Stowaway (5 page)

“Thank you,” I say
quietly.

He looks as
pleased with the situation as I feel, but only nods stiffly as he leads the
way. The staff hallways and accommodations in depths of the ship are vastly
different from those of the passengers. Nothing is plush or ornate. Everything
is a bland shade of tan and giant pipes run along the walls of the empty,
narrow hallways at eye level.
Just the right height to bang
your head.

I see no one as we
near the musician’s room, which appears to be
,
judging
from the distance to his neighbors’ doors
,
very
cramped. He looks relieved. However, as he is pulling out his key, I hear
footsteps and turn to see a man approaching.

“Hey,
Luke!
You’re up late.”

The guy looks at
me questioningly, then back at Luke.

“Yeah,
hi Mario.
We’re just, she’s just…”

“Whatever, man.”

Mario
winks,
smiles at Luke and walks on. Luke flushes red as he
opens the door and gestures me in.

“Well, here we
are.”

I freeze at the
entryway.
 

“I can’t do this.”

“What? No, Mario
assumes too much. I don’t know what you’ve heard about staff on cruises, but I
am not like that. You are here just for a place to sleep. That’s it. Maybe a
shower too, because you kind of stink.”

“I don’t care what
your friends think. And, I’m going to overlook your last comment for now.”

“Then, what?” he
says impatiently. He looks tired, like he might collapse on the floor and fall
asleep right there. I feel guilty.

“I don’t even know
your whole name! And, you haven’t even asked my first one. It’s weird.”
In
fact, it’s suspicious.

“That’s it?” He
looks exasperated. “I don’t care about names right now, but fine.
 
Luke Taylor. I can’t honestly say I’m glad to
meet you.”

“Thanks, Maggie
Swift. I am going to overlook that comment, too.”

I extend my hand
for a shake. He grabs it, hauls me into the room and slams the door. He is
standing between me and it, so I nervously look around and put my hand in my
pocket, reaching for my pepper spray. But, I don’t pull it out just yet. I’ll
wait for him to make the next move.

The space is tiny,
more of a closet than a shared apartment. There is just enough room for us to
stand between the miniscule lavatory and the berths. The berths aren’t normal cabin
beds, just two cubbies with mattresses built into the wall, one coffin-like
vault stacked on top of the other. Curtains cover the front of each from head
to foot for privacy.

“Good night,” Luke
says as he shoves past me, then hops in the lower one
¾
suit
and all
¾
and pulls his curtain closed. Almost instantly I hear
him snoring. I guess he’s not going to call the captain to arrest me yet or
hack me to bits in serial killer style, so I relax a little. Take my finger off
the trigger on the spray. Climb into the upper berth.

I lay awake a long
time. It’s not because I feel uneasy any more, just that I can’t rest. I am too
tense. I manage to doze off and on, and gradually the naps grow longer and
deeper.

Just after I
finally nod off into a true sleep, I hear a soft thump against the door. It
jars me back awake. But, that is the only noise, so I figure it’s someone just
walking by outside. I’m tired, and happy to stretch out in a bed, even if the
sheets are too thin and scratchy. I roll over and am out.

….

When I wake, I’m
disoriented. Maybe sleep wasn’t such a good idea. I can’t tell if it’s night or
day, or how long I have been unconscious. It feels like it has only been five
minutes, but I don’t know for sure. There’s no window this deep into the belly
of the ship to let in natural light. So, I listen for sounds of life from Luke.
I hear him brushing his teeth and peek out to find him already showered and
dressed.

“Good, you’re up.
I’ve got to get to work soon,” he says. “There’s the shower and here’s some
clothes of Charlie’s. They might fit. Oh, he left a new toothbrush in the
drawer, still in the package. Please use it.”

I glare at him,
then squint around, still groggy. Who’s Charlie? Oh yeah, the tuba player who
used to sleep in this bed. The pillow still smells like his hair gel.

