KILLER KNOTS
Copyright 2007 by Nancy J. Cohen
CHAPTER ONE
“Are you sure I
won’t get seasick?” Marla Shore asked her fiancé as they
approached the Port of Miami via a bridge over the Intracoastal.
Squinting at the white ships lining the pier like ducks on parade, she
felt a twinge of queasiness in her stomach. Hopefully, her first
Caribbean cruise wouldn’t be her last.
“These big ships
have stabilizers,” Dalton Vail replied, focused on his driving.
“It’ll probably be so smooth, you won’t even notice we’re on the
water.”
The handsome
detective spared her a glance. He wouldn’t admit to being
excited, but she saw the spark in his gray eyes. She looked
forward to sharing this experience with him and his fourteen-year-old
daughter.
From the backseat,
Brianna tapped Marla on the shoulder. “Look, there’s the Tropical
Sun! Can you see it?” The teen had talked about nothing but
their trip for the past few weeks.
“It has their
signature lounge on top,” Marla pointed out, admiring the massive
vessel’s sleek lines. Her attention shifted. “Do you have
enough cash for parking?” she asked Vail as he followed signs to the
garage. “It’s twelve dollars a day.”
“They
take credit cards. Why don’t you and Brie get off here with the
luggage? The cruise terminal is straight ahead. I’ll meet
you at the entrance.” Pulling up to the curb, he helped them
unload before jumping back behind the wheel and zooming away.
Marla grimaced as a
stiff sea breeze blew wisps of her carefully coiffed hair about her
face. Her hairstylist skills would come in handy on this
voyage. Rummaging in her purse, she withdrew a few bills for the
porter who checked their bags.
“Where do we go
now?” Brianna said, confusion muddling her brown eyes. She wore
her toffee hair in a ponytail along with standard teenage garb of jeans
and a camisole top.
“Let’s wait for
your father.”
Charter buses
pulled up to the curb along with yellow taxicabs and a shiny metal
Sysco supply truck. Cops wearing neon green vests directed
traffic that added to the noise level. Seagulls squawked. Engines
idled. Porters shouted. Airplanes roaring overhead made
Marla’s blood pound in her ears.
Who said cruises
were restful vacations? Mingling with three thousand other
passengers doesn’t fit my dream of a tropical getaway.
Diesel fumes warmed
by the summer sun mixed with the aroma of hot dogs from a nearby
vendor. A passenger next to her crunched on a potato chip, his
ample belly filling his shorts and flowered shirt. Oh joy.
Eleven days to gain weight at endless buffets. It’s a good thing
my new salon will offer spa services in addition to the usual hair
treatments. I’ll be their first customer.
She knew Dalton was
looking forward to the meals. He’d pored over the dining room
pictures in the brochure. Same for Brianna, whose growing stage
made her continuously hungry. Marla was more interested in
checking out the shops and lounging by the pool. Forget the
onboard salon. She’d take a peek, but that was one place she
wanted to avoid on her vacation.
As Vail hustled
across the street, she watched him with pride. His broad
shoulders filled the Tommy Bahamas black shirt she’d given him for
Father’s Day. Even with the silver peppering his ebony hair, his
distinguished appearance made female heads turn in appreciation.
She hoped this cruise brought them closer together as a family.
“Let’s go inside,”
he said, taking charge.
At the door, a
uniformed official checked their passports and ushered them into the
terminal. They entered the line for U.S. citizens and shuffled
along like sheep in a herd until they reached the counter. Vail
collected their papers and submitted their passports, cruise tickets,
and credit cards for their on board credit accounts.
“How does my hair
look?” Marla asked, before she grinned in front of a mini camera that
snapped her photo. Just getting to the ship was an ordeal.
She couldn’t wait to get settled.
In the next room, another attendant handed them each
a room key
card which they signed on the back. Brianna’s eyes bulged when
she realized she’d be able to charge her own purchases.
“All right! I
hope I meet kids my age to hang out with on the ship.” Brianna
stuffed the card into her Nine West purse.
