Cruel Capers on the Caribbean: A Kate on Vacation Mystery (The Kate on Vacation mysteries) (4 page)

“And I hate to think how many mouths this lady is feeding off the proceeds from this store,” Kate whispered back.

The stores and restaurants on the waterfront were in good condition, brightly painted inside and out, but on the bus ride to and from the ruins, they had seen how all too many Mexicans lived. Hand-to-mouth didn’t begin to describe it.

Back at the boat, Kate trudged up the ramp on tired legs. This time when she and Skip went to their cabin for an afternoon nap, they actually slept.

~~~~~~~~

K
ate awoke in the king-sized bed to discover she was alone. She heard the shower running in the tiny bathroom. She yawned and stretched, then glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

In an instant she was on her feet and rummaging through drawers. She had less than forty-five minutes to get ready for the formal dinner this evening.

Forty minutes later, she was showered and her make-up was done. In the small cabin, Skip was trying hard to keep out of her way as she flitted back and forth in her slip, first retrieving her shoes from the closet, then her jewelry from the safe inside a cabinet. “Why don’t you go on down?” she suggested to him. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

Skip nodded and headed out the door.

As she left their cabin ten minutes later, Kate decided to check on Cora. She knocked twice on her door. There was no response.

She must’ve already gone down to dinner.

T
he maitre d’ escorted Kate across the main dining room. Four other people, a thirty-something couple and a mother and daughter, were already seated at the large round table along with Skip and the Franklins. Kate noted that two people were missing–the young couple who’d told them the previous evening how they’d scraped and saved to afford this cruise.

Poor kids probably don’t own anything dressy.

Rob’s was the only tuxedo at the table. The rest of the men wore suits. Liz’s emerald green silk sheath matched her eyes. Her hair was mostly gray under the strawberry blonde dye, but she, unlike her husband, was winning the battle against middle-aged spread.

Skip’s tan, Western-style suit was accented with a dark bolo tie. Kate’s ice-blue dress had a flared skirt and a low scoop neck. It was a bit more daring than her usual attire. The single diamond on its silver chain and those in her ears–gifts from Skip at various times during their relationship–sparkled in the soft lighting.

Skip stood up to hold out her chair. As she stepped in front of him, he brushed aside her curls and whispered in her ear, “You look scrumptious. I know what I’m having for dessert.”

“Behave,” she whispered back, as a pink tinge crept up her neck to her cheeks.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind them. “Have you seen Cora today?”

They turned around.

Clem was wearing a stylish black suit, his white silk shirt open at the neck. But from that point up, he didn’t look so hot. His last attempt at shaving had been less than successful. Black stubble dotted his chin. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his skin tone had gone from artsy pallor to a sickly gray. Some of his hair had come loose from its ponytail. It hung limply along his cheek.

Surprised, Kate said, “She hasn’t come down for dinner yet?”

Clem shook his head, his loose hair swinging. He shoved it back behind his ear.

“She’s caught a cold,” Kate said. “I checked on her this morning and she seemed better, but maybe she’s still not up to dealing with all this.” She waved her hand around the dining room.

His worried face relaxed a little. “Her immune system isn’t all that great. She tends to get sick easy.” He shuffled his feet. “Well, you folks enjoy your dinner.” He turned and walked away.

Skip and Kate sat down just as their exuberant waiter arrived to greet the group. He and the assistant waiter took drink orders, then scurried off to fill them.

“I wish those two were a little less eager to please,” Liz muttered, once they were out of earshot.

“They’re hoping for a big tip at the end of the cruise,” Kate said. She too was a little uncomfortable with their subservient attitude. She’d noted that most of the cabin stewards, cleaning people and wait staff were from developing countries, while most of the officers were lily-white and from industrialized nations. She suspected the service people weren’t paid all that well, and depended on the guests’ tips to support themselves, and most likely their extended families back in their home countries.

Kate didn’t think of herself as wealthy, even though she and Skip both made decent incomes and she had a sizeable brokerage account of investments, thanks to her first husband’s life insurance. By American standards they were middle class–well maybe upper-middle class based on assets alone–but they had both come from working-class roots. She wasn’t used to playing the role of the well-to-do tourist, waited on hand and foot by people from countries where what she spent on Starbucks coffee and lunches in a week would feed their families for a month.

Skip picked up the thread of the conversation, or perhaps he read her thoughts as he had a disconcerting habit of doing. “They’re probably real glad to have their jobs, and to be able to send money home.”

The captain approached their table, his expression serious. After greeting them and inquiring about their comfort, he tilted his head toward the two empty chairs. “Have you seen Mr. and Mrs. Dayton this afternoon or evening?”

The others were shaking their heads but Rob spoke up. “I noticed them in one of the bars on shore as we were coming back to the ship. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.”

The captain looked marginally relieved.

“Was that who you all were calling for on the intercom this afternoon?” Liz asked.

Kate put two and two together. “They missed the boat, didn’t they?”

The captain nodded. “Hopefully they will be able to get a flight to New Orleans, our next port of call, and rejoin us there. Enjoy your evening, ladies and gentlemen.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

Kate felt sorry for the young couple. She doubted they had the resources to do that, but they would have to get out of Mexico one way or another.

“Why’d he look so grim?” Liz asked. “This probably happens a lot. People get to partying on shore and lose track of time.”

“9/11,” Rob said. “Ever since then, they probably worry that there’s a bomb in the people’s luggage.”

“But someone said they x-ray our bags when they’re brought on board,” Kate said. “That’s why we can’t bring them on ourselves.” And they were subjected to airport-level security every time they came back onboard.

“There are some explosives that are hard to detect,” Rob said.

Liz grimaced. “Now that’s a happy thought to start the evening.”

Kate surreptitiously studied the mother and daughter combo across the table from her. The younger woman looked to be about twenty or so and was quite lovely. She didn’t look all that much like her mother. Of course, she might take after her father, or perhaps she was adopted. Kate wondered why she was traveling with her mother. Couldn’t be all that exciting.

Stop that!
she scolded her inquisitive psychologist’s mind.
We’re on vacation here!

Liz leaned past Rob to tap Kate’s shoulder. “Where’s your new shawl?” she whispered.

“Darn, I forgot it.” It was rather chilly in the dining room. “Let me run back to the cabin and get it.”

On Deck 10, Kate was slipping her card key into the cabin door lock when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She glanced down the hall. Cora’s cabin steward–Jorge, was that his name?–was stooping down outside her door to pick up a room service tray.

Kate started to call after him to ask how Cora was doing but he rose quickly and headed away from her down the hall. After retrieving her shawl, she debated about knocking on Cora’s door. She decided to wait until after dinner. Her soup had probably been delivered by now and was getting cold.

