Pastries and Pilfering: A Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Page 7

  But there was one thing Adam definitely would have known—why Gabe Williams was on the cruise. Odd that he hadn’t mentioned him in his reply email since she’d discreetly asked about him. Maybe she was making more of it than she should be, but it was too much of a coincidence, wasn’t it? And the fact that he’d shown up to help her now had her asking even more questions than before. Had Adam sent him to watch over her? No, that made no sense either. She’d barely seen Gabe around, something a good tail would be able to accomplish, but that would also mean she’d never have been able to follow him like she had. Besides, why would Adam have her followed? He wasn’t that paranoid.

  Releasing a sigh, she pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall with determined steps. It was time for the gala and she and Addie’s creations to be announced. She wouldn't let thoughts of conspiracies or investigations cloud her excitement for the night.

  The dinner was fabulous and she found her tablemates to be intriguing. Sadly, Addie was nowhere to be found, but just as the time was arriving for the award to be announced and the desserts introduced, she spotted her friend on the other side of the room. Making her excuses, she slipped around the dining room and dance floor and joined Addie.

  “There you are. I was starting to think I was going to have to take all the credit tonight.”

  Addie gave a halfhearted laugh but it did nothing to change to pale look on her face. She shot a glance over her shoulder nervously. “Are you all right?” Margot asked.

  “F-Fine. Yes, I’m—I’m fine.”

  Margot wasn’t convinced but the lights dimmed and a spotlight highlighted the table in the middle of the room. It illuminated a masterful display of pastries to tantalize the guests.

  “Where’s Noah?” Margot asked. “Isn’t he supposed to be here to accept the award as well?”

  “I-I don’t know.” Addie answered one question but was too distracted to register both questions, her gaze unfocused in front of her.

  Margot fought the urge to place her hands on either side of the woman and give her a firm shake to bring her out of the daze, but she was afraid it would do no good. Besides, now wasn’t the time or the place.

  They were called up on stage and she stood next to Addie, impressed at her friend’s forced smile. It was fake, but it would be hard to tell from the audience. It was obviously something she’d perfected in many competitions before.

  The lights were bright and the announcer, one of the performers who took on the role of MC, began to highlight Addie’s many accomplishments and the various awards the ship had been given because of her expertise.

  Margot found her attention wandering around the room. She tried to look interested in what the man was saying about her troubled friend, but then her gaze caught on Noah. He was slowly, almost sneakily, making his way around the back of the room. Was he trying to avoid being seen so they wouldn’t bring him up on stage? He was as much a part of this as Addie, and certainly more so than Margot.

  Then, as she glanced back to where she’d seen him last, he stopped behind one of the furthest tables. He stood against the wall and looked to be waiting for something. But what? Then, as Margot watched, keeping her gaze moving over the room but always coming back to Noah’s location, she watched in astonishment as Brice walked past and unobtrusively passed something to Noah, pausing for the briefest of words before he continued on. She thought she caught Noah’s imperceptible nod.

  She jerked her gaze away, hoping they hadn’t noticed her watching them, but when her eyes landed on another area of the room, this time she actually gasped, though thankfully it was quiet.

  There, in the back of the room wearing a tuxedo and looking like he belonged in a James Bond movie—or the gala night—stood Detective Adam Eastwood.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” Margot demanded.

  “I’m not sure if you’re pleased to see me or…angry? And can I just say that dress…” He shook his head, expelling a breath. “It’s better than the red one.”

  She grinned, knowing he’d think as much, but soon the grin faded. “Seriously, Adam, why are you here?” She didn’t know why, but her heart was pounding. She was sure it had something to do with the ramifications of all of this, but at least a small part of the palpitations was due to how handsome he looked in a tux.

  Something she didn’t need to notice right now. She couldn't afford to be distracted. If Adam was here, something was going on. She had a gut feeling and those were almost never wrong.

  “It’s a long story.”

  She placed her hands on her hips and he took it as an invitation to admire the dress again.

  “Really, Margie, that dress…” He shook his head.

  “You’re doing it again. Getting tongue-tied over a dress. It’s just a dress.”

  His grin widened. “You’re right. It is just a dress, but you make it look amazing.”

  Now Margot blushed, unable to let his comments slide off. She liked the fact that he thought her beautiful and wasn’t ashamed to say it. It did a woman well to be complimented. Yet, his timing could have been better.

  “About what I said in my email—” she began.

  “Will you dance with me?” he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

  She let out a sigh. “You’re not going to give this up, are you?”

  “Nope. Not until you agree to one dance. Just one?” He looked at her with sparkling hazel eyes and a boyish grin she’d found she had trouble resisting.

  “All right,” she gave in, accepting his proffered hand.

  In her mind, a dance just meant she could explain the situation to him in close proximity, which would better ensure no one overheard them.