“You will, honey,”
Marla said, giving her an indulgent smile. “They have an
excellent teen program. You’ll have your own activities and even
your own newsletter every day.”
“Over here,” Vail
said, directing them to the security detail. Like at the airport,
they had to pass their carry-on bags through an x-ray machine while
they walked through the gates. After they cleared, a guard waved
them toward an up escalator. A long metal walkway open to the
breeze awaited them at the top. Shaded by a blue awning, it led
to the gangway onto the ship itself. But first they had to get
past the pair of photographers who captured a quick picture of
them in front of a Tropical Sun welcome aboard poster.
“I wonder how much
that photo will cost,” Marla remarked. She shivered with excitement as
they crossed a plank over a short expanse of sea. Once on the
ship, they again had to present their key cards. A crew member
swept each card through a machine that brought up their photo ID.
Marla noticed a dispenser of liquid hand sanitizer just beyond.
Great; they’d need it to prevent the norovirus.
“At last,” she
said, once they were free to find their room. She glanced at the
bank of elevators, the wide carpeted stairway, and two long corridors
flanking either side of the ship. “Where is our cabin located,
port or starboard?” she asked Vail, relying on his sense of direction.
“We’re starboard on
deck eight,” he replied. “That’s on the right side of the ship
facing forward. I usually remember because port has four letters
same as left.” He nodded at the crowd waiting in front of the
elevators. “It’ll be a few minutes until the mob clears.”
“We can take the
stairs.” Wondering why he peered around as though expecting
someone, Marla put her foot forward just as she spotted an
auburn-haired woman waving at them. She’d come off the down
elevator, accompanied by a tall man with receding hair, eyeglasses, and
a broad grin.
“Dalton!
Brianna!” The lady descended upon them, spreading her arms wide.
“Grandma,” Brie
responded, rushing into the older woman’s embrace while Marla stared.
Grandma?
Don’t tell me Dalton’s parents are here. Her vision
wavered. She felt as though the floor had opened beneath her, and
she’d dropped into Wonderland. Why did no one else act
surprised? Dumbfounded, she stood there like a statue.
“You think we’d pay
for your cruise and not come along for the ride?” Brianna’s grandmother
said. “Besides, we wanted to meet Marla. At the rate your
father is dragging his feet regarding a wedding date, this may be our
only chance.”
She grasped Marla’s
stiff hand. “We’re delighted to meet you. I’m Kate, and
this is John. Or call us Mom and Dad.”
Vail hugged his
father. “Dad, I figured you’d be looking for us down here.”
Marla stood back,
struggling to comprehend. Dalton had known his folks would be on
the cruise, and he hadn’t said a word? True, Kate and John had
treated them to the vacation. Presumably the elder couple meant
to smooth things over after Vail’s former in-laws created a strain
between them. But if Dalton’s folks were anything like Pam’s
parents, she’d plotz!
Not to
worry. Kate
and John flew in from Maine. They’ll have plenty to do on the
cruise. And she
really
should forgive Justine and Larry, who still mourned Pam’s death.
It wasn’t easy for them to accept Marla as a potential stepmother for
their granddaughter.
Kate linked her arm
with Marla’s. “You’re prettier in person than in your picture,”
Kate said with a warm smile. “I can’t wait to get to know you,
but I’m sure you and Dalton would like to unpack. We’ll take Brie
to our cabin. Her suitcase is already there.”
Vail frowned.
“Huh? Why would it have been sent to your stateroom?”
“I guess you didn’t
notice that her room number is different from yours. She’s
staying with us so you and Marla can have some privacy. I hope
that’s okay with you, sweetheart?”
Brianna’s
expression took on a devilish gleam. “Sure, I have my own key
anyway. As long as you agree that I don’t have a curfew.”
She cast her father a smug grin.
“Now just a
minute,” he began.
Vail’s dad made a
dismissive gesture. “Let it go, son. Brie can’t get lost on
the ship, and she’ll have a better time if she hooks up with some young
people.” He exchanged a knowing look with Marla that made her
like him already.
