Dangerous Allies (The Ruby Danger Series Book 1) (3 page)

M
ila held
both hands over her ears, wincing as backup beepers echoed off the cavernous steel walls and the rumble of forklifts resonated in her chest. Ducking behind a wall of crates, she peered at the Apollonis’s huge marshaling area through a gap in the stacked provisions. A white-uniformed petty officer signaled a worker near the far wall, but the officer was looking away from Mila. She could chance it. She darted out from behind the boxes and turned right.

“Look out!”

A forklift truck stacked with melons swept past her with inches to spare. The truck halted with its engine chugging. The driver, who wore a hard hat and earmuffs, looked over his shoulder at her. Shaking his head, he pointed to the exit. Mila splayed her fingers in the air and mouthed
five minutes.
The driver shrugged and moved on.

With the departing forklift as cover, Mila sprinted to the wall on her right and stopped to scan the vast room. Where was Dimitri? Checking her pocket to make sure its precious contents had not fallen out during her dash from the door, she stood on tiptoe to survey the area. There was no sign of her husband among the thousands of boxes, bins, and barrels. Mila had often heard the ship’s tour guides count out the massive amounts needed to feed two thousand guests on a week-long cruise: two hundred and fifty pounds of cheese, twenty thousand pounds of fresh vegetables, nine thousand eggs, eighteen thousand pounds of beef, two hundred tubs of vanilla ice cream. Today, all that and more stood in her way.

The petty officer turned in Mila’s direction and she scrunched down behind large blue barrels marked
grease.
On her left, about twenty paces away, was the cold storage room. The kitchen staff stored the chopped fruit for rum punches and other umbrella-topped beverages in the cold room. Dimitri went there to replenish the stock in the promenade bars, so it was worth a look.

Mila jogged over, tugged open the heavy door and parted the plastic strips that kept the frigid air from escaping. Inside, she strolled along the narrow aisles of metal shelving, rubbing her goose-bumped arms.

“Looking for something?” a voice said behind her.

Whirling, she almost bumped into a heavily muscled man with a black brush cut, knitted brows, and a hissing cobra tattooed on his cheek. Mila shuddered. Why did she have to run into Bogdan, of all people? She glanced sidelong at the door. She had been trying to escape notice, but a petty officer’s arrival at this moment would be a relief.

“I’m looking for my husband.”

Mila ducked around Bogdan, who stretched out his arm to the nearest shelf to block her passage.

“You should be working.”

“I am working,” she said, trying to push his arm away from the shelf. “Please. I will be late.”

“Why do you want Dimitri?”

“I have to … tell him something.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s personal.”

Bogdan cocked his head, running a hand up her arm. “How personal?” His dark eyes glittered under the lights.

Cringing, she turned her head away. “Please. I have to go.”

He closed his fingers and thumb around her arm and squeezed.

“What are you stealing?”

“Nothing.”

“No?” Releasing her arm, he slid his hand around her waist and yanked her closer. “I think you are. I think I will report you.”

“Let me go. I am doing nothing wrong.” Mila struggled to break free.

Bogdan pinned her arms against her sides and spun her around, pulling her against him so tightly that the metal buttons of his starched white tunic dug into her back. His torso was hard and unyielding and her frantic wriggling only tightened his grip.

Her heart hammered in her chest.

“Let me go.”

“Or what?” he hissed. “You will tell Viktor? You will tell your uncle?” Bogdan bent over her, grinning as she turned her head away. He slid one hand down her stomach, his splayed fingertips digging into her flesh, and rammed his hand into the front pocket of her uniform. Shoving her away, he stepped back triumphantly. A diamond pavé hair clip glittered in his hand.

“What is this?”

“It’s mine.” She reached for it.

Bogdan laughed and held it above her outstretched hand. Mila hopped up, but he dangled it out of her reach.

“It is not yours. Where did you get it?”

“It was a gift.” She tried to reach it again.

“Mila.” He shook his head. “Not everyone is as stupid as Dimitri. Where did you get this?” When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her upper arm and squeezed. She flinched and tried to pull away, but his fingers gripped her flesh like talons. His eyes narrowed.

“Is this more of Ruby Delaney’s jewelry?”

“No, of course not.”

With a snort of derision, he released her arm.

“Did you put the earrings back?”

“Yes,” she whispered, rubbing her wrist and staring at the floor. “She will think they dropped from her bag.” Frowning, Mila recalled the cash strewn across the bed in the Emperor Suite. If she misses them at all.

