Death on the Bella Constance (A Jesse Watson Mystery Series Book 6) (12 page)

Bella and
Savannah
smiled, and then Bella said, “Herbal
tea, my dear. It’s supposed to relax you… do away with the tension. It works
wonders for seasickness. I drink it frequently. It helps my stomach relax. You
can’t live with a man like Loukas and not have some kind of stomach disorder.”

“Why, Bella,” I said, teasing. “I thought you and Loukas had
a great relationship. What’s the deal?”

“We do, but after almost fifty years, the things that never
bothered you before, start to bother you. Sometimes, I just want to pull out my
hair… and his.” She started laughing.

Savannah
and I couldn’t restrain ourselves. We started laughing, and between the two of
us and Bella, we turned into uncontrollable laughing puppets. It was
embarrassing… yet, oh so funny. Passengers were starting to stare, but that
just made us laugh more.

“We have… to stop… or I’m… going to… pee myself,” Bella
finally managed to say.

That made us laugh even harder. Our laughter must have been
catching, because some of the passengers joined in. The laughing fits we all
had suffered through finally wore themselves out, and everything was getting
back to the normal.
Lot
of talking. Lots of buzz.

“I think I’d like something a little bit heavier,” I said as
I pushed my salad plate aside, and stood up. “I want red meat!” I could tell my
voice was getting louder, and my enthusiasm more intense, but that was okay,
because I wasn’t seasick anymore. As a matter-of-fact, I felt fine.

Until…

I saw Maggie heading our way. She was not the same woman I
had met a day earlier. She had a crazy, drugged-out look on her face, a plate
in one hand, and a raised fork in the other. She was out of control. She
screamed obscenities as she pushed people out of her way to get to us. She was
moving so fast that she couldn’t stop in time to avoid bumping into our table.
Everything on the table rattled, glasses tumbled over, and what was left of my
cup of tea landed in my chair.

“What’s the matter, Maggie?” I asked in a condescending tone,
hoping she’d get a grip on herself.

She dropped the plate on the table, and then took the fork
and used the tines to pick at what appeared to be the beginnings of a sizable
cold sore on her lip. She poked at it again, and this time drew blood.

“Stop it!” I commanded. “Don’t do that! What’s the matter
with you? Are you on some kind of medication?”

“It’s him!” she yelled. “He’s the one! He’s got my daughter!”

All of us turned and looked to where she was pointing.

“Peter!” Maggie screamed above the noise of the crowd.
“Where’s my daughter?”

A guy dressed in brown cargo shorts and a flowered Hawaiian
shirt turned to look at us. That was probably the first time he had been caught
off-guard—his first mistake. He turned back to the salad bar as anyone would do
if whatever was going on didn’t involve them.

But he was too late. We all knew who he was. The telltale
turning and looking directly into the eyes of the caller gave him away. He knew
the voice; that’s what had gotten his attention. He was busted.

Maggie jabbed at her sore repeatedly, smearing blood across
her lip as she did. She raised the bloody fork, turned, and ran toward Peter
Dawson. She barreled into him with the force of a linebacker, grabbing his arm,
and then snatching him around to face her. She raised her hand higher, and then
plunged the fork deep into the left side of his chest.

Peter Dawson fell to the floor—the fork still in his chest.

Instinct kicked in. I grabbed the linen napkin off the table
and ran to him. By the time I made those fifteen or so steps, several crew
members had already restrained Maggie Anderson. I bent down and pressed the
wadded-up napkin to the wound as best as I could considering he had a fork
sticking out of his chest. She had stabbed him so hard with the fork that the
force of the blow had bent the handle.

“You’re going to be okay,” I said. “Help is on the way.”

I could see
Savannah
and Bella out of the corner of my
eye. They were standing back out of the way with their arms around each other.
They were obviously shaken. I know I was. But that was nothing compared to the
spine-tingling feeling I got when Peter Dawson raised his head and whispered
into my ear, “That so-called glitch in the elevator… was me.”

He smiled an eerie, Satan-like smile, reached over with his
right hand, and then pulled out the fork. He didn’t even flinch.

I sucked in my breath and almost choked as I let go of the
blood-soaked napkin. I stood up, and backed away in fear—a gnawing fear that
was taking over my body. A chill ran up my spine. I’ve been scared before, but
not like this. This time it was different… as if I… we… had been stalked. If
Teresa had really been a victim of this man, I now knew how she must have felt.
The fear was over-whelming.

