Deadly Reunion (17 page)

“But they probably never claimed to have a major problem. Tetter did,” I said.

“True.”

“We’ll just take a quick run through here. There are lots of places with other entertainment she might be enjoying on this ship.”

We plunged ahead between tables, whipping our heads one way and the other to try to spot our friend.

I aimed into a section in the far right corner, and she turned toward the left. Coins jangled as they tumbled from a machine I neared, a voice in the machine yelling, “You’ve scored!” I wished those machines would also tell players how much they lost each time they pushed a button.

The coins’ recipient snagged my interest much more than the quarters he was collecting in his plastic bucket.

“Randy,” I said. “You did great.”

“It’s about time. I put a lot more than this in the machine.”

“Really?” I took a second to calculate that he must have spent lots of time and cash in this spot. “Have you seen—”

“Have you seen Tetter?” he asked, the question I’d started to ask him.

“No, she didn’t come to dinner. Neither did you,” I said.

Frown lines creased his forehead. “I didn’t feel like a big meal, so I went through the fast line on the Lido Deck and grabbed a grilled chicken breast.”

Exactly what I should have done instead of pigging out on that bacon-wrapped filet mignon and accessories the Executive Chef must have specially prepared for me. The thought of that possibility made me wonder as I watched Randy scoop the last piles of coins from the machine’s tray into his bucket.
Had
the chef made that meal just for me? I’d shown up in the dining room late and without checking the menu, asked our waitress to bring whatever was quickest so I wouldn’t hold the staff back from preparing for the second seating of their guests.

If Sandkeep did prepare a meal for me and send me champagne, what did that mean?

“This ought to tide me over for a while.” Randy smiled, struggling to balance his filled bucket on his lap.

“Nice. You might buy some jewelry at the Floating Jewels sale tonight with all of that cash. You could get something nice for your wife,” I suggested.

“That’s an idea,” he said disinterestedly and wrapped both arms around his bucket. “I’m going to cash this in.”

“Great. So what did you and Tetter do in town today?”

He glanced at me, eyes more serious. “We walked on that boardwalk and went into a couple of neat shops with false fronts. Then she wanted to check out some store where I didn’t care to go. We said we’d see each other later. I haven’t seen her again, but I’m sure she came back in time.”

He carried his coins toward a cashier’s cage.

I rushed toward Jane, who was dropping coins into a penny machine.

“I didn’t see Tetter,” she said, “but I saw this machine. Look at how these frogs jump.”

“I found Randy over there.” I filled her in on details. “I’m not sure I believe him.”

“Well, he’s a big boy, and she’s a big girl.”

That wasn’t good enough for me, not if Tetter had told Jane she had a major difficulty and it had gotten worse right before our cruise.

“Why don’t you play awhile? There are lots of fun machines.”

“Machines always win when I play. I’m going to look around the boat. I’ll see you later, maybe for the performance in an hour or so in the theater. Good luck.”

Gil had been in a meeting and unhappy about my champagne when I’d last spoken to him.

What I really needed to do was check on two people: my friend and my aunt.

Did Tetter want help with a problem? If so, she certainly wasn’t sharing that information.

Worry clung like a spider attaching itself to my shoulders when I considered my aunt and the man who’d died onboard. I wanted to believe she had nothing to do with his death. But a nagging fear reminded me they had flirted with each other.

And today she’d flirted with that large man at the bar.

Tommy’s face came into mind, and I yearned to be with him. But I couldn’t achieve that desire right now. Feeling the boat seeming to pick up speed, I scuttled in search of Tetter or Sue.

I’d start with some of the public places on this deck. People walked and sat and talked everywhere. It was still fairly early evening, but many folks would be in bars. I ducked into the Regal Lounge and smiled at the bartender, the only person inside. Scouting faces again in the wide hallway, I peeked into the library. A dozen or so people searched for reading material. I ambled farther, and the boat dipped, making my booted foot slide a pinch sideways. It struck the leg of a stool at the open bar where we had sung.

Gil sat on that stool.

“Great. You’re falling for me.” He clasped my wrist before I fell over. Gil helped me straighten on my feet.

