Killer Knots (15 page)

“I’m glad you told him we’re off duty,” Vail said in a dry tone. His fingers made figure eights along her spine.

Her mouth curled in pleasure. “That feels good,” she murmured, edging closer.

He rubbed his hip against her. “Not as good as I’ll make you feel later.”

“Then stop that, or we’ll be heading back to the stateroom instead of the exit.”

Grasping her shoulder, he turned her to face him. “There’s nothing I’d like better,” he answered, giving her a fierce kiss.

The elevator’s arrival along with his teasing banter took her mind off the museum gang. Soon they found themselves in the Sailaway Lounge, where his parents had already obtained tickets for the tender. When their number was called, they descended to the gangplank deck. The small boat bobbed on the swells as crew members assisted passengers in boarding. Squeezed together on rows of benches, they jostled elbows while the engine revved prior to launch. Wind whipped the passengers’ hair as they got under way.

Waves splashed against the bow, the water an incredible shade of turquoise that made her impatient to dive into the bath-warm ocean. Sparkles of sunlight glinted off the crests as they neared the shoreline.

Kate shaded her eyes even though she wore a wide-brimmed hat. “Look, there’s a Royal Caribbean vessel anchored farther out. Their passengers are also coming in by tender.”

“Crap, that means the shops in town will be crowded,” Brianna griped.

“Brie, we didn’t come on this cruise just to shop. And please watch your language,” Vail remonstrated.

“Listen to your father.” Marla squinted behind her sunglasses. Even though they sat under cover, the sun’s reflected glare hurt her eyes. “Ladies don’t use bad words.”

“And you don’t? Give me a break. I’ve heard you say—”

“Brianna!” Vail’s authoritative tone brooked no arguments.

Giving him a disgusted glance, the teen shut her mouth. Nobody spoke, occupied with private thoughts. Marla, busy sorting the flyers she’d grabbed from their cabin, decided she didn’t need the one advertising facials in the ship’s spa. She gave Brianna the jewelry shop ads to browse while she studied the port guide and map. Vail, working on the ship’s daily trivia quiz, muttered to himself.

“Peachtree Street is in Atlanta, isn’t it? What about Via Veneto? It’s about famous streets,” he told Marla.

“That’s in Venice,” Kate contributed, applying sunscreen to her arms. She and John planned to take a taxi to the turtle farm. They’d been to Grand Cayman before.

Once on the pier, they separated. “We need to find our tour group,” Marla said to Vail and Brianna. “Do you see the van anywhere?” Their excursion included transportation to a marina, from which they would sail to the stingray sandbar. It had cost them forty-five dollars each for three hours. Finished by one o’clock, they’d have plenty of time for shopping later.

“Folks, can you stand together for a shot, please?” hollered the ship’s photographer, cornering them for a Welcome to Grand Cayman pose that would cost a mere ten dollars to purchase.
Buy enough photos, and you could pay for another cruise
, Marla thought, grinning at the camera. She almost felt sorry for the guy sweating in the heat while trying to snap photos of the milling passengers.

They located their van and boarded quickly. Inside, Marla tapped Brianna’s shoulder. “Head for the rear. I see a few empty seats back there.”

Sinking into an empty space next to the teen, Marla swung her large beach bag onto her lap. She’d brought enough supplies for a weekend, and it was a relief to get the weight off her arm.

“Have you noticed how cruises advertise their all-inclusive rates?” she said to Vail, who sat across the aisle. “You get room and board, port visits, and activities, but then you end up paying twice as much for drinks, tours, photos, shopping, and gambling. Your money goes down while your weight goes up.”

“Some would claim that’s a fair trade-off for a week of fun in the sun,” he answered in a mild tone. “Say, there go the Wolf-sons. Isn’t that the bus for the botanical garden group?”

She twisted her neck. “Oh, yeah. We won’t have to worry about where Bob’s going, then. At least not until later.” She watched the other passengers board, squinting as she caught sight of another familiar face. The elegant blond woman wore a snappy red outfit with a matching hat. Accompanying her was a white-haired man sporting a naval cap, dress shirt, and dark trousers.

“It’s Countess Delacroix and her gentleman friend,” Marla stated. “I wonder if she’s going along to put the screws on Bob to sell his property in Mexico. He isn’t aware that Sandy knows what’s going on, so that should be an interesting ride.”

