Killer Knots (8 page)

Greenery cascaded over a stone building to Marla’s left, while ceiling fans rotated overhead. Listening to the New Age music playing in the background, she felt her tension ease. A warm breeze caressed her skin like a kiss from the ocean.

“John said he wasn’t hungry and would meet us in the liquor store,” Marla said, hoping to wipe away the worry lines on Kate’s brow. She didn’t like to see dissension between them.

“Dad needs some space,” Vail told Kate. “He says you nag him all the time to do chores at home, and he has his own things to keep himself busy.”

“Yeah, and they don’t include me.”

Sensing Dalton’s mother was about to deliver a diatribe against her husband, Marla cut in.

“Hey look, there’s Helen! Looks like she’s tagging along with the Wolfsons. I’m glad she didn’t stay on board the ship.”

“That’s nice,” Vail said in a resigned tone. “So, Brie, what are you getting to eat?”

“I just had a hot dog, Dad,” Brianna said, as though he were the dumbest person on earth. “This is, like, totally a waste of time. We could be shopping already.”

“We’ve got all afternoon,” Marla reassured her. Feeling relaxed, she ordered a rum punch and a vegetarian pizza from the waitress, who was wearing an apron over black pants and a T-shirt. Dalton ordered shrimp and asparagus pasta, while Kate got a salad and Brianna just had a Coke. Bristling with impatience, the teen kept glancing toward Main Street, where bustling shoppers crowded the sidewalk.

“Can I see your map?” the teen asked Marla, sweeping her hair back and retying her ponytail.

“Sure, honey.” She dug into her tote bag. “I brought these coupons from the ship, too. Here’s one from Diamonds International. You can get a free charm bracelet there. Someone mentioned Cardows for jewelry and said they have a discount section in the back. If you want to fill this card out, we might win a reversible ring.”

“Can you put that stuff away?” Vail announced. “Here come our drinks. Besides, I don’t want Brie to turn into a shopaholic, like you.” His tone held no censure, just amusement.

Nonetheless, Marla pursed her lips. “Be grateful I like shopping at outlet malls and sales racks.” She sipped her rum punch, tasting the liquor with approval. She hated ordering a mixed drink that cost a lot and held nothing more than sugar water. She’d better drink it slowly, or she’d be too sloshed to recognize a bargain when she saw one.

After lunch, Vail and his mother hustled off toward Main Street to hunt for John, while Marla and Brianna tackled AH Riise. She’d meet her fiancé later inside the immense store that held jewelry, crystal, cosmetics, designer eyewear, liquor, perfume, and Caribbean gifts, among other things. Stepping inside, Marla felt she could spend all day in this consumer palace. Located in a series of restored nineteenth-century Danish warehouses, the family-owned business that began as an apothecary had turned into a maze of duty-free wares to tempt the traveler.

Dazzled by the display cases, Marla had to ask for directions to the David Yurman boutique. She helped Brianna make her selection and then wandered into other departments to compare prices with those at home. Over by the watches, she spied Bob Wolfson trying on a Rolex. She knew the brand because his wife was haranguing him that they couldn’t afford it.

“It’s perfect for you,” said Helen, simpering beside him.

Sandy Wolfson gave the redhead a venomous glare. “Don’t you want to look at the skin care products? You could use a more effective foundation to hide your wrinkles, if you’re trying to look younger.”

Helen lifted her chin. “
You
might want to visit the fashion department, darling. Your wardrobe could use updating.”

Seeing the thunderous look in Sandy’s eyes, Marla hastened over. “Oh, hi, Helen,” Marla said brightly. “Can I get your opinion on something?” Taking the woman’s arm, she steered her away before she could protest. Sandy Wolfson cast her a grateful glance before turning back to her husband.

Checking to see that Brianna had rejoined her grandparents and Vail, Marla directed her attention to Helen Bryce.

“I’m glad you decided to come into town. Any further news on Martha’s situation?”

The museum’s head docent shook her head. “Not a thing. I didn’t see the point of staying on board. The ship’s security staff is doing everything they can to track her.”

“That’s good to hear. Listen, Dalton and I want to shop for wedding rings. Do you have any recommendations on where we should look?”

Helen shrugged, her slim shoulders boosted by shoulder pads inside her turquoise top. “Your guess is as good as mine. It’s more a matter of finding what you like.”

“So you’ve been to St. Thomas before?” Marla asked.

“Oh, sure. Bill and I came here on several cruises. In fact, this is where I got my emerald ring.” She held up her hand, wriggling her fingers.

“How long has it been since…?”

