Deadly Reunion (23 page)

He gripped me as if I might slip from his arms. I needed him to hold my quivering body in place. Silently, I let tears flow, knowing I was safe.

“There’s a TV camera,” he said, shifting me to his side and gripping me there. He leaned his face down against my head, possibly to hide it from being filmed.

I noted the sound of heavy footsteps and wheeled luggage. More newscasters.

“Let’s get out of here. This way.” Gil turned me toward the nearest door to go outside. Neither of us glanced at the TV crew on the opposite side of the atrium. We pushed onto the cold outer deck. I gazed at mountains, refusing to look at icebergs.

“That’s on the starboard side near the land,” the naturalist announced, “where you can see the pod of whales.”

I lowered my eyes from the mountaintop to the water in front of them. Tails that looked miniscule flipped atop the water. Small waterspouts could have been fountains turned on beneath the ocean’s surface.

“This is good,” I said. “Whales. Living things in the water instead of death.”

Gil stood behind me, arm wrapped around me keeping me snug against his chest. “Most things in the water live.” A quiet moment ensued. “Some don’t.”

A young couple walked near, smiled, and moved on. Farther down the deck, a few passengers peered toward the whales, the smarter ones using binoculars. Many voices were excited. Maybe a whale leapt from the water.

“What could have happened to her?” I asked.

Gil took breaths before he answered. “What do you think?”

“She fell. She had been drinking a lot and leaned against the rail…or over the rail…and then the ship swayed, maybe hit a huge wave. Nobody saw her and she dropped overboard.” My words flew. “She used to be a good swimmer. But she landed on that hard iceberg, and it knocked her out. She lay on that frigid ice too long…” My mental images slowed. I did not want to think of how cold and frightened she must have been. I turned toward Gil, snuggling my chilly face against him.

I could not see his face as he spoke. “I don’t think she suffered.”

Nodding, I wanted to believe those words.

“Cealie, I don’t believe she fell.”

I held my breath, staring at pale blue threads in Gil’s V-neck sweater.

He rubbed my upper back. “Somebody shoved her overboard.”

I pushed back and lifted my head to look at him.

Voices sounded as people stepped outside to the deck.

Gil pulled my face in against his chest. “More cameramen,” he said, face close to my head. “As soon as they’re through filming out here, we’ll go inside.”

“Gil,” I said, gripping him, “who would do such a thing?”

His breath felt extra warm trapped near his chest. “I don’t know. Who do you think would do it?”

“Me?” I worked my head back from his grip and peered up at him. “Why would I have any idea of who might…” I couldn’t even think the rest, much less say the words.

A flash of light snagged my attention. A man wearing heavy dark gear was filming us. I didn’t care anymore, at least if he didn’t get our words.

I pinned my attention back on Gil. “How could I know that? My God, everybody loved that girl. She was so bubbly and sweet.” Of course, Tetter’s personality on this trip had been the antithesis of the girl I’d known in high school. “She changed,” I admitted.

“Don’t we all?” He turned toward the door, and we returned inside.

The warmer air and lack of icy scenes helped me relax. Until I spied more men and women with official gear of their news stations.

“Let’s go to my cabin.” Gil held my hand, and we hurried to the interior bank of elevators, not the glass ones the news crews could film. We kept quiet waiting and then when we joined others on the ride. Passengers chattered about reporters and people who’d fallen during this trip.

“And I’m sure she was dead,” a slim woman in a sweat suit said.

“Maybe not,” a woman behind me chimed in.

“Oh, I think so. Did you see? It looked like blood on her head,” a man said.

I tightened my grip on Gil’s, fighting to withhold sobs and not shout at these people.

“We’re here,” Gil said.

I walked with my eyes ahead, not glancing aside as I heard the door opening to a cabin we passed. Gil and I remained mute until he unlocked his door.

“This is lovely,” I said, stepping into the suite that made my stateroom a closet by comparison. A recessed walnut-brown ceiling trimmed with a wide strip of white and thinner strips of darker cherry brought out the numerous recessed lights. I spied a separate sitting room with extra chairs and a love seat and dining area that led to his balcony. The pictures portrayed outdoor scenes, and a tranquil foam-green quilted spread topped his queen-sized bed. This was probably the first time I had ever been in a bedroom with Gil when I knew for sure sex would not take place.