Bogdan thrust the jeweled clip in front of her face.

“Is this why you are looking for Dimitri? To give him this?”

“No. I told you, it’s mine.”

She had intended to ask Dimitri to hide the clip until the owner noticed it missing. Then she would accept a small reward for finding the misplaced jewelry. It was a simple scheme, but it had worked before. And now Bogdan was messing it up, just as he had earlier with the earrings.

She looked up at him.

“Why do you care, anyway?”

“Viktor has plans for Delaney and her husband. He does not want trouble.”

“That has nothing to do with me.”

His eyes flashed and Mila took a step back, her heart pounding.

“You think because Viktor is your uncle, you can do as you please,” he hissed. “If you screw this up for him—” He glared at her.

Mila held her breath. What were they planning?

“—you and Dimitri will be tossed off the ship, without pay.” Bogdan grabbed her arm again, yanking her close, and bent his head to her ear. “But you may get another chance when this is all over.”

Leering, he slipped the clip back into her pocket and walked out.

Mila’s arm was burning, and she shook out her hand as she watched him leave. Naturally Bogdan assumed she meant to keep the jewelry because that’s what he would have done. The diamonds in that clip would pay for an entire year of Sergei’s tuition, but she wasn’t a thief. She sighed. There had been a time when she wasn’t a liar, either.

Mila narrowed her eyes, watching the door. What had Bogdan meant,
When this is all over?

R
uby flinched
as a woman in a blue smock ripped off a strip of her pubic hair.

“I’m sorry,” the aesthetician said, “did that sting?”

“No, not at all,” Ruby said, dabbing at her eye. Actually it stung like hell, and the extra-strength Advil she had taken on her way to the spa wasn’t working. But she was too distracted to care. She reached for her cellphone and checked the screen. Hari still hadn’t returned her call.

“That was the last,” the aesthetician said. “We’re ready for the crystals.” The woman, whose toothy smile rivaled the sunshine flooding through the spa’s windows, pushed the hot wax to one side and pulled over a tray of tiny glittering glass disks. “Let’s see,” she said, sizing up the newly plucked area, “you want to spell
R-u-b-y D-a-n-g-e-r
?”

Ruby looked up from her phone. “What?”

“
R-u-b-y D-a-n-g-e-r
? That’s what you said when you made the appointment yesterday.”

Eying her phone, Ruby nodded. Why hadn’t Hari called her back?

“That’s a lot to fit in,” the aesthetician said, picking up tweezers and a jar of cosmetic adhesive. “I’ll start in the middle, with
D-a-n
, so it will be even.”

Most of the time Ruby enjoyed her tabloid name. During the endless empty days of rehab, she had looked forward to visits from Felicity bearing the latest tabloid stories. She couldn’t remember which publication had changed her name from ‘Delaney’ to ‘Danger’ after she was fired from the set of
Family Album
, but the name had stuck. ‘There’s no bad publicity,’ Felicity had reminded her solemnly, before they convulsed into spasms of helpless laughter. Better to laugh than cry, Felicity always said.

Ruby jumped as her cellphone rang. She reached for it and looked up.

“Do you mind if I take this? In private, I mean?”

“Go ahead. I’ll come back.” The aesthetician snapped off her latex gloves.

“That’s not necessary.”

“But we’re not finished your vajazzling.” Raising her eyebrows, she glanced down. Ruby followed her gaze.

“Oh.” She pursed her lips. Frankly, a steamy second-honeymoon joke was no longer at the top of her to-do list. “I think that’s enough. It looks great.”

After the door closed behind the aesthetician, Ruby jumped off the table and tucked the phone into her shoulder while she wiggled into her clothes.

“Hi, Felicity.”

“What do you think of the screenplays?”

Her agent always got right to the point. Ruby decided to be equally direct.

“They’re awful.”

“What are you talking about? I thought one or two had real potential. The vampire musical is good.”

“Are you kidding? The writing is terrible.”

“It’s only a draft, and the producers are keen to get you.”

“How keen?”

“We didn’t talk money.”

“I want main billing or I’m not doing it.”

“Of course.” Felicity paused. “There’s always stage. Have you thought any more about that?”

“No. I mean, I might want to get out of New York for a while.”

“Uh-huh. How is Antony?”

“What do you mean? He’s fine.”

