“Wrong answer. Throw him in,” ordered the shorter man.
“No, wait. I didn’t hear–“
One of the boss’s men, towering over the crewmember, took a swift swing with the hard toe off his shoe and struck the steward’s jaw. Two of the hefty men dragged the limp body toward the edge of the deck. Then, as one beefy man grabbed under the steward’s shoulders the other accomplice picked up the man’s feet. Together they flung the porter’s body over the rail into the cold black waters below.
Their boss, who stood a foot less in stature, looked over the rail and back at one of his men who loomed above him.
“Now, you two leave and search Peter’s room,” their boss ordered.
He dusted the memory of these two interruptions to his life as one would brush away a speck of lint from their clothing. No one challenges Vernon McCarthy.
Chapter 2
Packing
Splash!
The sudden slap against my back awoke me. My eyes opened to the night sky and the chill of the black water enveloped my body. A huge edifice loomed before me as I drifted away. Rocking back and forth upon the liquid black ink, I could no longer see the grand ship as the floating city grew smaller.
“Ahhhh,” I inhaled and then I coughed to get the chocking sensation out of my throat.
Sitting straight up from my sleeping position, I tore off my wet nightshirt. I grabbed my water bottle to sooth my airway, and rose out of bed to head for the bathroom. After I splashed water on my face, I looked up into my mirror above the sink.
“God, I haven’t had this bad of a dream since my Henry died,” I thought gazing into my reflection.
I patted my face dry and walked over to my upholstered chair. There I picked up my tshirt and denim jean I had laid there last night. My black toy poodle wandered in to the bedroom. I’m Susan Edwards. I live in Firth, Idaho, which is a small town of 471 farm people and workers that grow grows potatoes and wheat. I’m not a farmer but a town gal, a recent widow. At least it feels recent.
Almost a year ago, my husband was murdered. With the help of my friends, we discovered who ran his car off the Snake River Bridge in Blackfoot, Idaho south of here. You see, I was a total wreck then and Trisha, my neighbor, and good friend helped me out with the little things around the house, like feed my dog or find someone to mow my lawn. I wasn’t able to cope with taking care of all the technical repair jobs my Henry did around the house at that horrid time in my life.
I always reflect on the moment in time. What if I hadn’t been sucked into that hollow planet called Vesda? If I hadn’t met the people living there, would I have discovered who killed my husband? I guess I’ll never know.
Last Christmas was the best one ever with all my friends in town, my unusual acquaintances from the defunct World of Vesda, and my sister who lives in Idaho Falls north of here. Everyone came to my home. That’s when I decided to give Trisha and Larry Paige a present for all their help when my husband died and assistance when I got into trouble.
After Henry died, I inherited a large payment of insurance money and gave my dearest friends two airline and cruise tickets to Hawaii. I wanted them to have something for their time and for being there for me when I needed them. Trisha came back and said, “Friendship is the only gift friends need.” At first, I thought they would turn me down when they went off alone to talk about it. They returned and showed they had bought me a ticket so I could go with them. That was two months ago and now I realized on this Monday our plane flight is in two days, this Wednesday.
From under my small flower vase on the vanity, I pulled out the paperwork for my airline ticket and the cruise key pass I had received in the mail. One of them was a brochure.
“The Swedish Star is one of the largest cruise ships in the Pacific Rim that sails from seven to eleven days around four of the Hawaiian Islands. The average ship length of this fleet is nine hundred and sixty-five feet long and sixteen decks high. Cabins vary in price and space from a simple style of having one porthole or none to the lavish suites on the top decks with wide windows and balconies. Capacity is 3500 people including the ship’s crew.”
I stuffed the valuable documents deep into my large purse on the chair. Looking around my bedroom, trying to decide what to do next, I glanced over my to-do list and noticed that I’d better call my friend, René, about watching my dog while I’m on out of town.
Henry, my late husband, and I took a trip to Hawaii years ago, but he’s gone now. “God, how I miss him,” I thought. If it wasn’t for that awful woman who murdered him, we could both be enjoying this trip. Pushing the sorrowful memories to the back of my mind, I thought about my next project on my list, locating my suitcase.
While I rummaged in the closet, my little black poodle trotted into the bedroom and pawed on my slacks to see what I was doing. I struggled a bit but I managed to pull my rolling luggage out from under the shoeboxes and hanging clothes. At first, I couldn’t recall the last time I had to use this suitcase but then I remembered when Henry and I stayed at the lodge in Yellowstone. Our visit was just before Thanksgiving. Now that was a confusing holiday. Oh well, I sighed and turned around to address my dear little Mickie.
“I’d better call René before I forget,”