“Bill passed away two years ago.” Helen smiled, the corners of her eyes creasing into tiny lines. “I’ve made a life for myself. It’s lonely at times, but I have my sons. If only I hadn’t messed with their futures.”

“What do you mean?”

“I sold something I should have kept for them. I didn’t think I could get it back until I got that note on my cabin door.”

Marla’s interest piqued. “What note?”

“It was addressed to me personally. I don’t understand how someone could have learned my secret.” Helen leaned forward, lowering her voice. “If I tell you, you’ll keep quiet, won’t you? I have to talk to someone about it.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“I sold my life insurance policy to an investor. I made a mistake, but I needed the money. I’m in a better position now, and I’d like to buy it back, but I can’t locate the buyer. That note means he may be on the cruise.”

Marla almost burst with curiosity. “And the note said…?”

“I know what you did and I have what you want.”

I got the same note on my door, only mine was addressed to Martha Shore. At first, I thought the sender had spelled my name wrong.” Marla regarded Helen’s stunned expression. “I wonder if everyone from the museum got one.

“Holy macaroni. That’s weird.”

Marla leaned against a jewelry counter. “I’ve been thinking what it must mean. And now…”

“What?” Helen prompted.

She tilted her head. “All of us, if you consider I’ve been getting messages intended for the gift shop manager, have received personal invitations to the art auctions. It’s highly likely they’re from the same person who put the cryptic note on our door the first day of the cruise.”

“Okey dokey, I see where you’re going with that train of thought. It would have to be someone who knows all of us.”

“More than that,” Marla pointed out. “This person knows everyone’s cabin number. I don’t see how that’s possible unless it’s a crew member.”

“Eric Rand!” Helen gasped.

“I’ve thought of him, since Eric is the ship’s auctioneer plus your former curator.” She scratched an itch on her arm. “Obviously, he’s aware of your interest in art, but how could he have learned you’d all be on the cruise together unless he sent the tickets? Is he that financially well-off?”

Helen’s eyes widened. “Not that I recall. He made a decent salary as curator, but I have no idea what these art galleries pay their people. Anyway, how would he have learned about my life insurance transaction?”

“He wasn’t the buyer, was he?”

“Well, it actually went through a broker.” Helen gripped Marla’s arm. ‘If there’s any chance I can buy back my policy, I have to do it. I had no right to take away my sons’ security. They’ll need that money if anything happens to me. Kate says you’re good at solving mysteries. Help me regain ownership.”

“I’m not sure what I can do.”

“If Eric isn’t involved, it has to be one of us, someone who knows our secrets. But why tease us with that note?”

“The message might be meant as a threat. Your secret may not involve anybody else, but who knows what other people are hiding? Someone brought all of you on board for a purpose.”

“You’re right.”

Helen waved at Sandy and Bob, who’d reappeared schlepping several bundles. They halted by the Lalique counter, while outdoors beyond the open doorway, a jitney rattled past on the crowded street. “Take Bob, for instance. I know what he’s up to, but his stupid wife will never figure it out.”

“Oh really, and what’s that?”

Helen’s eyes glittered. “Martha was the one who clued me in. She said Oliver questioned her about some gift shop items that were on the expense record but weren’t in her inventory.” She smoothed her slate gray pants. “Bob needs someone more adventurous like me who can appreciate a risk taker.”

What? How did Oliver’s remarks relate to Bob
? Marla stared at Helen as the woman stalked off after her prey. Bob, adjusting his eyeglasses, squared his shoulders at her approach.

Deciding to look for her own group, Marla sauntered into the liquor department, which also housed Caribbean gifts. She caught sight of Brianna studying a selection of silver hook bracelets and hurried over. “Hi, hon. I’d love to buy you one of these. Do you see a design you like?”

Vail and his dad were in a debate over different brands of rum, while Kate had wandered toward an alleyway where works of native art were displayed. Glad to have a moment alone with the girl, Marla draped an arm across her shoulder.

“That one with the dolphin is neat,” Brianna said. “Do you think it’ll go with my David Yurman bracelet?”

“Why not? You can wear more than one on your wrist.”

“Grandma bought me these earrings,” Brianna said, reaching into her purse. Vail had finally consented to allowing his daughter to get her ears pierced.

“Those are lovely,” Marla said, admiring the teardrop design in white gold.

“Hey, Marla,” Vail said, approaching, “Mom says we should go into Ballerina Jewelers for wedding bands.”

She swallowed, feeling the nuptial noose tighten around her neck. “I just want to get this for Brie; then I’ll be ready to move on. See if the bracelet fits, honey.”