“We’ll catch up to
you guys later,” Kate told Marla, squeezing her elbow.
Kate was certainly
a touchy-feely person, Marla thought, appreciating how she appeared
totally different from Justine, Pam’s mother. It might not be so
bad having her future in-laws on board after all. Wanting to
accommodate Brianna, she turned her attention to the teen.
“Are you certain
you’re all right with this, honey? You know you’re welcome to
stay with us. We want to spend time with you, and--”
“She’ll be
fine.” Kate wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulder.
“Take your time exploring the ship. We sail at five, then we have
the lifeboat drill before dinner. We’ll meet up with you in the
dining room.”
After trudging up
the stairs, Marla and Vail sought their cabin. Feeling like a
conditioned laboratory rat, she followed the coral carpet down a
brightly lit corridor that seemed to stretch to infinity. Brass
plates displayed room numbers, and when they reached theirs, Marla
noticed an envelope tucked into a seashell decoration by the door.
“Look at this,” she
said, showing Vail the scrawl that addressed the message to Martha
Shore. “Someone must’ve spelled my name wrong.” Sticking it
inside her purse, she unlocked the door to their cabin. “Yikes,
my closet at home is bigger than this place!” Plopping her bags
on the floor, she surveyed their home for the next week. There
was barely enough space for their suitcases, let alone her and
Vail.
A queen-sized bed
stood against the opposite wall where a wide picture window showed a
view of the pier. Other furnishings included a small night stand,
a desk that served as a dresser with drawers, a desk chair, and a small
loveseat facing a television mounted on a ledge.
She noticed Vail
eyeing the TV and said, “If I’m going to lose you to sports games, you can find
me on the pool deck. Hey, look
in here,” she said upon peering
in the bathroom. “If you turn
around when you brush your teeth,
you’ll be taking a shower.”
Vail excused
himself to use the facilities while she examined a pile of papers on
their bed: the Tropical Tattler newsletter, announcements about a
preview art auction, gift shop flyers, and spa treatment
specials. Always on the lookout for bargains, she stuffed them in
her purse to read later and turned to her carry-on bag to remove her
cosmetics.
From the bathroom,
she heard a thump, followed by an explosive whoosh and a loud
curse. The detective emerged looking shaken. “Jeez, if you
sit on that thing when you flush, you risk losing some vital body
parts. They aren’t kidding when they say to close the lid first.”
Marla laughed,
putting her things down on the bed and walking over to kiss him
soundly. “I can see one benefit to this cabin. We’ll have
to snuggle closer.” They spent a few minutes doing just that
until a knock sounded outside the door.
“Hello, my name is
Jovanny,” said their cabin steward, a short young man with a swarthy
complexion. “May I assist you with luggage?” Their
suitcases had arrived, and they stood by while he dragged them
inside. “Your cruise guide will tell you what goes on each day,”
Jovanny said with a flashy grin, while Marla strained to understand
him. He spoke as though he had a wad of cotton in his
mouth. “Today we have lifeboat drill at five-thirty. Life
jackets are in closet. Your station is deck seven, C-4.
Okay, lady and gentleman? If you need anything else, please call
me on telephone.”
As soon as he left,
she returned to unpacking her bag. A loudspeaker blared, making
her jump.
Ding dong, ding
dong.
“Attention all
passengers,” announced a deep male voice from a console on the
desk. “According to SOLAS, International Convention for the
Safety of Life at Sea, we are required to hold a lifeboat drill within
twenty-four hours of sailing. When you hear seven short blasts
and one long blast, this is the signal to proceed to your lifeboat
assembly station. There will be no eating or drinking during this
exercise. This is a mandatory drill even if you have cruised with
us before.”
The man’s voice
droned on, issuing further instructions, but Marla closed him
out. She’d opened the envelope addressed to Martha Shore and
pulled out a piece of paper inside. Narrowing her eyes, she
stared at the typewritten words:
I know what you did
and I have what you want.
