Yappy Hour (13 page)

“Gus?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't really know him. I just met him recently. But he thought Dan was with Rachel and I couldn't let him think—”

“What?”

Uh-oh! Playing dumb wasn't working all that well. Now I'd really gone and said something stupid.

“Ummm…” I looked around the booth and feigned interest in the mini-jukebox.

“Why did he think Rachel was with Dan?”

I sipped my beer. I might as well come out with it. He'd find out sooner or later. “They used to date.”

He nodded. “Right. But they broke up, correct? Why did Gus think they might be together?”

I shrugged. “I guess he thought they might have reconciled.”

“Have you heard from her? Do you have any kind of update on her whereabouts?”

The image from the cabin of Dan's photo used as target practice flashed before my eyes. I grabbed my draft beer and took a swig, buying time. Yolanda had been right. I'd have been better off not seeing the stupid thing.

“I haven't heard from Rachel. I tried contacting the cruise line office, but they were closed for the weekend. I was planning on going into the office tomorrow morning to see if they have a way to reach passengers on the cruise.”

He chomped on an onion ring.

“I'm worried about her,” I continued inanely. “What if … What if something's happened to her?”

Brooks put down his draft. “Like what?”

“Maybe she saw something … and the killer has kidnapped her.…” I swallowed back my fear. “Or worse…”

“Well, let's not get carried away with conjecture. Do you have any reason to believe she's been kidnapped?”

“No,” I admitted.

Brooks nodded. “We didn't find anything at the scene of the crime to indicate a struggle like that. And you didn't find anything out of the ordinary at her apartment, right?”

“What do you mean, out of the ordinary?”

He shrugged. “No forced entry, broken doors, broken windows, not even anything to suggest she hadn't planned on leaving, like a plate of unfinished food.” He bit into his hamburger to prove his point.

I smiled. “Right, I didn't find an abandoned hamburger, but…”

He looked into my eyes and my tummy gave a little quiver. “You're pretty worried about her, huh?”

I nodded.

“Do you want to file a missing persons report?”

Part of me knew Rachel was just being Rachel. She was unpredictable, a go-with-the-flow kind of gal. But I knew my sister could cause trouble without even trying to, like the time she told my ex-boyfriend off in the middle of a crowded store, or when she “accidently” set fire to my apartment. I had covered for her then, like I'd done a hundred times while we were growing up.

The thing was, if I asked Officer Brooks to look into her disappearance, I was certain he could come up with an entire dossier on how Rachel could have killed Dan.

I fidgeted with my beer mug. “I'm sure she's on the cruise,” I lied. “I guess I hate to admit she'd elope without telling me.”

Brooks's face relaxed and he reached his hand out across the table to lace his fingers through mine. His hands were strong, the nails cut square. “Don't worry,” he reassured me. “I'm going to get to the bottom of everything.”

That's exactly what had me worried.

 

Chapter Fourteen

An obnoxious, insistent ringing jarred me out of slumber on Monday morning. I'd been dreaming about Brooks and how sweet, honest, and reliable he was. In my dream we were on a cruise, destination unknown, and the only thing certain was that he looked hot in his swim trunks.

It took me a moment to realize the ringing was my phone.

I rubbed the sleep out of eyes, and my first thought was of Rachel. I jumped to answer it.

“Hello?'

“Hi, this is Jan, from Soleado Cruise Line. Is this Maggie Patterson?”

It was the call I'd been waiting for, and yet instead of being elated, I was strangely discombobulated and disappointed.

“Yes,” I muttered.

“Oh, great! I've reviewed your résumé and application and was wondering if you had time to come in for an interview this morning, say around ten or eleven?”

I agreed quickly and we hung up. I'd have to get ready in a hurry in order to make it on time. I scoured my closet for something appropriate to wear. After being in Pacific Cove a few days, I realized that everything I owned seemed so New York, type-A, financial advisor—bottom line, too conservative for a cruise operation.

Basically, my wardrobe was no fun at all.