As my feet hit the
cold floor, it all comes back to me.
The murder, the clean
crime scene.
All of it.
I sigh, grab the
toothbrush and scrub my mouth, while Luke trims at his unruly beard. After I
spit, I look longingly at the shower, which probably has soap and hot water and
everything.

“What’s a girl got
to do to get some privacy around here?”

“Nope,
not happening.
I’m not leaving you alone with my stuff. I’d like it to still
be here after you leave.”

“Well, I am
absolutely not taking off my clothes in front of you, no matter how much I want
to shower. Did you plan this?”

He rolls his eyes
as I stand toe-to-toe with him.
 
Neither
of us is giving any ground.

“Yes, I planned
for some certifiably insane woman to ruin the few precious hours I get alone on
this ship,” he says in a level voice. Then, I see anger flash in his eyes as he
wipes his face with a towel and turns away.

“I hate you horrid
female passengers, with your dumb questions and
your
giggling and your hanging all over us no-name musicians like we’re somebody.
It’s disgusting.
You
probably planned
this,
you stalker!”

I am furious now.

“I don’t even know
what instrument you play, you idiot! I am not a very good stalker if I don’t
even know that, am I?”

Ok, so that was
lame, but I shoot him my best angry glare anyway before continuing.

“Fine, turn
around, but I swear to God if I catch you peeking, I’m pepper spraying your
eyes so much they’ll wish they never see anything again.”

“Fine!
But if I hear you pawing through my stuff, I’m tossing you out, naked or not.
And, I won’t care what I or anyone else sees while I’m doing it.”

“You’re awful.
And rude!”

I never was any
good at comebacks.

“Excuse me? Who
gave an ungrateful beggar a place to sleep last night, sweetheart? And, didn’t
even beat you, which I hear is
a step up for you, as far as
roommates go
.
Although, I’m starting to sympathize
with Stacy.

“Also, who gave
who a toothbrush for their nasty sewer breath not five minutes ago? And, fresh
clothes to wear? All in all, I think I’m looking pretty awesome this morning!
Someone should knight me.”

“Just turn
around!”

He smirks, but
does as I demand. I dart inside the tiny, closet-sized shower and toss my grimy
clothes outside. The shower, like the rest of the cabin, is a squeeze, but it
is heaven as the brown, filthy water swirls around my feet and yesterday drains
away. I finish smiling and smelling much better. I am even optimistic I can
tame
my hair today, if there is a brush around. I dress in
the shower quickly, step out and resign myself to the usual pony tail when I
don’t find one.

“You know, you
look nice with your hair down,” Luke says quietly, like a peace offering, after
I give him permission to turn around.

I smile, pop the
elastic band back around my wrist and comb through the snarls with my fingers a
bit.

“The ukulele,” he
says.

“What?”

“I, um, play the
concert ukulele. You said you didn’t know what instrument I played.”

“Like the funny,
tiny guitar thing?”

I laugh before I can
stop myself, and he blushes.

“No, it’s just,” I
fumble. “I just expected something more hard core rocker than that. You know.”

“There is nothing
wrong with a ukulele! The old ladies love it.”

“I’ll bet they
do,” I say, with a grin.

He smiles back,
and as I shove my feet back into my flip flops, he opens the hall door for me.
I inhale sharply when I almost step right onto the chest of Mario’s strangled
body. However, no scream makes it through my tight throat as I register the
deep, red marks on his neck and his vacant, dead eyes staring up at me.

Chapter 5

I jump back
inside, slam the door shut and start hyperventilating. Luke takes me by the
shoulders. I can tell he saw it too.

“What did you do
that for? Open it up! We’ve got to call security.”

I shake my head,
trying to form words.

“There’s nothing
we can do for him,” I finally wail. “How did I manage to see two murdered
people in 24 hours?”

Luke is obviously
shaken. And, why wouldn’t he be? Mario apparently is, or was, his friend. He
takes a deep breath and reaches for the door after telling me he has to check
Mario’s pulse. Although, we both know there won’t be one. Meanwhile, I start
formulating a plan to run away before the authorities get here.

