Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 03 - Secrets at Sea (12 page)

“Any other emails?”

“You’re thinking I might have gotten another email from the person who sent me the photo of my mom, Betsy and Adam? I asked.

“Well, maybe they sent you another with a little more explanation. We’re searching in the dark at the moment.”

“I can check.” I scrolled down the list of new emails. Two from Julie, a retired friend who loves cruising. She was always trying to get me to go with her. One from Jordan. I opened it. It was short.

Hi Liza,

Took an early flight this morning to Texas and filled the vases on Mom and Dad’s gravesite.

I miss them.

Jordan.

My eyes welled with tears. I missed them too.

I felt Tom’s hand on my shoulder, he squeezed it. He knew how I felt, even though he’d lost his parents over twenty years ago. You never get over the loss of your parents or the feeling of being an orphan and alone.

There was one more email. It had today’s date.

“I don’t recognize this one,” I told Tom.

“Open it. Maybe it’s filled with all the pieces we’re missing.”

I opened it.

It was short too.

My stomach dropped.

Bobby,

Stop searching, enjoy the cruise, and go home.

“That’s not even for you,” Tom said, “Someone must have gotten the wrong email address.”

I didn’t say anything. Was it possible? How was it possible? Who else would know? I started to see those stars again.

“What’s the matter, Liza?”

“It is for me.”

“That’s not your name. Who calls you Bobby?”

“My dad.”

Chapter 14

I kept trying to breathe, I gasped for air. Tom knelt and put his hand on my leg. “Easy, Liza. What’s Justin’s email address?”

“Its Justin22…,no.” I shook my head between breaths, and then sputtered, “He changed it. It’s sidekick007.”

Tom frowned. “I’ve got to talk to that boy.”

He clicked on the forward button and typed: get the source of this. Tom

Justin Instant Messaged him right back.

Isn’t that what her dad called her?

Tom typed: Yes, get the source.

By any means?

Yes!

Tom helped me stand.

“It can’t be.” I looked at him between the stars I saw. “How could it be?”

“Hang on, Liza.” Tom lifted me from the seat and rushed me out of the Internet Café.

He dragged me through a door labeled, “Library”. It was empty. He set me down in the nearest chair.

“Look at me, Liza,” Tom said, pulling my face toward him. “Close your eyes, concentrate on taking slow and deep breaths.”

I did as he said and slowly my breathing evened out. I opened my eyes. “Could my dad still be alive?”

“I don’t know, but how many people knew he called you Bobby?”

I shrugged.

“Justin knew.”

“Sure, he would. He was always over at my house. My dad played soccer with him.”

“Who else?” Tom prodded.

“Jordan and anyone who was ever around my family or went to a family gathering.” I started to feel better. “Lots of people, actually.”

“Right, including the people your parents knew on this ship?”

“Yes, I’m sure they would have known if they ever had a conversation with my dad and I came up. He never called me Elizabeth or Liza. It was always Bobby.”

“Okay, then. Just because you got an email addressed to Bobby doesn’t mean it’s from your dad.”

“But could it be?” I asked.

Tom shook his head. “I don’t know. Not really.”

“If he’s alive, why hasn’t he tried to contact me in the last four years? Could my mom still be alive too?”

Tom didn’t answer, but I didn’t really expect him to, I was just talking out loud. But was it really possible I wasn’t an orphan? A glimmer of hope began to form in the hole in my heart left by the deaths of my parents.

“Let’s get back to the room and read these emails,” Tom said.

“My stomach is empty and growling. Can we get something to eat first?”

“Now, I know you’re fine. Sure, let’s see.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s five-thirty. Do you have the tear off sheet from the brochure that tells us what’s going on and where?”

“No, I didn’t bring it with me.”

“The purser’s desk is just a quick ride down on the elevator, let’s get one and see what’s available.”

Tom picked up the printouts and we left the library, took the glass elevator down to the second deck, and got another Cruiser Notes brochure.

Tom flipped to the food section and his eyes lit up. “What about sushi? It will make a great snack before dinner.”

“As long as they have something similar to California Rolls, that’s fine.” It was the only sushi I could eat without thinking about the little fish in my tank at school.

We found the sushi bar. Tom was excited because it was right next to a coffee counter. I don’t drink coffee, so it wasn’t a big deal to me until I found out they also had banana splits. Now, that was worth getting excited over.

Tom took four different kinds of sushi. I got the one that looked like California Rolls. It wasn’t exactly what I was used to, but I was too hungry to say no.

We sat right outside a bar called Celestial Nights. It was decorated in planets. Teenagers in the room were singing karaoke. The music was loud and I didn’t recognize the songs.

Tom kept glancing into the room.

“Have you ever heard those songs?” I asked.

“Sure, Michael loves alternative music.”

“Alternative to what, decent music?”

He laughed. “I keep telling you, honey, you need to come into the twenty-first century.”

“If it means listening to that music, maybe I don’t want to.”

He stuffed another strange looking piece of fish into his mouth. If it starts to move, I’m leaving, I thought.

“How is Michael?”

“He’s doing great.” Tom smiled. “I think he’s going to spend a couple of weeks in August with me.”

“You think?”

Tom frowned. “Well, you know Pamela. I make the plans, she find a reason I need to change them. I make new plans and, lo and behold, they don’t work either.”

“Maybe you should go to court and get it all down in writing?”

“Probably. When we divorced we agreed we’d share custody. He’d spend every other holiday with me and a month in the summer. That hasn’t happened but I do talk to him every week.”

“And when was the last time you actually saw him?”

“I flew up to Seattle in June and had a weekend with him.

“You definitely need to get something in writing, Tom. Because without it, she’s got the kid so she’s got all the power.”