I widened my stance to keep my balance and surveyed people sitting with him. All three were men, making me relax. They wore dressy casual with light jackets or sweaters. No-nonsense drinks without umbrellas stood in front of each of them.

“I need to fall for someone,” I told Gil, “and you happen to be in the right place.” I gave him a smile in which I attempted to give away nothing. These men didn’t need to know he knew me if that’s what he chose, and I could move on, continuing my purpose. He could continue whatever he was doing with these people.

“It looks like you hurt yourself.” With a serious face, Gil pointed to my boot. “Do you need some help, ma’am? I could help you somewhere—maybe to your room.”

I stared at his eyes. No smile lines near them. I checked his lips. Not a hint of a grin.

He wasn’t trying to get me back to my stateroom for sex. What was Gil up to?

I wasn’t in a romantic mood, although that could easily change when he came around. He wore that look of something-serious-is-filling-my-brain-now-so-let-me-work-it-out.

I wanted to know what that serious thing was.

“I appreciate your offer,” I said, pretending he was a stranger. “I’m not ready to go to my room yet, but I was hoping to get to that place.” I pointed aft, trying to recall what might be back there on this deck.

“Oh, the Wake Lounge,” he said.

“That’s the one. My friends are waiting.” I saw his gaze follow my left hand slipping into my right palm and spied his smirk as he watched me pinch, knowing I’d brewed a lie.

“I’ll help her get there and be right back,” he told the men on the barstools.

“Take your time,” one wearing thick bifocals said.

“Give us all another round, would you?” Gil asked the bartender, surely to keep these people in their places till he returned.

He gripped my arm. I bent toward him as I walked, doing my best imitation of a woman in pain needing a man to lean on.

“This is so nice of you, sir,” I said, gazing at my feet.

“Does your foot really hurt?”

“No, I slid. I was just lucky I stopped against Sir Galahad.”

“Damn, I miss you.” His gaze met mine. “I would much rather be with you than any of them.”

“So why are you with them? Why not staying with me?”

We passed through the smaller hallway beside one of the dining rooms. Out of view from the men he’d left, Gil wrapped his arms around me and kissed. Long. Deep kisses. My torso sprang to life.

“Yummy,” I said as he drew back. A couple with small children was passing. Gil, the gentleman, would not let them see us getting too passionate. My mind had all but dissipated. Body parts sent him invisible magnets.

He pushed a lock of hair away from my forehead and placed a soft kiss there.

I reached out for him.

He kept at arm’s length. “Those men are telling me about something that could become a real problem. I need to get back to them.”

“Can I help?”

He kissed my nose. “Maybe if you could whip up lots of fantastic Cajun dishes.”

I grinned and made my shoulders droop. “Mom’s fault. She didn’t create a cook.”

“I know, not even a good microwaver.” He grinned, but then looked serious. “It seems your friend Chef Sandkeep has a special intolerance for Cajun food.”

“So? Lots of passengers love it.”

“Yes, but some people have been getting sick. He seems to be blaming their illnesses on the food my chef prepares.”

I considered his statements. “What does your uncle say?”

“That’s one problem. Uncle Errol keeps so busy with all of the sick passengers we haven’t had time to talk. His reply to my e-mail said he hasn’t seen any proof that any Cajun dishes are causing the problem.”

“Well, there.”

“That doesn’t rule it out. They just don’t know yet.”

“I’m sure your food is fine. The Executive Chef is wrong. He’s just jealous of your chef’s cooking.”

Gil lifted my chin. “And maybe of my girl, too.”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s this deal about him sending you champagne?”

“And two stemmed glasses.”

He didn’t look happier. “Why did he send them?”

I shrugged. “Who knows?”

“A man doesn’t send champagne to a woman he isn’t trying to impress.”

Huffiness expanded in my chest. “What are you suggesting?”

“There must have been a card with his gift. What did it say?”

“The date we sailed and my stateroom.” His eyes glazed over as I told this info I knew he didn’t care about. “And then it said
To Cealie Gunther and blank
.”

“Blank?”

