Midnight Shimmer: A Toni Diamond Mystery (Toni Diamond Mysteries Book 3) (4 page)

In Toni’s experience, being cheated on brought out two kinds of women. There were the conciliators, the women who suggested marriage counseling and maybe a holiday to try to rekindle the marriage; and then there were the women who treated cheating like it was a huge pair of scissors to a marriage. Their first call when they discovered the awful truth wasn’t to the marriage counselor. It was to the divorce lawyer.

She’d never had a chance to find out which group she belonged to. Dwayne had snuck out like a thief in the night, leaving her with nothing but her infant daughter and his fancy last name.

“First, I called a very discreet private detective agency and had him followed. Then I called my lawyer.” Alicia gave a dry chuckle. “The only good thing to come out of this is that it’s the same lawyer who drew up the prenup.”

Okay, so Alicia was more of a scissors girl. “Well, as heartbreaking as this is, I guess you have to look on the bright side. At least you have a prenup.”

“Oh yeah. I seriously think he believed he’d get away with the affair and I’d never find out about Sondra. It was almost comical how passionately he denied that he was cheating. But, of course, I had pictures and the detective’s report. So then he tried crying, suggested marriage counseling, thought maybe we should go on a cruise together and rekindle our marriage.” She sipped her drink so suddenly Toni suspected she was forcing herself not to cry. “This is the cruise we were supposed to go on.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. After promising me that he had ended it with Sondra, of course he hadn’t. All he’d done was to get her a different job. Maybe he thought that if I knew they weren’t working together, I would believe they weren’t sleeping together.”

“Why do dumb men tell lies to smart women and think they can get away with them?”

Alicia looked at her in surprise. “How do you know that David is dumb?”

“Please. He had you and instead played hide-the-weenie with thirty-two-year-old Sondra with an
O
? All he had to do was genuinely try and make things work with you and you would have forgiven him.” In a way, she wasn’t talking about Alicia anymore. She was remembering how she’d hoped and prayed that Dwayne Diamond would return, after he’d walked out on her and Tiffany. It shamed her to admit it, but she was fairly certain that she’d have taken him back.

She’d recently become reacquainted with Dwayne when he’d got involved in a foolish moneymaking scheme that led to him being arrested for murder. She was pretty sure he’d have been better off if he’d stayed with her. She wasn’t big on revenge, but it was reassuring to know that she’d built a good life for herself and Tiffany, enjoyed her own home and a thriving business she loved, while Dwayne was still working as a two-bit country and western singer off the strip in Vegas, still trading on his fading good looks.

She felt a kinship with Alicia. “And what is it about smart women like us that we fall for the dumb, unethical ones?”

“I don’t think I am smart. I never learn from my mistakes. Do you?”

Toni sipped green tea. “You know, I think I have.” She thought about Luke, who was so honest she sometimes wished he’d tell a little white lie just to save her feelings. But he never did. Luke was not the kind of guy who, if you asked, “Do these jeans make my butt look fat?” would tell you that you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He was more likely to tell you to spend more time at the gym and lay off the Twinkies. But he was also one of the most ethical people she knew. In balance, she was willing to accept the brutal honesty that came with the rock-solid morals of the man.

She leaned forward and patted Alicia’s hand one more time. “And you will too. Next time.”

“I wish I was better at being alone.”

“Being alone isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a woman.”

“Isn’t that the truth?”

“But good for you—you came on the cruise anyway.”

“I did. And I think that even if my grandson hadn’t come with me, I’d have come on my own. I’m fifty-eight years old. It’s time I got used to my own company.”

Alicia glanced up and her eyes widened even as her face drained of color. She looked sick, and scared. “What are
you
doing here?” She sounded like she’d seen a ghost.

“What?”

“Oh my God, speak of the devil.”

“I beg your pardon?”

