Baked Alaska (36 page)

“I have a pen right here, dear,” Mary Anne said, opening her purse. “I always keep one in my pocketbook.” She pulled out her rectangular wallet and shifted her purse so she could pull open the snapped closure. Then she flipped open her wallet and pulled the pen out of the leather strap that held it in place. It probably would have been faster for Sadie to get a pen from the tournament desk.

In the process of retrieving the pen, however, Mary Anne fumbled the wallet and dropped it. Sadie immediately bent down to pick it up. As she was standing back up, she glanced at Mary Anne’s driver’s license, then did a double take. It read “Mary Anne Parkinson Rydell.” As Sadie read the name a second time, she pictured the notepaper she’d taken from Officer Jareg’s office yesterday:

Seaboard

Rydell

Baker

Jenskowski

She had thought “Seaboard” was part of the list when she’d seen it two days ago, but what if, instead, it was the
title
of the list and simply missing the proper punctuation? The other words on the list could be last names; and Mary Anne’s was on it. By the time Sadie was fully upright, she’d been able to repair her expression.

“Your last name is Rydell?” she asked as she handed the wallet back. “Isn’t that the name of the high school in the movie
Grease
?”

Mary Anne took her pocketbook back. “I don’t care for that film,” she said. “I was in high school in the ’60s and that show made us all look like a bunch of sex-crazed ninnies. We had values back then, not like the young people today.”

Sadie forced a smile while Mary Anne put the pocketbook back into her purse and handed over the pen. For a moment, Sadie couldn’t remember why she needed the pen because her thoughts were back in Officer Jareg’s office, pondering on that note. She snapped out of it and went about filling in the information on the form while her head spun with more questions. Her eye fell on the brochure for the Seaboard Club the tournament attendant had given her. “So, you were saying the other day that this is your second cruise of the year. You don’t belong to the frequent cruiser club, do you?”

“Oh, yes,” Mary Anne said. She sat down on the bench and moved her purse onto her lap. “Glen and I have been a member of the Seaboard Club for two years now. We’ve cruised four times a year since then.”

“Oh,” Sadie said. What she wouldn’t give to be able to read Filipino and therefore know the context of the note. A quick glance at the staff members in the casino, however, told her that there were plenty of people on the ship who could tell her what the other words of that note said. Assuming she could find someone she could trust not to turn her in for stealing the information in the first place. “Um, what are the benefits of belonging to the club?”

“Well, you get free upgrades on your rooms,” Mary Anne said. “And a flat ten percent discount in all the shops on board the ship, plus all kinds of other perks, like discounted shore excursions. And some of those on-ship tours regular passengers have to pay for are free for us to go on, though not all of them. And then, of course, each trip we get twenty free tokens to get started on the slot machines and half price on the tournament entries—that’s Glen’s favorite part.”

“Oh, I was meaning to tell you,” Sadie said as though she’d just remembered, when in truth she was curious to see Mary Anne’s reaction. If she had something to hide, she wouldn’t like hearing that Sadie had talked to Officer Jareg about her, right? “The security department would like to talk to you about the conversation we had about the guy who died at the buffet.”

“Oh, they already did,” Mary Anne said, waving it away. “I pretended I couldn’t understand their accent. They should have native English speakers in those kinds of positions anyway.”

“Oh,” Sadie said. Mary Anne didn’t seem the least bit worried. “Is that all they talked to you about, then?”

“How should I know? I couldn’t understand a word they said.” She laughed while Sadie tried to keep her own smile in place.

A voice came over the intercom. “The final qualifying round will start in ten minutes. There are still three spots left. Please sign up at the tournament desk.”

“I need to hand this in,” Sadie said before she filled out the last portion of the paper, then hurried back to the registration table and gave the attendant her ship-card so he could charge the entry fee to her room. He gave her a paper with the number five written in black marker and told her to put it on the table.

Mary Anne had walked over to Glen, who was already sitting at the table reserved for the qualifying rounds. He was playing even though he was already the top qualifier from another round? Why?