However, when Luke
opens the door again, there is no body.
Nothing.
Mario
has vanished. It is as if he was never there.

“You did see him,
right?” Luke asks quietly, not looking at me. He is just staring, like me, at
the empty floor outside the door.

“Yeah.
What, what was that?”

“I think the
killer is sending us a message. They know we know. And, they want us to
understand that we can be silenced at any time. We could just disappear, like
Mario. Whoever he or she is, they are in charge and we need to stay out of the
way.”

“Out
of the way?
For what?”

“I don’t know what
for any more than you do, but I’ll bet it has something to do with that painting.”

I want off this
boat, now. I know I’ll need an ID card to do so, but if I snuck on, I can sneak
back off, right?

“Luke, when do we
dock next? I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Not until the end
of the weekend, Maggie. This is a cruise to nowhere. How could you forget?”

Oh. I’ve heard
about these cruises. The ship doesn’t actually stop anywhere during the time
it’s at sea. It simply wanders around the ocean from the time it leaves port
until it returns the final day. I hear they’re great, because the ships are
entertaining and you really get to know your fellow passengers. Except, it also
means I’m stuck with a murderer for the duration. I’ve had enough excitement
and I don’t want to know that particular passenger any better. I wish I’d just
stayed home. At least I wasn’t on a killer’s hit list there.

“The spa,” I say.

“What?”

“The
spa.
We need to go.
Now.”

“I’m sorry,
honey,” he says sarcastically, “I don’t think a pedicure will fix your problems
today. You know, I should have left you where I found you because a killer who
is apparently after you, now knows who I am too because I’m the first unlucky
sap you found. ”

“No you’re…”

“Oh
right, the second.
Even drugged, that bartender had the good sense to
call you crazy and send you on your way.
But not me.
No,
I had to invite you home.”

“Stop!
I’m not saying we need to go to get pampered. We need to change what we look
like. You know, dye our hair and stuff.”

“Oh. That’s
actually not a bad idea.
Fine.
After
you.”

“Um,
just one thing.”

“What?”

“I don’t have any
money.”

“Right, you lost
your card to bill it to your room.”

“No, it’s not
that. I’m broke. I’ll be happy to pay you when we get to shore.”
If my
banking accounts aren’t frozen, I silently add.

“Absolutely
not.
Why do you think I’d trust you after what just happened?”

He reaches over,
and grabs a hideous tie-dye hat with fake dreadlocks attached and jams it on my
head. It’s one of the awful tourist ones people buy in the islands, then regret
as soon as they do. He stuffs my hair up under it, and places a pair of giant
men’s sunglasses on my nose.

“There! Perfect.
Now, I’m just going to park you at a bar while I go run a quick errand. Got it?”

“Oh
no!
You’re not leaving me…”

“I’ve got to call
in sick from work, alright? Having you hanging on my arm while I do it is not
going to convince one of my buddies to cover for me.”

Right.
I nod. We part ways at the stairway, and I head up to the promenade. When I get
to the bar, I sit in the same stool as yesterday, chatting with a new
bartender. However, my phone is safely tucked into my jeans’ front pocket.
That’s all that’s in there. I forgot to grab my change when I switched clothes
at Luke’s.

“Hi doll.
Anybody sitting here?”

Great.
Mike the pickpocket is back. I sip on my drink and will him to leave.

“Go away!”

“Hey, no need to
get so defensive. I just want to talk. Nice hat.”

He did the coin
from behind my ear trick thing again.
Really?
Two days
in a row?
 
Maybe he is going to apologize
in his own weird way, and that’s his only ice-breaker.

“Buy you a drink?”
he says, again failing to notice I’ve already got one, and it’s free.

“Whatever.”

He doesn’t need
any more encouragement to scrape his chair closer to mine and start clicking
that infernal lighter.

True to script, he
throws his other arm around my shoulders.

“Isn’t this nice,
doll? Sailing the open seas, full of beauty and mystery?”