I Have a Secret (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Three) (3 page)

BOOK: I Have a Secret (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Three)
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After Rita’s one-woman show was over, she escorted Stephen, by the hand, out of the room like someone pulling a dog on a leash after he’d been scolded.  At the same time, Trista walked in—minus Doug—with a look of concern on her face.  She sized up everyone in the room and then bowed her head and stared at the floor. 

I looked at Giovanni.  “I’ll be right back.”

“Everything all right?”

“I’m not sure.  Ask me again in five minutes.”

 I made my way over to Trista and said, “Are you okay?”

She shook her head.  “I spoke to Doug earlier out on the balcony.  He said he was only going to be out there for a minute and then he’d join me, but he never did.”

I looked around.  “Have you checked your room?  Maybe he was tired and decided to call it a night.”

“I’ve been there already—he wasn’t there.  The bed is still made up too.  I don’t think he’s been back there since we left for dinner.  Usually if he’s had enough to drink for the night he goes back to our cabin and passes out on the bed, but…”

Candice sauntered across the room taking it upon herself to join our conversation.  Her face was still bright red on one side from the embedded handprint that stung it several minutes earlier.  “What’s the matter, Tris—lose someone?”

“This doesn’t concern you, Candice,” Trista said. 

“Doesn’t it?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been up to all week.”

Candice batted her store-bought eyelashes.  “I have no idea what you mean.”

Trista grimaced.  “Do you really think I haven’t noticed you making eyes at my husband since the moment we stepped on the boat?” 

Candice put her hand over her mouth and laughed.  “What a crazy accusation.  There’s nothing going on.”

Trista put on a brave face, but her eyes were satiated with tears.

“I know there isn’t,” she said, her voice shaky.  “And there won’t be—not now, not ever.”

Candice leaned over and whispered loud enough for both of us to hear.  “Trista sweetie, if I wanted your husband, I would have already had him.  Oops.  I forgot.  I have.”

Trista surged forward.  Her outstretched hands curled inward like a cat’s paws, ready to strike.  I stepped in between the two of them.  “Get lost, Candice,” I said.  “Now.”

Candice swirled her pointer finger at me and jabbed me in the chest with it.  “Or what, Sloane?  This doesn’t involve you.”

In that moment, my mind only processed one thing: Candice’s fat finger pressed into me like she was the teacher and I was her student.  I looked at Trista, “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” and then I grabbed Candice by the finger that penetrated my personal space and escorted her to the hall. 

“Where’s your room?” I said.

Candice smirked.  “Like I’d tell you.”

“Fine.  Mine it is then.” 

I yanked her over to the elevator.    

“Get your hands off me!” she said.  “I’m not about to get in there with you.”

She may have had the body back in the day, but I had the muscle.  I shoved her in and pressed the button and the doors sealed shut.  My hand remained affixed to her arm, and I didn’t say a word while we ascended and then came to a halt on the fourth floor.  Candice, on the other hand, let out her best scream.  On a scale of one to ten, it was a three at best, and when the doors re-opened, it was still the two of us.  I shoved Candice out and over to room 418 where I scanned my key card, opened the door and forced her inside.  Once it was shut behind me, I wrapped my right arm around the front of her and hooked my left hand around her neck until I had her in a choke hold.   

“Sloane, what the—why are you doing this to me!”

“Shut your mouth and listen.  I know you get your kicks from messing with other women’s husbands, but it stops…now.  If I so much as see one of your eyeballs slant in the direction of another woman’s man before this trip is over, I’ll yank them from their sockets.  Do you understand me?”

Candice sneered and went silent.  I applied more pressure. 

“Sloane…you’re…choking…me.”

“Nod if we have an agreement.”

She moved her head what little she could and I let her go.   “Good, now get out of my room.”

Candice thrust her hands around her neck like I’d just broken it.  “If I could just say—”

I pointed to the door.  “I said get out!”

It took several minutes to bring myself back to center.  Once I did I returned to the room where Trista was waiting.  She had a confused look on her face.  “What happened to Candice?”

I bobbed my shoulders up and down.  “I’m not sure, but my guess is she won’t return to the party tonight.  Now let’s get back to Doug.  Any change?”

She shook her head.

“How long ago did you see him on the balcony?” I said.

“An hour ago, maybe.”

“Could he be hanging out by the bar on one of the other decks or in the poker room?”

She shook her head.  “He doesn’t play card games, never has.  And he told me he would be right in.  He may fall short in some ways, but when he tells me he’s going to do something, he’s a man of his word.”