“Sit down here.” He drew a cushioned chair from his desk. I sat and accepted the ship’s binder he gave me. He snagged a small tab and opened the binder to that page.

“Room service,” I read and glanced at him.

“Your stomach’s been howling,” he noted, and I almost grinned. “Let’s get some lunch sent up. I want this.” He pointed to Club Sandwich and Fruit Bowl.

“Can we share?”

“Nope, get your own. You need strength for everything that’s happening.”

He yanked the phone from a desk and placed our order, also asking for two raspberry iced teas. He hung up and stepped toward me. “Now can we have sex?”

Stunned, I chuckled.

“Ah, good.” He trailed a finger across my cheek. “I knew I could get a smile.”

“You always can, even in the midst of a tragic situation.” I recalled something I’d wanted to ask. “Why were you in the library when security started questioning people? What did you know about Tetter?”

“The things you told me. And that I’d met her.”

I stared into his gray eyes. They remained sincere.

“I don’t think I told you much about her. And do you think everybody she met or talked to needed to report it to security?”

“That depends. Babe, I also mentioned the male classmate with all of you.”

“What did you tell security?” I stood, feeling betrayed. “Did you tell them everything I told you? I could do that myself if I wanted to.”

He grabbed my hands. “No. I’d looked at every photograph they took on this ship that has you in it,” he said, making me feel flattered. “In most of the ones with all of your classmates, you’re between Randy and Tetter. And he’s glaring at you. In one picture he managed to stand beside Tetter. He’s gazing at her and looks overjoyed.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. I only told them what I saw.”

I swallowed, satisfied. “And how did you know she was dead?”

“Uncle Errol. I texted him and asked of her condition. I knew you’d especially want to know.”

“Thank you.”

“He said he’ll tell me more later. Since she’d been kept so cold out there, he worked on her much longer than usual before determining she was gone.”

“And the morgue?” I said, worrying about it not staying cold enough.

“Electricians fixed it right away before they started to work on the outside camera system that also developed problems. Uncle Errol was also going to have to inform the Coast Guard and nearest quarantine station.”

“Oh, maybe she was ill.”

“I don’t think so. They also needed to notify the sheriff’s office in the ship’s home port, and when the ship docks, an autopsy will be performed.”

I shoved my palm against his lips, making him stop. I could not think of anyone cutting Tetter open. Queasiness snaked around in my stomach.

Pounding came from Gil’s door.

“Room service,” a woman called.

The thought of food and the scent of bacon on the sandwich and sliced ripe cantaloupe made my stomach skip. I rushed to a trashcan, fearing I’d heave.

Gil handed her a large tip and signed her paper, and she gave me a wide smile and big hello, which I tried to return but could not. Once she went out, Gil gently shoved me back on the chair. The food trays sat in front of me.

“Eat. You need to. You’ll have to help Tetter.”

His words made no sense, but I complied. He sweetened our tea. We ate our sandwiches and fruit, not slowing to speak. What more was there to say? I didn’t wonder how I could still try to help my friend, as he suggested, until we’d finished our meal, and Gil drew back the covers of his large bed.

“You need to rest. Your ankle still has some swelling, so you have to keep it up awhile. Then you’ll be able to move faster.”

Like a lamb, I heeded instructions. I noticed an ache in my leg that I hadn’t before. I climbed into bed, and he drew the covers up.

Gil kissed my lips and turned off the lights. “I’ll be back later.” His footsteps fell across carpet. The door hissed open and clicked shut.

My head sank deeper into the exquisitely soft pillow. I was ready to nap. And then when I awoke, I would take care of Tetter’s problem.

But how?

My befuddled brain kept me tossing around in Gil’s bed. No way could I rest.

How could I relax? My good buddy Tetter was dead.

I sat up, angry at the bright sunlight beyond the sheers at his window and balcony door. The sun shouldn’t shine today.

I stepped out to the large balcony and shivered from cold. Too weary to return inside and grab his robe, I plopped on a plastic chair. I propped my feet on another one and peered at pure blue water and gorgeous mountains. “Damn you,” I said to nature’s beauty.