Vail leaned toward her and said in a low voice, “Didn’t someone other than Kent Harwood say to watch him in Grand Cayman?”

“Bless my bones, you’re right. Martha said the same thing to Oliver. Damn, we’re on the wrong tour. We should have gone on theirs.”.

Her ponytail swishing, Brianna rapped on Marla’s wrist. “Listen to yourself, Marla. You just cursed. How can you tell me not to use bad words when you do it?”

Chiding herself, Marla rolled her eyes. “Some occasions call for them, honey, but you have to be careful which ones you choose.”

A motorized snorkel boat shuttled them to the sandbar two miles offshore. Marla sat with Brianna on an open bench in the rear but Vail preferred the shaded area up front. Since the rumbling engine made hearing difficult, Marla relaxed and enjoyed the ride. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of the fresh sea air and savored the sensation of skipping over the waves. The wind beat salt spray onto her skin, warmed by the sun.

I could get used to this. We’ll have to take a longer cruise next time
.

She snapped open her eyelids to regard the gleaming water, a lighter shade of jade in the shallow depths. Sweating under the tropical sun, she yearned to dive in, especially when the ocean turned a brilliant aqua as they got farther from shore.

When the boat reached their destination, certified guide masters distributed yellow life vests and gave an instructive briefing before cutting them loose.

Clutching her snorkeling mask and tube, Brianna brushed past her toward the swim steps prior to entering the water.

“Brie, don’t forget to inflate your life vest,” Marla called. They wouldn’t need it on the sandbar, three or four feet deep, but where they entered from the boat, the depth could reach over six feet.

Swimming came second nature to Marla. Her mother had given her lessons at a country club in New York, where she’d grown up. They’d joined the club every summer, and she’d been forced to participate in day-camp activities while her mother played Mah-Jongg and her father sat reading the
Wall Street Journal
. Up north, people didn’t have private pools like residents in South Florida. Child drownings were not a common cause of death for children aged four and younger there, either.

For a moment, she hesitated with her foot on the ladder while tiny waves splashed against the hull. Memories of a past tragedy surfaced to haunt her. If only she hadn’t answered the telephone call she’d been told to expect by Tammy’s parents when she’d baby-sat for the toddler. In those few seconds, the child had climbed from her playpen and fallen into the backyard pool.

“Marla, get a move on,” Brianna yelled from the water.

Gathering her courage, she plunged into the warm sea. The submersion sloughed off her guilt like a cleansing
mikveh
. “Be careful,” she hollered back, wary of stingrays after the Crocodile Hunter’s accident.

Several other boats bobbed nearby in the water. Small stingrays congregated by the sandbar as though knowing they’d get fed. Tiny fish squiggled past as Marla’s feet found the sandy bottom. She stood waist deep in the water and watched shadowy shapes glide in the current.

“Get some squid, Marla,” Brianna advised, sticking her hand into the bucket their driver held out. Her ponytail hung sopping wet, but the teen’s face radiated such joy that Marla’s own anticipation rose.

“Hold the bait like our guide said, or the stingray will suck your hand,” Marla warned. “Oh, yuck.”

Nearly dropping the slimy chunk of squid, she offered it as instructed. With her other hand, she tentatively touched the top of a stingray that swam close. Its skin felt like sandpaper. The creature allowed her to pick it up in her arms like a baby, but she held it out from her body, afraid it might suck on her flesh or sting her with its barb. Her fingers brushed its smooth underside before she gently released it.

Suddenly Vail was behind her, breathing on her neck. “You’ll have good luck for seven years if you kiss the thing between its eyes, fourteen years if it’s a male.”

She turned into his arms. “No, thanks, I’d rather kiss you.” Buoyed by the water, she did just that until Brianna tagged her.

“Stop it, you guys. We’re here to see the stingrays.”

“This feels so great. I could stay here forever.” Marla ducked down, dipping her shoulders in the warm water. Her companions mimicked her, and they joined hands and danced in a circle, laughing in a sea of contentment.

A holler from their guide brought them back on board their craft. After toweling herself dry, Marla bought rum punches for herself and Dalton and a water bottle for Brianna, plus bags of chips. Feeling sticky, she sat on a bench in the shade and sipped her drink. The boat rocked back and forth, making her queasy. Or maybe she just needed salt replenishment after their exertion. After eating a few potato chips, she addressed the others.

“We could go back to the ship to shower.”

