Helen dragged her aching body up the stairs again, pulling herself up by the rail. She tried not to think about carrying a tray of food back down it. She had a job to do. She had a smuggler to catch. Nobody died of seasickness, did they?
At last, she was upstairs. Chef Suzanne presided over a shifting galley, where water sloshed out of steaming pots and sizzled on the Thermador stove top. Helen caught glimpses of other top-of-the-line brand names, including Sub-Zero.
Suzanne, a thin woman with straight dark hair and serious brown eyes, pointed to a napkin-covered tray on the center island. The chef had used thin, gold-rimmed china for the soft-boiled egg, saltines and tea.
“That goes to Mrs. Crowne,” Suzanne said. “The men are asleep—or passed out—in the sky lounge. Mira covered them with blankets and they’re snoring.”
The boat took another downward plunge and Helen grabbed the railing along the counter to stay upright.
“How do I get this downstairs?” Helen asked.
“Walk with your feet wide apart for balance,” Suzanne said. “Keep them spread as wide as your shoulders. Hold on to the tray with one hand and the wall with the other. And be careful. That’s Rosenthal china. Any breakage comes out of your pay. You’ll have to check on your charge every fifteen minutes.”
“She told me to go away once I delivered the bucket,” Helen said.
“You still have to stay awake in case she calls you. Mira left a thermos of coffee in the crew mess. That should keep you awake.”
Helen waited until the yacht was out of the deep swing and into the smaller rocking motions. As she started out of the galley, the yacht took another steep plunge. The china rattled and the gold-rimmed cup slid off the tray and smashed on the floor.
“It’s only a cup,” Suzanne said. “We have lots of those.”
“Where’s a broom?” Helen asked.
“I’ll sweep it up. You get that food to the guest,” Suzanne said.
“How much is it?” Helen asked.
“Eighty dollars,” Suzanne said.
Helen hoped she could put the cost of the broken china on her expense account. She picked up the tray again. After what seemed like hours, she made it down the stairs and through the passage to Pepper’s door. Her muscles ached from the effort to keep her balance.
She knocked, and found Pepper still huddled under the duvet.
“Put it on the nightstand,” Pepper said as she tried to sit up. She was still wearing her pink ruffled outfit, now hopelessly wrinkled.
A small rail around the stand’s edge kept the tray from sliding off. Helen poured Pepper a cup of oolong. She was shocked by the woman’s pasty face. As Pepper sipped the sloshing tea, her color returned.
Helen had braced her legs to keep from falling as the yacht was slammed by another wave. She felt like she was riding a surfboard. The sea seemed to be getting wilder.
“Don’t you get seasick?” Pepper asked.
“A little,” Helen said.
“But you still have to work? That’s awful,” Pepper said. “I wouldn’t do it.”
I wouldn’t marry a rich old man like Scotty, Helen thought, but said nothing.
“Sit down,” Pepper said. “Talk to me. Those ladies upstairs are old and Rosette is mean. When I came out of the john I heard her tell Beth that I dressed like a cocktail waitress. Well, what’s wrong with that? That’s how I met Scotty. I always look nice. Rosette doesn’t bother. She’s just jealous. Don’t you think?”
Pepper didn’t want an answer, just a sympathetic ear. She prattled away as she sipped her tea. About ten minutes into the monologue Pepper said, “I guess my husband is still playing poker, huh?”
“He was. I think he fell asleep in the sky lounge,” Helen said.
“Good,” Pepper said. “I can be up and dressed pretty by the time he’s awake. I wanted to fly to Atlantis and meet him at noon tomorrow. That’s what everyone does. But he insisted on going with his buddies on the
Helen hoped Pepper planned to stash that jewelry. She suspected Scotty would dump her when she was no longer ornamental.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” Helen said.
“I am,” Pepper said. “The tea helped. Do you know how I met Scotty?”
Helen sat in the stateroom, listening to Pepper drone on. Her radio didn’t erupt into more commands. The boat’s rocking gradually grew more gentle.
She sat up suddenly, wondering where she was. Then she heard Pepper snoring softly. Helen was sitting in Pepper’s stateroom. She’d fallen asleep while Pepper had been talking.
The teacup and the saltine dish were both empty. The teapot was cold. So was the untouched egg. What time was it?
She checked her watch: five forty-three. She wished she could call Phil and tell him what she’d learned about Scotty and his hooker girlfriend. It might be connected to the Zerling case. But she had to report to work at six a.m.
Helen tiptoed out, carefully shutting the door, and opened her cabin. She hoped she could shower without waking Louise.
But Louise’s bunk wasn’t slept in and there was no light on in the bathroom. Poor Louise, Helen thought. She must have had to work all night, too. And she hates this job even more than I do.
Helen showered quickly and changed into her work uniform of shorts and a polo shirt, then climbed the stairs again. In the galley, the lights were blazing. The air was scented with coffee and cinnamon rolls were baking in the oven. Suzanne was slicing a pineapple on a cutting board. The tall woman had her dark hair tied back. This morning, she seemed worried.
“Morning, Helen,” Suzanne said. “Have you seen Louise? She was supposed to help set up and serve breakfast.”
“Not since last night about three o’clock,” Helen said. “She was carrying a tray to Mrs. Randolph and I met her in the passage. Her bunk wasn’t slept in. I thought she was working all night.”
“Odd,” Suzanne said. “She’s so reliable. I’ve tried to radio Mira, but I can’t reach her, either. She must have turned off her radio by mistake. The captain wants to go through Bimini customs at eight.”
“Bimini? Aren’t we cruising to Atlantis?” Helen said.
“Change of plans,” she said. “A waterspout was reported to the south of us. The National Weather Service issued a warning.”
“That’s like a tornado, right?” Helen said.
“Right. It wasn’t safe for us to continue the voyage. The captain found shelter in Alice Town and anchored. We’ll clear customs this morning, then sail on. Expect the guests to be grumpy about this change in plans.”
Helen looked out the galley window. The morning sky was dark and velvety, but she saw a narrow silver line on the horizon, the first sign of dawn. In the distance Helen could make out a white cabin cruiser. Two sailboats bobbed close to the yacht.
“There are some battered-looking boats down by the swim platform,” Helen said.
“Oh, good,” Suzanne said. “Hope they’re fishermen. Maybe I can get fresh lobster or fish.”
“You can buy fish from boats you don’t know?” Helen said.
“That’s how a chef gets the catch of the day,” Suzanne said. “Local fishing boats bring it straight to the yacht. They tend to overcharge, but it’s always fresh. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”
Suzanne ran out the galley door. Helen saw the fishing boats were moving away from the
“I told her she shouldn’t go,” Mira said. “But she said last night was the last straw. Now she’s gone.”
“She can’t be,” Suzanne said. Her voice was lower and calmer.
“She took off in that cabin cruiser,” Mira said.
Louise jumped ship? Helen had to know the details. She deserted her post and ran down the circular stairs to
