Curse of the Arctic Star

  “Lovely to meet you,” the second woman spoke up. She was taller and a little older than the first, with a graying blond bun and a bright smile. “I’m Alice, and these are my friends Babs and Coral.”

  “You can call us the ABCs,” Coral spoke up with a titter. She was pleasantly plump and grandmotherly, with wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. “Get it? The ABCs—Alice, Babs, Coral.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said as I sat down between George and Babs.

  “Yeah.” George reached for her water glass. “I didn’t realize we’d be sitting with other people.”

  Babs chuckled. “This must be your first cruise, then?”

  “Yes, it is,” Bess said. “And please don’t be offended by what George said. She just meant—”

  “It’s all right, dear.” Babs waved one wrinkled hand dismissively. “If it’s your first time, a lot of things must seem rather strange.”

  Alice nodded. “But don’t worry,” she added. “The three of us are experienced cruisers. We’ll show you the ropes.”

  “Really?” Alan said. “How many cruises have you been on?”

  “Oh, dear, I’m not sure I can count that high anymore!” Coral giggled. “Let’s just say it’s enough that we should be able to answer any questions you may have. Right, girls?”

  Alice nodded, but Babs was looking across the dining room. “I think our last two tablemates have arrived,” she said.

  I glanced over and saw the hostess approaching again. When I saw who was following her, I elbowed George. “Hey, it’s the honeymooners!”

  “Who?” Bess and Alan asked.

  “Um, just someone we sort of met earlier,” George told them.

  By then the newcomers were at the table. Vince and Lacey both appeared to be in a much better mood than they had been the last time we’d seen them. Lacey looked lovely in a soft blue gown, and Vince was handsomer than ever in his dinner jacket and tie.

  Soon more introductions had been traded. “Honeymooners, eh?” Coral said, winking at the rest of us. “Don’t worry, we won’t mind if you need to kiss between courses.”

  Meanwhile Babs was leaning forward, peering at Lacey. “You look familiar, my dear,” she said. “Doesn’t she, girls?”

  Alice glanced over. “Oh, yes!” she exclaimed. “You don’t have a sister who works for Jubilee Cruise Lines, do you?”

  Coral gasped. “You’re right! Why, if Lacey had darker hair and blue eyes, she’d be the spitting image of that pretty young singer on our Caribbean cruise last year!”

  Lacey looked taken aback. “Um, no, you must be mistaken. I don’t have a sister.”

  Vince put a protective arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay,” he told her. Then he smiled at the ABCs. “She’s a little shy. Always gets tongue-tied when someone mentions how beautiful she is, even though it happens all the time.”

  “Well, of course it must!” Babs exclaimed, while Coral tut-tutted pleasantly.

  Lacey gave them a wan smile. “I only wish I was related to someone at Jubilee,” she said softly. “Maybe then we’d be on one of their cruises right now, instead of taking a chance on this brand-new untested cruise line.” She shivered. “I haven’t felt right since Vince and I spotted that body earlier.”

  “Body?” Alice’s eyes widened. “What body?”

  “Didn’t you hear what happened at the pool right before we set sail?” Vince asked.

  Coral leaned forward. “No, but do tell!”

  I traded a worried look with Bess and George as the honeymooners started describing what had happened. The cruise director might have smoothed things over earlier, but it seemed the gossip was still spreading.

  Just then there was a clatter from the next table. I glanced over and saw that Tobias, the bratty kid from our hall, had just dropped an entire tray of rolls on the floor. His father was scolding him while his mother bent down to try to salvage the rolls. Several waiters were already making a beeline for the table.

  “That kid causes a commotion everywhere he goes, doesn’t he?” George said.

  I nodded. I’d just noticed that Wendy the travel blogger was at the same table as Tobias. She’d traded in her casual granny dress for a pink tulle vintage prom gown and a headband with a large plastic flower on it. Her laptop sat on the table beside her plate as she chattered nonstop at the man sitting next to her. I wasn’t sure she’d even noticed the roll mishap.