~~~~~~~~

K
ate was feeling rather tipsy at ten o’clock when they headed back to their cabin. She was having trouble walking a straight line and couldn’t figure out if she was really that drunk or if the ship was rolling a bit. She’d lost track of the glasses of wine, something she almost never did. She looked down at the plastic cup in her hand–provided by the bartender at the lounge they had gone to after dinner. She suspected it was her fourth. No wonder she had a buzz going.

They’d lingered awhile in the lounge after the Franklins had gone off to bed, relishing the freedom from demanding little people. Then they’d decided to take a nightcap back to their cabin.

Skip unlocked the door. Kate handed him her cup. “I want to check on Cora.”

“It’s kinda late.”

“I’ll knock softly. If she’s asleep, it shouldn’t wake her.”

Skip nodded as he took her cup of wine and went into their cabin.

Kate walked down the hallway, staggering a little as the world tilted.

Okay, that
was
the boat!

She tapped a knuckle lightly against Cora’s door. After a minute, she knocked softly again. She was about to turn away, when she glanced down. Cora’s dinner tray sat beside the doorjamb.

Kate debated about knocking louder. She looked again at the tray. The dishes were dirty but not a scrap of food remained on them. Her stomach clenched. Alarm bells were going off in her head, but her brain was too fuzzy to figure out why at first.

She knocked hard on the door and called out Cora’s name. The cabin walls were sound-proofed but the doors weren’t. She’d heard people conversing in the hall outside her own door.

