Dreamboat (26 page)

“Oh, my God,” she said. “Walking back from dinner was tricky, but it's that bad?”

“Yes,” Luca replied. “Especially with a lot of the older people. If this lasts for a few hours, people get antsy and want to get out and move around. They end up being thrown off their feet, take some bad falls.”

“So the hospital's going to be busier than usual,” she said.

“That's an understatement,” he said. “A lot of people panic, too,
especially unseasoned travelers. This place is going to have people hanging from the rafters. It happens a lot in this area.”

“What do you mean?”

“More or less where the Mediterranean and the Atlantic meet,” he replied. “It can get really rough. Add bad weather to that, and you've got the perfect recipe for a lot of sick and wounded passengers.” He paused, then added, “I'm so sorry, Crissy. There's no way I'll be able to meet you tonight.”

“I'm sorry, too,” she said. She tried to conceal her frustration and disappointment. “But it won't be long.”

“No,” he agreed. “I'll call when I get a chance. Just remember that I'll be thinking of you.”

“I'll be thinking of you, too,” she said.

She hung up the receiver and sighed.
Damn.

Turning around, she glanced about the cabin.
Jenny is such a sloppy pig,
she thought, seeing underwear strewn all over her bed.
She could have thrown her dirty underwear on her own bed.
She went to the bed and started to pick up the underwear and toss it on Jenny's bed, but after picking up a pair of panties, she let out a shriek and dropped them as if they had scorched her hand.

“Oh, my God!” she wailed. “Oh, my God!” She backed away, her hand over her mouth, her eyes riveted to the ghastly sight on her bed. Her stomach twisted into a knot, and for a moment she thought she would throw up. The acrid taste of bile rose in her throat, but she managed to control the urge to expel it. She felt sweat bead her brow and the back of her neck, and she began to tremble.

The underwear—
her
underwear—had been slashed into tatters. Bras, panties, panty hose, and slips lay strewn across her bed in coils, as if they were poisonous snakes. Crissy felt as though she herself had been slashed, her body cut up haphazardly by a knife-wielding maniac and left in obscene, bloody pieces in some sick, twisted ritual.

The telephone bleeted, and she jerked as if bitten.
Oh, God, no!
she thought, putting her hands over her ears.
Not again. It can't be. Please, God. No.
Then, as before, it occurred to her that it might be Luca. She looked at the telephone, and it bleeted again. Her breath caught in her throat. How could something inanimate, a simple piece of plastic and metal and wire, have such power over her? She decided that she wouldn't allow it to. She slowly advanced toward the telephone, one hand on the vanity/desk surface for support, and picked up the receiver.

“Hello,” she said, her voice as calm as she could manage.

The sound of breathing assaulted her senses, threatening to make her spin out of control.

“Damn you!” she cried, slamming the receiver down.

She stood, her body trembling, gazing at the floor. There were tears in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry.
That's the last thing I'm going to do,
she told herself.
I'm not going to cry. I'm going to get the bastard who's doing this.

She grabbed her shoulder bag and went to the cabin door, prepared to get help, but thought better of it. First, she thought, she would take pictures of her bed so she would have a record of the perverse crime that had been perpetrated against her. She retrieved her camera from her shoulder bag, then took several photographs of her bed from various angles. That done, she put the camera back in her shoulder bag and went back to the door. She had to grasp the handle and hold on as the ship rolled to port. When her feet felt more secure on the floor, she opened the door and went out into the corridor, determined to find help.

Chapter Fourteen

S
he left the cabin in furious haste, heading for the Information Desk one deck below. She didn't know who to talk to, but she would find someone out there.

At the semicircular Information Desk, a young man looked up at her quizzically. “How may I help you?” he asked.

“I want to talk to someone in Security,” Crissy replied. “At least that's who I think I should talk to.”

A plump young woman with a halo of frizzy black hair who was busy at a computer keyboard next to him—M
ARIA
, her name tag read—looked up when she heard Crissy's request.

“What seems to be the problem?” the young man asked.

“I've been getting obscene telephone calls,” Crissy said, “and tonight I returned to my cabin to find my underwear torn up and thrown on my bed. Is there anyone here with authority whom I can speak with?”

The young man didn't reply immediately, but the woman sitting near him spoke up. “I think she should talk to the captain. Wait just a minute,” Maria said, holding up a finger. She lifted her considerable heft out of the chair and disappeared into an office behind the Information Desk.

Crissy didn't have to wait long before the woman reappeared. “Follow me,” she said, nodding toward the office door. Going around the semicircular desk, Crissy went into the office. “Have a seat,” Maria said. “He'll be down here in just a minute.” She went back out to the Information Desk, closing the door behind her.

