Murder for the Halibut Read online

  Ray’s eyes lit up with gratitude. “I don’t know yet. The first thing we have to do is find Goose and hear his version. There may be a perfectly logical explanation for all this, but I seriously doubt it. In my experience on the job, if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck…”

  “Unfortunately, I agree,” Alex said. “But every now and then there’s an exception to that rule. I’ve never met Goose, but I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt until he has a chance to defend himself.” He cocked his eyebrow. “What does his next in command think?”

  “Orlando said it’s all starting to make sense. He mentioned that theft has been on the increase lately. Not on every cruise, but at least one or two every six weeks or so over the past year.”

  “Do you think he’s using the money to pay for his wife’s care?” Lola asked.

  Jordan’s heart warmed as she stared at her friend. Lola always tried to see the good in people. Like the time a woman from Ranchero was accused of embezzling from the local bank. Lola immediately wondered if the woman had a sick child at home and felt she had no choice.

  Until the Ranchero Globe posted a picture of the woman at a racetrack in Dallas.

  “Ha!” Rosie said, finally. “If there even is a wife with Alzheimer’s back in Miami.”

  After dinner, Alex and Ray left to meet up with Orlando at the security office. From the moment Alex had offered to help, it seemed like a weight had been lifted off Ray’s shoulders. As much as Jordan wanted the FBI man all to herself, she couldn’t help smiling, knowing this was one small way to give back to Ray for every nice thing he’d ever done for her.

  And he’d done a lot of them. Ray Varga had assumed the role of her adoptive father the first day she’d walked into Empire Apartments, and God help anyone who messed with her.

  Victor and the others were going to hit the sack after dinner to get ready for another early start the following morning when they docked at Saint Kitts. Without Goose setting them up with a driver and a tour, the plan was to hang out at the beach, do a little sightseeing and shopping, and then reboard the ship early.

  They wanted to take advantage of the Carnation Queen’s awesome entertainment in the theater tomorrow night where a comedian named Donnie Steinman was performing. Lola had done a tarot card reading for Donnie earlier in the week and had taken a shine to him. Said he’d kept her in stitches the whole time she was trying to read his cards.

  The gang was going to hit the seven o’clock family show in the theater, have dinner, and then go to an R-rated delivery in the Starlight Lounge at midnight. After that, Donnie was joining them in the bar for a few drinks.

  Jordan decided to wait for Alex in the Jacuzzi. As soon as he and Ray finished consulting with the acting head of security, he would join her for a little relaxation before she showed him how glad she was to see him.

  After walking back to the room with Rosie, she slipped on a bikini, wishing she looked half as good in it as Emily did in hers. That would all but guarantee Alex’s undivided attention. But no amount of hoping would fill out her purple and pink swimsuit the way Emily filled out hers.

  Thinking about Emily, Jordan made a mental note to call her new friend in the morning to see if she wanted to join them when they disembarked at Saint Kitts. She’d do whatever she could to convince her to take off her business hat at least for a few hours and just enjoy time with friends. The last several days had convinced Jordan more than ever that she’d rather be poor and surrounded by friends than rolling in money and alone.

  Stepping off the elevator, she stopped for a quick ice cream cone on her way to the spa. If tonight went as she hoped, she’d need a lot of extra carbs for energy. And ice cream always had a way of cheering her up.

  Because tomorrow was the last day ashore before heading back to Miami, most of the passengers were doing exactly as her friends were and calling it an early night. Consequently, the pool and Jacuzzi tubs were nearly deserted. She made her way toward the farthest one in the back, hoping for a little privacy for her and Alex.

  Approaching the tub, she was relieved to see only one other passenger enjoying the hot bubbles; to her delight, it was George Christakis.

  Perfect! It would give her another opportunity to tell him how much she appreciated his kindness earlier that week at the competition. He could have made a big fuss and exposed her for the fraud she was instead of slipping her a mint under the table.

  “I was just thinking about how nice it was soaking in the water, and now my night has gotten even better,” George said. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to get to know you better, Jordan. I’m guessing there is nothing dull and boring about you.”

  Jordan laughed, slipping off her cover-up and sliding in across from the famous chef. “Yes, if there’s any drama for miles around, I can promise I’m in the middle of it somehow.”

  He smiled. “I have to admit, I had a lot of fun watching you eat the sweetbread the other night. I sensed immediately that you were not a connoisseur of that kind of dish, especially after seeing how the other gourmet appetizers ended up in your spare napkin.”

  Her own smile faded. “You saw me do that?”

  He threw back his head and his laughter was loud enough to be heard at the other end of the deck where two middle-aged ladies were now staring at them.

  “Oh yes! When I told Jeremy—he’s my partner—about you, he laughed so hard he nearly cried. He made me promise to invite you to New York as our guest so he could meet you.”

  Jordan felt the tension in her shoulders ease up. “So, you’re not going to tell anyone and make a big deal of it?”

  “Why would I do that? Then I would have to sit next to that pretentious, arrogant ass for the rest of the competition.”

  Jordan chuckled. “I couldn’t have described Beau Lincoln any better.”

