Cruel Capers on the Caribbean: A Kate on Vacation Mystery (The Kate on Vacation mysteries) (6 page)

“Why would you assume that?” Liz asked, her tone a bit caustic. “We certainly don’t have family there. No doubt people come from all over the country for cruises leaving from the Tampa terminal.”

“And how are you preserving the body?” Kate asked.

Color rose in Dr. Madigan’s cheeks. He flashed Liz an apologetic look, silently acknowledging the lameness of that explanation. To Kate, he said, “We have a small morgue. We do have deaths aboard occasionally, unfortunately.”

“Will the Tampa authorities be able to autopsy the body after several days?” she asked.

The doctor, who’d remained standing despite their invitation to pull up a chair, now leaned forward and quietly said, “Please don’t tell anyone this, but I took some blood samples. I can preserve them more readily than I can the entire body. I’ll see they get to the proper authorities in Tampa so they can be tested for drugs.”

Something the doctor had said was gnawing at Kate. “You haven’t asked Clem Johnson about next of kin? You haven’t notified her family?”

The doctor colored again. “Uh, we thought it best not to disturb the man while he’s grieving for his lady friend.” Madigan glanced to his right, then stood up straight and sketched them a small salute. “Enjoy the view, ladies, gentlemen.” He strode away from them.

“They have to have an emergency contact,” Skip said. “They asked us for one when we checked in online.”

“Us too,” Rob said.

Liz snorted. “‘Please, don’t tell anyone this.’ Translation: please don’t tell the captain. And speak of the devil.”

Kate swiveled her head around. The captain was headed their way.

“Good evening, folks,” he greeted them. “I hope you had an enjoyable day in New Orleans.”

Skip’s expression was wary. “It was good.”

The captain lowered his voice. “I just wanted to let you know that your friend’s demise is being handled with sensitivity and discretion. I am very sorry for your loss. And let me convey the condolences of Carousel Cruises and our entire staff and crew.”

Kate opened her mouth but Skip put a restraining hand on her arm. “Thank you, Captain,” he said.

“I do have some good news. The weather has cleared at the Caymans, so we will be arriving there day after tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, he too sketched a salute and took off at a brisk pace.

Liz snorted again. “How does jumping to conclusions and sweeping it under the rug somehow become ‘sensitivity and discretion’? And how can they get away with not notifying next of kin?”

“My guess is the captain’s bent on not letting anything disrupt the cruise,” Skip said. “If the New Orleans authorities had held the ship to investigate, the cruise line would have a bunch of angry passengers to deal with.”

“It might also have something to do with the ship having to come up the Mississippi to New Orleans,” Rob said. “We are most definitely
in
the U.S. right now, not just docked at a U.S. harbor in the Gulf.”

Kate was chewing on her lower lip. While she’d been enjoying the view of the Mississippi shoreline rolling by, part of her mind had been mulling over what would be best for Cora’s daughter at this point.

“Guys, there’s some stuff that doesn’t add up here. And I’m afraid Cora’s death isn’t going to be investigated much at all. If the Tampa police lab does find drugs in the blood samples, they’re going to assume she took them voluntarily and either accidentally or intentionally overdosed. I know we’re on vacation, but if Cora’s daughter is left believing her mother committed suicide... Well, that will be a lot more traumatic even than knowing she was murdered. Would you mind if we had a brainstorming session, to see if we can get the pieces of this puzzle to fit together better?”

Rob looked at his watch. “Okay by me. We’ve got some time before we have to get ready for dinner.”