“Be careful what you say to him, okay? Maybe curb that natural exuberance a bit? No stunts?”

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

“And Ruby?”

“Yes?”

“No flirting.”

“Felicity! I don’t flirt.”

“Oh, please. You forget how long we’ve known each other.”

Ruby chuckled, but Felicity’s rebuke had stung. Not even her agent and best friend thought Ruby Danger could behave herself for long. She slid the phone into her handbag and headed out the door, longing for a drink.

W
hen Ruby emerged
from the elevator on the top deck, Mila and Bogdan stood in the hall outside the Emperor Suite. The maid listened with a pained expression as Bogdan gripped her upper arm and hissed something in her ear. She winced and tried to pull away.

He released her and looked up as Ruby approached.

“Miss Delaney,” he said, “can I do something for you?”

Ruby bit her lip. She should stay out of this. She should curb her exuberance. She should—oh, what the hell. Why start now?

“Yes. You can stop bothering that woman. You have no right to touch her.”

Mila stared at her. Bogdan’s eyes narrowed.

“What did you say?”

“I said, leave her alone.”

“This is not your business.”

“Is it the captain’s business? Because I’m more than willing to tell him you’ve been mistreating a member of his crew. In fact, we can go there right now.”

Bogdan stretched to his full height and glared at her. Then he smiled.

“Is misunderstanding only. Mila has fallen behind in her work, and now some guests do not have clean rooms. We have been discussing this.” He turned to look at the maid. “Is that not so, Mila?”

She nodded and looked down at the carpet.

“Then that’s my fault,” Ruby said. “I asked Mila to move a few things in our suite this morning and I kept her too long. In fact, I still need a little help, if that’s okay with you.”

She had attempted a friendly tone, but Bogdan did not return the sentiment.

“Whatever you need, Miss Delaney,” he said, turning abruptly and walking away. As he stepped onto the elevator, he turned to face them. Ruby suppressed a shudder at the look on his face.

After the elevator doors hissed shut, she motioned to Mila to follow her into the Emperor Suite. Once they were inside, Ruby closed the door, leaned against it, and waited for her heart to stop hammering.

Mila gave her a puzzled glance.

“Why did you tell him that?”

Ruby looked around the room, but there was no sign of Antony. She tried to smile at Mila.

“We women have to stick together, right?” She pushed herself off the door and walked down the hall with a forced casual gait. “You should stay here until he calms down,” she said over her shoulder.

In the master bedroom, she flung her baseball cap onto the vanity and slumped before the mirror. Leaning on her elbows, she sunk her head into her hands. Hari had not called her back. Antony had not returned to their suite. And down the hall, twenty million in bearer bonds waited for … what?

The door slowly swung open.

Ruby leapt to her feet, knocking over her chair.

“Who’s there?” she called, her heart pounding.

Mila stepped through the door, clutching the handle of her cleaning cart, and gaped at her.

Ruby closed her eyes and waited for her chest to stop heaving. “Sorry. I thought …” She opened her eyes and chuckled. “I don’t know what I thought.” Righting the chair, she sank back into it and stared into the mirror, trying to calm down.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“Not at all. Come in,” Ruby said, searching the cluttered vanity. Ahh. She wrapped her fingers around a warmish half-empty gin and tonic and took a long swallow. Then she twisted around, leaning an elbow over the chair’s back, and watched while Mila stripped off the bed linens and tucked a fresh sheet over the mattress. The maid’s delicate features were etched with worry lines and her pale complexion hadn’t seen much Caribbean sun. Ruby tossed back the gin and placed her empty tumbler on the glass-topped vanity with a clink.

Mila looked up at the sound and Ruby smiled at her.

“You’re from Russia, aren’t you?”

“How do you know?”

“I’m an actor, so I have to do accents. I can even speak a little Russian.” Ruby cleared her throat.
“Izvinitye, ya plokho ponimayu po-russki.”
She giggled at the surprise on Mila’s face. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it was good.”

“Thank you.” Bowing her head, Ruby extended her hand in an exaggerated curtain call. “At least I made you smile. Where in Russia are you from?”

“Moscow. My husband also works on the ship. He said it would be like vacation.” Mila fluffed the pillows, flipped the bedspread back up over them, and shook her head. “Is not vacation. We work fourteen hours each day, and when I finish with the rooms I help in the laundry.”

Ruby had heard several hard-luck stories since boarding and assumed the staff played for sympathy to boost their tips.

