She tuts. ‘Such a drama queen. I’ll go and have a look. You start at the top. I’ll do another sweep here, and we’ll meet at the helm. Okay?’
Twenty minutes later, Tiffany appears at my side. She whispers in my ear. ‘No luck.’
I feel sick to my stomach. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean he’s not on the boat.’
‘Then where is he? Did he take a group out fishing or something?’
She shakes her head. ‘Not that I know of. The schedule clearly has him down to do on-board entertainment all day.’ She checks her watch. ‘Starting withWhere’s My Shoe?at midday.’
‘But where can he possibly…’ I stop speaking as the captain walks towards us smiling. The women follow him like a shadow.
‘Ladies. Perhaps you can explain what the entertainment is for today. We have some delightful participants willing to take part. It is a kind of treasure hunt, no?’
Tiffany nods. ‘Yes, Captain.’ She turns to the ladies. ‘Supervisor Garry has hidden all of his clothes somewhere around the dining area while he stands naked behind the bar waiting for you to bring them to him. The person to find the most clothes to put back on him wins the cocktail of their choice.’
Oh. My. Fucking. Word. While the captain is visibly shocked, the ladies understandably seem to also think this game is in poor taste.
Tiffany tries to rally them. ‘How about the winner gets cocktails for the rest of the day?’
Unimpressed silence. And plenty of it.
‘I’ll let you know when we are starting the game,’ she says, watching the women retreat, nudging one another in bafflement. She turns to the captain. ‘Have you seen Garry?’
He shakes his head.
‘When was the last time you saw him?’ I ask.
He takes a moment to think through his answer. ‘The last time I saw him was last night when he was arguing with you.’
I am instantly dismayed at the thought of how many people saw us and didn’t think to come and rescue me. ‘We weren’t arguing. Well, we were. But the point is it wasn’t anything bad. Well, it was, actually. I think he’s been… not that it concerns you, Captain. Unless you’re somehow implicated.’ Words are tumbling unfiltered from my mouth, much to Tiffany’s horror. ‘But anyway, we just wondered if you’d seen him today.’
‘Why?’ he asks, a note of suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘What do you mean implicated?’
Tiffany’s eyes widen as though to sayYou idiot. Do not breathe a word; we do not need to alarm anyone.
‘I need the keys to the jet ski,’ I say, forcing a tight smile as Tiffany grabs my arm, pulling me away. ‘We’ll look for him downstairs.’
‘Shit. Shit. Shit,’ she mumbles. ‘Start looking overboard but keep it discreet.’
‘Overboard? What do you mean?’
She stops in her tracks. ‘Don’t you get it?’ She sweeps her arm out to sea. ‘We’re in the middle of the ocean, miles from land, and no one has seen Garry. He is obviously not on the boat.’
‘You think he’s jumped in the water?’ I frown. None of it makes sense. ‘I thought he said he couldn’t swim. He’s mentioned it like a billion times.’
‘Exactly. He wouldn’t jump in the water.’
Wait. What is she implying? A prickle of fear crawls up my spine. ‘You think someone pushed him off the boat?’ I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me. The man’s a hideous slimeball. ‘But why?’
‘Personally, I could think of at least a dozen solid reasons straight off the top of my head.’ She fixes me a serious look. ‘But you tell me. You were the last one to see him.’
I blow out my cheeks. How would I have noticed someone pushing him over the railing? I was busy developing a card-playing addiction with Mehmet and his family while trying to avoid his brazen flirting, like dodging bullets. ‘Or maybe it’s more likely he fell?’
Tiffany ponders this as she looks around at the waist-height railings. ‘Nah. No way.’
‘But why are you assuming foul play? Assuming he was pushed rather than an accident?’