Sadie headed toward the table on the far side of the casino and stood behind Pete’s chair. He was up $75 but stood as soon as the round was finished, thanked the dealer, and put his chips in his pocket.

“Thanks for signing me up,” he said to Sadie as they moved toward the qualifying table.

“Sure thing,” Sadie said. “Um, just as a reminder, you’re an attorney whenever Mary Anne is around. Have you met Mary Anne?”

Pete shook his head and so Sadie took a few moments when they arrived at the table to introduce him to Mary Anne, who, in turn, introduced both of them to Glen.

Glen was bald on top, with glasses and jowls and a white button-up shirt a shade brighter than the undershirt beneath it. He hardly looked the part of a card shark, but perhaps that was the secret of his success. Luckily, no one asked about Pete’s occupation during the exchange. Pete wished Glen good luck, but Glen didn’t say it back; he was watching intently as the dealer shuffled the decks of cards that would be used in the game.

“Glen already qualified,” Mary Anne bragged, her hands on Glen’s shoulders since he hadn’t stood up for the introductions. “But we’d love for him to beat his score—the
high
score, by the way. Glen’s a master blackjack player.”

“Well, then, it will be a pleasure to play with someone with such skill,” Pete said, offering his hand to Glen. It took a few seconds for Glen to notice Pete’s hand there at all, but Pete just smiled and waited.

When Glen took his hand, he jumped slightly, then looked up at Pete with a little more interest.

“Good luck to you,” Pete said before letting go of Glen’s hand.

Glen mumbled, “Good luck,” and flexed his hand slightly—the way Sadie did after encountering someone with an extremely firm handshake.

“What was that about?” she whispered to Pete as they returned to his seat.

“Just a little friendly intimidation,” Pete said. He took his seat and smiled when Mary Anne glanced his way—as though they were best friends.

“Wow,” Sadie said. “I didn’t realize you were so competitive.”

“I’m not,” Pete said. “But neither do I like to be deemed an easy win. Trying to beat his own high score and can’t even be bothered to be gracious to his wife’s friend? That’s obnoxious.”

“Remind me never to be ungracious,” Sadie said.

Pete winked at her. “Consider yourself warned.”

“By the way,” Sadie said a moment later, leaning down so she could whisper in his ear. “Remember that paper I took from Officer Jareg’s desk with the list of English words at the bottom? I think it’s a list of last names of people who all belong to the Seaboard Club. Glen and Mary Anne’s last name is Rydell, which was the first of the three names on the list.”

Pete understood the significance of that right away. “Really?”

Sadie nodded and explained about Mary Anne’s retelling of how she’d responded to the questions security had asked her. “Weird, right?” she said when she finished.

Pete looked down the table at Glen and Mary Anne.

“Players, please take your seats,” the announcer said into a microphone. “We will begin the final qualifying round as soon as everyone is in position.”

There was no time to discuss it. Mary Anne was standing behind Glen, who sat in the seat second from the end, while Sadie straightened behind Pete, who was in the fifth position of the six players. The sixth seat was taken by a lanky young man who Sadie wasn’t convinced met the age requirement.

Sadie found herself focusing on Glen as the dealer continued to prepare the table. He was incredibly focused, and the game hadn’t even started yet. Sadie put a hand on Pete’s shoulder, and he gave the backs of her fingers a kiss before taking her hand in his and holding it. Sadie continued to watch Glen and Mary Anne while pondering what the list could mean and at the same time reminding herself of what she’d thought when she’d first taken it—that the information on that paper could have nothing at all to do with her interests. And yet, what if it did? She hoped she wasn’t becoming some kind of masochist who was subconsciously addicted to the drama of chaos.

The announcer explained the rules: each player would start with $500 in chips, the dealer stayed at seventeen, splits and double downs were allowed, no touching any other players or spectators during the game. Sadie let go of Pete’s hand and took half a step back. Though Sadie had never gambled as an adult and wasn’t a fan of the gambling industry as a whole, she was glad to know enough about the game to be able to follow along.