  George shook his head. “I rather enjoy having you as a buffer between us to keep me from telling him exactly what I think about him.” He paused and stared for a moment. “You remind me so much of Emily the first time I met her. She was young and timid, yet ambitious enough to take on the world. Although, I have to admit I’d be more than a little surprised to find one timid bone in your—”

  “Emily was timid?” Jordan interrupted. “That’s one adjective I would never use to describe her. The woman runs a multimillion-dollar talent agency, for God’s sake.”

  “I said she was timid when I met her,” he explained. “She walked into the restaurant about ten years ago when Chez Lui was just opening and trying to find its niche in the New York market. She’d recently moved to the city and was looking for a job while she finished her undergraduate degree at NYU.” He laughed. “She was probably the worst waitress I’ve ever seen in my entire life and only lasted two days before I had to fire her.”

  “You fired her?”

  He nodded. “She spilled a full carafe of my finest red wine on one of my best customers. It cost me several free meals to appease the old buffoon.”

  “So how did you become friends after that?”

  George raised both eyebrows. “It was a challenge, but I pride myself on having a great eye for talent. I knew the minute I met her that she was going to make it big some day. In what, I didn’t know, although I would have bet the farm it wasn’t as a server. So, I invited her to have dinner with Jeremy and me at our brownstone in Manhattan. I had no idea she would connect with our son Henri, who was eighteen months old at the time. There was instant chemistry between them. Immediately, we offered her a job as his nanny at a price that was way more than nannies were getting anywhere else. It was the best investment we ever made, and she eventually moved in with us. Even after she was accepted into law school at NYU, she stayed with us. Henri still lights up every time he sees her, though he’s no longer a small child.”

  Jordan hung on his every word. It was hard to imagine Emily ever being poor and timid. “She was so lucky to have found you and Jeremy.”

  Just then a waiter walked up and handed G
eorge a drink.

  “Do you want something, Jordan?” he asked while he signed the ticket.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so, but thanks. I’m waiting on a friend.”

  “Oh, come on. Have one little cocktail with me,” he insisted.

  What would one tiny drink hurt?

  “Okay, just one.” She turned to the waiter. “I’ll have a frozen margarita, please.”

  “Mexican or Italian?”

  She scrunched her brow. “Mexican or Italian what?”

  “Margaritas,” the waiter answered. “One is made with amaretto and the other with tequila.”

  “I’ll try the Italian one. It sounds yummy,” she said, thinking about the Italian guy she hoped wouldn’t spend too much more time fighting crime with Ray tonight.

  When the waiter was gone, she turned back to George. “Tell me more about Emily. I want so badly to hate her because of the way she looks, but I can’t. Although I think she works way too hard, I admire her for all she’s accomplished.”

  “She’s come a long way from that scared little girl who walked into my restaurant so many years ago,” George said. “She was so beaten down, it took a long time to build her self-esteem back up.”

  Jordan shook her head. “I assumed, like I’m sure so many other people probably do, that when you look like Emily and have accomplished all that she has, you must have been born with all that confidence. It’s hard to think of her any other way than as a successful businesswoman.”

  “Looks can be deceiving. And what about you? Were you born with all that confidence you exude?”

  “Oh, please. If you only knew the half of it,” she responded with a giggle, thinking about how terribly unqualified she was for her job as a culinary expert.

  “I sense there’s a story there, but it will have to wait,” he said as the waiter appeared and handed Jordan her drink. He chugged the last of his cocktail and reached for the refill. Before he settled back against the hot tub, Jordan already had the margarita to her lips.

  “I can’t believe I’ve never had one of these before. This could be my new favorite drink. Thanks.” She smiled up at the waiter.

  “Lorenzo, pop your eyes back into their sockets and say good night to the lovely lady,” George teased. “I have to agree, though, she is easy on the eyes.”

  The waiter flushed before grinning at George and then walking away.

  “Easy on the eyes?” Jordan repeated, taking another big sip of her drink. “Pain in the behind, maybe, but that’s the first time I’ve heard that one….”

  “Oh, pooh, you have to know you’re beautiful, both inside and out.” George reached across the hot tub to clink glasses with her. “Here’s to getting to know each other better.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Jordan said. “Especially if you promise to bring a pocketful of mints with you for the next leg of the competition.”

  “For you, my dear, always. And it will be our little secret.”

  Several drinks later, Jordan was feeling really relaxed with the hot bubbly water easing away the tension of the day. Sitting with the chef and sharing stories about growing up in West Texas made her forget she’d only just met him. It also helped to push the unpleasant events of the past week—like Stefano’s death and possible murder and Goose’s deception and thievery—out of her mind. And she’d almost forgotten Alex was taking his good old time getting to the Jacuzzi. If he didn’t hurry, this would end as yet another wasted night. She’d never been a big drinker and usually fell asleep after two drinks.

  She was on her third.

  The Italian margaritas seemed to slide down her throat as easily as soda pop. And sitting in the hot tub with George was so enjoyable, she’d allowed him to keep the drinks coming. No sooner had she taken the last sip of one glass than the waiter would appear with a full one. And she was beginning to like the feeling that George thought she was “easy on the eyes.” Thank God she didn’t have to worry about him hitting on her.