But as hard as I tried, I didn’t believe she was a victim,
and it made me angry—angry that she faked a very real situation—as if it meant
nothing. It takes a mighty callous person to pull off something like that. I
grabbed a napkin from the closet table and wiped the blood from my hands. I
felt dirty and in need of a shower.

Peter Dawson showed no emotion as the response team prepared
him for transport. He would be taken to the
Med
Center
for treatment, and then released
back out into the wild where he could hunt us down like a lion stalking his
prey. Once a stalker…

Something had to be done.

Captain O’Riley walked over to us and said, “I just arrived.
Are you ladies all right?”

Before Bella or Savannah had a chance to speak, I stepped in
and said, “Captain, I want you to get a couple of those big guys over there,
whom I can only assume are your bouncers in crew uniform, and have them escort
Bella and Savannah to their rooms.” I looked at the two ladies and said, “Just
trust me on this one.”

They nodded in agreement. They were probably too scared to
make any rational decisions on their own, so they went along with my demand
without complaining.

I looked at the captain and continued, “You and I need to go
to my stateroom and have a talk with my husband. Right now. I’m sure you have someone
who can control this situation here.”

Captain O’Riley agreed, and then motioned to the men I had
pointed out. They were given strict orders about their roles in protecting Mrs.
Constance and Savannah Kelley, and seeing to it that they safely returned to
their rooms.

“Post one of them at each of their doors,” I commanded. “For
at least one hour.”

“You have your orders,” the captain said to the men. “Make
sure nothing happens to these ladies.”

Savannah
seemed to be coming unhinged. She shuddered as she began to rant. “I can’t
believe this! We haven’t been at sea two whole days yet, and we’ve already had
one person die, Nell almost died, and another person was injured by a drunken
woman.” She looked at Bella and said, “Sorry, Bella.” She looked back at the
captain. “And now this. A crazed passenger stabs another one with a fork… at
the buffet table… no less. What next? A shooting? We all know everyone on this
gun-free ship has a gun.” Her voice was getting louder by the second, and tears
spilled onto her cheeks. “I have one!” She turned and asked a passenger, “How
about you? Are you armed as well?” She looked back at the captain and asked,
demanding to know, “And when are we going to dock? There’s a storm out there
that’s sure to kill us if some psycho on board doesn’t get to us first!”

“That’s enough,” I said to
Savannah
as I stepped in closer to her, gently taking her by the arm,
and pulling her to me. “Get it together!” I whispered. “I know you’re scared.
We all are.” I looked at Bella for support, and she shook her head in
agreement.

“You’re Savannah Kelley, for Pete’s sake! These people are
your fans, and they expect more out of you. They look up to you. You’re a
celebrity. Now, pull yourself together and act like one.”

Savannah
took a deep breath, and looked around slowly. She wiped her tears away and
smiled that lovely smile of hers, saying to anyone who was listening, “I get
scared sometimes. Even when I’m working on a book, I can get freaked out by
some of the things that come out of my head.”

That statement pleased the crowd. The minute onlookers heard
that she was terrified by the unfortunate events recently, they went wild. The
response team had just taken out a man who had been stabbed by an
uncontrollable madwoman, yet here they were applauding their idol… which only
goes to reinforce my opinion of
Savannah
.
She has the charm and know-how to appease anyone. And she can pull it together
quicker than a speeding bullet. That takes star quality. I was proud to call
her my friend.

Once Peter Dawson had been removed from the dining room, and
Maggie Anderson had been led out by two of the captain’s men, a sigh of relief
passed everyone’s lips.

“They’ll take Mrs. Anderson to a holding room until we can
figure out what to do,” Captain O’Riley said as we walked through the crowd to
the exit. “As for Mr. Dawson, yes, we found out that he lied when he registered
as Perry Dickerson. His injury will be attended to.”

“Maggie needs medical attention, not detention.”

“I’ll get the doctor to check her out.”

We walked the wide hallway until we reached the elevator and
then stopped. Captain O’Riley turned to us and said, “After your last
experience in this elevator, I know you all must be a little anxious about
riding in it again, but you need not worry. We had a computer glitch. It’s the
first time it’s ever happened, but my men have corrected the problem. It won’t
happen again.”