But Alicia wasn’t paying any attention to Toni. Her gaze was fixed on something, or someone, on the other side of the deck. “I’ve got to go. Excuse me.” Alicia jumped up so fast her chair lurched back and then she stumbled out of the lounge area toward the stairs and elevators.

She looked as though she were running away.

But why? Who or what had panicked her?

Toni looked back to where Alicia had been gazing when she acted as though she’d seen the first wave of the zombie apocalypse, but a large crowd had emerged onto the deck. Men and women, young, old, black, white. She caught a glimpse of a man with white hair disappearing into the fitness center. Had the unlamented David decided to join the cruise after all?

Was he hoping to surprise his wife and lure her back?

From the horrified expression on Alicia’s face, Toni didn’t think the ship’s chapel would be called upon for a renewal-of-vows service anytime soon.

She gazed after Alicia. The woman had been so upset. Toni didn’t like to see anyone suffer, but she had a special soft spot for a woman duped and lied to by a charmer. She rose and decided to follow Alicia. She didn’t want to be pushy and if the woman didn’t want company and a sympathetic ear, then she’d leave her alone. But Alicia had already told Toni that she didn’t love being alone.

She’d looked like she could really use a friend.

Toni rapidly followed in Alicia’s wake, but she was still learning her way around the ship. She walked through the doors her new friend had passed through and didn’t see any sign of her. Ahead was a bank of elevators. Two passengers stood waiting, while four elevators made their leisurely trips up and down. Neither of the passengers was Alicia.

She nibbled her lower lip. It was possible that Alicia had walked right into an open elevator. Otherwise, she’d taken the stairs, or her cabin was on this floor. Toni ran to port—not that she’d know port from her elbow, but a sign indicated she was on the port side. She glanced up the corridor. It was so long you could roll a bowling ball down it and the ball would disappear from human sight before hitting the other end.

She saw several stewards, each with a cart; presumably they were making up staterooms. She glanced up and down. No sign of Alicia. She darted to the other side of the boat, but Alicia wasn’t in the long starboard corridor either.

At this point, Toni gave up. If Alicia had taken the stairs, she had no idea which floor she’d gone to. Enough. Nothing terrible was going to happen if Toni didn’t find her. Perhaps the woman’s grandson was waiting in her stateroom. Or she’d lock herself in and have a good cry and emerge in time for lunch feeling much better.

Toni returned to the coffee group and found her mother handing out their free makeover cards as though they were playing cards and she was the queen of Texas Hold ’Em.

“Toni, honey.” She beamed at her daughter. “I’ve got Annabel and Deirdre both wanting facials and makeup application lessons at the same time.”

Go, Linda!

She glanced at Toni with appeal, as though it might be an imposition for her daughter to give up her time to help another woman learn how to apply her makeup, when in fact there was nothing Toni loved more. Especially if it led to a new customer or a home party or maybe even a new rep for the company.

She pulled out her electronic calendar. “Sure, Mama. When were you thinking?”

When the four of them had picked a time that suited them all, they said goodbye and promised to meet again tomorrow for Zumba.

Maybe they only had two takers for their promotional services, but they’d barely started on the cruise. When they were out of sight of the other women, Toni high-fived her mom. “Way to go, Mama!”

“We are going to have so much fun on this cruise.”

“Oh, I know it.”

“Now, I’m going to shower and then what do you think? Bingo or line dancing?”

“Is that a serious question?”

Linda chuckled. Bingo was a game of pure chance. It couldn’t be manipulated or controlled. But line dancing? Linda Plotnik had practically invented it. And Toni, growing up with Linda as a mother and then marrying a country and western singer, was certainly no slouch.

“Do you think Tiffany will want to come?”

Tiffany, like Toni, had grown up line dancing. She and Toni used to step to “Achy Breaky Heart” shortly after she learned to walk. She might try to deny her heritage, but line dancing was part of her DNA, just like Stetsons and a love for cosmetics and bling.

