Mystral Murder (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) (8 page)

“Thank you,” Joe said, as the hovering waiter once again refilled his water glass. “We appreciate the wonderful service, but we’d like to be alone.”

“Of course, sir, excuse me,” the waiter said, smiling and backing away.

Julie smiled. “Funny how you have more privacy in a crowded hamburger joint.”

“Well, I think they’ve got the message now. So, did you enjoy your afternoon in the sun?” he said, taking her hand. “And did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Julie was wearing a strapless floral bandeau and white linen slacks.

“Thank you. But don’t you want to know what I learned today?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t trump how gorgeous you are.”

“Good, I’m glad,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Okay, here’s the pool report.  First of all, Cathy and Adrienne were only friends on the surface.  Cathy didn’t like her much and won’t miss her. Gill Byrne, on the other hand, did like Adrienne, I think…as far as he’s able to.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that Gill is a self-centered man. He may be smart, but he has the emotional maturity of a twenty year-old. I think making money and taking risks are his drivers.
I think he views life as a poker game, where the player with the biggest pile of chips is the winner.”

“
He digs adventure, no question. He’s gone hunting in Africa and taken a trip up the Amazon.” Joe laughed, thinking about it. “Gill even drops out of a helicopter to ski.”

“So here’s what I’m wondering, Joe: Why did he like Adrienne? A guy like him pals around with other guys. He certainly didn’t care about her as a travel agent. That would be about as important to him as a decorator.  Cathy was the one employing Adrienne’s services; Cathy is the one who likes luxury cruises.

“Like you just said, Joe, this isn’t Gill’s kind of vacation. He’s taken all these cruises to placate Cathy. But how does an adventurer like him tolerate it? Well, he can gamble, for one thing. We know he does that. What other risks might he take? What else could he do to make a boring cruise more interesting?”

“He might screw around with his wife’s friend, the travel agent.”

“Bingo. That night at the Top Hat club, Adrienne was all over you; the two of you were dancing like it was a marathon. Dale and Cathy were talking about the meal we had and how great it was, but Gill wasn’t saying a word. He was drinking scotch, one after another, and
scowling
. At the time, I thought it was the liquor.”

“You think he was jealous?”

“Why not? You don’t have to love somebody to be jealous. You only have to be possessive and immature. The fact that Gill is just as charming as ever doesn’t negate the possibility that he might have given Adrienne a shove. Think about it:  He’s a handsome, wealthy thrill-seeker who goes through women like Kleenex. Guys like that lack empathy, and they don’t take responsibility for their actions.  And there’s something else, Joe. I asked Cathy if Security had questioned her and Gill about where they were after the Top Hat. She intimated that they were in their suite all that night, but they ‘had a small problem’ because Gill had ‘gone out for a walk’.”

“You’re saying that Gill is like a little boy smashing a toy so some other kid can’t play with it? That’s a leap for me, Merlin.”

“Some little boys grow up like that, is all I’m saying. So what about Dale Simpson?”

“Dale’s a bigger possibility, in my opinion,” Joe said. He leaned back, his left elbow on the armrest. “There’s a reason why cops usually zero in on the husband.  Dale’s got less of an alibi for the time Adrienne went overboard than I have, and he’s got ten times as much motive.”

“Correction,” she said. “You don’t have
any
motive.”

“No. Security just thinks I’m covering up an accident. But you know what’s interesting?
Dale
doesn’t suspect me of a thing, even though I got drunk with his wife and was the last person seen with her. That’s a little strange, don’t you think? I can tell you right now, if our situations were reversed and
you
were missing, Dale would be answering some tough questions or bleeding all over the floor.

“Looks to me like he knows I wasn’t there when she went over the side. You know why he wanted to get together?
Because I’m a private investigator.  He can’t prove he was in his cabin when she went missing. He wanted me to help him figure out how to cover his ass.”

“They didn’t look like a happy couple to me,” Julie said. “Adrienne ignored him, never mentioned his baseball career; she didn’t even use his last name when she introduced him.”

“They
used
to be happy, according to Dale. It sounded like a whirlwind romance in the beginning, although he didn’t give up the throne to marry Adrienne. Apparently, the Rays were about to let him go. Adrienne’s parents in France weren’t too happy about the marriage; they made sure he signed a pre-nuptial agreement. My guess is Dale would have gotten zip in a divorce, and then what would he do? He dropped out of college to play ball, and he wasn’t that good at it. There’s an insurance policy, too. I don’t know the size of it, but he’s the beneficiary.

“Look, here’s a guy that was used as arm-candy, married to a woman who kept him on a leash to entertain her clients, a woman who probably cheated on him and never wanted to have kids. I’d say Dale’s got plenty of motives.”

“No wonder he’s scared,” Julie said. “If he did it, it couldn’t have been premeditated, Joe. Surely, he would have seen what an obvious suspect he’d be? Maybe it
was
an accident.”

“It doesn’t matter. No body, no witnesses. Who can prove anything?”

***

As per Captain Collier’s announcement the night before, all the ship’s entertainment went on as scheduled, so after dinner they were able to catch the second show in the two-story Caribe Theatre. It was a terrific show with lavish costumes and sets, a performance that brought the audience to their feet. For Julie and Joe, it put all their cares on hold, as they laughed and clapped and got back into vacation mode.

They left just before the finale in order to beat the crowd to one of the elevators. The doors slid open on Deck 10 not far from their stateroom and they walked along talking happily, still in awe of one young woman whose soaring voice had wowed everyone.

Joe opened the door to 1272, but allowed Julie to enter first.

“Your cabin awaits, mademoiselle. It
ain’t Paris, but it ain’t bad.”