  “Whoa!” Alan exclaimed suddenly, staring off in a different direction. “Do you see who I see?”

  As I glanced that way, a flash of color caught my eye. It was Mr. Hawaiian Shirt. He was sitting at another table with half a dozen other people. The others all appeared to be chatting and having a good time, but he was slumped in his chair, playing with his fork and looking fairly miserable.

  George saw him too. “Hey! That mustache guy we met earlier didn’t even bother to change clothes. So why do I have to dress up?” she complained.

  “Huh?” Alan glanced at the man. “No, look over there. It’s Merk the Jerk!”

  He was pointing toward a different table. “Merk the Jerk,” I echoed. “He’s a stand-up comedian, right?”

  “Yeah,” George said. “His real name’s Lou Merk. He’s had a couple of TV specials and been in a few movies and some online stuff.”

  “I suppose he must be part of the shipboard entertainment.” Babs peered in that direction. She sighed. “I’m just so disappointed that Brock Walker had to cancel!”

  Just then a pretty young waitress hurried toward us. “Good evening,” she said in a lilting Jamaican accent. “I’m Daisy, and I’ll be your server tonight.”

  “Daisy?” George grinned. “What, are all the ship’s employees required to have flower names or something?”

  Daisy looked confused, though she smiled politely. “Can I start you off with some drinks?”

  “Iris, remember?” George glanced around at Alan, Bess, and me. “That maid we saw earlier was named Iris, remember? Get it? Flower names?”

  Bess ignored her. “I’d love an iced tea with lemon,” she told Daisy.

  As the others gave their drink orders, I noticed several men with video cameras hoisted on their shoulders entering the dining room. “What’s going on over there?” I asked the waitress when she turned toward me.

  She glanced over. “Let me get the maître d’ so you can ask him.”

  Daisy walked to the front of the dining room and moments later returned with the maître d’ in tow. His name tag read MR. PHILLIPS. I repeated my question.

  “The camera crew?” he said. “They’re just the ad people.”

  “Ad people?” Bess echoed.

  “Didn’t you get the insert in your info packages?” Mr. Phillips looked troubled. “It should have been covered in there.”

  Vince glanced at his wife. “We got the insert.”

  “So did we,” Coral put in as her friends nodded.

  “That explains it,” Alan said. “See, we just won this cruise last week in an online contest. We didn’t have time to get any info packs in the mail or anything.”

  Mr. Phillips nodded and explained, “The company hired the crew to do some candid filming during this inaugural cruise—just happy guests enjoying themselves, things like that. The footage will be used for future web ads and such.”

  “We could be in ads?” George sounded interested. “Cool.”

  “I do hope you won’t mind being filmed,” he continued. “But of course anyone who doesn’t wish to take part should inform a member of the cruise staff as soon as possible.” Mr. Phillips excused himself and returned to his post.

  As Daisy finished taking our order and hurried off, I glanced again at the camera crew. When had they started filming? Could they have captured any footage earlier in the day that might help with the case? I made a mental note to try to track them down later.

  “That was delicious.” Bess pushed her chair back from the table about half an hour later. “If you’ll all excuse me, I ne
ed to go powder my nose.”

  Yeah, Bess actually says things like that. Without irony, even. What can I say? It works for her.

  “I’ll come with you,” I said quickly, dropping my cloth napkin beside my plate. “Uh, for the nose powdering, that is.”

  “Me too.” George got up and followed us.

  Soon we were in the ladies’ lounge. It was just as opulent as the dining room—plush carpeting, chandeliers, a wall of mirrors with delicate upholstered stools in front of them, the works. But I barely spared a glance for any of it.

  “Is anyone else in here?” I asked, peeking under the stall doors.

  “Doesn’t look like it.” Bess sat down at the mirror and pulled a compact out of her purse. “Why? Do you have any new theories?”

  “Not really.” I quickly told her and George my idea about talking to the camera crew. “You never know,” I said. “Maybe they caught someone carrying that mannequin around or something.”

  “Anything’s possible.” George sounded dubious. She was prowling back and forth across the lounge area, tugging at her dress as if it was choking her. “I guess this means you’ve decided there really is a mystery, huh?”