“That must be difficult,” she said with a sympathetic nod.

As Mila extended her arms to smooth out the bedspread her short sleeves rode up, revealing ugly purple bruises. Frowning, Ruby walked over for a closer look.

“How did you get those?”

Mila tugged her sleeve down. “It’s nothing.”

“Did Bogdan do that? Because if he did—”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

Ruby stepped back and then turned to the closet, slid a pink cardigan off its hanger and held it out.

“Take this. It’s the perfect weight for the air conditioning on this ship and it will hide those bruises.”

Mila hesitated and then reached for the sweater, pulling it on and pushing the sleeves up to her elbows.

“Thank you. I will return it.”

“No, no, keep it. It’s last year’s, anyway.”

Mila ran her hands along the silky fabric.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Ruby sat on the bed and slipped off her sandals.

“No problem. Where do you and your husband live now, Mila?”

“Toronto.”

“Really? That’s where I’m from. More or less.”

“You are not American?”

“My father was American, but I was born in Canada. I have dual citizenship. And two … passports.” Ruby slumped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, remembering the contents of the safe.

“Miss Delaney?”

“Yes?”

“There are gangsters here,” Mila blurted. “I think you should know this.”

Leaning on one elbow, Ruby raised her eyebrows. “Here in this room?”

“No, no. On the ship. They are from Russia.”

Ruby smothered a smile. Gangsters. Really. She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, and nodded.

“Noted.” She ambled over to the vanity and picked up a lipstick.

“These men are dangerous. They kill people.”

Bending to the mirror, Ruby ran the lipstick across her mouth, replaced the lid on the tube, and studied Mila in the glass. It was rare to meet a stranger who didn’t want something from her. An autograph, an embarrassing photo, an introduction to her husband. What was this maid after? She ran a hand through her hair and tossed her head. Money, most likely.

“Are you in trouble, Mila?”

“Not me. You.” Mila stared at her.

This time Ruby made no attempt to stifle her laughter.

“Why should I be in trouble? I don’t have anything to do with gangsters.”

“The man across the hall. I recognize him.”

Ruby tilted her head, recalling the beefy man in a Hawaiian shirt who occupied that suite. He hadn’t looked particularly menacing.

“How do you know he’s a …?” She wrinkled her nose, making a face. “What are they, exactly?”

“They are called
vor v zakonye
. I saw this man talking with your husband.”

“So? We’re neighbors on this ship. That doesn’t make him a criminal. Anyway, what would gangsters want with me?”

“They are watching you.”

“Watching me? Why?”

“You should get off the ship.”

“Excuse me?”

“At the next stop. Pintado Island.”

“Wouldn’t these
vor e
whatever follow me?”

“Not if they think you are dead.” Mila spoke so fast she was barely understandable. “Last year, a woman fell off the ship and was never found. But what if she did not fall? What if she left the ship without anyone seeing?” Mila put both hands on her hips.

Ruby blinked, trying to keep a straight face.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “But you can’t walk off a ship like this without someone noticing. There’s security everywhere. And how else would you leave? On a helicopter? I think the other passengers might notice that.”

“There are ways. Please, think about it.”

Mila locked eyes with her for a moment and then ducked her head, grabbed the handle of her cart and headed for the door.

Ruby watched her leave and then rolled her eyes. Gangsters on a cruise ship. That was a new one.

I
n the supply
room down the hall from the Emperor Suite, Mila replenished the towels on her cart, the tiny bottles of shampoo and hand lotion, the bars of lavender soap, and the coffee pods, decaf and regular. Then she pushed the cart back out into the hall, locked the supply room with the key card hanging from her uniform, and headed down the corridor to the next stateroom on her list.

She didn’t like working aboard the Apollonis, but it had one thing in its favor. Scrubbing toilets and making beds gave her time to think. And lately, she’d been thinking about a day in Moscow years earlier when Viktor had insisted that she and Sergei leave Russia. It had been only a week since their parents’ murder and Mila had been too numb to wonder why her uncle insisted on taking them thousands of miles from home. He said it was to keep them safe. But perhaps it was only to keep them thousands of miles from the truth.

Now Viktor was planning something for Miss Delaney and her husband, people who had never done him any harm. Mila sighed, stuffing sodden towels into the basket on her cart. She already regretted her blurted warning.

Bogdan was right. She should stay out of it.