Sammy Keyes and the Killer Cruise (31 page)

“For you,” he says, handing it over, and when I look at the page, I see:

“Wow!” I gasp.

Marissa reads the inscription, then takes the book from
me. “You cannot be up all night reading this. One mystery per cruise is one mystery too many!”

But then I notice that there’s a web address written on the scrap of paper. So I show it to Marissa. “I wonder what this is about.”

She laughs, “Well, that one’s pretty easy to solve.”

So we go over to a computer and log on, and when I type in the address, what pops up is the same picture that’s on the puzzle.

Only it’s not a picture of a puzzle.

It’s a picture of a book.

Darren’s looking over my shoulder and reads, “ ‘
The Gold Bug
, by Edgar Allan Poe.’ ”

“How cool is that?” Marko says. “A famous mystery writer solving a mysterious puzzle that turns out to be a mystery book by another famous mystery writer.”

Marissa laughs, “Put me out of my mystery!” which makes Marko cry, “Get me a corn husker!” which makes all of us crack up.

After we’re done laughing, I ask, “Do I have time to check in with Casey?” and when Darren says sure, I message him and get all happy because Casey
is
online. I know the others are waiting for me, though, so I pretty much just tell him that I miss him and can’t wait to see him.

And then we just go to bed.

I was smart enough to leave the curtain a little bit open, so I wasn’t all weirded out in the morning. And I didn’t have any bizarre dreams about numbers and letters. I actually
woke up feeling great. And happy. And ready to pack in some fun!

Trouble is, it didn’t feel like I could really forget about everything and have fun until I’d gone up to see Kate, like I’d promised. Plus Marissa had mentioned that we should invite Kip to do her fun list, so the first order of business of the day?

Kensingtons.

Marissa was all for getting it over with, and after we showered and got ready, we decided to let Marko and Darren sleep in and zipped up to the Royal Suite without them.

It was only nine o’clock, but I rang the bell anyway, telling myself that old people get up early.

Which, it turns out, they do.

At least in this case.

Kate answered, and when she saw it was us, she gave us a mega-carat smile. “Darlings! Come in!” We trailed along behind her, and she said, “Kip is still sleeping and John is off filling his lungs with sea air. Can I offer you something to drink?”

Marissa and I had made a pact that we would keep the visit short, so I said, “No thanks.”

Ginger was sitting on the white furniture, having a cup of tea. “Good morning, girls,” she calls, like the Infamous Balcony Incident never even happened.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “About … you know.”

She chuckles. “Well, all’s well that ends well, right?” Then she switches subjects. “You two are up early.”

Marissa jumps in, saying, “Well, this whole cruise we’ve
been kind of preoccupied with the, uh,
Kensington
situation, so we really need to make up for lost time today. Do some rock climbing, golfing, ice-skating … that sort of thing.”

I nod. “So we thought we’d come here first thing.”

“Well, have a seat, won’t you?” Kate asks. “I promise we won’t keep you long.”

Which turned out to be a total lie, ’cause after she apologized for her “deceitful ploy to resolve some family issues” and explained some of the stuff that Kip had already told us, she wanted to know every little detail of every little thing.

Then behind us we hear a door open, and Kip sticks a groggy head out. “Hey!”

“We’re getting breakfast and going rock climbing,” Marissa tells him. “You want to come?”

“I’ll be there in a minute!” he says. “Don’t leave without me.”

And since we’re stuck for a little while longer, I ask Kate, “So what’s going to happen with the family now?”

She heaves a sigh. “A lot came out last night. I never knew how much the kids resented us for our absences.” She shakes her head and looks away. “Building a business takes commitment … but so does building a real family. We certainly gave the kids everything they ever dreamed of, but when your children all tell you they felt neglected, well, you should probably stop defending and start listening.”

“Tell them about the hospital,” Ginger says.

Kate nods. “Clearly, money won’t fix us. So John and I have given them a choice. Either take active roles in the building of the hospital in Africa or be disinherited.”

My eyebrows go shooting up. “Wait—you really are going to build a hospital?”

