Sleeping With the Fishes (A Deadline Cozy Mystery Book 6) Read online

Mira gazed at her. “That’s no way to spend you cruise.”

  True. She’d come here to relax but if she set foot outside the cabin, she’d be looking over her shoulder and wondering if every person she encountered had murder on their mind. “I’ll read.” She shrugged. “You spend most of your time in the cabin writing.”

  “I do write, but I also go out to dinner and watch movies. They have the Starlight Cinema on this cruise. It’s quite lovely to sit out there, a glass of champagne in hand, the sea breeze wafting around...”

  Perfect place to make oneself a sitting target... “I can gaze out to sea. I’m told it’s very therapeutic.” Eve lifted her chin. Then... she lowered it a notch at a time. Her lips parted. “I’ve just remembered something.”

  Mira sighed and slumped back on her chair.

  She, more than anyone else, knew what came next...

  “I took a photo of the Carmen Miranda scuffle.”

  Chapter Three

  “What’s taking Jack so long?” Eve wrung her hands. She swirled around, strode back inside the cabin and within seconds came out to the balcony again. “I sent him that photo hours ago. Jack wouldn’t leave me out of the loop now. He wouldn’t.”

  Mira chuckled but didn’t look up from the book she’d been reading. “So much for not getting involved.”

  Eve gave a brisk shake of her head. “At the risk of sounding paranoid, what if the Carmen Miranda I saw walking out of the cabin finds out I saw her. She could jump to conclusions and think I can actually identify her. I’ll become a target.” That type of thinking, she knew, resulted from too many close calls with killers.

  “We should make sure the cabin is secure. Check to see if the door is properly locked,” Mira suggested.

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  “On the contrary, I’m taking you seriously. And I’m now thinking if the killer is determined, he or she might coerce the busboy into slipping something in your food.”

  “Where’s this coming from, Mira? You don’t usually try to rattle my nerves.”

  Mira sat back and steepled her fingers under her chin. “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s about me turning my innkeeper into a spy. I’m developing a devious mind.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t. One disturbed person in the family is surely enough.” Eve pressed her hand against her stomach.

  “That’s a serious hunger rumble, loud enough for me to hear.”

  Eve cringed. “I missed lunch.”

  “Why don’t you change clothes and we’ll go to dinner. I made reservations for us.”

  “When?”

  “While we were still at home. You have to think ahead on cruises. Everything fills up quickly.”

  Had the murder victim thought ahead? Of course she had. She’d probably obsessed about her costume and the entire Carmen Miranda anniversary get-together. All that planning hadn’t done her any good. “I’m not sure about mingling with a possible killer.”

  “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  She strolled around the cabin again and came to a stop. “I can’t believe the captain didn’t take me seriously. People don’t just fall off balconies.” It scared her to think something so dreadful could happen with no positive action taken by the authorities. If not for Jack, the matter would not be investigated until it was too late.

  “They do fall off if they’ve been drinking too much or if they’re clumsy. I’ve seen some of those impersonators and they were all wearing killer heels.”

  Eve looked out the window toward the balcony. “No. It doesn’t make any sense. The railing is high enough to prevent anyone from falling accidentally.” She lifted her chin. “Someone pushed her.”

  “Here’s another possibility,” Mira offered. “As unpalatable as it might sound, she might have been suicidal.”

  Eve swung toward Mira. “You must really be stuck with your book. You never come up with so many theories.”

  “And you usually have Jill to play around with ideas. I’m trying to compensate for her absence. Now go get dressed. I can hear my stomach beginning to grumble.”

  “Thanks for humoring me.” Eve went through her clothes and selected a simple black dress to wear.

  Could one of the Carmen Miranda impersonators be responsible? And if so, why? What would compel someone to commit murder at sea? Did it have something to do with the competition? “How competitive does someone have to be to commit murder?”

  “Passionately so,” Mira exclaimed.