“Don’t be such a wimp, Marla.” Brianna, munching on a Dorito, shot her a glance. “We still have a few hours for shopping.”

“Yeah, but we’re missing lunch,” Vail griped between them.

“You would think about food!” Afraid she’d get too sunburned, Marla put down her plastic cup and wrestled her T-shirt over her head.

“I could meet you back at the ship,” he said, with a hopeful grin. The engine kicked in, and their vessel turned into the wind. They picked up speed and soon bounced over the waves.

“No way, Daddy,” Brianna cried over the ensuing noise. “You promised me a pair of Gucci sunglasses.”

Marla glanced at him in surprise. Usually he tried to restrict his daughter’s spending. “Where do they sell those?” she asked, digging into her bag for the port guide. “Hey, here’s a place where we can grab a quick meal,” she told Dalton, pointing to the map. “It’s just off Harbour Drive. That’s the main drag, so we can wander into the shops from there.”

“Sounds good to me,” Vail said, patting her knee.

Two hours later, Marla stood on the corner of Edward Street near the post office, burdened by several packages and stuffed from eating a grilled burger. She’d spent nearly an hour in the Tortuga rum shop, where she, Brianna, and Dalton” had agreed to meet his parents. Spying an opportunity to get gifts for people at home, she’d bought a selection of rum cakes, tropical coffees, jerk sauce, rum fudge, and liquors.

“Dad and I will meet you down the street,” Vail said, his face pinching in a look of impatience. He hadn’t bought much, just a couple of books on plant life and island history, a souvenir mug, and a pack of hot sauces. “We’ll be inside the artifact store. Dad wants to see the antique treasure coins.”

“Marla,” Kate said, drawing her attention before she could comment, “there’s the duty-free center on the next corner. Didn’t you want to look at their Sorelli jewelry and Swarovski collection?”

“I wanna go in Toucan Tango first,” Brianna said, tugging on Marla’s elbow. “It has some cool souvenir stuff, and I’d like to get a beach towel. I could use another pair of flip-flops, too.”

“Okay, but the duty-free store might have the Guess watch that you want.”

They hustled from store to store, adding purchases, which the men dutifully carried as they shuffled along until John called it quits.

“I’m going back to the ship,” he announced, his shoulders sagging with fatigue. “It’s getting late, and I thought I’d join the virtual reality golf tournament.” His eyes scrunched behind his spectacles, as though he were already imagining himself swinging the club.

“Aren’t there any art places here where you could solicit customers for your stained-glass work, dear?” Kate asked him in a tentative tone.

Marla exchanged a glance with Vail. Well, this was new. She watched John for his response.

The older man coughed. “Irene recommended only one gallery, and I didn’t bring samples along.”

“You could mail them from home.”

“Nah, this place designs pieces in black coral, and the other art galleries in town sell name-brand china and crystal. Believe me, it’s not worth the effort.” He waved a hand in dismissal.

“If you say so.” Kate’s meek tone was so unlike her that Marla gave her a sharp look.

John must have known his wife was trying to please him because he smiled and thrust an arm over her shoulder. “We can get a sundae at the ice cream bar if you come back with me,” he offered.

“Sure thing. I’d like that. Brie, have you finished shopping yet?”

Brianna gave Marla an imploring glance. “I still haven’t found a place that sells the new Britney Spears perfume.”

Marla had in mind a gift she wanted to get for Vail, but she needed to lose him beforehand. “And I’m not done either. We missed the Treasure Chest and Hot Tropics.”

Vail groaned. “Don’t you have enough souvenirs?”

“Look, why don’t you catch the tender with your parents? I promise we’ll be on the next one.”

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

“She won’t be alone, Daddy. I’ll be with her. Can I use my credit card?” Under Marla’s urging, he’d broken down and added his daughter to his credit card account.

He scrutinized Marla’s face, while she plastered on a loopy grin. She was careful not to betray her thoughts with any tells, a term she’d learned from Vail. She didn’t show a single twitch, lose eye contact, or move her hands.

“Understand that I’ll come back for you if you’re not on board by four o’clock.”

“Then we don’t have much time. Let’s go, honey.”

She’d satisfied Brianna’s needs and was on her way to buy the crystal stingray she’d seen in one of the gallery windows, thinking it to be the perfect remembrance for Vail of their first cruise together, when she nearly collided with Bob Wolfson, emerging from a bank building.

