Cruise to Critique (Lucky & Led Cruise Ship Mystery Series Book 5) Read online

  This was no serendipitous happening. The room invader had been awaiting his chance to search Randy’s room and find the treasured package which he knew had to be hidden someplace. There really were not many possible hiding spots in such a confined space, so a quick perusal of the area gave the intruder a fix on the only two or three places the package could be squirreled away. Taking a quick peek out the door to make sure that the room attendant hadn’t begun his return to the room, the trespasser opened the closet doors and ran his hand over all the shelves making sure it wasn’t stuffed behind some of Randy’s underwear.

  Frustrated that he wasn’t coming up with the goods, the prowler spotted the small glass top table with the flat bottom. Perfect! He immediately turned the table over and with the skill of a tradesman untighened the screws holding the bottom onto the table and, Bingo, out fell the package. Hearing the rustling sound of a crew door being opened from down the hall, he stashed the object inside his lightweight jacket, bobbed his head around the door opening for a quick look and, seeing no one, he stepped out into the hall and quickly exited the vicinity.

  Only seconds later, the room attendant returned bearing his precious bottle of toilet bowl cleaner and finished up the first of his twice daily chores in the cabin. Just as he was exiting Randy’s room and pushing his supply cart down the hall to the next room assignment, Randy turned the corner from the elevator lobby returning to his room. As he pushed his door key into the slot, the door pushed opened. In an instance, he was filled with dread but then noticed the room attendant waving to him which offered Randy a moment of relief.

  Not long lasting relief. He entered his room and straight away felt that something was amiss. He knew the room attendant had been in just moments ago, but he sensed that the configuration of the room was askew; there shouldn’t be anything out of place when the attendant was there to put everything aright again. Instinctively, his immediate and undivided attention went to the glass top table. It was not sitting straight up, but had a tilt mimicking that of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Not a good sign. He hoped against hope that the cabin guy had knocked it tipsy, but that was an irrational hope. Randy tipped the table over and the bottom fell aside the pole leg. Turning the table upside down and peering inside the now exposed bottom cavity, he saw what he dreaded most: a space filled with nothing but air.

  The tender boats were all up and running proud. The Captain had instructed the boat officers to make sure that the tendering went off safely and quickly; a bit more emphasis on quickly. She was tired of reading complaints on the guest comment cards about the inefficiency of the procedure. The guests disliked tendering for two main reasons: too much time and the wavy ride in these smallish boats. People remembered too many stories of sinking of overloaded ferry boats. Of course, this was far from the facts in this instance, but people will imagine the worst scenario in any situation which involves themselves.

  Captain Hurley had specifically placed Chief Inspector Sanjay Mehta in charge of overseeing the operation.

  “Well, Father Lucky, it’s your turn to board in a few minutes. A boat is returning from the shore dock as we speak.” Sanjay stood over the boat crewman like Moses directing the crossing of God’s people through the Red Sea.

  “Yes, it’ll be refreshing to get off the ship for a few hours and wander around George Town, Chief Inspector. Will you have a chance to take shore leave yourself?”

  “Unfortunately, not today, Father Lucky.” Spying Samantha holding onto Lucky’s arm for balance, “And I see you have a companion. That will make your day even more worthy of note. I know you’ve been here several times before so you’ll be able to show the young lady around the more noteworthy spots on the island.” Sanjay said this as he helped the two board the tender boat as it mildly dipped alongside the towering Caribbean Star “Watch your step please.”

  “Watch” was the operative word with Sanjay. His many years of experience had sensitized him to note the relationships between the people he protected. On more than one occasion, the peculiar compositions among couples and groups of people had led him to fruitful conclusions with his investigations of criminal activity; deciding who proved to be the perpetrator and who was really the victim.

  Giggling further back in the queue, Led with his gaggle of girls, teased about this and that; all nonsensical matters, but of great interest to people of their age. Playing the group leader, he suddenly began taking roll of the ladies and their gear. Each one had their own desired play in mind when they reached the island and its beaches. Of course, everyone would end up shopping and buying so many non-essential items somehow deemed indispensible.