  “I think if we dig around we might find a motive that sticks because I’m not buying it. No one can possibly be that fiercely competitive. There has to be another reason for murder.” She picked up the brochure and scanned through it. “There isn’t even a money prize. It’s all about the glory of being the best impersonator.”

  “To some, that could mean a great deal,” Mira reasoned. “Think about it. All year round you lead a dull life and this is your one chance to shine. You’d do anything to come out on top.”

  “What? And then celebrate my moment of glory in prison?” Eve shook her head. “No. Nothing would be worth it.” She rolled her shoulders. Not that it did any good. Her neck muscles still felt stiff. “I’m going to book a massage.”

  “I’ll do that for you. Go shower and change. We’re going to dinner even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Nothing is going to happen to you in the middle of a public restaurant.”

  “You obviously haven’t read enough thrillers or watched crime shows on TV. I could be poisoned right in the middle of the restaurant. The killer could be plotting my demise as we speak.”

  “You’re looking glamorous.” Mira wore a jacket and skirt ensemble in vintage pink satin with an elegant strand of pearls around her neck and matching earrings.

  “So is everyone else. Look around you.”

  “It feels like opening night at the opera.” The men wore tuxedos while the women accompanying them shone in their stylish gowns and glittering jewels and perfectly applied make-up with not a hair out of place. “You never said this would be a glitzy affair.”

  “I assumed you knew. Sorry. But would it have made any difference?”

  “No.” She owned a few dresses. All simple cuts. The style that never went out of fashion. And all black. “I’d never be able to justify buying something to wear only once.”

  “You would if you went out more often.”

  “I suppose I can always accessorize to make it go the distance.” Yet she’d still be lost in a sea of glamour.

  Eve looked around her and took in the extravagant decorations. Every surface appeared to sparkle. A massive chandelier hung in the centre of the restaurant; the flickering lights making it look like a cascade. Lavish flower arrangements were scattered right throughout the restaurant with smaller bouquets on each table, all white flowers. Primroses, lilies, and tulips and a few others she couldn’t identify, highlighted with splashes of lime green foliage, and, Eve noticed on closer inspection, slices of lime.

  They were shown to a table by the window. Not that Eve could appreciate the ocean view. Her eyes skipped from table to table, committing faces to memory, watching gestures, watching people’s reaction to her presence. If anyone threw daggers her way, she wanted to be able to see them. She spotted a table full of Carmen Miranda impersonators but didn’t recognize any of the ones she’d seen on deck earlier that day.

  “Those must be the non-competitive ones,” Eve murmured, and noticed they all chatted together amicably.

  “And yet they’re all dressed up in their costumes. That’s taking their passion seriously,” Mira remarked.

  “Okay, I caught a furtive glance thrown our way.”

  Mira cleared her throat. “You mean, your way.”

  Eve took a sip of water. “Disowning me, Mira?”

  “If word got out that you’re the one who alerted the captain, then you’re the one who’ll be a person of interest to the killer. Not me.”

  “What if the killer wants to get to me thr
ough you?”

  “Now who is being sinister?”

  “Gee. I hope I didn’t spoil your dinner.”

  Mira’s attention shifted. “There’s more of them coming in.”

  Eve took a discreet peek. “Oh, yes. They’re the ones I saw on deck. Why would they be sitting together? I’d swear they were archenemies.”

  “Maybe they’re bonding in a time of crisis. Or maybe they’re all in it together.”

  That hadn’t crossed her mind. “Is there a name for a group of killers?”

  “A gang? It doesn’t sound right, but I’m sure that’s it. Maybe no one has thought of coming up with a name because killers tend to work alone.” Mira tilted her head as if in deep thought. “A group of killer whales is called a pod. That’s an interesting one...”

  Eve’s eyes widened. Another group came into the restaurant. “Just how many are there.”

  “A hundred.”

  “What?”

  “Well, ninety nine now that one of them has been murdered.”

