Murder for the Halibut (27 page)

“I heard that,” Ray said, scooting over so Jordan could be next to Lola, who was decked
out in a gorgeous turquoise blue caftan.

“You’re one hot mama,” Jordan said, squeezing the older woman’s hand. “Have we missed
anything?”

“Just a whole bunch of appetizers,” Rosie answered. “For lunch I made that stir-fry
recipe that I got from the Thai couple who just moved in above my apartment. You know,
the one you posted in your column a few weeks back and called Pollo Fino Revuelto?
Best chicken stir-fry I’ve ever tasted. I made a complete pig of myself before we
ran out of it. I’m still so stuffed, I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.” She held
up her cocktail glass. “Chocolate martinis are a whole different story, though.”

“Jordan, what would you like to drink?” Alex asked when the waiter stopped to take
their order.

She was so busy noticing how his dark gray suit brought out the deep blue of his eyes,
she didn’t even hear him. The man was definitely a gorgeous specimen, and tonight
he was all hers. She planned on making the best of their last night on the ship, and
God help anyone who interfered. She was imagining something incredibly romantic like
a late-night stroll on deck followed by just the two of them in a hot tub.

“Jordan? Your drink?”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll have a frozen margarita.”

Alex studied her with a cool, appraising look. “What was going on in that pretty little
head of yours? You were a million miles away just then.”

She pinched his cheek playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His eyes flickered with mischief. “Did it involve me?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. Now go find me a couple of those bruschetta things.
Unlike Rosie, I’m starving.”

Jordan looked around the table at her friends while she waited for Alex to return
with the appetizers. Seeing everyone all dressed up brought back memories of her childhood
in Amarillo and playing dress-up with her mother’s old gowns. Having only brothers,
she’d often wished for a sister, and now she had two of the best ever in Rosie and
Lola. She loved these people like family.

Just as Alex returned, the captain walked onto the makeshift stage and the crowd noise
died down. Caught up in the gala atmosphere, it was easy to forget about the tragedy
the night before. But seeing the head of the ship standing on the makeshift stage
with the beautiful red curtain shimmering in the background brought it all back. It
was a stark reminder that although they were all celebrating the last day of the cruise
with cocktails and great food, there was a crime scene behind that curtain.

Ever since this afternoon when Michael had relayed the news that the cooking competition
was definitely called off, Jordan had been especially anxious to talk to Emily. But
she was nowhere to be found and hadn’t returned the many messages Jordan had left
on her phone. Although the contestants were bound to be disappointed because there
would be no winner now, Luis and Phillip had gotten the good news that George Christakis
was offering them each an entry-level job at his restaurant in New York. Jordan wondered
if Casey and Marsha had
heard that announcement yet—and if they had, was glad not to have been there when
they got the news.

“Has anyone talked to Emily today?” Rosie asked, looking stunning in a black cocktail
dress, her blond hair pulled back into a French twist.

When no one spoke up, Michael shook his head. “She was with Wayne earlier, but I haven’t
seen her since. Are you worried about her?”

“I am,” Jordan said, turning back to the makeshift stage. She was trying to get her
mind off Emily and concentrate on the ship’s various department heads, who were currently
being introduced.

But it was a losing battle.

When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she whispered to Alex, “Would you mind if I
left you here with the gang for a few minutes? I want to check on Emily.”

“Of course not. I know how worried you are about her. Frankly, I am, too.” He checked
his watch. “I’m waiting on a report from Miami. If it comes in, Orlando is going to
call to let me know. I may have to run down to the security office for a few minutes,
anyhow. Go take care of your friend. If either of us gets tied up, we’ll meet at dinner
in an hour. Okay?”

She kissed the top of his nose before explaining to the others where she was going.
Walking out of the theater, she couldn’t shake an overwhelming sense of doom and gloom.
Something was definitely wrong with Emily, and tonight she might need a friend more
than ever. Jordan intended to be there for her, even if it meant giving up precious
moments with Alex.