  “It’s sure looking that way.” I glanced around again, making doubly sure we were alone. “And that’s not all—I think someone’s onto us.”

  Bess stopped applying powder to her already flawless skin and glanced at me in the mirror. “Onto us? What do you mean?”

  “Something happened right before dinner,” I began. “I’ve been dying to tell you, but with Alan around . . .” I went on to tell them about the note in my suitcase.

  By the time I finished, Bess’s eyes were wide and worried. “That really sounds like someone was threatening you!”

  “Don’t sound so shocked,” George told her. “It’s not like Nancy’s never been threatened before. It kind of goes with the territory.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed. “But nobody’s supposed to know why I’m really here, remember? So who could have done it?”

  Before my friends could answer, the door swung open. Two giggling preteen girls rushed in with their middle-aged moms right behind them. Bess smiled politely, then stood up.

  “We should get back to the table,” she said, dropping her makeup back in her purse. “We don’t want Alan to worry.”

  I was disappointed. My friends are always good at helping me figure things out, and I really wanted to talk about possible motives and suspects. But another woman was already coming in, and I realized our private moment was over.

  “Let’s go,” I agreed with a sigh.

  The bathroom was located in a hallway between the dining room and the stairwell. As we headed toward the former, we passed a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. It was standing slightly ajar, and I could hear angry voices coming from inside.

  I paused, a little surprised. All the ship’s employees seemed to make a point of staying polite and cheerful anywhere passengers might hear. But whatever was going on just inside that door sounded anything but polite or cheerful. Most of it was too muffled to make out, though it sounded like two men arguing. Then one of them raised his voice.

  “Drop it, John!” he said sharply. “Or I’ll make sure you never make it to Anchorage!”

  My eyes widened. That sounded pretty ominous.

  “Hey,” I called to my friends, who were a few steps ahead. “Hang on, I want to—”

  “Ladies!” A loud, jovial voice interrupted me. Turning, I saw Marcelo, Becca’s boss, hurrying up behind me, a broad smile on his handsome face. “I hope you’re not lost. Can I have the honor of accompanying you back to the dining room?”

  “Sure,” Bess said with a smile.

  I glanced helplessly at the door. But it was too late. The voices had stopped, so I had little choice but to allow the cruise director to sweep us all back into the dining room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dangerous Games

  “YOU’RE UP EARLY,” I SAID AS I WALKED into the main room of the suite the next morning.

  Bess glanced up with a smile. She was sitting at the glass-topped coffee table, stirring milk into a steaming mug of tea.

  “You too,” she said. “Luckily, Max the butler gets up even earlier. He brought us these.” She waved a hand at the platter of bagels, doughnuts, and other pastries on the table in front of her.

  “Great.” I grabbed a glazed doughnut and took a bite. Then I wandered toward the balcony. The glass doors were open, offering a spectacular view of the shoreline we were passing as the ship made its way from Vancouver to our first shore stop in Ketchikan. Low hills draped in thick forests of pine and spruce tumbled to meet the sparkling deep-blue water, while in the distance, snow-capped peaks rose to meet the sky.

  “Nice scenery, huh?” Bess said. “I could stare at that view all day.”

  I shot her a rueful look. “Me too. Unfortunately we don’t have time,” I said. “Have you seen George yet?”

  Bess snorted. “What do you think? She’s not exactly a morning person, remember?”

  I grinned. “Understatement of the year. What about Alan?”

  “Haven’t seen him yet either. I guess he’s still asleep.”

  “Good. Let’s get George and get out of here before he wakes up,” I said. “This could be our best chance to talk freely.”

  Shooting one last glance at the scenery, I turned and led the way toward the bedrooms. We tiptoed past Alan’s door. The sound of loud snoring was coming from inside.

  Even louder snoring was coming from George’s room. We let ourselves in. She was curled up on her side, with her back to us.

  Bess leaned over and poked her cousin in the shoulder. “Rise and shine,” she whispered loudly.