I remembered the navy jacket with white anchors embroidered on it that I'd seen at Designer Duds. Would that be too presumptuous?

I glanced at my watch. I didn't have enough time to pop down there and buy it. I showered and shrugged into slacks and a burgundy silk top that I figured would look good without the jacket. It was bit on the conservative side, but that was okay for an interview. I rationalized that at least I'd feel businesslike.

My phone rang again. It was Grunkly. “Did you find Rachel at Stag's Leap?” he asked.

“No! She wasn't there. It does seem like she's been up there recently, though,” I said.

Grunkly made a clucking sound. “I can't believe she'd disappear like this and not tell us where she was going.”

“I know. Listen, I got a call for interview at the Soleado Cruise Line—”

“What? The cruise line? Would you have to travel a lot if you got the job? Why do you want to work there?”

It seemed I'd had this same conversation with Grunkly about five times. “Yes,” I said. “I want to travel.”

“Why? Don't you like it here in Pacific Cove?”

“I have to get a job, Grunkly. You know, in order to pay rent and buy groceries and stuff.”

“Pfft. Don't worry about rent, Maggie. You can always come stay with me.”

The thought of living at Grunkly's cluttered house almost sent me into a panic attack. “Uh…”

“And speaking of groceries … how about the filets you were going to pick up for us? Why don't you grab some for tonight and come over for dinner. I'll buy.”

“Sound good. I'll see you tonight.”

*   *   *

The Soleado Cruise Line office was a few blocks from the one of the piers. The office was pristine and smelled like the ocean, making me want to sail away, which I'm sure was the desired effect. A couple was looking at travel brochure, while an agent pointed out some attractions to them.

The agent looked up as I walked into the office. She was a pretty woman in her mid-forties with a mane of curly dark hair and a pair of pink half-glasses perched on her small nose. She smiled brightly and said, “I'll be right with you.”

“No problem,” I said.

There was a row of clear plastic holders that contained a supply of colorful brochures, each of an exotic location where Soleado cruised: Hawaii, French Polynesia, the Panama Canal, the Caribbean. I smiled, recalling my dream about Brooks in his swimsuit. What an absolute dream it would be to go on one of these foreign cruises with him. I tugged on one of the brochures for the Mexican Riviera Cruise to free it from the holder and accidently upended the entire display.

Oh no!

The holder crashed onto the tile, spinning and whirling like a top, spewing over fifty brochures out across the floor.

My face reddened and I immediately bent to pick up the brochures, saying, “I'm so sorry!”

The agent materialized beside me and gave me a stern, “I'll get that.”

The couple turned on their heels and disappeared out the front door, singsonging a “Thank you!” that seemed more of a dismissal.

Shoot. I've likely just lost her a sale.

“How can I help you?” the agent asked, through clenched teeth. Trying hard, I'm sure, not to bite my head off.

“I'm here to see Jan. About the purser position.”

The agent fixed her face in a disapproving look. It seemed Jan would get an earful about me before even meeting me.

“What's your name?” she asked, adjusting her glasses so I was in full magnification.

“Maggie Patterson.”

The agent replaced the plastic holder with the brochures on the counter and said, “I'll let her know you're here.”

I supposed it could have been worse. The agent could have been Jan; that definitely would have started us off on the wrong foot.

What was wrong with me?

Probably still nervous and stressed out about finding Dan. Not to mention Rachel still hadn't called me. How on earth was I supposed to concentrate on a job interview when I should be looking for my sister? Not to mention I'd promised Gus that I'd help him look into finding Dan's killer.

I wandered over to the watercooler. There were tiny paper cups in a tube alongside of the cooler. I pulled out a cup and pressed the blue button for cold water. Nothing happened, so I pressed the red button. Hot water poured out, scalding my hand.

Dropping the cup, I made a small spill on the floor.

Really?

What kind of a klutz was I today?

I stopped to pick up the cup, as voices neared. A woman called out, “Maggie?”