However, when they got back to the stateroom, Tiff wasn’t there. “Never mind. If she hears the music she’ll be drawn to it, like the sirens to whatshisname.”

Toni chuckled. “I think the sirens tried to entice Ulysses and his men to their deaths.”

Linda turned and stared at her. “Well, look at you, all smarty-pants. Where did you learn a thing like that?” She wrinkled her nose. “Was it a movie starring Gerard Butler?”

She shrugged. “Probably. Or else I got it from Tiffany.”

After a quick shower, they redid their makeup and hair, donned tight jeans with sparkles on the derriere—Toni had never made the mistake of asking Luke whether
they
made her butt look fat—and headed to the Lido deck.

Some women might swoon when they heard classical music. Some might feel the Latin beat in their blood when they got near salsa or tango. But for Toni, the first bars of “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” acted like fishing wire attached to her ankles with some gorgeous crooner reeling her in.

Her hips were twitching and her feet were itching before they even hit the deck.

She glanced around and found about a hundred kindred souls. More women than men. A live band had set up on the deck above and half a dozen of the young “activity leaders,” as they were called—kids in their twenties who hailed from every corner of the globe and were all cute and high-energy—stood in front of the pool ready to lead the line.

“Amateurs,” Linda whispered.

She was right. They wore white tennis shoes.

Toni glanced around and found all the other participants wearing flip-flops, sandals, or sneakers. She and Linda were the only two in bona fide cowboy boots. Linda’s were purple with silver stitching. Toni’s were green. She’d had the boot maker add tiny diamonds to the heels. She loved those boots.

She glanced out and the azure sea of the Caribbean winked at her. She was so happy she felt like winking back. Sunshine, a week with her mama and her daughter, no meals to cook, no errands to run. She could relax and enjoy her cruise.

The activity director, who looked barely old enough to shave, and who introduced himself as Ryan from Brisbane, Australia, got things started. He introduced Esme from England and Anna from Serbia. None of those countries were hotbeds of line dancing, but Toni was prepared to be indulgent.

The band broke into a Marvin Gaye song and Ryan and his two helpers launched into step, clapping along with the beat as Ryan yelled, “To the right, to the right, to the right, pause, to the left, to the left, to the left.” Then they did some incomprehensible shimmy and added in a cha-cha move.

“This ain’t line dancing,” Linda announced.

“It sure isn’t, Mama.”

They followed along for a few more minutes, Linda becoming increasingly ornery. “You think we should say something? Offer to help them out?”

“I think we should have fun and not worry about how good the lessons are.”

Linda did her shimmy and cha-cha. “That’s hard for me to do. It’s like asking a Baptist preacher to sit in a Catholic church and say amen.”

Oh, dear. When Linda started getting religious, she was seriously riled. But Toni had no idea what would have become of her mother’s dissatisfaction with the line dancing instruction, because an unfortunate distraction occurred.

A woman broke out of the line, glanced around desperately, ran to the side of the boat, bent over the rail, and vomited.

Unfortunately, the wind was blowing toward them.

From the deck below, six people screamed.

“I guess she’s seasick,” Linda said, looking a little green around the gills.

Toni looked out but the sea was as close to glassy calm as a sea could be. The only way you’d know the ship was moving was by listening to the muted purr of the engines. She doubted that the woman was seasick. “I hope it’s not—”

Another dancer broke the line and bolted for the nearest bucket. She hit the receptacle for the used towels and bent forward, retching.

A sun-wizened older woman said in a loud Brooklyn accent, “Oh, my God, it’s the Norovirus.”

Toni and her mama exchanged panicked glances. “Have you had your flu shot?” Linda asked. “Because I’ve been meaning to get one and I simply haven’t had a chance.”

“I don’t think a flu shot will protect you from the Norovirus.”

“Well, shoot, what will?”

Toni had no idea. She recalled the bulletins she used to get home from Tiffany’s school during flu and cold season, though, back when her daughter was little. “I think the best thing you can do is keep washing your hands with soap and water and try not to touch anything.”