“You can’t imagine what it’s like over there,” she says quietly. “And John and I both feel it’s a much more fitting legacy for the family than acquiring more assets. None of the kids are suited to take over the business, and we’re ready to do something really meaningful with our wealth. So the kids can be part of it or go off in their own direction.” She eyes me. “The first requirement is to move to Africa.”

“You’re serious?”

“I am. John and I were both poor growing up, and so we gave our children everything we never had. So they never experienced poverty or hunger or even the joy of pulling yourself up in this world.” She frowns. “I’d like to believe it’s not too late to redeem them, but it’s going to require a radical change. So John and I have decided to force them into a situation that will open their eyes—living in Africa will certainly do that. I know they’ll resent us for the first few months—”

Ginger says, “Oh, Kate, it’s going to take longer than that.”

“And that’s okay,” Kate says with a nod. “If being in that environment doesn’t give them a sense of perspective, if building the hospital doesn’t give them a sense of higher purpose, then nothing will.”

“So are they going to do it?” Marissa asks.

Kate smiles. “Knowing my children? They’ll do it for the money. I’m just praying they’ll come away with something much more valuable.”

Kip comes hurrying out of his room, saying, “Thanks for waiting!”

Marissa and I laugh, because he’s acting so … excited. And I guess Kate likes the change in him, because when we stand to go, she gives Marissa and me hugs. And as she pulls away from me, she holds me at arm’s length for a minute and says, “Kip told me how hard you tried to help.… How can I ever thank you?”

I pull a little face and look at Ginger. “I think we can call it even. I did lock your sister out on the balcony.”

Kate laughs. “I’m guessing you thought you might be the next ones to disappear?”

“Yes!”

“And you ransacked the place looking for me? And Kip?”

“Yes!”

“So see? I do owe you,” she says with a little smile. “Anything. I’m serious. Just name it.”

I kind of eye her, because right before I fell asleep last night, there was something I was wishing for, but they definitely don’t sell it on board, and asking seems crazy.

She studies me. “What are you thinking?”

I just shake my head.

“Tell me!”

So I do.

And I explain it.

And she says, “Done.”

I laugh and say, “You can’t be serious,” and Kip goes, “Oh, you don’t know my grandmother.”

Kate gives me a smile. “I’ll have the delivery made to
your room. Now run along! Go have some fun!” Then she tells Kip, “Just be back in time for formal night! Our family is starting over tonight!”

So we jet out of there, and I’m thinking we’re going to go straight up to the buffet, but Kip stops at the stairs and asks, “What about Marko and Darren?”

“Kind of early for rock guys to climb rocks,” I tell him.

But Marissa agrees with Kip. “It’s our last day. They can sleep later.”

So the three of us beat on their door, and when Marko opens with a sleepyheaded “We on fire?” we all laugh and tell him, “Get up! We’ve got rocks to climb!”

“And clubs to swing!”

“And pools to invade!”

Marko looks worried. “Can we eat first?”

We laugh again and tell him we’ll meet him up at the Schooner Buffet. “And no dippy-dawdlin’ around!” I call as the door swings closed.

Up at the buffet, we spot JT sitting with his parents. “Whoa, he does not look happy,” I whisper. But from the way they’re all talking so seriously and from the huge dark cloud over JT’s head, I can tell that Kate’s right—they’re actually going to move to Africa. And it hits me how ironic it is that Kip’s grandfather brought him here to save him from a life of hunger and poverty, and now his own children are being told to move there to save them from lives of selfishness and greed.

Marissa grabs me and drags me along. “We are not thinking about or talking to any Kensingtons except Kip, you got that?”

So we sit as far away from JT’s family as we can, and in no time we’re joined by a couple of men in mustaches, dorky hats, and glasses. “Wow, that was quick,” I tell them.

“Don’t want to be missin’ out,” Darren says.

Turns out they did
everything
with us. From rock climbing to golf to ice-skating—which, believe me, was pretty entertaining to watch them do—to basketball and a cutthroat game of water hoops, Darren and Marko were there for every second.

