Chloe laughed at his feigned enthusiasm and hurried into the bathroom, showered and stepped into her old bathing suit, wishing she’d spent the time to get a new one, covering up with a pair of shorts and a tunic top, and heading on out, bearing towels to stick into her bag.
“Cute!” he assured her.
“Trying, anyway,” she said.
“More than that, you’re succeeding.”
“If you say so...”
“Am I hunky enough?” he inquired, arching a brow.
She groaned. “Let’s go to breakfast!”
They headed up to the Sea and Sand dining room, the most casual restaurant on the ship, where they discovered that most of the passengers had gathered. But while it was extremely busy, it wasn’t difficult to grab a couple of breakfast sandwiches and cups of coffee—the restaurant was always working to get people in and out, especially on days when the passengers were headed off on tours.
Heading out to join the throng to leave the ship, they saw George Garcia and Edward Thompson.
Poor Edward was being hailed and addressed by just about everyone near him; he seemed to be a truly loved character.
George was at his side every step of the way, ever watchful. He saw Wes and Chloe and gave them a nod of assurance.
Disembarking was ridiculously quick. Cruise ships had it down to a science, with passengers having a quick picture taken as they stepped off the ship, which were compared to the ones they took when first boarding when they returned to the vessel. Airports were using eye and facial scans, so this seemed to be something similar.
In line, they found themselves next to the woman who had been at their table the night before, Sally Brookins. She was cheerful and excited, a fountain of energy. An attractive older woman with her curiously beautiful silver hair, straight demeanor and quick smile.
“Hello, honeymooners!” she said, greeting them. “So, you two are off to the Falls!”
“We are. And you’re going to head off and explore Montego Bay?” Wes asked.
“Yes!” She lowered her voice and murmured. “I may run around and... Well, you know! Keep an eye out for others on the cruise. See what they’re up to!”
“Oh?” Chloe said.
Sally laughed. “As if none of this has occurred to you two!”
“None of this—?” Wes asked her.
For a moment, all the humor left Sally’s eyes. She was deadly serious and, in truth, appeared shrewd and knowing.
And she spoke quietly, determined that no one near them would hear her words. “Come on! I heard that man the other day, spouting off! That so-called murder-suicide that occurred in Broward Country, six people dead and all of it blamed on one woman who was probably as innocent as a newborn baby!” Sally told them gravely.
Wes frowned. “Sally, if you’re that concerned, you should do what Howard Markowitz is doing—leave the ship!”
“Oh, hell no, young man!” she told him.
“But Sally—” Chloe began.
Sally waved a hand in the air, cutting her off. “Not to worry. I’m a member of a group called the Wednesday Sherlockians. We love to read, of course, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, first and foremost. But Randy Mann is a retired cop and Sheila was CIA for a decade! There’s no way that we don’t study current crime and put our heads together,” she said.
Wes shook his head. “Sally, if there is something going on—”
“You don’t fool an old broad like me! You know there is,” Sally said.
“They’re dangerous! You need to stay away from them! Don’t follow people, take great care, don’t let anyone suspect that you’re suspicious—” Wes said, concern deep in his voice.
“Young man! Not to worry. I’m just a sweet old bird! And I never act like anything but!” she assured him.
“Oh, Sally!” Wes murmured.