Standing outside Emily’s cabin, she debated telling her she knew about her horrible
teenage years. Sometimes,
walls could be broken only when a person shared a horrible experience like that. Jordan
prayed that would be the case with Emily, if she decided to reveal what George had
confided in her.

After knocking several times, Jordan was about to walk away when Emily opened the
door.

“Hey, Jordan. Did you need something?”

Jordan’s mouth dropped open when she saw her friend. She’d imagined Emily holed up
in her room in pajamas, isolating herself from the world because of whatever had been
bothering her for the past few days. That’s not the impression she got as she stared
at the woman. Dressed in an off-the-shoulder, pale pink cocktail dress with matching
stilettos, Emily was definitely not planning to isolate herself anytime soon.

Jordan put her arms around her, noticing the way Emily stiffened at the contact. “I’m
so glad you’re feeling better. I was concerned about you.”

Emily pushed a strand of blond hair out of her eyes. “No need to worry. I’m fine.”

When she didn’t invite her in, Jordan asked, “Are you on your way to the party? If
so, I’ll walk with you.”

Emily looked surprised by the question. “I’m not going.”

Determined to help her friend, Jordan waltzed past her, uninvited. The first thing
she noticed was the difference between Emily’s cabin and her own. Nearly double the
size, it had a sliding glass door that opened onto a private patio.

“Holy cannoli! Guess it pays to know someone. This room is gorgeous.”

Emily glanced down at her watch. “If the only reason
you came by was to check on me, you can see that I’m fine. I’ll try to meet up with
all of you at dinner.” Again, she peeked at her watch.

“Are you waiting on someone?”

“No,” she answered quickly, but her tone said differently. “There seems to be another
problem in New York that my incompetent assistant can’t work out. I swear I’m going
to fire her the minute I get back home. Anyway, I need to finish up here.”

“Dressed like that?” Jordan was getting weird vibes from her friend. Emily was definitely
a little nervous about something, judging by the way she shifted her weight from one
foot to the other, her eyes darting to the door at the slightest sound.

Convinced the last thing her friend needed was to be alone right now, Jordan decided
to delay her exit in the hope that maybe Emily would open up to her. “Would you mind
if I take a quick look off your balcony? I’ll probably never have an opportunity like
this again.”

Emily nodded. “A quick one, though. I hate to rush you, but I really do need to get
back to my paperwork.”

Jordan slid the door back and walked out onto the deck. The balcony alone was almost
as big as her room, and the view was spectacular. She walked up to the railing and
sniffed the salty ocean air, thinking this was how the ocean should be viewed. She
leaned over to get a better look at the rippling waves as the ship glided through
the water, and she noticed they were right over the middle rescue boats.

“You really need to go now, Jordan,” Emily snapped before Jordan could comment on
it.

Confused, she met Emily’s gaze, noticing her friend
was breathing rapidly now. Jordan walked back into the room and shut the door. “Are
you sure you’re okay?” She was more than a little worried about her friend’s strange
behavior.

“I’m fine.” Emily spat out the words and glared at Jordan. “I just need you to go.”

Warning bells sounded in Jordan’s head. Something was terribly wrong here, but she
didn’t know what it was or how to fix it. If Emily wasn’t ready to talk about whatever
was bothering her, there was nothing more she could do to help her. Frustrated, she
walked past Emily to the door. Halfway there, someone knocked, and she jumped.

“Dammit!” Emily swore. “I told you I had business.” She rushed past Jordan and opened
the door.

If Jordan had thought her visit up to this point had been a bit strange, she now realized
things were about to cross over into bizarre. Beau Lincoln, dressed in a tuxedo and
holding a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket in one hand and two glasses in
the other, stood outside Emily’s door with a cocky grin on his face that almost made
her want to throw up.

His eyes lit up when he saw Jordan. “Hot damn! Ever since I got your call to come
down here for some fun, I haven’t been able to think about anything else. Now, I find
out there will be two beautiful women instead of just one, and I’m ecstatic.” He walked
into the room and placed the champagne and glasses on the table. “Who wants a drink
to get the good times started?”