Crissy had hardly sat down before an inner office door opened, and the
captain strode in, the smile he perpetually wore replaced by a look of concern that seemed sincere. “What's the problem?” he asked.

“I've gotten a couple of phones calls from a ‘breather,' ” Crissy said. “Then this evening I came in, and somebody had torn up my underwear and thrown it all over the bed.”

The captain looked appalled. “Let's go,” he said, already heading toward the door. “I want to see this myself.”

Crissy followed the captain out of the office. He was fast on his feet, seeming to move with the ship, which was no easy task, since the seas had become increasingly rough in the last couple of hours and the boat was pitching and rolling.

He saw Crissy grasp a rail along the corridor wall. “The trick,” he said, “is to walk sort of sideways.” He looked at her and grinned. “Each step is a forward one, but just slightly to the side. Practice and see how you do.”

Crissy discovered that he knew what he was talking about. Aping his walk helped her keep her balance and keep up with him. He moved swiftly, and then she remembered the beautiful way he danced. When they reached her cabin, he stood back for her to swipe her key card.

Inside, she showed him to her bed. “This is exactly the way I found it,” she said. “Except that I picked up a pair of panties and threw them back down when I realized what had happened.”

The captain was visibly shaken. “This is deplorable,” he said. “Very sick.” He looked at her. “What was it about telephone calls?”

She told him about the calls and her suspicions.

The captain sighed, looked down at the floor, then back up at her. “I'm sorry you've had to go through something like this,” he said. “It's disgusting. You say you suspected Mark Vilos?”

Crissy nodded. “I did, but probably unfairly.” She explained the situation to him.

“I see,” he said, looking thoughtful. “And these calls and this”—he gestured toward the shredded underwear on the bed—“happened just after you came in?”

“Yes.”

“So you were out on dates at dinner?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Then your friend obviously couldn't have done this because you were with him,” he said, thinking aloud. He looked at her. “I'm sorry. I don't
mean to insult you or your friend, but in cases like this it sometimes is someone close, I believe. You're traveling with Ms. . . . her name eludes me. . . .”

“Jenny Blakemore,” Crissy said.

“Yes, I've met her in the disco,” he replied. “I think we'll have to get a list of the people you know on the ship. Your friends, acquaintances, anyone you've dated.”

“I-I have to list . . . everyone?” she asked.

He nodded. “We've got to find out who's doing this,” the captain said. “I don't think it's a laughing matter.”

“Neither do I,” Crissy replied. “It's just that . . . Well, I'm dating someone . . . someone who is employed by the shipping lines.”

The captain's eyes lit up momentarily, then he waved a hand dismissively. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I know it happens, even if it's not supposed to.”

“I just don't want to involve him any more than I have to,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I'm going to go stir up Mikelos Christopolous and get him on this. He's the head of security on the ship and very good at his job. In the meantime, if you will, please sit down and make a list of all the people you know on the ship. Give that to him when he gets here.”

“Fine,” Crissy said.

“He'll take it from there, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to come to me.” He took a wallet out of his trouser pocket and extracted a card from it. “My private telephone number is here. Don't hesitate to call me at any time, day or night. I'll be in touch with Mikelos, so he'll keep me abreast of things.”

“Thank you so much,” Crissy said.

“Do you feel a little more secure?” the captain asked.

Crissy nodded. “Yes.” She looked toward the bed. “Should I leave this mess for him to see or can I clean it up? I took some photos.”

“Very smart thinking,” the captain said, “but I would leave things the way they are until he comes.” He headed to the door crisply. On his way out he said, “Remember. Call me if you need to. Christopolous is good at what he does, like I said, and I'll be speaking with him immediately.”

“Thanks again,” Crissy said, bolstered by the thought that help was on the way. She looked around at the violence spread over her bed and shuddered. The pervert who did this had to be stopped.

Jenny awoke after a short doze, and he was sitting up in bed, wearing a bathrobe, staring down at her. She smiled at him and stretched, then threw off the bedcovers and slid out of bed, standing before him naked.

“I'll be right back,” she said, and went to the bathroom.

When she came back into the bedroom, she stopped and stared at him. He had taken off the bathrobe and was spread out on the bed, his head propped up on pillows. His hand was between his thighs, and he was stroking himself. He was fully aroused, and there was a look of grim determination on his face.

“Come here,” he said.

She stepped toward the bed hesitantly.
Oh, God,
she thought.
Not now. Not again.
Her mouth was dry, and she had a headache, the result of a copious amount of champagne.

“Come on,” he said, continuing to stroke himself.

Jenny complied, going to the bed, where she sat down facing him. She smiled and licked her lips, hoping to give the appearance of a lascivious appetite, although she was in fact merely trying to lubricate them.