Her blood
chilled. Who would send this weird message?
She’d done a few
bad things in her life, but mostly they’d been resolved. No one
on board could possibly know about the erotic pictures she’d posed for
when she was nineteen. That hadn’t been the best moment in her
life, but she’d needed the money to pay for an attorney after Tammy
drowned in a backyard pool. As her babysitter, Marla had been
held accountable by the toddler’s parents. She’d finally put the
tragedy to rest, so why would it rear its ugly head now? Nah,
this had to be a mistake.
“What’s wrong?”
Vail asked, giving her a curious glance. He’d started hanging up
his suit jackets.
“Look at this
note.” She thrust it at him.
Scanning the words,
he scowled. “Gotta be some sort of joke.”
“Or it’s been sent
to the wrong person.” Flushing with guilt, she grabbed the paper
and tossed it into the trash. Nothing would ruin her
vacation. “Forget about it. Let’s explore the ship.
I’d like to make sure Brianna is happy with her arrangements.”
Vail opted for a
snack, so they headed for the Outrigger Café on deck
eleven. Unsure of where to go, Marla suggested they follow the
trail of people holding drink cups. They found the dining room
with several buffet lines, and Vail filled his plate with a juicy
hamburger, French fries, pasta salad and herb roasted chicken, while
Marla allowed herself coffee and fruit.
“How can you eat so
much? It’s nearly time for dinner,” she said, sipping the brew.
“Don’t worry, I’ll
be hungry again,” Vail answered, his mouth full. “How’s the
coffee?”
“Rich and robust,
with no bitter aftertaste. I saw a notice alongside the dispenser
that says the brand is Hair Raiser Coffee. They must have the
concession throughout the ship.”
His eyebrows
lifted. “I hope that isn’t a portent since you do hair for a
living.”
You and me both,
pal. This is one week where I want to lie out and catch the sun,
not help you catch killers. “Maybe I should serve the stuff in my
salon. I’ll look it up on the Internet when I get a chance.”
After bolstering
their energy, they strolled outside to preview the pool, Jacuzzis, and
solarium. Then they went indoors to ride the glass elevator down,
and ended up by Hook’s Champagne Bar on deck five. Marla stared
at the nine-story central atrium in confusion.
“How did we miss
the salon, spa, and fitness center?” she asked. “Weren’t they on
the same deck as the pool?”
“I don’t
know. They could be at the other end. We need to look at a
diagram.” A couple of long blasts on the ship’s horn
sounded. “Forget it, we’re about to cast off. Let’s take
the elevator back up.”
Completely
disoriented, Marla pointed to the carpet on their way aloft.
“It’s a good thing the design tells you what day it is. I could
easily lose track of time here.”
“I wonder if they
change the carpet at midnight.”
“You can stay and
watch. I’ll be too tired tonight.”
As soon as she
stepped outdoors into the afternoon July sun, she felt the vibration
increase and realized the ship had begun moving. Jostling for a
position by the rail, she felt a rush of excitement. She watched
the pier recede before they entered the outlet leading to open
sea.
Strains of “Hot,
Hot, Hot,” played from a steel band by the pool, where a costumed man
on stilts led a line dance. Waiters hawked strawberry piña
coladas as the drink of the day while the ship glided past Parrot
Jungle Island, a fleet of anchored sailboats, cars racing by on the
causeway, and mansions fronting the Intracoastal. A jet ski boat
skipped along the water as the Tropical Sun neared the last strip of
sand.
Marla tilted her
head back, enjoying the fresh air and the warm sun that kissed her
skin. They were embarking on a grand adventure, and her final
view of the shoreline came with the realization that they’d have more
than a week free from phone calls, work hassles, and chores.
Ding dong, ding
dong.
“Good afternoon,
ladies and gentlemen,” boomed a male voice on the public address
system. “This is Captain Rick Larsen speaking to you from the
bridge. Our mandatory assembly drill begins shortly. When
you hear the emergency signal, please proceed to your assembly stations
with your life jackets. Staterooms and public areas will be
checked to ensure that all guests have exited these locations.