She rattled the knob and called out louder, “Cora! Cora, are you okay?”

A door down the corridor opened. Kate turned to apologize for disturbing someone. It was Rob, in his bathrobe. He stepped out into the hall. “I thought that was your voice.”

“Get Skip. I think something’s wrong with Cora.”

Rob opened his mouth, then clamped it shut and turned toward Kate’s cabin.

A minute later, Skip and Rob joined her at Cora’s door. Kate pointed down to the tray. “Cora doesn’t eat much when she’s feeling fine. I doubt she’d clean her plate now, unless she figured it didn’t matter anymore whether she gained weight.”

The men gave her confused looks.

“She’s not answering.” Still confusion on their tired faces. “I think she might have done something to herself.”

Skip nudged Kate aside. He put his shoulder to the door. It didn’t budge.

Kate spotted the cabin steward coming their way. “Jorge, can you open Ms. Beall’s door for us? We think she may be in trouble in there.”

The wiry little man stopped, then took a step backward. “I cannot disturb Miss Cora Beall.”

Skip scowled at him. “It’ll disturb her a lot more if I kick the door in.”

Jorge hesitated for another beat, then took out his master key card and inserted it in the door’s lock.

The door caught on something. A screeching noise blasted out into the hallway. Jorge jumped back. He grabbed the knob to pull the door closed again.

Skip moved him aside and pushed on the door. Nothing happened except renewed screeching. He put his shoulder into it.

“Stop! You get me fired.”

Shouting to make herself heard over the racket, Kate tried to reassure the cabin steward. “It’ll be ok–” The sound of the door crashing open drowned out her words.

She tried to rush in, but Skip held an arm out in front of her. He took two steps forward and quickly scanned the room, then gave her a small nod.

She and Rob stepped into the cabin. Jorge stayed in the hall, wringing his hands.

Skip leaned down and wrestled a wedge-like object out from under the door. The screeching stopped.

The curtain separating the sleeping area from the rest of the suite was pulled closed. With trepidation, Kate crossed the living room and pushed it aside. Cora lay on her bed, eyes closed, honey blonde hair fanned out around her slack face.

Kate stared at the sheet pulled up to the woman’s neck. It wasn’t moving.

Skip stepped past her. He put two fingertips against Cora’s neck, shifted them around a couple times, then shook his head.

“I get doctor,” Jorge said from the doorway and took off running.

Skip shook his head again as he moved back out into the living room area. “It’s too late for a doctor.” He picked up the receiver of the phone on the desk.

Kate choked back a sob. Rob put his arm around her shoulders. She turned her face into his chest.

“Please send the captain and ship’s doctor to cabin 1030,” Skip said into the phone. “There’s been a death.”

K
ate and Skip stood to one side of the room with the captain, as the ship’s doctor confirmed Skip’s assessment that the lady was indeed dead. Rob was standing by the open doorway. Jorge was once again wringing his hands in the corridor.

“Stand aside please. I’m a doctor,” a male voice said from behind Rob.

He stepped further into the room and the man with the silver hair maneuvered past him.

Dr. Hudson moved quickly to the opposite side of the bed from the ship’s doctor. He leaned down and raised one of Cora’s eyelids, then grabbed her wrist to feel for a nonexistent pulse.

“Please don’t disturb the body, sir,” the ship’s doctor said.

“How do you know she’s dead if you don’t examine her?” Hudson replied curtly.

“I already
have
examined her, sir. Now please step back.”

Hudson had turned Cora’s arm over as he’d attempted to find a pulse. He pointed to a puncture mark on the inside of her elbow. “Her pupils are dilated. I’m guessing an overdose.”

Kate’s chest ached. Tears sprang to her eyes.

“You friends of hers?” Hudson asked. “Has she been depressed lately?”

Kate nodded mutely, unable to trust her voice.

Skip cleared his throat. “She’s been having relationship problems.”

“Where is that young man of hers? I saw them arguing earlier.” Hudson looked around the suite.

The ship’s doctor had a pained expression on his face.