The players placed their bets and then the dealer dealt each player their first card, facedown. He dealt his second card faceup—the queen of hearts—and then went around the table, tapping in front of each player who then signaled whether they wanted another card or not. Pete stayed on sixteen, and it turned out to be a good move, since the dealer busted a minute later. Only Pete and Glen doubled their chips on that round.

The cards were cleared and another hand was dealt. This time, Pete split eights, busted on one but got a twenty on the other one—a tie with the dealer, which meant he didn’t lose his second bet, but he didn’t win anything either. One other player also got a stay, but everyone else lost their bets.

Two more rounds, both of which Pete won, put him above the rest of the players.

Sadie was impressed with how well he was doing, but continued thinking about the significance of Mary Anne’s last name being on that note. Maybe she’d won some kind of promotion? Maybe she owed some dues? Sadie needed someone to read that note so she could put her thoughts to rest, if nothing else.

She glanced over at the dealer—his name tag indicated he was from Indonesia. He wouldn’t be able to read the note, not that Sadie had the note with her; she’d left it back in her room. She looked toward the registration table. The staff member who had helped her with Pete’s paperwork was idly tapping his pen and didn’t seem very into the game. He could be Filipino.

It was risky to ask, and Sadie didn’t want to miss watching Pete play so she gave up on the idea for the moment and turned back to the blackjack table.

Pete’s stack of chips was twice the size of anyone else at the table. One of the players was already out, and two of the remaining five players were down to half a dozen chips or less. During the next three rounds, both of those players busted out, leaving Pete, Glen, and the young man next to Pete who didn’t look old enough to play.

Pete seemed to be the least intent of the three, but was clearly winning. Glen looked downright angry, which Sadie found somewhat amusing until she looked at Mary Anne, who stood behind him. Her eyes were narrowed behind her glasses as she watched every move of the dealer just as intently as any of the players did. It was an unexpected reaction. From everything Mary Anne had said about Glen’s gambling, she’d never insinuated that she was into the game much. Seeing her now, however, had Sadie questioning that impression. There were no players in the chairs between Glen and Pete, though quite a crowd had formed around the table.

Sadie moved around the spectators between them in order to get close to Mary Anne. “Do you ever play?” she asked.

Mary Anne didn’t seem to realize Sadie was talking to her for a few moments, then she glanced up. “No,” she said, keeping her attention squarely on the game. “And I thought your boyfriend didn’t play much.”

“He doesn’t,” Sadie said. The older woman’s hands were clenched in fists as she watched both Glen and Pete place their bets. Pete slid half his chips into the betting circle; he was obviously feeling confident.

The dealer dealt the first card—a ten of hearts—and Sadie held her breath. He went around the table to see who wanted additional cards. Pete’s cards totaled twelve—a jack and a two—so he tapped the table to indicate he wanted another card. He got the nine of spades, and Sadie clapped with the spectators. It looked pretty well decided that Pete would win this round.

Within two more hands, only Glen and Pete were left, but Glen was down to ten chips and he looked angry to the point of having flushed cheeks.

Glen was all in with his next bet. Pete matched his bet chip for chip, but compared to how much he could have bet, Pete’s wager was conservative. They both lost, which meant that Glen busted out of the game and Pete was the winner of the round despite holding a losing hand.

The announcer came over and counted out Pete’s chips. “Eight thousand five hundred dollars for Mister Peter Cunningham, who now takes the number-one spot in the tournament, which will start in twenty-five minutes.”

The spectators cheered. Well, everyone but Mary Anne and Glen, who were already walking away. Sadie felt bad that they were disappointed, but their behavior struck her as very poor sportsmanship.

Since there was a twenty-five minute wait until the final tournament, Sadie wondered if now was the best time to find someone to read that note. She really wanted to stop worrying about what it said. If the names had been chosen at random from all the Seaboard Club members and would be featured in some article for the next magazine put out by the cruise line, Sadie would feel bad for all her concerns regarding the Rydells’ inclusion on the list.

The announcer handed Pete a clipboard and asked him to write his name in one box and sign his name in the box beside it. Pete took the pen and entered the information.

Sadie glanced over his shoulder as he was finishing and then grabbed the clipboard out of Pete’s hands.