  Eve focused her attention on the group she recognized. “They’re talking to each other but I’m guessing they’re putting on an act for the sake of appearances.”

  A wave of murmured conversations mingled with the tinkling of a piano tune, the sort of music that served as a backdrop and didn’t resonate with any real emotions.

  Eve pressed the tips of her fingers against her wrist. She might feel comatose but her heart still beat strong.

  Catching her action, Mira smiled. “The waiter is coming our way. Have you decided what you’re going to have?”

  “No. You order for me, please,” Eve said as her cell phone rang. Before it could ring again, Eve snatched it off the table and answered it. “Jack. Any news?”

  “Yes, my colleagues managed to convince the captain to secure the cabin until they can board the ship.”

  “They want to dust for prints?” Eve asked.

  “We want to preserve the crime scene so the police can look at the scene with their own eyes when they board.”

  Eve looked around her and lowered her voice. “What assurance do you have it hasn’t already been disturbed?”

  “None. We’ll have to work with what we have. How are things up your end? Have you learned anything new?”

  “Jack, are you encouraging me to question the passengers?”

  “It would help if you keep your eyes open for any suspicious behavior. You can learn a lot from a safe distance. I’m not telling you to go out of your way to snoop.”

  “Of course not. You’d never do that.” She took a sip of the wine Mira had ordered and smiled in appreciation. “What about the photo I sent you? Did you come up with anything?”

  “We cross-referenced your photos with the passenger I.D. photos. Getting those was no easy task. None of the passengers came up in our database.”

  “So they don’t have a criminal record. That doesn’t mean anything. They could be first timers. This could be the first in a killing spree. There were one hundred Carmen Miranda impersonators. Imagine if someone has set out to rid the world of them. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” She groaned. “I can’t believe I said that.”

  “This will cheer you up. The photo helped with narrowing down the time of death. You took it at eleven in the morning. The victim is actually in the picture.”

  Eve frowned. Strange. She didn’t recall seeing anyone wearing those colors until she’d seen the woman floating in the water. Yet when she’d talked it through with Mira and Jack, her mind had caught a flash of lime green and orange. Was her mind playing tricks with her?

  “Did you say eleven?”

  “Yes.”

  And she’d gone to the victim’s cabin at midday. That meant the lime green and fluorescent orange Carmen Miranda had been killed between eleven and midday... “That’s a start.” A sixty-minute window of opportunity for one person to do the evil deed. Could they narrow that time frame down?

  While Mira burned the midnight oil trying to finish a chapter, Eve tried to remember everything she’d seen in the cabin. Had she touched anything? She wouldn’t want the police to find her fingerprints. From experience, she knew that would put her in a tenuous position and at the receiving end of some difficult questions.

  She turned to her side and stared blankly into space. If her suitcase hadn’t been mixed up, she would never have reported the incident. It might have been at least a day before anyone noticed the woman missing. Maybe even longer. Housekeeping wouldn’t necessarily become suspicious if they didn’t find any wet towels or an untidy room. They’d probably be grateful.

  “Most cases of people perishing at sea are found to be accidental,” Mira said.

  Eve blinked but didn’t answer.

  “Don’t pretend to be asleep. You’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour.”

  “Are you researching?”

  “Yes. Interestingly, there are over a hundred deaths at sea each year. A realistic number considering the number of elderly people traveling at any given time. While those deaths aren’t suspicious, there are some that raise questions.”

  Eve plumped up her pillow. “They were too obvious.”

  “Who?”

  “At dinner. The Carmen Miranda group. When I first saw them, they were at each other’s throats. Then suddenly, they were on their best behavior.”

  “One of their own died. Like I said, maybe the death brought them together. You know, bygones.”

  “I’m not convinced.”

  “You think they’re covering for each other? That wouldn’t make sense. If their dislike of each other is so intense, they’d want to start pointing fingers,” Mira reasoned.