Smoking, drinking, eating, and the use of cellular phones is prohibited
during the drill. Thank you for your attention and cooperation.”
“Come on,” Vail
said, signaling. “We have to go below.”
“Let’s take the
stairs. I need to work off all the calories I’m going to
consume.”
She gave a last
glance at the late sun reflecting off the tall buildings of the Miami
skyline. Forced activities might be the only cloud on the
horizon, but she could tolerate even those if they took away the
decision-making process. She’d dreamed of lying on a tropical
beach with no decisions to make except which rum drink to try.
That being her only goal for the cruise, she could be flexible
otherwise.
Then again, she
felt like a sailor at military inspection when they reported to their
lifeboat assembly station. Upon their arrival on deck, a
uniformed officer recorded the cabin number emblazoned on their vest
fronts and directed them to join a group of passengers lined up in
jagged rows. Squashed between an overweight fellow who sweated
profusely and a mother of two whose younger child wailed at loud
decibels, she struggled to fasten her life vest. The bulky jacket
forced her neck up at an uncomfortable angle.
Vail cursed beside
her. He’d gotten himself tangled in the straps and flailed
helplessly while attempting to snag the buckle. Knocking into a
muscular guy in the row behind, he mumbled an apology. The fellow
must have been easily over six feet tall. He wore a bandanna and
tattoos like a biker dude.
“No problem,
buddy,” the tattooed man said with a
grin.
“You have
it on backwards,” Marla said to Vail. She bit her lip to suppress
a smile. It wasn’t often that she saw her fiancé at a
disadvantage, and when she did, she just wanted to take care of
him. She assisted him in putting the vest on correctly.
A female staff member wearing all
white--blouse, skirt, shoes, and visored cap--glared at her
charges. “Listen up, people.” Everyone snapped to attention
while she strode back and forth. “Make sure those straps are
tight. Otherwise, if we have to pull you out of the water fast,
we’ll yank on the vest and you’ll be left behind to sink like a
stone. Come on, squeeze closer. This is how crowded it gets
in the boat.” She pointed to the vessel suspended overhead.
“Do we get to sit
in the lifeboat?” hollered one passenger.
“Sit, stand, or
lie, you’ll be crammed in there. Oh, and another thing, if you
have to jump overboard, cross your arms in front like this.
Otherwise, the jacket may hit your head upon impact.”
“Oh joy.
Something else to worry about,” Marla murmured.
“Your automated
light will flash when you enter the water,” the officer
continued. “It serves as a beacon. You can use the whistle
to draw attention to yourself. Now, are there any questions?”
At her side, Vail
blew the whistle attached to his vest.
“Nice move,” Marla
crooned, “especially when you don’t know whose mouth it touched
last.” She shifted her feet as she heard the familiar ding dong,
ding dong from the loudspeaker.
“May I have your
attention, please?” said a disembodied voice. “The general
emergency signal that began the drill consists of seven short blasts
followed by one long blast through the ship’s whistle and internal
alarm system. If you are in your stateroom when you hear this
signal, grab some warm clothing, gather any medications you may require
along with your life jacket, and proceed to your muster station.
If you are not in your stateroom, go directly to your station, where in
a real emergency, a life jacket will be issued to you. Do not use
the elevators, as they will not work in a power failure. Lighting
along the floors and stairways will show the route to the assembly
stations.”
Marla tuned him
out, preferring not to dwell on the unpleasant possibilities.
Instead, she contemplated how many times during the day these
announcements would disrupt them.
Sweat dribbled between her breasts while she
listened to the speaker repeat his message in several languages.
“How long is this going to last?” she groused. “I’m dying from
the heat.”
Vail regarded her
from under his thick brows. “You’ll build up a good appetite for
dinner. I wonder where Brianna and my folks are. You don’t
see them, do you?” He stood on his toes to peer over the heads of
taller figures.
