex-wife.
They had a little girl.
That was a big divorce case,
Julie recalled.
And then we went to his wedding
. That was a few years ago and Julie couldn’t remember having seen him since then.

“Hey, Gill,” Joe said. “How’s Lady Luck treating you?”

“See for yourself,” Gill said, smiling and pointing to the chips stacked in front of him. “Hi, Merlin,” he said to Julie, using a nickname which had become her business moniker.  “Cathy said your seminar was terrific.”

Oh, my God, that was Cathy who asked that question about family and friends! I didn’t recognize her under that big straw hat. And she was so thin! I hope she’s okay…

“Yes. I saw her there.  Where is she?”

“She’s at the cocktail party, getting her picture taken with the Captain.  I don’t know what for; it’s not like they don’t take pictures of everybody at the Captain’s Table.”

“We’re sitting at the Captain’s Table, too,” Joe said, happily. “Honey,” he said, turning to Julie, “why don’t you go in and join Cathy. You girls can catch up and I’ll meet you in the dining room at eight.”

Oblivious to Julie’s expression, he turned to Gill and plowed right on.

“You guys don’t mind if I sit in, do you?”

After a good-old-boys’ chorus of “hell, no,” Joe pulled out a chair, leaving Julie no choice but to muster a half-smile and walk away…steaming.

Great, just great. Is this how it’s going to be all night?

Julie was at a loss; she didn’t know how to react to Joe’s altered personality. He’d always been so considerate, always put her feelings first. 
Maybe I’m spoiled
, she thought.
This was Joe’s vacation, too, after all.
If he wants to play a little poker, why shouldn’t he?

Because it’s not about poker,
she told herself, answering her own question. They were on their way to a formal dinner...together
.

She was halfway to the Windward Lounge before she got a handle on her negative thoughts.
I’m not going to dwell on that, and I’m not going to worry about the rest of the night, either. Being invited to dine with the Captain on a ship like this is special. I’ll enjoy it and so will Joe. I’ll stay “in the moment” and leave tomorrow’s problems for tomorrow.

As a body language expert, Julie knew that smiling was often the first step out of the blues, so she pasted one on and waltzed into the cocktail hour.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 6

T
here was nowhere left to sit in the Windward Lounge, as passengers with Second Seating in the Main Dining Room were all gathered there waiting for their turn to be photographed in their finery with the Captain and two officers. The early birds sat chatting on comfortable sofas and club chairs, while the late arrivals mingled on the dance floor. A string quartet played light classical music, a pleasant background which didn’t interfere with the hum of conversation.

Julie looked around the room, admiring some of the formal wear.
It’s nice to see people dressed so elegantly
, she thought.
The occasion to dress like this is so rare in Orlando.
She spotted a slim woman across the room wearing a stunning emerald green strapless gown. It was Cathy Byrne. She was talking to two women, both in black. One was a tall, nice-looking woman with salt and pepper gray hair. She was wearing a tasteful knee-length dress with a short tuxedo jacket. The other was a younger, familiar woman in a mid-thigh, lacy number that fit as only a designer original can do. The petite woman, with her clipped pixie hairdo and big brown eyes, reminded Julie of Audrey Hepburn playing
Sabrina
. 

Cathy saw Julie and waved her over. “Julie, you look absolutely fabulous!”

“Thank you. So do
you
,” Julie said, following her lead.

Turning toward the two women Cathy said “This is Adrienne
Paradis and Lottie Pelletier.  We were just talking about how much we enjoyed your seminar.”

“Thank you so much. It’s a pleasure to meet you. 
‘Adrienne, of Paradis Travel,’
Julie said, recognizing the younger woman. “Of course! I knew you looked familiar. I’ve seen your wonderful ads. So tempting! Your office is in Winter Park, isn’t it?”

“Yes, for Central Florida. We have quite a few locations in the state.”

“More like all over the world,” Cathy said.

There was some kind of undercurrent between Cathy and Adrienne that Julie couldn’t quite put her finger on. 
Were they friends or, what was that new term? Frenemies
.

“Is that right?”

“Yes, it is,” Adrienne said. “We’ve been very fortunate.  My parents started the business many years ago in Paris.”

“Paris,” Julie said wistfully, “that’s a city I’d love to visit.  My friend and I have been talking about it, in fact.”

“Where
is
Joe? Cathy asked, looking around the room.

“I’m afraid he’s with your husband,” Julie said. “They’re aiding and abetting each other in the Casino.”

All four women smiled knowingly.

“I must go,” Lottie Pelletier said. “I enjoyed your seminar, Julie.  Have a good evening everyone,” she said, as she followed the Captain and his entourage from the room.

***

Julie and Cathy arrived in time to join Joe and Gill, who were part of a crowd moving slowly into the Main Dining Room.  Joe flashed a big smile at Julie and she returned it, her earlier pique somewhat dissipated.  She took his hand and they all moved forward, couple by couple. Looking up at Joe, Julie came to a conclusion despite her concern about his drinking.
So far, it just seems to make him more sociable.

They were taken aback by the sheer size and splendor of the dining room. Marble columns supported second and third level balconies on either side, each of which accommodated almost
as many tables as the main floor. A deep crimson and blue carpet of oriental style covered the whole, wall to wall, and every chair was upholstered in pale blue damask. Snow white table linen drew one’s eye to the Mystral’s distinctive blue and gold charger plates, set among more polished glass and silverware than the average person could possibly use in a single meal. Sparkling crystal hung like diamonds from recessed tray ceilings, creating a soft glow over each separate dining area.