  There was no response. I grabbed George’s foot and tickled it. She shot up into a sitting position.

  “Hey!” she blurted out.

  “Shh!” Bess and I hissed.

  George blinked stupidly for a moment, then glared at us. “What time is it?” she mumbled, making a move to lie down again.

  But Bess was too fast for her. Grabbing her cousin’s arm, she gave a yank that almost pulled her out of bed. “Get up,” she ordered. “We need to get out of here before Alan wakes up. Nancy wants to talk.”

  It took a little more persuading, but finally we got her up. Leaving her to get dressed, Bess and I returned to the main room. I quickly gulped down some coffee while she scribbled a note for Alan.

  “I’m telling him we’re checking out the spa facilities to see if we can get facials this morning,” she told me. “That should sound girly enough that he won’t want to join us.”

  “No. But he might wonder why George wanted to join us,” I joked just as George emerged, yawning and tousled, with damp hair from the shower and dressed in shorts and a River Heights University T-shirt.

  “Huh? What’d you say?” she demanded sleepily.

  “Never mind. Let’s get out of here.” I grabbed a jelly doughnut, stuffed it in her hand, then aimed her toward the door.

  When we emerged from the suite, the hallway was empty except for a maid sweeping nearby. It was Iris from the day before.

  “Hi.” I smiled at her as we passed. “Excuse us.”

  “Guess she must be assigned to Tobias’s cabin, like Max is to ours,” Bess whispered as we hurried around the corner.

  “Yeah.” I grimaced. “Poor thing.”

  I forgot about the maid as I led the way toward the elevators. “Where are we going?” George asked, sounding marginally more awake as she finished the last bite of doughnut and licked jelly and powdered sugar off her fingers.

  “Becca’s office,” I replied. “I’m hoping it’s still early enough to catch her there. I want to finish our talk and maybe get a look at that threatening e-mail she got before the cruise. I know it’s a stretch, but I might be able to tell if it was written by the same person who left me that note yesterday.”

  But when we knocked on Becca’s door, there was no answer. I texted her
and got a reply back within a minute or two.

  “Where is she?” Bess asked as I scanned the message.

  “She’s hosting some kind of VIP breakfast reception,” I said with a sigh. “Says she’ll be tied up for the next hour or two at least. Oh well.”

  “Does that mean I got up at the crack of dawn for nothing?” George complained.

  I ignored that. “Let’s go check out the pool,” I said. “Maybe we missed a clue yesterday.”

  But that was another dead end. When we reached the pool area, it was spotless. Any trace of “blood” was gone from the water, which sparkled like glass beneath the early morning sun. Every trash receptacle was empty and appeared to have been bleached clean. Even the pool chairs were arranged in perfect lines.

  Bess glanced into the same trash bin where George and I had found that drink mix container. “If there were any clues, they’ve definitely been cleaned up by now,” she commented. “The cleaning staff here mean business!”

  “Yeah.” My shoulders slumped as I considered what to do next. “Maybe we should try the kitchen. Last night I heard arguing . . . .”

  I filled them in on that snippet of argument I’d overheard as we walked. George looked dubious.

  “Do you really think some random squabble is part of our case?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Probably not. But you never know. We’re not exactly swimming in useful clues right now, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  The main dining room was hushed and empty as we passed. But we heard the sounds of activity coming from a door right across the hall.

  “That’s the café,” Bess said. “It’s where we’re supposed to eat breakfast and lunch. Dinner, too, if we don’t feel like being so formal.”

  “What?” George yelped. “You didn’t tell me that before you forced me to dress up like I was entering some girly-girl beauty pageant.”

  “Give it a rest,” I told her. “Wearing a dress for a couple of hours didn’t kill you, did it?”

  I glanced into the café, which in this case seemed to be short for cafeteria. The setting was much less formal than the dining room, with passengers choosing their food from a long buffet line, then finding seats wherever they pleased. There were quite a few early risers in there, helping themselves to eggs, Danish, or fruit salad. I even spotted Tobias’s parents, though the little boy was nowhere in sight.