Marla’s gaze caught
on a handsome older man who murmured something into his companion’s
ear. The woman, a blonde who looked about half his age, shrugged
away. Not that it was any of her business, but she wondered if
that was his wife or his daughter. She caught another person
staring at the couple, a fellow with tousled dark hair, a shifty
expression, and a camera with which he shot a quick photo of their
profiles.
You’re imagining
things, she told herself. He’s probably just snapping a picture
of the lifeboat beyond. People are here to have fun, and so are
you.
As soon as the
ship’s horn blasted the all clear signal, she unstrapped her vest and
yanked it over her head, mussing her hair. Jostled by other
sweaty bodies, she proceeded indoors and followed the mob down the
staircase to deck eight.
With a sigh of
relief, she opened the door to their cabin and bounded inside to
air-cooled comfort. “Man, is that thing bulky,” she said to Vail,
as they tossed their life jackets onto the bed. “We’ll let the
cabin steward put them away.”
“I need a shower,
but it’s time for dinner already,” Vail replied, raking a hand
through his hair. He gave her a rueful glance, as though he would
have liked to linger.
Hustling to the
dining room, Marla despaired of having a minute free. She could
end up being busier on this trip than in her salon at home. At
least you don’t have to cook or wait on customers, she thought
gleefully as they were ushered to their table by the restaurant
manager. Elegant white linens, vases with fresh orchids, subdued
jazz music, and scores of uniformed waiters soothed her nerves as she
took a seat.
“Typical of Brianna
to be late,” Vail said in an indulgent tone. He grabbed a bread
stick from a basket on the table.
“You’re just eager
to stuff yourself. We’re the first ones here.” Marla nodded
at the other empty chairs. “I’m glad we have a table for ten, so
we’ll meet new people. Do you suppose the waiter will wait to
take our orders until everyone arrives?” She glanced around the
room, decorated with crystal chandeliers and floor to ceiling
windows. “Some passengers may choose to eat in the café
upstairs.”
“Who knows?
Can you pass the butter, please?”
As Marla complied,
some of their other table companions appeared. She was startled
to recognize the older couple from the lifeboat drill. Even
though the newsletter indicated this evening’s dress code was casual,
they’d changed into fancier outfits than they’d worn on deck.
“I’m Oliver
Smernoff, and this is my wife Irene,” the man said in a baritone
voice. He wore a black suit that contrasted sharply to his
graying temples. Most of his hair on top had receded, leaving him
partly bald, but his even features and tall stature made him attractive
for a man in his fifties. His wife wasn’t as young as she’d
seemed at a distance, judging from her hands more than her face.
The veins stood out on her overly tanned skin, making Marla rub her own
hands and wish for lotion.
Irene attempted to
smile, but her Botox-frozen facial muscles turned it into a
grimace. She wore an elegant blue sheath dress and a necklace
that shimmered with diamonds.
The newest
arrivals, on the other hand, boasted a distinct age difference.
“Thurston Stark at your service, and this is my wife, Heidi,” the man
boomed to Marla and Vail. He was a big guy with a confident
smile, hazel eyes, and wheat brown hair. With his broad
shoulders, he might have been a football player in his earlier
days. Heidi looked about thirty years younger, a typical blonde
trophy wife with a vapid expression. She wore a black dress so
revealing that if the ship rocked, her boobs risked tumbling out.
While Thurston and
Oliver exchanged hearty greetings, their wives acknowledged each other
with tepid nods. It appeared they already knew one another.
Before Marla could inquire as to the nature of their acquaintance, more
of their table mates arrived.
“We’re out of seats,”
Marla noted to Vail in an undertone. “What happened to Brie and
your parents?”
“You’re
right.” Half-rising, he scanned the dining room. “I don’t
see them anywhere.”
Marla twisted her
neck to search for their familiar faces. “They must be sitting at
a different table. Great, and I figured nothing could go wrong
this week. Why am I always so lucky?”
Vail
chuckled. “The way you’re a magnet for trouble, sweetcakes, we’ll
be lucky to get off this ship alive.”