  Eve closed her eyes. At dinner, she’d noticed one of the women had stood up to make a toast. Something in the way she’d lifted her hand to her turban had caught her attention. Eve groaned.

  “What?”

  “The woman I’m sure came out of the cabin as I was approaching it. I only saw her back, but I know it was the silver Carmen Miranda.” The one who’d given her the death stare. The one who’d stood up to make a toast. “She’s at the centre of all this.”

  Eve emerged from the bathroom dressed in her shorts and t-shirt and padded across the room to find the sandals she’d kicked off the day before.

  A brand new day, she thought. Time to start enjoying her cruise. Turning to admire the clear blue sky, she noticed Mira had her cell phone pressed to her ear. Eve barely had time to enjoy the clear sky and calm waters.

  “Here she is.” Mira handed the phone to Eve. “It’s Jack. He rang a couple of times while you were in the shower so I thought I’d put him out of his misery.”

  “Thanks.” She grabbed a bottle of water and strode out to the balcony. “Ahoy there. What news?”

  “You sound chirpy this morning.”

  Eve smiled. Then she remembered her last waking thought. Would she be able to pick the woman who’d come out of the cabin from a line-up simply by looking at her hand gesture? How certain could she be it had been the silver Miranda? “Sorry to say it’s already faded. Please tell me you have something concrete to go on with.”

  “There’s a retired detective on board. I’ve been in contact with him and told him to keep an eye out for you. David Bergstrom’s been brought in as a consultant to ensure the crime scene remains sealed.”

  “Good to hear you refer to it as a crime scene.”

  Jack cleared his throat and that usually meant he had information he didn’t necessarily wish to share with her. Before she could prod, he surprised her.

  “We have no choice. The autopsy report came in.”

  “I get the feeling I should sit down.”

  “There’s evidence of blunt force trauma.” He gave her a moment for the information to sink in. “Eve, do you remember seeing anything in the cabin that might have been used as a weapon?”

  “No. Then again, I didn’t search for a weapon. My priority was to raise the alarm.”

  “D
avid Bergstrom will gain access to the cabin today. Perhaps you could go in with him and check to see if anything has been disturbed.”

  Another pause. This time Eve heard a hint of hesitation.

  “Eve.”

  “Yes?” she asked coyly.

  “Don’t take this as leeway to go rogue on me. David’s in charge. He sets the boundaries and you’re going to stick to them. Do you hear me?”

  “Aye aye captain.”

  David Bergstrom’s striking good looks had Mira lost for words. Eve’s gaze bounced between her aunt’s dazzled expression and David’s equally interested gaze.

  He looked to be about fifty something. If he was any older, he did well to hide it. His strong physique spoke of regular physical activity. Broad shoulders, flat stomach. The few lines on his face were mostly laugh lines, which boded well for Mira. She liked a man with a healthy sense of humor.

  “Jack mentioned you’d be dropping by to introduce yourself.”

  It took a moment for David Bergstrom to tear his attention away from Mira. They’d been having breakfast and trying to focus on the delectable fare when he’d approached their table.

  “Care to join us?” Eve asked.

  “I’d love to.”

  “This is my aunt Mira. She’s an author.”

  “Mira Lloyd? The name rings a bell. Actually, I’m thinking of Elizabeth Lloyd.”

  “That’s her.”

  He gazed at Mira, his eyes unblinking. Finally, he gave her a small smile. “My wife was a fan of your historical romances. I have to admit to having read a few of them myself... okay, I’ve read as many as you’ve published. It made for interesting conversation over breakfast after a late night reading session. We used to compare notes.”

  A delicate shade of pink bloomed on Mira’s cheeks. Eve had never seen her in such a state of awe.

  “Sadly she died a couple of years ago.”

  As they commiserated with him, Eve wondered if the cruise was his way of getting on with his life.

  “Where do you live when you’re not on a cruise, David?” Eve asked and tried not to wince when Mira’s foot connected with hers.