“So, you know about that?” Bella asked. “I knew you were on
top of everything. I figured the sudden stop would register on your computer. I
hoped it would. I didn’t say anything to my friends, but I had planned on
reporting it to you after we had a chance to sit down and compose ourselves.
Now, I guess I won’t have to. You already know.”

What I knew, and the captain didn’t, was that Peter Dawson
had caused the elevator to stop. I would tell him as soon as we had an
opportunity to speak privately. I didn’t want to upset Bella and
Savannah
further. Peter Dawson wasn’t going
anywhere for a while, and my two friends could use a chance to settle down
before I sprang this on them.

“I think I’d rather use the outer walkway,”
Savannah
said. “Another incident such as
that, and I’ll have a nervous breakdown.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Kelley, but we don’t have a choice,” Captain
O’Riley said. “The storm is catching up with us, and I’ve had to issue another
warning to the passengers. No one will be allowed on any of the outer walkways
until we have cleared the storm. It’s not safe out there. My crew is putting my
plan into action as we speak.”

“We can take the stairs, can’t we?” I asked.

“I’m not scared!” Bella said. She reached over, pressed the
button, and then grabbed
Savannah
’s hand. “Come on, girl. We can do
this.”

The door opened, and the two of them stepped in.

“Come on!” Bella commanded. “I don’t want to be in here any
longer than I have to either.”

Captain O’Riley, the two bodyguard/bouncers, and I
immediately followed her order, and stepped into the elevator. She pressed the
button for deck six, the door closed, and the elevator started moving. Within a
few seconds, the elevator stopped, and the door opened again. We exited as if
our coattails were on fire. I’m sure it would’ve been funny for anyone
watching, to see six people scamper out of an elevator as if they had seen a
monstrous-size cockroach, but funny it was not.

Chapter 12

We parted ways, each going to our
separate rooms. Captain O’Riley stood watch until Bella and
Savannah
were safely inside with a guard
posted at each of their doors, and then followed me.

As soon as I scanned the keycard and entered the room, I saw
an empty bed. I called out Billy’s name.

Billy walked out of the bathroom with shaving cream on his
face, and a towel wrapped around the bottom half of his body. The first thing I
thought of was how sexy he looked. Even after all the melodrama around me, I
still had the urge to admire my man. Hmm…

“Please excuse my appearance,” Billy said to the captain as
he walked over, kissed me on the cheek, and then shook the captain’s hand. He
looked back at me and asked, “Have you been a naughty girl today? I see that
the captain had to bring you home.”

“Funny… ha… ha.”

“Please excuse me for a minute,” Billy said as he walked back
to the bathroom to finish getting dressed.

“You go ahead and put on some clothes. Perhaps the captain
and I will discuss the stabbing at the buffet table.”

Two minutes later, while the captain and I stood waiting,
Billy came back out of the bathroom barefoot, wearing a pair of blue jeans, and
a towel hanging from his neck. His damp, long, black hair glistened against his
olive skin. His brown eyes sparkled in the light. He looked so sexy! My mind
was not on my fears anymore as I winked at him in an effort to be seductive. He
didn’t even pick up on it. Instead, he winked back, reached down, picked up the
shirt off the bed, and then slipped into it.

Overwhelming lust on my part would have to wait.

“You didn’t stab anyone, did you, `ge ya? I know it’s hard
for you to avoid the criminals out there. They seem to attach themselves to you
like a magnet on a refrigerator door.” He smiled at the captain. “She tries to
behave, but…” Billy was being silly and light-hearted like he does when he’s
sure there’s something he’s going to hear that he doesn’t want to.

“You can relax,” I said. “I didn’t stab anyone, but Maggie
Anderson plunged a fork into Peter Dawson’s chest.”

The smile left Billy’s face. “Is he going to be all right?”

“I’m sure he is,” I replied. “He’s too evil to die.”

I could almost see Billy’s mind racing. I’ve seen that look
many times. That’s how his brain operates. You tell him something like I just
did, and he takes that information, tears it apart, and then pieces it back
together again, coming up with a complete scenario that either connects to
something else, or is in itself the answer to the question… within a matter of
seconds. Well, maybe not that quickly, but it seems that way to me.

“He’s at the
Med
Center
,”
the captain said. “I don’t think the wound was very serious.”