Tom nodded and ate a piece of sushi that had little tentacles sticking out. I turned my head and listened to the karaoke alternative music.

I hadn’t met Michael yet. Who would have thought I’d be involved with a divorced man with a seven-year-old child? Life certainly takes you places where you never envisioned yourself.

Tom held up the sheets we printed. “You want to look at these here?”

“No, let’s go back to our room.”

He grinned. “Had enough music?”

“Yes.” I stood.

“Think you can find your way back without my help?” Tom asked.

“No.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

When we got back to the room, Tom handed me the sheets Justin had sent. “I’ll start with the two police reports from Ramirez.”

I nodded and started reading.

“Here’s what I found, Teach.

Adam Sherman lived in Phoenix, Arizona and worked for a small law firm: Sherman, Taylor, and Dunn. According to their website, Adam graduated in 1970 from Brooklyn Law School in New York and became a partner in 1978. I went through the alumni search of the law school and found an Adam Sherman, but I don’t think it’s your Adam Sherman because I found a death certificate for the one who graduated from Brooklyn Law School. He was killed in an auto accident in 1971, just a year after he graduated. He really was a nobody – no family and only a few friends. The only write-up I could find on the accident and death was small and shoved on the newspaper’s last page.

Your Adam Sherman kept a very low profile for a lawyer. He didn’t take any court cases, just did research and wrote briefs for the firm. I couldn’t find any pictures of him on the law firm’s website or in the local papers for any social functions. I did find his and Betsy’s marriage certificate. They were married in Reno on July 20, 2004.

Now, Betsy Ruiz was a computer contractor with Copraspeed. They specialize in hotel software and their main office is in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her job was to travel to all their clients, oversee the program’s installation, and periodically go back and make sure everything is going smoothly. She was well respected in the computer field, considered good at her job and a valued employee, according to their website. She’s got a huge photo on the company’s website and is on several charity boards. Unlike Adam, her picture has appeared in several newspapers and magazines. Betsy’s parents live in Tulsa, along with her three brothers, two sisters, and their families.

The dead woman at Nordic Inn was Inga Pardee. She has a police record for prostitution in San Francisco, Dallas, and Seattle, but nothing for the last five years. Her address on the police report is listed as Portland, Oregon, but I couldn’t find any real evidence that she lived there, no bank account or credit cards with charges from there. Also, no one ever claimed her body.

I did find an Inga Pardee who lived in Phoenix, Arizona. She worked as a clerk in a Starbucks a few blocks from Adam Sherman’s law firm and hasn’t shown up for work since she left on a vacation to California on July 20, 2004.

If I find anything else, I’ll let you know.

Super Sidekick away!

I set the papers down.

“Anything in your sheets?” I asked Tom.

“Not really. They haven’t found anything new about Betsy’s murder and the dead woman four years ago remains an unsolved case.”

I told him what Justin had found on Adam, Betsy, and Inga.

Tom frowned. “The police report doesn’t say anything about the possibility of Inga living in Phoenix.”

“Maybe you guys should hire Justin?”

“No,” Tom shook his head, “then I’d probably have to arrest him for hacking.”

“It’s interesting that Inga was really from Phoenix and Adam was out getting a towel when she was killed.”

“Yes, but what I find more fascinating is that Adam Sherman wasn’t the Adam Sherman from Brooklyn Law School, even though he said he was and so did his law firm.”

“Could he have been in a witness protection program?” I asked.

“I doubt it. I don’t think they usually use dead people’s names and occupations. But I’ll give Ramirez a call and have him check into it and tell him about Inga’s connection to Phoenix.” Tom glanced at his watch. “It’s six-thirty, I think I’ll go and exercise. Do you want to join me?”

“Sure.” I shrugged.

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Why not? I brought along a few books to read, I’ll ride the bike and read.”

“Great.” Tom stood. “Let me change into some exercise clothes.”

I looked at my skirt. “Maybe I’ll skip it tonight. I don’t really want to get changed and exercise. Then I’ll have to take a shower and get dressed again.” I saw Tom frown, so I continued, “Tomorrow let’s eat sushi, exercise, and then get ready for dinner.”

“Okay.” Tom nodded. “Are you going to stay in the room?”

“No, I think I’ll wander down to the shops. They opened at six.”

He handed me the map of the ship. “If you get lost, pick up a phone and call the gym. I’ll come and find you.”

I took the map and smiled. “Thanks.”

Tom changed and we left the room. At the elevator, he went up to the gym and I went down to the shops. He was right about my sense of direction. If my instincts told me to go right, I should automatically go left, but I never do and I usually end up lost. Twice I had to change directions to get to the shops, but I eventually found them. There were two, one on each side of the hallway, and with quite a collection of items, from drugstore necessities to alcohol, from casual clothes and costume jewelry to formalwear and real diamonds.

I stopped and looked at the formalwear. Tom would look so nice in his tux, and the dresses I brought were old. An effervescent black dress caught my eye. It was long and slinky. The top had narrow straps, but not the spaghetti straps that require a special bra, and the low-flowing neckline would
lay
right at the top of my breasts. The price tag said $125.00. I chuckled. It was quite out of my price range, especially for a dress I’d wear just once. But it was still lovely, so I tried it on. It fit in all the right places, but I just couldn’t justify spending all that money on just one dress.

I wandered through the store, checking out the jewelry and great watch selection, but didn’t buy anything. The casino was open, so I stopped and put a few dollars in a Wheel of Fortune machine. It was fun and I enjoyed playing even though I lost all of my five dollars.

But my nightly gambling allowance was gone, so I stood to leave. That’s when I sensed someone standing right behind me, so close that I felt his breath on my neck. I started to turn, but the person grabbed my shoulders and held me tight.

Was this the person who’d sent the note? Who threatened my life? Or could it be my dad?