Kate glanced at Skip. His expression was neutral but he gave a slight nod.

~~~~~~~~

T
hey headed back to the Franklins’ cabin and settled in there, Kate and Skip on the loveseat, Liz at the desk and Rob sitting on their bed.

Kate pulled out her list. “I jotted down some things.”

Skip rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Ignoring him, she read, “Number one, Cora and Clem have a big fight over his druggie friends. Two, Cora was planning to invite him to go dancing with us so there was a good chance they would’ve gotten back together. Three, Clem made a big deal about paying his own way for the cruise, to show Cora he wasn’t after her money.”

“Which could’ve been just that, a show,” Rob said.

“True.” Kate put a question mark next to number three on her list. “Four, Cora was depressed, and had caught a cold... But when I checked on her yesterday morning, she was feeling better and was going to invite Clem to go out with us after dinner. Which apparently she did via voicemail message, according to Clem.”

“So one thing we need to do,” Skip said, “is find out if that voicemail message is still on Clem’s phone.”

Kate flashed him a smile. “This is why you’re a big-name detective.” She turned her list over and wrote
Questions
and
Check Clem’s voicemail
on the back.

Skip tipped an imaginary Stetson at her. “Don’t know ’bout big-name, ma’am,” he drawled, laying on the Texas accent. “But I do know a thing or two ’bout detectin’.” The word
thing
came out as
thang
.

They exchanged a grin, then Kate’s mood sobered. She read off the rest of her list. “Number five, soon-to-be-ex husband is suing for alimony, so he’s after Cora’s money. Six, Cora hates drugs because brother OD’d. Seven, Clem believes she wouldn’t commit suicide, that she wouldn’t do to her daughter what her mother did to her.”

Liz had turned to the desk behind her and was tapping on her tablet screen.

“Back to the events of yesterday,” Skip said. “Give me a sheet of paper, would you?” He pointed to the pad on Liz’s desk. She tore off a couple sheets for him.

He took a pen from his shirt pocket and started making a timeline. “You talked to Cora about seven-forty-five in the morning. Somewhere during the day she made good on her plan to call Clem, according to him. Put
find out time of Cora’s call
on your to-do list, darlin’. Then Clem comes to our table about six-ten saying he’s worried about her, because she never called him back and didn’t show up for dinner. We get back here around ten and you go to check on her and see the tray. We grab the steward and go in and find her. I wonder if Madigan has any way of telling time of death?”

Something was nagging at the edge of Kate’s brain. She tried to capture it as she wrote
Dr–time of death?
on the questions list.

She held up her hand in a stop gesture. “Wait, the tray shouldn’t have been there. I saw Jorge picking it up when I came back to the room to get my shawl.”

“And yet it was there much later,” Skip said. “Did you actually see him carry it away?”

“No, I caught a glimpse of him, in my peripheral vision, stooping over the tray. Then he was walking away from me, down the hall. Maybe the one he picked up was her lunch tray and the later one was dinner.”

“Maybe, but the staff’s normally more efficient than that,” Rob said. “They don’t usually leave unsightly things lying around for hours.”

Skip pointed to Kate’s list. “Big question for Jorge. What the hell was going on with the trays?” She wrote it down. “Back to my timeline. We find Cora. Jorge takes off to get the doctor. I call for the captain. They both arrive–”

“Then that jackass Hudson shows up,” Kate said.

“Yeah, where the hell did he come from?” Rob asked.

“Skip,
you
asked them to send the captain
and
the ship’s doctor,” Kate said.

“So maybe Hudson was the doctor Jorge went to find,” Rob said.

“Maybe,” Skip said. “Or he just wanted out of there. Some people are afraid of corpses. Maybe there’s some belief about them in his culture.”

“And he happened to run into Hudson?” Rob asked.

Kate’s mind was scrambling after another fleeting thought. She captured it. “Jorge would probably know him. The day we boarded I overheard Hudson arguing with an officer about his cabin. He said something about he and his wife having been on this cruise several times before.”

“Wait a minute,” Rob said. “Didn’t Hudson say something about seeing Clem and Cora fighting yesterday?”

“Yes he did.” Skip again pointed to Kate’s questions list.

She wrote
Ask Hudson re: C and C fighting day she died.

“And the biggest question of all,” Skip said. “How in the devil did someone get out of that room with her door alarm engaged?”

Kate added that one to the list. “So we need to talk to Clem tomorrow, and Dr. Hudson.”

“And the ship’s doctor,” Skip said.

“I feel a case of the vapors coming on,” Liz said, faking a British accent and pretending to swoon. “And of course, all my dear, dear friends would want to accompany me to the infirmary, to make sure I’m well cared for.”