After making her purchase, she parted ways with the teenager and her grandparents, who’d promised to stop by the beach before heading back to the ship.

“I’d like to get something for your mom,” she told Vail as they headed across the busy street. Squealing brakes competed for decibels with car radios and motorcycles. Fresh sea air dispelled the exhaust fumes but not the heat vapors that rose from the asphalt. Respite from the sun came only in the shade from awnings or palm trees.

He guided her with a hand on her midback. “How much more time do you plan to spend here? I don’t want to be late for dinner. They have lobster on the menu tonight.”

“Are you thinking of food again? We just ate.” Marla shook her head. Men had large appetites, both for sex and for meals.

“I’m always hungry. Let’s look in here.” Inside the jewelry store, he asked for the recommended salesperson. “We’re interested in wedding bands,” he said, his voice firm.

Marla remained silent. Was she ready for this step? Getting wedding bands meant a commitment, and even though she wore a diamond engagement ring on her finger and they’d put a down payment on a house together, she’d hesitated to set a date. Now there would be no avoiding it, and she already had enough on her plate between moving into a new salon and furnishing a new home. Then again, for Brianna’s sake, she and Dalton should be married before they merged their households.

“Shall we get yellow or white gold?” Vail asked, jarring her thoughts.

“Uh, I’d like white gold this time.”
Bite your tongue, Marla. You shouldn’t have put it that way
. Vail wasn’t too fond of her ex-spouse, Stanley Kaufman.

“How about these brushed-gold designs? I kinda like that look,” he said, pointing. “Or do you want one with diamonds?”

She smiled at him. “Nothing too fancy that I can’t wear to work, thanks.” Hooking her arm into his, she thought how lucky she was to have him. He’d been learning to consult her before making decisions that affected them both, and she appreciated his effort. They were each pigheaded, butting their heads often, but the challenge acted as a stimulant to their relationship. She almost wished they were already married.

Making their decision, they took their wrapped package and bustled out the door for more shopping. Marla found a pink pearl necklace for Kate, trinkets for her colleagues back home, and a few other items later on at Havensite Mall by the pier, including a Mont Blanc pen for Vail, after he boarded the ship ahead of her.

Burdened by her bundles, her feet hurting, and dying for a drink, she stumbled up the gangplank. She handed her identity card to the security officer, stuck her packages on the moving belt through the X-ray machine, and passed through the metal detector gates before being allowed to proceed.

“You had me worried,” Vail said, jumping to his feet from the bed when she entered their cabin.

“Last-minute shopping,” she said, tossing her packages along with her handbag onto the couch. Grabbing the water bottle on her nightstand, she swallowed several gulps in quick succession. Satisfied, she peeled off her sweat-soaked top.

“I hope you left some money on the credit card for the rest of the trip,” Vail drawled, sauntering toward her with a gleam in his eyes.

Her blood heated. “No problem. Look, if you don’t let me take a shower first, you’re gonna regret it. 1 won’t be long.”

No joke there. The shower stall, shaped in a circle the size of a New York sewer cover, didn’t allow for much movement. At least the ship wasn’t rocking since they were docked, but she had to stick her legs in the sink to shave them afterward.

Vail, who’d been pacing impatiently, drew her into an embrace when she emerged from the bathroom wearing her underwear. She’d just lifted her chin to kiss him when the phone rang. Cursing, Vail broke off to answer, his tone curt.

“Yes, we’re back okay…. No, we hadn’t heard about it. When did this happen?…Christ, we just saw her in port.”

“What is it?” Marla asked, reaching for her clothes.

Vail raised a hand. “I see. What condition is she in? Is she conscious?…All right, you can tell us more at dinner. Thanks for checking in.”

He replaced the receiver, his mouth a grim line. “That was Kent Harwood. He wanted to make certain we got back from shore okay. Apparently after she returned to the ship, Helen took a tumble down a flight of steps, one of those narrow curving stairs on an outer deck. She hit her head and was admitted to the infirmary.”

Marla’s jaw dropped open. “Oh gosh, will she be all right?”

“Harwood doesn’t know the details, but he said he’d try to find out. We’ll talk more about it at dinner. Finish getting dressed, will you? You always take too long with your make-up.”

His uncharacteristic short temper alerted her to his distress. He hadn’t been so upset when Martha was missing. Maybe now he actually believed someone meant them harm. Not
them
exactly, but the museum people.

On their way into the dining room promptly at six o’clock, they passed a miniature boat filled with fruit by the entrance. The waiters, wearing colorful tropical shirts, scurried around while a steel band played Caribbean music in the background. Pausing by Kate and John’s table to greet the elder couple and Brianna, Marla noted Helen’s empty seat.