“Marla, what are you doing here?” He sprang back and grabbed his midsection, a panicked look on his face. Was it her imagination, or had he gained a few pounds in the waistline? Then again, it might just be his wide belt that added the illusion of weight. Or maybe she’d only seen him in loose-fitting shirts before that covered his waistband.

“We’re shopping. Where is Sandy?”

He held his abdomen until he realized she was staring; then he dropped his arm. “We’ve been here before, so Sandy went back on board the ship after our tour. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way before this heat gets to me.” Sweat beaded his brow.

Marla stood in his way. “Is it true that you cruise here every year?”

He gave her a startled glance. “Who told you that?”

“Countess Delacroix, or was it Helen? Sorry, I can’t remember.” She winked at Brianna, hoping the girl would play along. “I’m just so fascinated that the countess owns vanilla plantations,” she babbled. “The land in Mexico has been in her family for generations. I can understand why she wants to buy the adjacent piece of property to expand their operations.”

“What’s your point?”

Where are you getting the money to buy territory in a foreign country? Is the IRS aware of your purchases? Do your visits to Grand Cayman have anything to do with their offshore banking business?

As she sought a tactful way to pose her questions, she was grateful when Brianna cut the silence.

“Marla spotted the countess talking to your wife in the casino,” Brianna said, her expression giving nothing away. Vail’s face also froze into a mask when he questioned suspects, Marla realized. His daughter was becoming a chip off the old block. “Like, it’s so cool that you shmooze with royalty.”

“Madame Delacroix isn’t royalty, kid. She’s a nuisance who won’t take no for an answer. She wants a piece of my nest egg, and I’m not giving her any part of it.”

“Is there anything I can do to help convince her in your favor?” Marla offered, hoping Bob would elaborate his angle.

“Nope.” Scratching his jaw, he regarded her with a puzzled frown. “At least you try to understand. Nobody else gives me that respect. No one.”

“I could understand the game a lot better if you’d tell me the rules.”

He grabbed Marla’s arm. “What you don’t know won’t hurt you, Marla. You too, kid. I may be playing with a curveball, but other folks out there are playing for blood. Stay with your family, and you won’t get in the way.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Brianna said after Bob left them standing in front of the bank.

“Brie, I don’t like your language. Who are you hanging out with that’s using those words?”

The girl shrugged, her ponytail swinging. “It’s no big deal. Everyone my age uses them.”

“Is that so? Well, I don’t want to hear bad words from your mouth, understand? It upsets me, and if you hope to earn respect in the work world someday, you’ll keep your speech clean. As for what’s going on with Bob Wolfson, I wish I knew.”

She dropped the subject during their foray into the nearby Colombian Emeralds store, where Marla bought the crystal stingray. Cruise passengers bustled in the last-minute rush to buy souvenirs before the day’s end. Back outside after making their purchase, Marla and Brianna watched a seagull squawk overhead, soaring beyond the traffic, tourists, and construction.

Marla’s clothes stuck to her back, and she was grateful for the ocean breeze as they trudged toward the harbor. They hopped onto the last tender heading for the
Tropical Sun
. She had just enough energy left to escort Brianna to her grandparents’ cabin before seeking Dalton and a hot shower.

He bounced up from their bed when she burst into the stateroom. “Thank God,” he cried, reaching her in two quick strides. Grasping her shoulders, he gave her a kiss that was both fierce and passionate. She sniffed his fear for her and sidestepped momentarily to plop her bags onto the couch.

Wrapping her arms around him, she melted into his strong embrace and savored the feeling of having someone care for her.

“I saw Brie safely to your parents’ cabin,” she said after they broke apart. She slipped her T-shirt off her sweaty body and grimaced. “Yuck, I need to get washed. Then I’d like to grab a snack. Did you eat already?” Her stomach rumbled, and she felt weak from dehydration. No way would she make it until dinner two hours from now.

Vail gave her a sheepish grin. “I already ate chicken wings and fries out on deck.”

“Figures. I just want something light, like fruit. Oh, we ran into Bob Wolfson,” she said, wriggling out of her bikini after removing her shorts. “He was coming out of some bank building. The guy wasn’t too happy to see us.”

“Why not?” Vail regarded her from beneath his thick eyebrows. His gaze intensified as he perused her nudity.

“I don’t know what he was doing inside, but he seemed to have gained a few pounds. His belt was buckled on its last hole.”

Vail snickered. “Mine will be too, after a few more meals aboard ship.”