“What about food? Can I touch food?” Linda looked slightly panicked and gazed longingly in the direction of the all-you-can-eat buffet.

“Of course you can touch the food.” The question was, would you want to?

The line dance class pretty much petered out after that. With two of the dancers missing in action, the punch seemed to go out of the line. Within minutes, crew members wearing so much protective gear they looked like aliens arrived with a cart and began cleaning and disinfecting the area.

Toni and Linda consulted the rest of the day’s scheduled activities. “There’s still Bingo,” Linda said.

“You go on to Bingo if you want, Mama. I think I’ll book something at the spa.”

“Okay, honey. Wish me luck.”

“I sure do.” It wasn’t that Toni was averse to, say, the seaweed salt scrub or a stress reducing massage, but her primary purpose in heading for the spa was to slip Linda’s mangled hairpiece to the beautician and to do a little snooping. The spa was next door to the gym. If she recalled correctly, there was a nice big window wall separating the two facilities and with luck, she’d get a little peek at what her daughter was up to. With a bit of extra luck, her daughter would never know.

But when she got to the spa, she felt like she was entering the set of a science fiction movie. Guys in blue overalls wearing surgical masks over their mouths and protective gear over their faces patrolled the halls. It took her a second to realize that they weren’t carrying intergalactic weapons. They were carrying buckets and mops. “Oh, dear.”

Lorna was on duty again. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The spa is closed temporarily.”

“Somebody tossed their cookies, huh?”

The woman smiled at her and said, “We should be open again after lunch.”

“Okay. I’ll come back,” she said, hoping she’d brought enough hand sanitizer with her.

Since it looked to Toni, peeking surreptitiously down the hall to the big window, that the gym was sparsely populated, and there was no one there resembling her daughter, she gave up and headed back outside through the heavy doors. She settled into a nearby lounge chair.

She had no idea how she was supposed to encourage women to feel good about themselves and enjoy complimentary makeup lessons and facials if they were all worried about getting sick.

Toni was a big, huge believer in the power of positive thinking. That every cloud held a silver lining, that when a door slammed in your face, somewhere a window opened. She gazed out to sea, happy that the Lady Bianca prize had been for a balcony suite. At least they could sit outside and smell the fresh sea air.

She grabbed a notepad from her bag, as was her habit whenever she was stumped by something. She wrote,
How can I turn the Norovirus into a Good Thing?

Nothing sprang to mind.

She tapped her lilac pen against the paper. Then she underlined what she’d written.

She tried brainstorming. She tried the Snowflake Method, a recent addition to her sales toolkit, where you put your big thing in the middle and added linked items out to the side so the resulting diagram looked like a snowflake.

Actually, Toni’s never did. Her diagram always looked like a big mess of scribbles, but sometimes she’d light on something fresh. So, she wrote
Norovirus
in the center of a blank page.

She drew a line extending from that circle.
People sick.

Another line.
Make them feel better?

She tapped her pen. She wasn’t a medical professional or a faith healer. She drew another line.

Once they start to feel better, they will want a treat and new makeup will make them look better.

Oh, now she was on a roll. Of course, it wasn’t while passengers were ill and confined to their cabins that they’d want to know about Lady Bianca, it was as they started to improve. She knew for herself that the times she was most likely to buy a beauty treatment were when she’d been sick and was feeling better or when she’d finished a project and felt she deserved a reward. Or, like now, when she was on vacation.

She nodded. All was not lost. Those who weren’t sick would be as likely to take an interest in their appearance as before. But those who did fall ill would surely appreciate a little boost when they were back to normal.

Yep, there was that window opening wide and letting in a nice breeze with the scent of the Caribbean. All she and Linda and Tiff had to do was make sure they didn’t get sick.

She was busy making plans when an angry female voice broke into her reverie.

“I am going to kill her!”