the faint sounds of Cookie sobbing. Oh, dear. Something was obviously very wrong.
I needed to find out what I could do to help. But first I had to tend to Prozac, who had assumed her morning position on my chest, clawing me for her breakfast.
I staggered out of bed to get her some roast beef I’d had the foresight to pick up last night at the buffet bar. I’d stored it in the cabin’s mini-fridge, along with the $6 Cokes and $20 half bottles of wine. (Apparently beverages were not included in my free cruise, a happy tidbit of info I was not to discover until checkout time.)
“Here you go, Pro,” I said, putting the meat down in front of her.
She sniffed at it dismissively.
I don’t do leftovers.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Pro, you’ll eat it and like it.”
It was about time I laid down the law with that cat.
Ignoring the death ray looks she was shooting me, I headed to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. After which I grabbed the Holiday Cruise Lines robe in my closet (only $95, should I choose to keep it), threw it on over my I My Cat nightshirt, and headed for the door.
Prozac, who was once more sniffing the roast beef, tried to make me feel guilty with one of her Starving Orphan looks.
If you really hearted your cat, you’d be getting me fresh-baked ham from the buffet bar.
“For once, just do me a favor and cooperate.”
And what do you know? After a beat of hesitation, the little devil actually started eating.
Grateful for small miracles, I scooted next door to Cookie’s cabin. She came to the door, ashen faced, her eyes rimmed with mascara she hadn’t bothered to wash off.
“Cookie, what’s going on?”
She ushered me inside and sank down onto her bed.
“Graham’s dead,” she said, her eyes glazed with disbelief. “Murdered. Stabbed in the heart with an ice pick.”
Omigod. So that’s what happened to Anton’s missing ice picks.
“They found his body early this morning out on the Lido Deck, the ice pick still in his heart. They think I did it. The security guys were here just now searching my cabin for some cuff links the old lady gave him. They think whoever killed him stole the cuff links, too.”
Tears began streaming down her cheeks.
“They’re going to arrest me, Jaine. I’m sure of it.”
“Can they do that without the police?”
She nodded wearily.
“On board ship, the captain makes the laws. They can do anything they want.”
“But they don’t have any evidence.”
“Are you kidding? Three hundred people in the Grand Showroom heard me telling Graham he didn’t deserve to live.”
“That’s not nearly enough to convict you in a court of law.”
“But that’s not all, Jaine.” She took a deep, shuddery breath. “I was at the scene of the crime.”
Ouch.
“Graham called me about one in the morning and begged me to meet him out on deck. And like an idiot, I went. He said that hooking up with Emily was the opportunity of a lifetime and that he couldn’t afford to pass up the money. He said it wouldn’t be long till she kicked the bucket and he inherited her money. After that, he promised, we’d get married. In the meanwhile, he wanted to see me on the side. Can you believe the nerve of that guy? Expecting me to hang around waiting for the poor old biddy to die?”
She got up now and began pacing, angered at the memory.
“At that moment I knew he’d never marry me. He played me for a fool, just like he was playing Emily for a fool. I lost it then and told him what a miserable creep he was. Then I ripped off that stupid pendant he gave me and threw it in his face.”
“And they found the pendant when they found his body?”
“With my fingerprints all over it.” She nodded glumly. “Not to mention my initials engraved on the damn thing.”
I gulped in dismay.
“And it gets worse.”
How was that possible?
“They’ve got an eyewitness who saw me. Eddie Romero, one of the other Gentlemen Escorts.
“Oh, Jaine,” she cried,
I needed to find out what I could do to help. But first I had to tend to Prozac, who had assumed her morning position on my chest, clawing me for her breakfast.
I staggered out of bed to get her some roast beef I’d had the foresight to pick up last night at the buffet bar. I’d stored it in the cabin’s mini-fridge, along with the $6 Cokes and $20 half bottles of wine. (Apparently beverages were not included in my free cruise, a happy tidbit of info I was not to discover until checkout time.)
“Here you go, Pro,” I said, putting the meat down in front of her.
She sniffed at it dismissively.
I don’t do leftovers.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Pro, you’ll eat it and like it.”
It was about time I laid down the law with that cat.
Ignoring the death ray looks she was shooting me, I headed to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. After which I grabbed the Holiday Cruise Lines robe in my closet (only $95, should I choose to keep it), threw it on over my I My Cat nightshirt, and headed for the door.
Prozac, who was once more sniffing the roast beef, tried to make me feel guilty with one of her Starving Orphan looks.
If you really hearted your cat, you’d be getting me fresh-baked ham from the buffet bar.
“For once, just do me a favor and cooperate.”
And what do you know? After a beat of hesitation, the little devil actually started eating.
Grateful for small miracles, I scooted next door to Cookie’s cabin. She came to the door, ashen faced, her eyes rimmed with mascara she hadn’t bothered to wash off.
“Cookie, what’s going on?”
She ushered me inside and sank down onto her bed.
“Graham’s dead,” she said, her eyes glazed with disbelief. “Murdered. Stabbed in the heart with an ice pick.”
Omigod. So that’s what happened to Anton’s missing ice picks.
“They found his body early this morning out on the Lido Deck, the ice pick still in his heart. They think I did it. The security guys were here just now searching my cabin for some cuff links the old lady gave him. They think whoever killed him stole the cuff links, too.”
Tears began streaming down her cheeks.
“They’re going to arrest me, Jaine. I’m sure of it.”
“Can they do that without the police?”
She nodded wearily.
“On board ship, the captain makes the laws. They can do anything they want.”
“But they don’t have any evidence.”
“Are you kidding? Three hundred people in the Grand Showroom heard me telling Graham he didn’t deserve to live.”
“That’s not nearly enough to convict you in a court of law.”
“But that’s not all, Jaine.” She took a deep, shuddery breath. “I was at the scene of the crime.”
Ouch.
“Graham called me about one in the morning and begged me to meet him out on deck. And like an idiot, I went. He said that hooking up with Emily was the opportunity of a lifetime and that he couldn’t afford to pass up the money. He said it wouldn’t be long till she kicked the bucket and he inherited her money. After that, he promised, we’d get married. In the meanwhile, he wanted to see me on the side. Can you believe the nerve of that guy? Expecting me to hang around waiting for the poor old biddy to die?”
She got up now and began pacing, angered at the memory.
“At that moment I knew he’d never marry me. He played me for a fool, just like he was playing Emily for a fool. I lost it then and told him what a miserable creep he was. Then I ripped off that stupid pendant he gave me and threw it in his face.”
“And they found the pendant when they found his body?”
“With my fingerprints all over it.” She nodded glumly. “Not to mention my initials engraved on the damn thing.”
I gulped in dismay.
“And it gets worse.”
How was that possible?
“They’ve got an eyewitness who saw me. Eddie Romero, one of the other Gentlemen Escorts.
“Oh, Jaine,” she cried,
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