Jordan shot Emily a look, finding it hard to believe what she’d just heard. In that
moment, everything became crystal clear as to why Emily had been in such a hellfire
hurry
to get her out of the room: she’d been awaiting a private “party” with the sleaziest
man on the ship.

Eew!

Disgusted, Jordan reached for the door. The faster she got out of there, the better.
She chastised herself for being such a poor judge of character and for feeling sorry
for Emily. The woman was as bad as Marsha—worse, since Beau’s wife was probably not
even cold yet.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Jordan,” Emily said.

“I think I’ve seen about as—” Jordan’s hand shot up to her mouth when she turned around
but not fast enough to stifle a gasp.

Emily Thorpe, the woman she thought of as her friend, was pointing a gun directly
at her head.

“Emily, what are you doing?” she shouted, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What the hell is this?” Beau asked. “You called me down here promising all kinds
of great things, and now you pull a gun on me? Give it to me.” When he took a step
closer to her, she slammed the side of his head with the revolver.

Moaning, he slumped to the carpet, blood oozing from a three-inch gash near his temple.

“Emily, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you need to give me the gun before
you really do hurt one of us.”

“Shut up, Jordan. I told you I had business to take care of. You should have listened
to me.” She kicked Beau in the side, causing him to yelp. “I’m going to make you wish
you’d never met me.”

Jordan repeated the earlier request. “I don’t know where you got that gun, but you
need to put it down.”

The New Yorker threw back her head and laughed, except it came out as more of a cackle.
“Compliments of our friend Goose.”

“Goose? How did you get his gun?” No sooner had the words left Jordan’s mouth than
a horrible vision ran through her head. It was the image of Goose’s orange and blue
plaid shirt and the scrap of that material that had caught on one of the rescue boats—the
one that was right below Emily’s balcony. “Goose fell from out there?”

“You could say that,” Emily said, her hands now shaking so badly Jordan was afraid
the gun might go off accidentally.

“And what would
you
say?” She had to keep Emily talking until she could figure out a way to get the weapon
out of her hand.

“I’d say the man signed his own death warrant when he walked in here demanding a million
dollars.” She huffed. “He had no idea who he was messing with. For a security professional,
he wasn’t all that smart, if you ask me. He should’ve never accepted that whiskey
on the rocks when he got here. He thought he was so smart because he insisted that
I pour myself a drink from the same bottle.” She snickered. “The fool had no idea
the inside of his glass was coated with a fast-acting sedative. In ten minutes time,
he was so groggy he offered no resistance when I led him outside. Getting him over
the railing proved to be a little more difficult, but I did it. And now, he’s shark
bait.”

Jordan was horrified, and for the first time she realized that the woman standing
in front of her now was probably mentally ill. How could she have missed seeing the
signs before?

“Emily,” Jordan pleaded one more time. “No one has to know about this. We can say
that Goose got drunk and fell into the water by himself. But you have to let me and
Beau go. We’ll get help for you, I promise.” She took a deep breath and moved closer
to Emily, hoping she didn’t end up on the floor like Beau.

“I know how much you hated your life in Colombia with your aunt and uncle. They robbed
you of your teenage years. Let Beau leave, and you and I can talk about it. If you
talk about it, it will no longer have power over you.”

Emily’s head snapped up. “How do you know about that?”

“George told me. He’s as worried about you as I am.”

A lone tear ran down Emily’s cheek, and for one promising minute, Jordan thought she
had gotten through to her. That tiny hope was dashed when the woman raised the gun
again.

“Get back, Jordan. I don’t want to hurt you, only Beau, but I will if you force me
to.”

“Why me? What in the hell did I ever do to you?” Beau asked, now holding his hand
over the wound above his eye in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

The noise that came out of Emily’s mouth sounded more animal than human. She got down
on her knees and placed the muzzle of the gun against his forehead.

“You, my friend, are responsible for everything in my life that caused me pain, and
tonight, you’re going to pay for it.”