Final Sail

“Good. Caesar salads for the boys, maybe twice-baked potatoes for them, and we need a dessert.”

“Key lime tarts?” Suzanne said.

“Perfect,” Beth said. “That was easy. Where’s Helen? I want her to take Mitzi.”

Helen ran up from the crew mess. Beth looked cool in white linen with a white and silver necklace. Mitzi looked like the perfect fluffy accessory, right down to her matching collar and silver-trimmed leash.

The little dog yapped a greeting when Beth handed her over. “Pretty collar,” Helen said. “Is that white jade?”

“No, white turquoise,” Beth said.

Helen carried Mitzi downstairs to the crew mess, where she slept in a basket of dirty laundry. When Andrei showed up for lunch, Mitzi growled at him. Helen picked up Mitzi, held her and scratched her ears while Andrei shoveled in his lunch.

“What’s wrong with that crazy dog?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Helen said. “Nothing at all.” Mitzi quit growling when the engineer left. Helen put the drop cloth in the laundry basket and the poodle snoozed on it while Helen worked all afternoon.

When the owners and guests returned at sunset, Helen restored Mitzi to Beth, then served cocktails with a smile. All day long, she’d been counting the hours until she was home with Phil.

Dinner was casual. No one changed into evening dress. Beth and Pepper wore fresh makeup and cruise wear. Pepper’s diamond-and-emerald choker looked outrageously out of place with her slinky silk tank top, but she didn’t care and neither did Scotty.

“She’s lit up like cheap neon,” Rosette whispered to her smirking spouse. Helen noticed Ralph’s narrow eyes were glued to Pepper’s curvy figure.

When the Belted Earl sailed out of the Atlantis marina at nine that night, Helen and Mira were still serving the guests cocktails by starlight. Dinner didn’t start until after eleven. The guests watched the moonlight on the silky water until nearly two in the morning.

Helen could hardly look at the satiny black sea, knowing it had swallowed poor Louise. She wasn’t queasy on the trip home, though her stomach churned a bit when the ship crossed the Gulf Stream.

After the last poker hand folded at three thirty in the morning, Helen and Mira cleaned the sky lounge. At four, Helen finally fell into bed. She dragged herself out of her bunk ninety minutes later.

A quick shower revived her. So did the knowledge that this was her last day. As a special treat, Suzanne made her fabulous coconut bread for both the crew and the owners.

At breakfast on the upper aft deck, Beth looked dramatic in a red and gold silk caftan and a collar of rubies set in gold. Mitzi looked downright silly in a matching ruby collar and red bow. Rosette was drab as a sparrow in brown linen. Pepper nearly blinded the other guests when she wore her emerald-and-diamond choker with a green halter top and miniskirt. The sun danced off the diamonds and shot sparks around the table.

“I can’t believe she’s wearing diamonds in daytime,” Rosette said, with a sneer. “She’s got on more jewelry than clothes.”

Pepper turned to her. “What did you say?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Nothing. I was talking to my husband.” Rosette seemed to shrivel in her chair.

“I saw you laughing,” Pepper said. “Let’s all share in the joke.”

“It wasn’t funny,” Rosette said. “I mentioned to Ralph that it’s unusual to wear diamonds in the daytime.”

“You’re right,” Pepper said. “It wasn’t funny. But if you’ve got it, flaunt it. And you don’t. Stewardess, I’d like more coconut bread, please.”

The Belted Earl docked at the marina at eleven that morning. The staff lined up in their dress uniforms to bid the owners and guests farewell. Pepper and Scotty had given big tips. Mira had gotten a hundred dollars. Helen’s tip was two hundred. She wondered if Pepper was atoning for the wine incident.

You can buy forgiveness, she told herself, as she pocketed the two crisp bills.

Matt and Sam carried the luggage to the waiting limousines.

As Beth wafted past Andrei carrying Mitzi, the poodle suddenly squirmed and struggled out of her mistress’s arms. Beth lost the battle to hold on to her pet.

“Mitzi! What’s wrong with you?” Beth asked.

The poodle ran straight for Andrei and chomped his ankle in the same spot she’d bitten him before.

“Worthless mutt!” the engineer said. He grabbed the poodle by her throat and shook her until her jeweled collar rattled. Mitzi fought to bite him again.

“I ought to break your pointless neck,” Andrei said. The little dog squealed and sank her sharp teeth into his hand.

“Don’t hurt Mitzi!” Beth screamed.

“Drop that dog,” Earl shouted.

Andrei kept shaking the poodle.

Josiah waded into the shrieking, screaming cluster and pulled Mitzi off Andrei’s hand. Her teeth left deep bloody scrapes in the engineer’s skin.

“Andrei, you’re fired,” the captain said.

CHAPTER 32

The caravan of black Lincoln Town Cars was rumbling out of the marina parking lot when the yacht cleanup began. The crew moved so rapidly, Helen thought someone hit a fast-forward button.

By the time the third Lincoln left the lot, the deckhand and bosun had zipped all the canvas covers on the deck furniture. Mira had stripped the master stateroom bed and was scrubbing the shower.

“Hurry!” she said. “I have to get to the airport.”

Helen stripped the guest stateroom beds, dusted away Scotty’s ash for the last time and vacuumed the carpets.

As she rushed through the secret passage, arms piled with damp towels and soiled sheets, she saw Carl leaning in the doorway of the cabin he shared with Andrei. Helen slowed slightly to hear their conversation.

“That’s all you got?” the first mate drawled. “Those three bags?”

“Yes. And I do not think it is fair—” Andrei said, his voice a surly whine.

“Not my decision,” Carl said, cutting him off. “Where are your uniforms?”

“In the closet,” Andrei said. “The captain, he does this because I am foreigner.” Helen noticed Andrei’s accent thickened not only when he was drunk, but also when he was upset. She could feel his rage. The cramped cabin was too small to contain it.

“You’ve got a green card,” Carl said. “You’re taking a job away from a real American. Bet you bought yourself a green card marriage on the Internet.”

“My green card is legal,” Andrei said. “That is why I have job on American-registered boat.”

Carl’s drawl stretched like taffy. “Don’t see your dress uniform there, Andrei. Where is it?”

“Don’t know,” Andrei said, his voice higher.

“I think you do,” Carl said, slowly. “You still have to go through U.S. Customs. What would happen if they got an anonymous tip about your marriage? You got any wedding pictures? Still living with your wife? I bet you don’t even know where she is anymore. You can get shipped back to Bulgaria if your marriage is a fraud.”

Silence. Then Andrei said, “I might have accidentally packed it.” He sounded like a surly child.

“Well, accidentally unpack it,” Carl said.

Helen heard a zipping sound. Then Carl said, “Thank you. Soon as the captain gets back from escorting the owners and guests to their plane, he’ll hightail it to immigration at Port Everglades with you and the new stew.”