Miguel had set the stage for romance. The lights were low and smooth jazz played softly. The glass doors to the balcony were closed, but the drapes were drawn back framing the full moon, its silver path sparkling across the waves. Clean white, ironed sheets were turned back on the queen-size bed, the pillows plumped just so, a chocolate on each.

The ocean view beckoned and Joe slid the doors open to let in the sound of the sea and the warm, fresh salt air. They kissed and undressed each other slowly. When they were naked, Julie headed for the bed. “No, come with me,” Joe said. He grabbed the extra blanket and led her out on the balcony. Pushing the deck chairs aside, he spread the blanket on the floor.

“Lay there, Julie.”

She stretched out on the blanket, the moon and stars overhead.

“Is this like the ‘mile high club’ on planes?” she asked.

“Way better…”

*
* * * *

CHAPTER 22

B
ob Sanchez, the Ship’s Hotel Manager, was conferring
sotto voce
with Lana Medeiros, his trusted Head of Housekeeping, who also personally took care of the Captain’s quarters. They were both tired after the rigors of the day, but felt that there were important things to discuss before they went to their respective cabins and turned in for the night.

In light of the recent Man-Overboard investigation, the issue at hand was whether or not they should reveal certain things…and if so, how much …and to whom?

For example, Captain Collier knew nothing about Ms. Paradis-Simpson’s impropriety. As much as the two of them wanted to tell the Captain about it, they had both accepted “a little thank-you gift” from Mr. Byrne for their discretion, something that he would, no doubt, bring up, thus jeopardizing their jobs. Besides, the mere fact of a dalliance meant nothing, really, and it would certainly embarrass Mr. and Mrs. Byrne.

And then there was the issue of Dr. Sinclair, whom Lana had seen leaving the Captain’s quarters in the early hours of the morning when the
Paradis woman went missing.  Not that that was unusual; Dr. Sinclair always left before dawn. But giving Security that bit of information would surely cost them their jobs.  Plus, they really liked Captain Collier and had no desire to embarrass him, either.

It was a sticky wicket, but as crew members, they were used to keeping secrets, especially in their positions.

Mrs. Medeiros, who answered to Mr. Sanchez, was ultimately accountable for the care and cleaning of over eighteen-hundred cabins and suites.
Heaven knows
how many clandestine afternoon meetings and nighttime cabin switching she’d seen over the years!

And as for Mr. Sanchez?
  Most people couldn’t possibly imagine the load he carried on his shoulders. Take weekly provisions for the restaurants, just
one
of his many responsibilities.  Who could imagine negotiating for 65,000 pounds of fresh vegetables or 35,000 pounds of fresh fruit?  Or 20,000 pounds of beef? Or 4,000 pounds of seafood? 

Bob Sanchez did
not
want to get involved in this woman’s disappearance.  After all, she wasn’t
here
complaining about an issue he could do something about, like a robbery…the woman was
gone
.  Of course her disappearance was troubling, but it was an extra problem he didn’t need. He came to a conclusion.

Adrienne
Paradis-Simpson wasn’t one of us, she was a passenger. I’m going to let Security handle it. They’ll figure it out, or hand it off to US law enforcement and the Coast Guard.

“You know, Mrs. Medeiros, it’s none of our business.”

“Oh, I agree, Mr. Sanchez,” Lana said with relief.

They said goodnight and went to their rooms.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 23

M
ichelle arrived at Andrew’s cabin at ten sharp that evening. He opened the door looking so tall and handsome that he made her heart sing. As usual, he quickly looked up and down the corridor. “Did you see Lana?” he asked.

“No, Andrew, but she knows. You can’t keep a secret on a ship. Don’t worry. The crew is happy for you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He took her in his arms and they kissed. “You smell
so
good. I missed you last night. Come, we need to talk.” He took her hand and led her to the couch and they sat down. “I wanted to wait, to surprise you, but now I think I’ve got to delay my plan until all this mess is over. I’m going to ask HCL for permission to marry, Michelle.”

“What?”

“If we were married, we could live together and work here on the Mystral.”

“But how?” she asked, surprised. “They don’t allow that unless you’re in equal positions, Andrew. I thought they discouraged it even then.”

“That’s true, but they can do anything they want; it’s not like they’re bound by law. It depends on how much they value our service. Besides, you’re independent.”

Andrew was referring to her special status as an Independent Contractor, which allowed the cruise industry to escape any liability for its medical care. Other aspects of Michelle’s unique situation as the Principal Medical Officer hung in the air, unspoken…

HCL’s primary concern for medical care was cost. Personnel with dubious training often came from third world countries.  US doctors with zero experience who would work for low pay were prized, with many being hired on the cheap before the ink on their license was dry. And if an experienced American doctor like Michelle Sinclair could be hired for the same price… well, HCL was only too happy to award three stripes and ask no questions.

“There’s going to be an investigation, Michelle.  It’s already begun.”

“Shh, don’t worry, my love,” she said, standing and soothing him. “Everything will be fine.” She took his strong, bearded face in her hands and kissed him. He looked up at her and then put his arms around her, burying his face in her waist. She held him for a while like that, and then pushed him away gently.

“Come to bed, Andrew.”

Michelle walked to the bed and began to unbutton her blouse and unzip her skirt. She removed them and laid them over the back of a nearby chair. She looked over at him, but he didn’t move, obviously preferring to watch. She stepped out of her panties and placed them on the chair.  Then she unhooked her bra and took it off, baring firm breasts with dark brown nipples. She draped the lacy bit of lingerie over the neat, white pile of her clothes… and then she stood there facing him, waiting.

He rose and came to her.  “You are so incredibly beautiful.”