Kate laughed. “That is the worst accent I’ve ever heard.”

Liz chuckled, then nodded toward her tablet. “I’ve got some info.” She handed her husband a sheet of paper from the pad.

“What’s this?”

“Cora’s divorce attorney. I got his name from a newspaper article from a couple weeks ago. You think he’d tell you anything about her will?”

Rob sighed. “He might not even be the lawyer who wrote it up for her.”

Liz gave him a sharp look.

“Okay, I’ll call him and see what I can find out.”

Liz looked at her watch. “He’s in California. They’re a couple hours behind us, aren’t they? He might still be in his office.”

Rob sighed again and took out his cell phone to turn it on.

They all listened as he maneuvered past the lawyer’s staff, insisting he had an urgent matter to discuss regarding the late Ms. Cora Beall. “She’s transferring me. The staff apparently didn’t even know Cora was dead.”

“Yes, Mr. Lansing,” he said into the phone. “I’m very sorry to be the bearer of bad news... No, sir, this is not a prank. I’m an attorney myself, on the same cruise ship as Ms. Beall and her companion. We had struck up a friendship with her, my wife and I and friends of ours.”

A pause while Rob listened. “The ship’s captain is convinced it was suicide, or an accidental drug overdose, but we have reason to believe otherwise. I was hoping you could give me some indication regarding the primary beneficiaries of her will.”

Another pause. “Of course I understand that. Perhaps you could just let me know if certain parties would
not
benefit substantially by her death. Say her husband?” Rob nodded after a beat. “And the young man who is cruising with her, Clemens Johnson? I believe they’ve been dating for a while.”

A longer pause this time. “Thank you, sir. Anyone else we should be aware of? ... Okay, thanks again. I will definitely keep you informed.”

“What did he say?” Kate asked.

“It’s what he didn’t say that’s more important. When I asked about Clem, he said nothing.”

“Meaning Clem
would
benefit from the will,” Liz said.

“Yeah,” Rob said. “No matter how sincere he seems, I think we need to leave him on the suspect list.”

Kate nodded, even though her instincts were telling her Clem was no killer.

But what if they’d fought again? Could he have killed her in the heat of the moment?

Unlikely, since she hadn’t been straggled or bludgeoned with the proverbial blunt instrument. Injecting drugs into her arm required at least some degree of premeditation.

Liz had turned back to the small desk. “I also found out who booked their tickets after Cora did.”

“How’d you do that?” Kate asked.

“Hacked into the cruise line’s records.”

Rob covered his ears and closed his eyes. “I hear no evil. I see no evil.”

Liz ignored him. “There were only five bookings after Cora’s. Two families, one couple, one single man, one single woman. Took me a few minutes to get past their firewall but I got a little more info about them.”

Rob scrunched his eyes even tighter closed and started singing, “La, la, la, la.”

Kate laughed. Rob as a lawyer, and an officer of the court, abhorred his wife’s tendency to stroll wherever she liked online, if she felt it was for a good cause.

“I think we can eliminate the families,” Liz said. “The couple’s in their eighties and they requested a wheelchair-accessible cabin, so they seem unlikely. The singleton female, Susan Spencer, is thirty-four, from Wisconsin, no special needs listed. Singleton man is David Fredericks, forty-five, from North Carolina, also no special needs. I’ve got their home addresses. Give me a few minutes to do a background check on them.”

Rob had opened his eyes. “Is it safe to listen yet?”

Kate grinned and nodded. After he’d taken his fingers out of his ears, she said, “She’s not illegal at the moment, just doing background checks.” She looked at her watch and grimaced. “It’s almost time for dinner. I guess we won’t be able to check these two out tonight.”

“We can try after dinner. What’s our excuse for accosting them?” Rob asked.

Kate shrugged. “We tell them we’re checking into Cora’s death?”

Skip shook his head. “We might want to be more discreet than that, just in case one of them is a hired killer. I’d suggest we watch their cabins and follow them when they go to dinner. Observe and see if there’s anything that either eliminates them or heightens our suspicions.”

Liz turned and winked at Kate. “Don’t it just make ya all weak in the knees when he talks detective-ese like that?”

Kate laughed. Skip shook his head, but there was an indulgent smile on his face.

“Susan Spencer is an investment broker,” Liz said. “Apparently a very successful one. Mr. Fredericks is still a mystery man. I couldn’t find anything on him.”

“Nothing?” Kate asked.

“Nada, except a Social Security number and a North Carolina driver’s license. No tickets or accidents. Name doesn’t bring up any news reports or anything in my searches. He doesn’t seem to be on any social media sites.”