  “Oh, young Led and your companions. How are you this morning, my longtime guest? Are you planning any mischief for your outing today?” Sanjay subdued his smile as he helped Led and his group of fans step into the tender boat.

  “Just the usual high risk activity, Chief Inspector, for which I am so well- known,” Led retorted in his usual feisty manner. “I just happen to be doing it with the most beautiful ladies on the ship. My good fortune, wouldn’t you have to admit?”

  “Yes, so true. You always seem to be found in the middle of the loveliest women on the cruise. I would have to take lessons from you except I have already found the beauty of my life many years ago. Her loveliness is reflected in my children. May you be so fortunate, young man.” With that adieu, the tender boat was filled to capacity and detached from the mother vessel.

  “Oh, damn, we missed it. Now we’ll have to wait at least fifteen minutes for the next shuttle,” Marsha whined. “I hope we don’t run into Yolanda with that Led fellow. I told her that I had a billing matter to attend to with the Guest Relations people and would catch up with her at the Diamonds International jewelry shop. Didn’t seem to bother her since she has her nose bent over her newest fling. He’s taking her deep sea diving...can’t wait to get her arms around him.”

  Randy stood a half step back beside Marsha, enduring this non- stop chatter, with a dour look on his face. He hadn’t yet informed his running mate that his parcel of smuggled cargo had mysteriously disappeared. At first he applied the Occam’s Razor principle, the simplest solution usually being the correct one, and surmised that the room attendant had absconded with the package. After which, when he had pursued the fellow down the hall and into the room in which he was attending, it was obvious that he had not the slightest degree of involvement. There was no package to be seen anywhere on his person or resting on any level of his supply cart. But, that begged the question: who could have gotten into his room and stole it?

  “In a way, I’m happy that the time has come to make the delivery of this package. It will give me some piece of mind and maybe I’ll be able to enjoy the little bit of time remaining on my weekend cruise,” Marsha rattled on blithely. Internally, she was seething with fear and trepidation.

  “Shut up, will you? There are too damn many ears around here for you to be talking about our situation.” Randy’s frustration exploded like a bomb shocking Marsha; a classic case of displacement of emotion; psychologists refer to it as the “kicking the dog syndrome”...acting out the aggravation against the innocent instead of the guilty.

  “What’s your problem, Randy? There’s no one here who remotely knows what we’re discussing. Their minds are on the holiday and getting over to Grand Cayman for some fun in the sun, not about what we’re up to. You are one big paranoid mess this morning, I’d say. What’s your gripe, anyway?”

  “My gripe, as you put it, is that someone stole my package,” he whispered into Marsha’s ear.

  “What!” Marsha, now filled with dread, semi screeched.

  “Calm down, you’re creating a scene. I’ll tell you about it when we get over on the island and find some privacy to discuss the situation. I think I know how we can work this out.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. I can’t believe how this could happen. What an idiot!” Marsha ranted on, but by now the tender boat was bobbing alongside the ship and t
he guests in the queue were being ushered aboard. Chief Inspector Mehta stepped up next to the couple and offered his assistance. He had overheard a bit too much not to be interested in getting a more intimate ID of this duo.

  Several persons back in the line, a couple of gentlemen shuffled along making their way to the tender boat. They attempted to blend in and make themselves look average in appearance, two more everyday cruise guests. Sanjay noticed details. The two just drew his attention for some odd reason; a hunch. One of them had an unusual bulkiness around the waist which could be from the effects of too many trips to the buffet bar or possibly he was concealing some item with a more sinister purpose

  Sanjay, mentally noting their facial identities, decided not to pursue his hunch immediately as the guest line still proved long and a few remarks were being expressed about the slowness of the shuttle boat boarding process. The Chief Inspector sublimated his suspicions and focused on the task at hand sternly given to him by Captain Peggy Hurley: shuttle our guests over to the island in a quick and safe manner. What was in question here, as Sanjay Mehta feared, was a safety issue beyond his full understanding; but he had his methods and he would follow through as a good security officer was trained to do.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Lucky and Samantha enjoyed their initial perusal of the downtown tourist sites, from all outward appearances, looking like any other of the dozens of married couples. The weather, as usual, was on the warmish side, but the gentle-to-brisk breezes from the cooler Caribbean sea waters helped keep the temperature at a tolerable level as shown on the thermometer. Ducking in and out of the variety of shops, mostly jewelry and feminine wear, they soon desired a quieter spot for some shade and a cool drink.