Even if their mustaches did come off in the pool.

After that, Kip said he needed to get back because he had to figure out how to get his clothes and stuff for formal night.

When he took off, I eyed Marissa, because I knew she had to be scheming ways to get us to go to formal night. But she just eyed me back and said, “The buffet’s fine,” which brought a round of cheers from the rest of us.

So we just lay there, not worrying about anything, soaking in the late-day sun.

Which felt so good.

And
relaxing
.

And I’d actually been lying there long enough to be almost asleep when I hear Darren say, “I’ve been thinking.”

He’s in the lounger right next to mine, and sure enough, he’s talking to me. “Yeah?”

“About your mother.”

And here I was having such a good time.

“I could be pretty angry at her,” he tells me, “for keeping you from me all these years.”

I nod, and all of a sudden I’m realizing that, yeah, I
really
missed out.

Actually, I was
robbed
.

“But here’s the thing,” he says. “I like the person you are, and you wouldn’t be you without the experiences you’ve had. You wouldn’t be you without your grandmother’s influence or your mother’s lack of attention the last few years, or if you’d grown up as a rocker’s daughter. You would be somebody else.” He gives a little shrug. “And the truth is, I’m almost positive that I wouldn’t respect and admire and
love
that person the way I do you.”

All of a sudden, there’s a big ball of cement in my throat. And I can’t really
say
anything, so what comes out is a grunt.

I can be so articulate.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He smiles at me and says, “So I’m not going to dwell on what she did wrong. I’m just going to focus on how you turned out and be grateful that you’ve come into my life.”

Hearing him say that, I’m reminded that even though I always knew I had a dad, he had no idea he had a daughter—
who
he was was a surprise to me, but
that
he was wasn’t. And for some reason what comes out of my mouth is, “I used to carry your catcher’s mitt around with me everywhere.”

He sits up and flips up his sunglasses. “
You
have that?”

“I found it in Grams’ closet. It’s the only connection I had to you. So I kept it with me all the time.”

“Marko!” he calls across the loungers. “
She’s
got my mitt!”

“Dude, no, you’re serious?” He looks at me. “You have no idea the mourning he’s gone through.”

“Why?” I ask Darren.

“Marko and I were the battery on our baseball team, senior year. He was the pitcher, I was the catcher.”

“Dude, I told you to ask Lana if she had it! Remember that? I told you.”

“Yeah, you said it was probably a hate crime.”

“See?
See?
” Marko says, pointing. “You should listen to me more.”

I laugh, “Well, you can’t have it back, because I actually use it—Marissa was pitcher and I was catcher on our school’s team.”

“You’re serious?” Darren asks.

So Marissa jumps in with stories about our softball adventures—and believe me, there are some
wild
ones—and when we’ve talked
that
completely out, we all agree on one thing:

It’s time to eat!

So once again we hit the buffet for dinner, and once again Marissa makes us check out the show at the Poseidon Theater afterward. We actually stick around for the whole thing, too, because the ventriloquist/puppeteer guy is hilarious.

“Not as good as us,” Marko says on the way out, “but definitely worth the price of admission.”

And then it’s time to pack. And say good night. And
roll our luggage out into the hallway, where Marissa assures us it will mysteriously vanish and then safely reappear in a warehouse onshore when we “disembark.”

Walking into our room, I feel really … sad.

Like I’m waking up from an amazing dream and realizing it was just that.

A dream.

And then I see the box on my bed.

“No!” I gasp. But there’s no mistaking this box.

It says C
ONVERSE
right on it.

Marissa’s jaw drops and she says, “Wow, money talks, huh?”

I laugh, “No kidding!” I zip across the room and flip the lid open, and not only is there a pair of size 11 high-tops inside, there’s a multipack of Sharpies. “Holy smokes.”

“Well, I guess I know what you’re going to be doing tonight,” Marissa says. “You want me to do one?”

I shake my head.

And after I’ve done all my packing and everything I’m
supposed
to do, I sit cross-legged on my bed with Darren’s shoes in my lap and totally choke up.