“Yes, like whoever I was going to drink with.”

His gray eyes hardened. “And that person is…?”

“What? Do you think he wants me?”

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t.”

“This is me, Cealie, with the flabby boobs and droopy skin and crow’s feet gathering near her eyes. And my middle keeps spreading, but not my height.”

He grabbed my hands. “To me, you look fantastic. I love you. I don’t want any other man to do that. I could never stand to lose you.”

I grinned, tight-lipped, not certain what to say. Should I tell him I never wanted another man to admire me?

Absolutely not. Would I want to lose Gil? No way. I just didn’t want to remain with him all the time until I fully knew myself again, and I was so close.

I kept my lips tight.

He kissed my cheek. “I need to get back there. Maybe I’ll get to see you later.”

“Thanks for the help, mister,” I called and entered the lounge.

Everyone sat in large black leather chairs forming a semicircle that faced a huge flat screen wall TV. People drank, smoked, and watched baseball.

Tetter sat in the room. And she had a problem that I was about to help her solve.

Chapter 15

Tetter watched my approach from her leather club chair. She sat in the last row of the semicircle of people gathered in the loud smoky bar, lips tight and eyes appearing harder as I neared. No one sat beside her.

A few bar patrons glanced at me but returned their attention to the baseball game on television.

I located a chair similar to Tetter’s, drew it beside hers, and sat. “Hello,” I said.

“Hello.” She gave me the briefest nod and faced the game.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I pointed to the margarita glass she held. Her frozen drink was almost gone, its thick salt rim disturbed in only one spot.

“Sure.”

I met the male bartender’s gaze, pointed to Tetter’s glass, and held up two fingers. Surprising me, he twisted his lips in a sort of frown. Then he nodded. Why wouldn’t he want to get us both drinks? Or maybe I was reading something into his expression that meant nothing.

Voices lifted in the game. Some people in the bar cheered. Others complained.

Tetter stared at the set, not changing her expression. She sipped her drink.

I watched her long moments. Still facing forward, she checked me through the corner of her eye.

The waiter brought our drinks. I gave him my sailing card and signed the bill.

Tetter nodded her thanks to me. She took big swallows to finish her other drink and handed her glass to the bartender.

He swung his gaze to me and then to her full glass and the empty one she set on his tray. I felt he was telling me she’d had a few, and he was concerned.

“We missed you at dinner,” I told Tetter.

She stared at the game.

“Which of them do you like?” I asked.

She squinted at me, looking confused.

“Do you like both of them?”

Her eyes widened. She turned away and stared at the TV. I could have sworn that was the first time she noticed two teams played baseball. What did she think I was talking about?

“They’re both good.” She removed the tiny umbrella from her glass and swilled her drink.

I sipped my frozen drink, the coarse salt on the rim making me need to lick some grit off my teeth.
Thwack
came from the TV. People with us cheered and griped. Some urged players on. Others quieted and waited.

I touched Tetter’s forearm. “I’d like to help.”

She drew her arm away and gulped down more liquor. “With what?”

“The situation troubling you.”

Her gaze met mine. Worry lines crinkled skin between her eyes, which now revealed fear. She breathed, not saying a word, but appeared the Tetter I had known as a teen, the buddy who was ready to tell all and help all or ask for help if she required it.

A smoke tendril drifted between us as a woman in front fired up her cigarette.

I fanned the smoke aside, momentarily considering my cousin I’d visited not long ago in Gatlinburg who had recently quit smoking. I would have to call or e-mail and find out how she was doing, especially with her new love life.

Tetter’s expression stayed tense. “Cealie…”

“Yes.” I leaned close so she could speak without fear of being overheard.

She shook her head, her gaze seeming to go inward, where a decision was made.

“I have to leave.” She pushed up to her feet. Standing, she swayed.

I grabbed her arm. “Maybe you need to sit awhile longer.”

“No.” She set her drink down and picked up her purse. “I’m okay.”

I kept my margarita and followed her out the bar. My booted foot made keeping up with her quick steps especially difficult. She glanced from side to side at people as though searching for someone, and did not slow for me.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” I touched her elbow.