  Lucky especially was ready for some sort of oasis from the shopping scene. He had noticed the universal sign of couples shopping: the damsels dutifully charging the credit cards to the max while their male mates, bored to tears, sat on the benches provided outside the shops, quietly calculating how many more years of work they would have to endure to pay off the debts. The only saving grace was for the poor guys to secretly ogle the women going in and out of the shop, always on high alert to catch sight of their own better half before they were caught.

  Approximately three shuttle boats later, about an hour into the shore visit, Lucky and Samantha were lounging on the second level terrace of a quaint deli style café. The balcony was framed with a half hearted attempt at trellises dripping with vines bearing bright tropical flowers. After ordering a round of cool fruit punch drinks, Lucky excused himself and made his way to the restroom on the back side of the upstairs’ bar. Several minutes later, upon his return, he noticed Samantha staring out to sea while fidgeting with her napkin and wrapped straw.

  “You look a bit out of sorts, Samantha. Is the heat getting to you?”

  “Not the heat...that man!” she replied with unexpected irritation.

  “Huh? What man might that be?”

  “That damn Rex Riddle. I honestly believe he’s stalking me.” She blushed hearing herself use such a strong term with regards to her colleague.

  “Samantha, when these ships dump out their guests onto these islands, very few ever get more than a block or so into the town. It’s a small island world and an even smaller tourist area. We all pretty much congregate in the same environs. You’re bound to run into almost everyone you know or don’t know from our ship in this ten block area. I’m sure it was just that; too many fellow guests in way too small a vicinity, Rex being one of them.”

  “I suppose you’re right, Lucky. I’m just a bit jittery about his seemingly constant presence.”

  “I’m sure I’m right, as I remind Led all the time.” This brought a smile to Samantha’s face and she unwrapped her straw.

  “He did seem to have a mission to his step; I mean like he was making his way to a particular predetermined destination. Maybe he’s on the trail of a stupendous story for his critique,” she purred with sarcasm, “a critique which will come in second place to mine.”

  “Well, let’s let Rex be Rex and we’ll just continue to enjoy our time together. Anyway, you wanted to interview me about my grandiose experience with the cruising industry. Wasn’t that your mission? Lucky smirked. “Afterwards, if you don’t mind, I’d like us to stoll on down to my friends who have a place on the beach overlooking the bay. Sound like a plan?” Samantha took out her note pad and assumed the position of the ace reporter.

  Led had his hands full and loved it. Surrounded by sun, sea, sand and sizzling hot women. Life can be oh so good for a young man. They had made their way from the tender boat landing to the queue of taxis awaiting their fares. Loading the equipment into the trunk, or boot would be the more appropriate term in this British tinged culture, Led and Yolanda jumped into the back seat for the ride to the dive shop and the diving area.

  “My, this is one beautiful island paradise,” Yolanda chirped as she gazed out the open window of the taxi. I could live here forever, I do believe.”

  “Yeah, I feel that way everytime I visit one of these places especially when I’m with a beautiful lady like you.” Led was attempting to warm up Yolanda in light of the intimacy of the upcoming dive time with his latest catch.

  “Oh, oh, big boy. So, this is just another tryst with another girl on another paradise island. Well, you’ll be in hot water before you know it with this gal. I didn’t fall off the stern of the last freighter, you know.” Yolanda laughed as she gently pinched Led on his rib cage.

  “Right. Anyway, I was just telling you how much I liked being with you especially since you like to dive like I do.” Led felt taken down a notch.

  “I think I know exactly what you mean,” she winked. Led felt taken up a notch. What a yo-yo of emotions in this dating game, he contemplated.