“Helen didn’t make it,” said Cliff Peters, looking scruffy despite his open-collared shirt and Dockers slacks. His brusque manner didn’t seem suited to the elegant surroundings.

Marla’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?” she asked the museum’s security guard.

“She’s in sick bay. Had some sort of accident.” He stuck a bread stick in his mouth.

Marla let out a sigh of relief. Oh, he hadn’t meant that Helen had, well, gone to Davy Jones’s locker, or whatever the seagoing expression was called.

“We know,” Vail said. “Kent phoned us.”

“Yeah, what’s with him, dude? He’s, like, just a bug man, but he’s been nosing around like some damn cockroach.”

Isn’t it your job to nose around at the museum
? Marla thought, wondering how he’d ever gotten a job in security.

“Don’t sweat it, man,” Brooklyn Jones cut in. He looked like one of the band members with his dark skin, tropical shirt, and easy grin. “I’m more worried about Helen. I told that gal not to wear those tipsy shoes on the ship.”

“Kent promised to see what he could learn about her condition,” Marla said. “Brie, what are your plans for tonight? We have tickets to the ice show at nine, remember?”

“We’re making costumes for the pirate party later tonight,” the teen said, buttering a roll. “I’ll just stick with you guys until then.”

“Okay. I’d like to attend the art auction at ten-thirty. Kate, will you join me?”

The older woman smiled. “No thanks, dear. John and I are going to the Love and Marriage Game Show.”

John grimaced, his lack of enthusiasm evident. “I agreed to check it out, but I didn’t promise I’ll stay.”

Marla took that as her cue to leave. “See you later,” she said, steering Vail toward their own table.

After ordering a crabmeat and avocado appetizer, salad greens with papaya and pineapple, and broiled lobster tails accompanied by garlic butter sauce, she addressed their companions.

“Tell us about Helen,” she said to Kent Harwood after greeting the others and inquiring about their shore excursions. Vail, munching away on a crispy conch fritter, kept his ear tuned in her direction.

Kent shrugged, an easy proposition in his loose-fitting jacket. It needed a good press, like the rest of him. His jowls sagged, and his hair hung in stringy strands about his weary face. He may have gone snorkeling, but he could have made himself more presentable. Betsy had been on one of those tours, and she looked as bouncy and fresh as a new perm.

“I stopped by the infirmary,” Kent replied. “They said Helen couldn’t have any visitors. They’re monitoring her condition but think she’ll be okay if nothing further develops.” He chewed on a toothpick, waiting for delivery of his Bimini grouper. He was the only one at their table who hadn’t ordered lobster.

Marla noticed he always skipped the soup and dessert courses, as though watching his weight. At least he had more discipline than Dalton, who’d loosened his belt at least once that evening.

“Did she trip and fall?” Betsy asked, licking her fingers. She’d gotten the seafood cocktail with brandy sauce for her appetizer. “Poor thing. This will ruin her vacation.”

“No one saw her tumble down the stairs,” Kent told Betsy before scanning the others. “Right?”

“You know, mister, I don’t care for your tone of voice,” Thurston Stark snapped. “Are you implying one of us had a hand in Helen’s accident?” His eyes twitched.
Blink, blink.

“Am I? You tell me. It’s mighty strange that Martha doesn’t make it back to port, and then her roommate is put out of action. In my mind, I’m wondering who’s next?” Chomping on his toothpick, he glared at the museum foundation chair.

Marla glanced at Vail. She hadn’t shared with him the conversation she’d had with Helen, in which Helen had confessed selling her life insurance policy. Helen had also mentioned knowing what Bob was up to before she ran over to snag his attention. Hadn’t Martha Shore said something similar to Oliver Smernoff in San Juan? She’d mentioned to the museum director that he should keep an eye on Bob when they docked at Grand Cayman.

Her gaze swung to where Wolfson sat beside his dowdy wife. Sandy had a smug grin on her face for some reason, while Bob wore his usual sour expression. What did Martha and Helen, and quite possibly Oliver, know about him that could be dangerous?

“I wonder when Alden Tusk’s triptych will be up for sale,” Irene commented. “Are you all attending the art auction tonight?” Sipping from her martini glass, she eyed them like a beauty contestant might survey the competition.

“Of course we’re going, aren’t we, dearest?” Heidi said.

“Wouldn’t miss a chance to pick up some new works for our collection, baby.” With a fond glance, Thurston draped his arm around her.