A crackle let me know someone was making announcements. At least we didn’t hear them in our cabins while we were trying to sleep.

“So in the water near the ship right now, you can see otters playing.”

“Crap!” I shouted, wishing whoever was telling about those cutesy things would stop.

That wasn’t going to happen. He continued to talk about all of the beauty passengers could see. Right, and what about my dead friend?

“Oh, that’s true. Y’all saw her, too,” I said into the wind, aware that neither the man describing the pretty things nor the passengers he spoke to could hear.

I stormed inside, slamming the door of Gil’s stateroom. My friend died. I needed to find out what why.

Anguish squeezed my scalp and pressed my elbows against my torso. My main purpose for coming here was to help my buddy with some major difficulty in her life. I’d failed.

The other event that had enticed me to Alaska was getting to spend time with my son. I’d also failed in that.

I stood in place, shutting my eyes. I often failed in things I hoped to achieve, but reminded myself I wasn’t a failure. Some events in life I couldn’t control. Some I could.

I opened my eyes, determined to fix every situation I could.

Most pressing was Tetter’s death. Like Gil, I also believed someone murdered her.

And I hadn’t even discovered her trouble.

Now I must.

Jane had roomed with Tetter. She must know more than she’d told me.

Outside Gil’s door, I grabbed the ship’s newsletter from the wall bracket that held a number of others. He hadn’t removed any of them to see what events were offered.

I took only the one for today and skimmed it as I walked. Recalling that Gil had fed me what he called a late lunch, I determined it was early to midafternoon. The ship offered high tea about now. Jane would not be at a tea, and I wasn’t hungry. There was a game show in one of the bars. I couldn’t imagine her wanting to play a game right now. On the Lido Deck a talented crewmember would be carving an ice sculpture, chipping away at a massive block of ice to create a pair of swans or some such lovely creatures. Many passengers would watch this carving, which I imagined meant we were not sailing near sights the naturalist would mention.

I’d watched ice carvings on ships and enjoyed them but would not today. Today my friend died. She died on ice. I didn’t want to see any more of it than I had to.

Where would Jane be? In her room? I doubted it. I imagined that, after going through an inquisition with security members in the library, she didn’t want to be cooped up in a room any more than I did.

I located a wall phone, charged the call to my room, called hers. As I suspected, no answer. I also dialed her cell. She didn’t answer. I didn’t leave a message asking her to call me since I wouldn’t be staying in this spot.

Jane would desire to run now.

Her jog had been cut short this morning. Now she’d especially want to get her endorphins flowing.

I’d seen her walk up the open stairwell from the Lido Deck this morning to reach wherever she’d planned to jog. Imagining a jogging track was on the next deck above, I opened my tri-folded map showing the ship’s plan to check.

Eek, the jogging track was way up on deck fifteen. And I would have to walk up three flights of outdoor stairs.

With relief, I saw an elevator could take me up to the Sports Deck, which meant I would need to walk up only one flight. Promising myself I’d begin that exercise routine soon, I made my way to the elevator.

Riding with others, I heard two of them whisper that I was one of the dead woman’s friends.

Struggling, I kept my chin up and mouth quiet. I stepped off once we stopped and trudged up stairs to the uppermost smallest deck. Gripping the rail, I felt the ship rock.

I reached the top deck and peered at people lolling on decks below. I was a child’s tiny boat rocking on a massive sea. Brisk, blood-chilling air lashed against me. It felt like I was on a balcony. Fear pinched the rear of my neck and squeezed my back muscles as though trying to hide them inside my spine.

Had this happened to Tetter? Panic. And then she dropped over the side?

Struggling for clearer thoughts, I figured she couldn’t have fallen that distance.

I spied Jane. She was running, the only person besides me up on this deck.

She jogged toward the opposite edge of the oval track. I tried to call her. My throat released only trapped air. The ship shifted. I envisioned myself tipping into frigid brine. Spreading my feet, I bent my knees for balance and tightened my grip on the rail.

Jane pumped her arms, looking much younger than I felt in her slenderizing jogging suit, her running shoes pounding the outdoor carpet. She peered back, seeming to sense she wasn’t alone. Her face registered concern. Then recognition. She dashed toward me.