Bolting upright, I slammed my head on the cooler and toppled the entire five-gallon bottle. Water poured over my slacks, soaking me, then rushed across the tile floor right up to the woman's shoes.

The agent, the other woman, and I were frozen in place.

Oh God!

I wished I could disappear behind a magic vanishing cape.

“Are you all right?” the woman asked.

I looked at my wet slacks, then at the floor, now slick all the way to the doorway. “Uh … huh.”

“I'm so sorry. That was my fault!” the woman said. “I shouldn't have frightened you that way.” She turned to the agent. “Sue, can you please get a mop?”

The agent lowered her glasses and flashed me a red-hot look as if darts were coming out of her eyes, then she turned to the other woman and said sweetly, “Of course.”

“Stay there,” the woman said to me. “Have a seat. As soon as Sue mops up, she'll show you to my office.”

I took a seat by the window and looked out at the beach. My slacks stuck to my legs and I felt trapped. The agent came back and cleaned the floor in short order, then motioned me down the hall. “First office on the right. And for God's sake don't touch anything else.”

Finding Jan's office, I knocked on the door. Her voice rang out, welcoming me in. She was in her forties and looked the epitome of efficiency. Even though I was out of my element today, I could tell Jan was my kind of woman. She worked her way expertly through the interview questions: what was my past experience, easy; my greatest achievement, another easy one, graduating summa cum laude from Saint Mary's; my top strength—reliability. What was my greatest weakness…?

Uh?

Clumsiness? Nosiness? But I couldn't say that in a job interview, so I confessed I was a workaholic: certified accountant and numbers extraordinaire, hadn't had a day off since I started babysitting at the ripe age of ten, which is why I applied for the Soleado Cruise Line's open position. A job whose office was a new port every day was just what I was looking for.

Perhaps then my pants could dry off.

Jan was all smiles when we finished the interview. She told me that they had a few more candidates to interview and that I'd hear by the end of the week.

When we finished with the interview questions, feeling like I'd already made a fool of myself and I really didn't have all that much left to lose, I asked, “Jan, I think my sister may be on the Mexican Riviera Cruise that left Pacific Cove on Friday. Is there a way to get a message to her? I'm afraid it's urgent.”

“Oh certainly, just ask Sue at the front. She can pull up the itinerary for you and you can leave a message at the next port.”

Sue again? She'd be as happy as a clam to help me, I was sure.

I left Jan's office and headed out to the front lobby. Sue was talking to two middle-aged women who were booking a cruise for their travel club. She seemed happy to be closing a big deal. I wondered if now was the time to push my luck?

The women chatted among themselves, frantically clicking on their smartphones looking up dates.

Sue fixed me with a glare, but her voice had a pleasant up lilt for the benefit of the women in earshot. “Yes, Maggie, is there anything else I can help you with?”

I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. “I want to get a message to my sister. She's on the Mexican Riviera Cruise that left Pacific Cove on Friday. Jan said you could help me.”

Sue glanced at the women, who were still absorbed in their phones, and seemed to decide it was a safe risk. She stepped around the counter to the computer console. “The seven day or ten day?”

“I … I don't know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Name?”

“Rachel Patterson.”

Her fingers flew across the keyboards. She bit her lip, then made me spell Rachel's name. Finally she looked up from the computer. “Are you sure she left on Friday?”

No, I'm not sure at all!

“Yes,” I lied.

“That's strange. I don't see her. Any other name she could be listed under?”

If it was true that Rachel had eloped, could her reservation be under Chuck's name? My throat was dry and I longed for a cup of water. I glanced at the cooler and noticed that Sue had replaced the empty bottle with a brand new one.

Dare I help myself to some water?

Sue followed my eyes to the cooler. She gave a stern shake of her head. I was definitely not allowed near the watercooler again.

“Can you look up a Rachel Hazelton or maybe Chuck Hazelton?”

Sue's fingers clicked away at the keyboard; after a moment she frowned and said, “Sorry. I don't show either Chuck or Rachel Hazelton as registered guests.”