“I assume this meeting is about what’s been going on,” Billy
said. “I suggest we start at the beginning. I’ll go first.” Billy walked over
to the computer, hit a few keys, and then said, “I can show you all the
evidence I’ve gathered if you want to see it, but I can cut to the chase a lot
faster.” He hit several keys on the computer, and a slideshow of photographs
slowly scrolled across the screen. He explained as the pictures appeared. “This
is Jimmy Carlson—the man in room 608 who was the first casualty. In the limo
from the airport in
Newport
News
to
Norfolk
, Loukas got a call on his cell phone
from someone who either wanted to warn him that he was in danger, or send a
death threat. Loukas didn’t know which one it was. That call has been traced
back to a cell phone belonging to Jimmy Carlson. Jimmy Carlson is… or was… the
new head of personnel with Constance Enterprises. He’s definitely not a peon. I
think his death ties into the ongoing threat on Loukas’ life somehow. There’s a
connection somewhere. I’m convinced of it.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Doesn’t Loukas have Caller ID on
his cell?”

“It came up only as Private Caller. You know—no number listed
so the caller’s identity can be kept private.”

“Not to change the subject, but I wanted to tell you that all
the champagne glasses have tested positive for poison,” Captain O’Riley said.
“What kind of poison hasn’t been determined yet, but it won’t take those guys
long. We still don’t know the identity of the person who had the champagne
delivered, but my crew members were the ones who were to distribute them. They
all said that their carts were setup and ready for delivery, so they just did
their job. All we really have to go on is the actual printout of the delivery
orders, and regrettably, the signature is nothing but scribble.”

“What about your camera surveillance?” Billy asked. “Did you
check the video for that area?”

“Yes, I did, but unfortunately, there had been a blackout for
some reason. It went unnoticed for fifteen minutes. It was a busy time. My guys
had their hands full and were doing the best they could. The camera was only
down for a very short while.”

“Just long enough so that the perpetrator could get in and
drop off his package of lethal poison disguised as very expensive champagne.
The timing was perfect. Camera down—package delivered.”

The captain turned, looked at me, and said, “I apologize for
the computer glitch in the elevator. My crew determined that it most likely
came from an electromagnetic surge caused by the storm.”

“I knew there was a conspiracy going on here!” I said.
“Downed cameras. Elevator mishaps. I hesitate to imagine what will go wrong
next.”

“What glitch?” Billy asked, looking at me with concern on his
face.

“The elevator stopped between decks, and the lights went out
just for a minute,” the captain offered. “No one was in any real danger.”

“I’ll have to disagree about the danger and that electro
surge thingy,” I said. “Peter Dawson intentionally stopped the elevator. He
told me so while he was lying on the floor with a fork sticking out of his
chest. That was just before he reached over and snatched it out. That gesture
alone makes him certifiable. He’s playing games. He was only trying to frighten
us, because if he wanted to hurt us, he could have done so very easily. The
man’s crazy.”

“If he told you that he did it, he most likely would’ve
bragged about how he did it. Did he?”

“No, he didn’t, and I didn’t think to ask. I was too shocked
watching him jerk out that fork without showing the least sign of suffering.
But now that I’ve had time to think about it, I think he might’ve had a remote
control device—one of those small, handheld types. That way he could be
anywhere he wanted to be when he set it off. It’s the only thing I can come up
with that makes sense. He might still have the remote in his pocket. Can you
call the
Med
Center
and see if he’s still there? If he is, perhaps they can give him a sedative and
then search his pockets.”

“I’d like to add that it might be a good idea to give him a
large dose,” Billy offered. “We need to keep him under control. If we can keep
him sedated for a few hours, it would give us time to do a few things.”

“Like what?” I asked, wondering what Billy was up to.

Not wanting to show his hand in front of the captain, all
Billy said was, “Private Detective things.” Then he gave me the look. The look
that said he didn’t want to reveal all his suspicions to anyone but me. He
would share information, but never divulge everything, using the tricks of the
trade that has kept him alive.

Once again, Billy had shown me that his trust lies with me,
first and foremost... above all else!

Liking the idea, and without batting an eyelash, Captain
O’Riley walked over to the ship phone, and made the call. Once he ended the
call, he looked at us and said, “That’s done. What next?”

“Has Maggie been seen by the doctor, yet?” I asked. “I’m
concerned about the self-inflicted wounds she has around her mouth.”

“Doc sent two of his people to check her out.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said. “Where’s Teresa Anderson? The
crew took Maggie away, Peter’s probably sedated by now, and Teresa hasn’t shown
her face. Something ain’t right. In case she might really be a victim, I say we
find her, before it’s too late. And if she’s not a victim, I say we put her in
a room with her mother, and let the two of them go at it!”