I waved Giovanni over and gave him the I’ll-fill-you-in-later look.  “Trista’s husband is missing.  I’m going to help her search for him.  If you want to go back to the room and wait for me, I’ll join you as soon as—”

He placed a hand on my wrist.  “What can I do to help?”

There were a total of six decks on the ship.  After we walked to the photo section of the boat where all the pictures were displayed and Trista showed Giovanni what Doug looked like, the three of us split up and took two decks each.  We made a plan to meet back in an hour regardless of whether we found him or not. 

On my way out, Giovanni said, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“On the balcony,” I said, “like we just discussed.”

“Not without this…”

 He removed his suit jacket, wrapped it around me, winked and left the room.

“Your husband is easy on the eyes,” Trista said.  “And so thoughtful.”

Heat generated around my face, and I wondered how many shades of red I’d turned.  “Oh, he’s not my husband,” I said.  “He’s my, umm…we are, ah, he’s my date.  We’re dating.”

Forty-five minutes and two decks later, I’d found nothing but two teenagers getting frisky in the hot tub by the pool and a whole lot of people wandering around like happy hour had rocked steady for the past twelve hours.  I wondered if Giovanni and Trista had better luck, but when I walked back into the atrium and saw the disappointed looks on their faces, I knew they hadn’t found Doug either. 

“Nothing?” I said.

Trista shook her head. 

“Show me where you last saw him,” I said.

“I’m not sure how that will help.  It’s so dark out, we won’t be able to see anything.  And anyway, he’s not there now.”

Giovanni walked over to the bar and summoned the man behind the counter.  “Excuse me, my date thinks she may have lost one of her diamond earrings outside.  I’m in need of a flashlight.”

The man behind the counter nodded and called out to a kid that looked like a penguin in a purple vest.  A few minutes later Giovanni returned, flashlight in hand, and the three of us headed outside.  We walked about fifteen feet from the door and Trista stopped.  “This is it,” she said.  “He stood against this railing.”

“Are you certain?” I said.

She nodded.  “I can tell because I remember him being by one of those round life preserver thingies.”

Giovanni flicked on the flashlight and scanned the area.  The light ran up and down the railing and then he stopped and glared at the deck for a few moments. 

“What is it?” Trista said.  “Did you find something?”

Giovanni gave me a strange look and then stared back at Trista.  “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.” 

“Mind if I try?” I said.

Giovanni handed the flashlight over, but gripped it for a moment before letting it loose in my hand.  It was then I realized he’d found something but didn’t want to say what it was.  I gave him a slight nod and knelt down and peered at the planks lining the deck next to where Doug had been standing.  I didn’t see anything at first, but then I noticed a series of splotches that looked like they’d been smeared.  I leaned in to get a better look, and when I did, I was surrounded by what looked like dried paint.  Only it wasn’t.  I was familiar with the particular shade of red, and it only came in one tint: Blood.  

 

“Neither of you see anything, are you sure?” Trista said.

I hated lying to her, but I didn’t see the sense in causing her to worry until I figured out what had happened.    

Trista braced herself against the railing and wound her fingers around it like she was holding on for dear life.  I placed my hand on her shoulder.  “You look exhausted.  Why don’t you go back to your room and rest for a while?  Let us keep looking and see what we can find out, and I’ll stop in and check on you in a bit.”

“I can’t,” she said.  “Not while Doug’s out here somewhere.  I’m embarrassed to say this, but he had a lot to drink tonight.  I mean, he always does, but tonight he seemed more out of it than usual.  It was like something triggered him.  Maybe he couldn’t remember how to get back to the room and he’s in someone else’s—”

Trista twisted up her face, and it was obvious what she was thinking—Candice hadn’t returned to the party. 

“I need to check on something,” she said, and she walked back inside.

I turned to Giovanni.  “Don’t most ships have surveillance cameras these days?”

“This one would—yes.”

“Good.  I’m going to check into it.  Will you keep an eye on her?”

It took about twenty minutes, but eventually I found a room set up with over a dozen miniature-sized televisions.  The different screens offered multiple angles of the ship and refreshed at five-second intervals.  I got closer and peeked through the small window for a better view.  Two boys sat at a long desk that spanned the length of the room.  One had nodded off, and the other was engrossed in a magazine—the kind most teenage boys hid between their mattresses so mom would never see.
  Perfect.

I twisted the knob and opened the door. 

The boy with the magazine glanced up and then hurled it over to the corner of the room.  When the magazine landed it sprawled open to a full page spread causing the boy’s cheeks to light up like a motel sign on Hollywood and Vine.  The other boy remained in his comatose state.  

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