  Not everyone involved with this caper had shuttled over to the island. Sitting in the ship’s internet café, one man was furiously texting to his Asian cohort on the island in downtown George Town.

  “I HAVE THE PACKAGE.”

  “WE NEED BOTH OF THEM.”

  “WHAT’S U’R PLAN?”

  “FOLLOW THE GIRL.”

  “SHE’S WITH R.”

  “WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO ON THE ISLAND?”

  “SNORKEL.”

  “EXCELLENT. WE’LL FIND THEM. NO PROBLEM.”

  “JUST BE CAREFUL. WE DON’T WANT ANY WITNESSES.”

  “I’LL TAKE CARE OF M. R WILL GET US THE PACKAGE. THE IDIOT.”

  “I DON’T NEED TO KNOW THE HOW. JUST TEXT ME WHEN U GOT IT.”

  He smugly sipped on his double cappuccino as he pocketed his iPhone.

  “Let’s take a break from the interview, Lucky. I think I’m getting more than enough material for this part of my article,” Samantha put pen and pad away.

  “I agree. Too nice a day to be doing homework. Never did like having to study or do school work on nice days. Anyway, I’d like us to see if my friends, George and Elaine Cromwell are home today. I don’t keep in contact all the time, so, it being a short walk up from town, I just drop by. If they’re home, I say hi and we have a cuppa.”

  “A cuppa? Now, that is being quite local in your use of the slang. Sign of a well travelled fellow.”

  Lucky settled the bill and they proceeded to maneuver through the tourist crowd making their way the ten or so blocks up out of the business district to George and Elaine’s beach front home. Unbeknownst to them, they were joined, at least in spirit, by a third party; Rex Riddle, as he continued his stalking of the pair.

  Samantha, when she had glimpsed her colleague from the terrace balcony of the cafe, had been right on the money with her judgment of Rex’s determined gait. He did have a motivation in mind for his walk passed them at the café; Rex had miscued on his closeness to them and, realizing that he was spotted, made it look like he was heading to an appointed place.

  Actually, he only wanted to hide out until they left the café and continue his pursuit to find out where they were going. Wh
at were Lucky and Samantha up to? Rex stewed over this question as he stood in the shadow of the building next to the café until his prey came out. More akin to his need to know was figuring out what angle Samantha was taking on her crititique of the cruise. One of Rex's beliefs was knowledge is power and he needed that power to win the cruise critique contest with his editor. Winning at any cost was another of Rex Riddle’s guiding principles.

  The short journey by taxi concluded, all Led needed to accomplish was to haul the gear into the dive shop. He and Yolanda finished up the paperwork and showed the shop keepers their dive training certifications. Now to the fun part: helping Yolanda into her gear. How exciting!

  “We need to wait for Marsha. She had to stop by the Guest Relations desk and said that she’d join up with us in a few,” Yolanda chattered away as Led was in the midst of fitting the gear to her voluptuous body.

  “I hope she remembered which dive shop we were coming to,” Led was a bit of a worry wort when it came to organizing his lady friends.

  “No problem, I wrote it down for her. I’m used to being her unpaid assistant at work, too.”

  “Cool. This one is right up town from the tender boat landing, so it shouldn’t be too hard for her to find.” Led continued to sort out the gear and began testing the breathing apparatus. “She’s only going to snorkel, right?”

  “Correct. I think she’s afraid of deep sea diving. Doesn’t like all the slimy, creepy, crawling creatures down below, as she describes sea life. I don’t think she even likes water that much, so we’ll have to baby her along with the snorkeling; keep a good eye out for her.”

  “I can do that. No problem as long as I feel that you are OK down under with our dive.” Led was being sweet with his expression of concern and Yolanda liked that a lot.

  The twelve o’clock tender boat shuttle coming off the Caribbean Star was nearly empty, only nine passengers, four couples and a single gentleman. Quickly and safely discharging its passengers, they made their way down the well-worn path through the fence gate which defined the secure area of the loading dock from the main street of George Town.