Past events were starting to come together, piece by piece,
as the three of us discussed the problem. At least one situation might be
fixed. All you can do is tackle one problem at a time.

A thought came to me. “If Peter Dawson does have the
capability to mess with the elevator, he could also black out a camera. I think
we can add him to the list of suspects.”

“I don’t see the connection,” Captain O’Riley said. “He
boarded the same time as the rest of the passengers.”

“He could’ve hacked in before he boarded. He could’ve had
inside help. Isn’t that how a conspiracy works?”

“We’ll see,” Billy said. “For now, let’s concentrate on
locating Teresa.”

“During Maggie’s outburst in the dining room, she said her
daughter was missing, and accused Peter of kidnapping her.” I stated, telling
my take on the situation. “I don’t know what to believe. I go with what I see,
and I’m telling you that poor woman was on the brink. You saw her, captain. She
acted like a lunatic. And after seeing the photo of Teresa and Peter together
all lovey-dovey, I don’t believe he’s a stalker at all. I think they’ve got
something going, and the mama doesn’t know. Maybe the mama was the one behind
the stalking charges filed against Peter. Perhaps Teresa is too weak and
couldn’t fight her mother by herself, so that’s where Peter came in. Together,
they devise a plan to push the mama over the edge. At her age, I’m willing to
bet Maggie is on some kind of medication. If so, I think one of them has
tampered with it. Maggie Anderson could be hallucinating.”

“I saw the video of Peter and Teresa, and she didn’t look
much like a willing participant to me,” Billy refuted. “I found that kind of
odd. Where’s her mother now?”

“We have her in a holding room, separated from the rest of
the passengers,” the captain replied. “I didn’t think we’d ever need a jail,
but I was wrong. This is the first time that we ever had to lock up a
passenger.”

“I have a feeling it won’t be the last time on this cruise.”

The captain looked at me. “She is getting proper medical
attention. I just want to reassure you of that, Mrs. Blackhawk.”

“While they have Peter Dawson at the
Med
Center
, we’ll go search his room,” Billy
said. “If Teresa isn’t there, we’ll go check her room, and at the same time,
check out Jesse’s theory about the medication.”

“I can get my security team to help in the search. Ret. U.S.
Marshall Bob Wagner is the head of security. He’s one of the best in his field.
We’re lucky to have him.”

“Just hold off on that, captain,” Billy said. “No need to
bring them in on it just yet.”

“What else?” the captain asked.

“Although, nothing has happened to him so far, we know there
is a real threat on Loukas’ life,” Billy said. “Jimmy told him so.”

“Maybe Jimmy was the good guy after all,” I suggested. “He
sure wasn’t the mastermind though, or he wouldn’t be dead. Find the link, and
we’ll have our bad guy. I’d go with Utah Hawks. He’s the one to watch. I’d put
my money on him.”

“Let’s go search Peter Dawson’s room while we still can,”
Captain O’Riley said.

“Yes, I think that’s our first priority at the moment,” Billy
said, agreeing. “I want to question Teresa, but first we have to find her.”

“I have a few questions for her, too,” I said. “I’d like to
know what she was secretly doing in Peter’s room for an hour and ten minutes
yesterday afternoon.”

Teresa and Peter’s tryst came as no surprise to Billy and the
captain. The captain showed very little emotion, but Billy’s concern that
Teresa was being coerced into doing something she didn’t want to do bothered
him. I saw it on his face.

The ship phone in our room rang.

Billy walked over, picked it up, and spoke. When his
conversation was finished, he turned to us and said, “That was Bella. She wants
us to come to her stateroom… you, too, captain. McCoy and
Savannah
are already there. She wants us to
join her for a very late lunch, and to talk about what’s happening. I told her
we’d be there as soon as we checked out something. She was okay with that.”

“We’d better hurry then,” the captain said. “Nobody keeps
Bella Constance waiting.”

“I’ve noticed,” I admitted. “She has a power over people.
Everyone adores her. I know I liked her from the get-go.”

Ten minutes later, we were standing in front of the door to
room 527. The captain swiped his keycard, opened the door, and the three of us
walked in. We spread out, and in prime investigative form, started rummaging
through Peter’s stuff.

Billy immediately went to the computer setup on the table,
the captain checked the bathroom, and I started going through the drawers.

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