  “Where has Emily been hiding out?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “I haven’t seen her in a few days.”

  “That girl needs to learn how to play,” Jordan responded, sounding more like a mother hen than a concerned friend. “My guess is she’s been holed up in the business center communicating with people back in New York.” She sighed. “Sheesh! She’s young and single, and she should be out partying all night instead of slaving away at the computer.”

  George’s facial expression turned serious, and he studied Jordan for a few minutes before speaking. “How well do you know Emily?”

  “I only met her on the ship,” Jordan replied. “But we became instant friends. I know she was raised in Colombia by her aunt and uncle after her parents died.”

  George exhaled slowly. “Did she tell you her so-called missionary uncle treated her like hired help instead of part of his family—that she was never allowed to go anywhere or do anything because he made her work day and night at the orphanage?” His voice had elevated and was now angry. “For the life of me, I don’t understand how anyone can do that to a child, especially one related to you. She had just lost her parents and needed love and affection. From the minute they picked her up at the Bogotá airport, they made her their personal slave. And they never missed an opportunity to tell her they’d send her away if she didn’t do everything they asked of her. She said she was so exhausted by the time she crawled into bed every night that she didn’t even have the energy to cry.”

  “How awful. Poor Emily,” Jordan said when she was finally able to speak. “I had no idea. That could explain why she’s so committed to her work and has no friends. It must be hard to trust anyone after such an ordeal.”

  “Who has no friends?”

  Both George and Jordan turned as Alex slipped into the tub and promptly cupped Jordan’s face in his hands before planting a wet kiss on her lips.

  “So, this is your friend, eh, Jordan? You didn’t tell me how handsome he was.” The chef extended his hand. “George Christakis. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you yet.”

  Alex shook his hand. “Alex Moreland. I only came on board today in Saint Martin. It’s nice to meet you.” He turned back to Jordan. “Whoa! I recognize those glassy eyes. Have you been plying my girl here with drinks, Mr. Christakis?” he teased.

  “Call me George. And yes, we have discovered she loves Italian margaritas.”

  “You have to taste this, Alex,” Jordan said, shoving her glass his way before realizing it was empty. “Oops. Sorry. You’ll have to order your own.” She winked at George. “My turn to buy. Do you want the usual?”

  George stood, reaching for his towel. “Unfortunately, I’ve had at least two over my limit, Jordan. And from the way this young man is staring at you, I’d say three’s a crowd. If I don’t see you tomorrow, we’ll meet up the following night to taste desserts, for sure. I have a feeling none of those will end up in your napkin.” He pulled on a shirt. “Do you want me to send the waiter over on my way out?”

  “No thanks, George. I think it’s time I get this pretty lady to bed. I appreciate you keeping her company. Maybe she won’t be so mad at me for neglecting her tonight.”

  “It has definitely been my pleasure. But for the record, anyone who neglects this amazing woman needs to have their head examined.” George made eye contact with Jordan. “I hope our conversation tonight will remain between us. The drinks probably loosened my tongue more than I would have liked, but I sense you care for Emily as much as I do. She can certainly use a friend like you.”

  “What’s said in the hot tub stays in the hot tub,” Jordan said, laughing. “And thanks again for that mint, George.”

  “What was that all about?” Alex asked after George was out of site.

  “Long story,” she responded. “It will make for nice pillow talk later. For now, I want to know what you and Ray discovered tonight.”

  “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” he asked, ignoring he
r question. He touched her knee under the water and seductively massaged the tender area right above it, almost making her forget her morbid curiosity.

  Almost.

  “I guarantee I’m going to make sure you show me how much, but first, I’m dying to know what you found out about Goose.”

  Alex shook his head. “We skimmed through several hours of security tape and spotted him on the fifth deck around eleven o’clock two nights ago and then again on the Lido Deck that same night. After that, he simply vanished.”

  “And you’re sure it was Goose?”

  “Since I’ve never laid eyes on the guy, I have to trust Ray on that one. The man on the security tape wore a bright orange and blue checkered shirt that Ray said definitely belonged to Goose.”

  Jordan thought for a minute. “Goose told us a story about when his wife was in the early stages of her disease and bought him the shirt. He said he wore it so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings, but then she forgot she’d already bought it and came home with another one.”

  “It is pretty ugly.”

  Jordan’s mind had already moved on. “So how can someone just vanish from the ship?” she asked, before remembering her earlier vision of treading water and watching the ship move farther and farther away. “Could Goose have gotten drunk and fallen overboard?”

  Alex nodded. “That’s a big possibility, but for right now, we can only assume he’s still somewhere on the ship. Another possibility is that maybe he suspected someone was close to discovering his extracurricular activities in the passengers’ cabins. Knowing the ship the way he does, it makes perfect sense that he would be able to find a hiding spot and then slip off unnoticed in Saint Martin. Hell, he could be in Tahiti by now on a beach, sipping a drink with an umbrella.”

  Jordan stared at him. “You don’t think that’s what happened, though, do you?”

  Alex blew out a breath. “Unfortunately, the cop in me goes right to a more cynical scenario.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like Goose swimming with the sharks.”