He nodded and looked down at his aroused state, and Jenny got the message. Sliding closer to him, she reached over, brushing her hand across his thighs then between them as if she truly wanted him. Tentatively at first, she took him in her hand and held him gingerly before she began stroking slowly, looking up into his eyes, then back down at his engorged manhood.

He groaned with pleasure, removing his hand and letting her do the work, but only moments passed until he grasped her head between both of his hands. Pushing her hair back away from her face with his fingers, he shoved her head down with surprising strength, intent on her taking him in her mouth.

Jenny wanted to recoil in revulsion, but told herself it was what she had to do, must do. Besides, she thought, she'd done it countless times before, hadn't she? His was just another cock in a long line of them, smaller than some, larger than others. The big difference was that his was the key to unlocking a huge fortune that came with a powerful family of international repute and all the trappings that implied. What could be sexier? With that thought, she overcame her disgust and flicked at him with her tongue, teasing him, enjoying his whimpers of desire, making certain that her breasts brushed against his legs tauntingly. She began licking him as if
she was desperate for him, and finally took him into her mouth as if his was the most desirable cock in the world.

He emitted a long, low moan as she laved him with her tongue, moving her head from side to side and up and down, his hands pushing down on it relentlessly, forcing as much of himself inside her as possible. He came quickly, letting out a little grunt, then relaxed his hold on her.

Jenny went into the bathroom without saying anything, then came back out. His eyes were closed, and he looked like a dead man, she thought, except that she could see the rise and fall of his chest. She slid onto the bed again, cuddling next to him. “That was wonderful,” she cooed into his ear, playing her role to the hilt.

He opened his eyes and smiled. “You are wonderful,” he replied. “You make me feel like a new man.”

Yeah, me and all that Viagra you take,
Jenny thought. “It makes me feel so . . . so . . . well, fabulous that I make you happy,” she said. “You know how I've played around. It's no secret. But I've been so desperate, and no one has shown me any real love. With you, it's different. I know you don't want me just for my body, and it doesn't really matter to me so much about the sex. It's you. All of you. Your goodness and integrity. Your wisdom and fairness.”

When he didn't reply, she struggled for more words. Words that would bolster his ego, words that would make her look good in his eyes. “You know I don't need your money: I've got enough of my own. No, it's not that. It's who you are, deep down inside that matters to me.”

He turned to her and smiled. “Well said,” he replied. “I think you are quite the diplomat, Jenny.” He patted her bare thigh.

You bet I am,
she thought. She smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Ludwig,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes. “Coming from a Von Meckling, I will accept that as a great compliment.”

The old doctor nodded slightly. “Yes, my dear,” he said. “Indeed, it is one of the highest compliments I could give you.”

Jenny smiled as if thrilled.
I'll get you, you old goat
, she thought.
You and your ancient name and all your beautiful money and estates and the prestige and social standing that go with them. And when you're gone—only a matter of a few short years at the most—I can have any man in the world I want.

“Oh, Ludwig,” she cooed, “you make me so happy.”

The door opened, and a tall behemoth of a man filled the doorway. He was big-boned and muscular-looking, but his smile was friendly. “Ms. Fitzgerald,” he said, offering his hand, “Mikelos Christopolous.” Crissy took it to shake, and her hand was engulfed by his huge, meaty paw of a hand. “Mind if I look around?” he asked.

“Of course not,” she replied.

Mikelos Christopolous stepped into the cabin, his eyes scanning the room. He stopped at the bed, staring down at the torn underwear. “Does all of this belong to you?” he asked.

Crissy nodded. “Yes.”

“None of it belongs to your travel companion?”

“No, it's all mine,” she said. “None of it belongs to Jenny.”

He stared down at the bed again. “Odd,” he said after a few moments.

“What's that?”

“There doesn't appear to be any evidence of seminal fluid,” he replied. He looked at her with intelligent eyes. “That's often the case,” he added.

“I see,” Crissy said.

“Did you move anything here?” he asked.

“I picked up a pair of panties,” Crissy said. She walked to the side of the bed and pointed to them. “Those black ones. Then I threw them back down.”

“Don't touch anything else,” he said. “I'm going to have our forensics man come up and take pictures then bag everything. You never know what he might find.”

“I took some pictures with my digital camera,” Crissy said.

“Very good,” Christopolous said. “If you don't mind, I'll take your camera with me and download your pictures. We'll have yours to supplement his. I'll get your camera back to you right away.”

“That's fine,” she said.

Christopolous took a small notepad and pen from a pocket. “Now, Ms. Fitzgerald,” he said. “If you—”

“Crissy, please.”

“And I'm Mikelos,” he replied with a smile. “If you don't mind answering some questions?”

“Not at all.”

“Okay,” he said, looking over at her. “Let's have a seat, then I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”