  They slipped into an easy rhythm and she let them sink into the dance first, finding that she enjoyed being in Adam’s arms more than she should. Then again, it had been five years since she’d lost her husband. It didn’t mean she’d lost her love for him—she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop loving him and she’d come to terms with that—but she had gained an appreciation for the fact that her heart could feel again. She certainly felt things toward Adam, though at the moment they were overshadowed by her curiosity as to why he was here and the reality that something was going on—she just didn’t know what.

  “There was a murder—” she began.

  “Oh, Margie,” he said in a disappointed tone, “are you really going to ruin our dance with talk of murder? And wasn’t it ruled drug overdose? Not murder?”

  She gaped at him. “How did you know that?”

  “Just call me…informed.”’

  “What are you up to, Adam Eastwood?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “I may or may not have done some digging before coming out here.”

  “What type of digging? And why are you out here?”

  “Is saying I missed you too cheesy?”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s the real reason?”

  He was about to answer when a commotion at the back of the dining room drew their attention. A young purser came rushing into the room, tears streaming down her face. She rushed blindly forward, making her way toward the captain. A few crewmembers moved to intercept her but she shook them off, only stopping in front of the stoic man.

  They watched as the woman explained something with frantic hand motions and then burst into tears. As her news was conveyed, the captain shot to his feet, a look of concern washing over his handsome features. Then he motioned to two men who Margot knew were part of the security team, and they left the room. The third security team member ushered the sobbing woman out after them as well.

  “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think people are supposed to cry like that on cruises.”

  She glanced up to see a look of genuine concern on Adam’s face despite his sarcastic tone. He wasn’t one to make light of troublesome situations, though his humor in all areas of life was one of the things Margot appreciated most about the detective. She could see on his hardened features that his de
tective sense was kicking in. “What do you say we go see what’s up?”

  Margot was stunned at his suggestion but leapt at the chance. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  They made their way off of the dance floor and then, as discretely as possible, slipped out of the same door the captain and the men had. Adam slipped his hand around hers and she felt the warmth sink past their hands to her heart. She’d missed him.

  The hallway they had stepped into extended in both ways but they heard hushed voices coming from the right. Looking at one another, they set off toward the voices. The hall curved and they pulled up before coming into view of an open door ahead. A sign above it indicated “Security Office.” Margot’s stomach clenched—this didn’t look good.

  “This was not an accident.”

  At the words, Adam’s hand squeezed Margot’s.

  “This was clearly thought out. Murder.”

  “But he’s not—”

  Adam released her hand and stepped forward. “I heard murder. Can I help?”

  Margot suppressed a smile at Adam’s direct approach, but followed him to the entrance of the office.

  “And who are you?” Margot recognized Harvey Pearson, the ship security officer.

  “I’m Detective Adam Eastwood.” Adam took out his credentials and showed them to the man.

  Harvey’s brow furrowed. “Detective? From Virginia?”

  “And liaison to the FBI,” a voice said behind them.

  Margot and Adam both turned around.

  “Gabe?” Margot exclaimed.

  “We meet again,” he said, smiling at Margot. “You just seem to be everywhere, don’t you, Mrs. Durand?”

  Margot noticed Adam’s intent look at her but thankfully Gabe continued.

  “I’m Gabe Williams with the FBI,” he said, flashing an official badge at Harvey. “I’ve asked Adam to join me here.”

  Now Margot shot Adam a look that demanded an explanation, but she knew now wasn’t the time or the place.

  “What is going on?” Gabe asked.

  “I—” Harvey began.

  Just then they all heard footsteps pounding down the hall and they turned to see the captain with the crying woman at his side, another security guard as his escort.

  “Captain,” Harvey said, standing straighter.

  “What is going on here?” the captain demanded.

  “Gabe Williams with the FBI.”

  “And…” The captain’s eyebrows rose and his gaze moved to Adam and then Margot, frowning.

  “Detective Adam Eastwood and Mrs. Margot—”

  “Durand. Yes, I know of Mrs. Durand, but I don’t know why she’s here.”

  “Mrs. Durand and I are…acquainted,” Adam said with a forced smile.

  “Yes, but I don’t think having a guest here during this, um, time is appropriate.”

  “And can you tell me exactly what’s going on here, Captain?” Gabe said, ignoring the Captain’s hesitance about Margot.

  “At the moment, I—”

  A young crewmember wearing a medical coat ran down the hall toward them, his gaze solely focused on the captain. “Sir, he’s dead.”

  Margot felt the stab of the words, her stomach clenching at the reality that another death had occurred on board the Carrousel Luxury.

  “Who is?” Gabe said, stepping forward.

  The young man looked to the captain and then back to Gabe. At an almost imperceptible nod from the captain, the young man cleared his throat. “Michael Bowers.”

  Chapter 9

  Margot sat on the deck attached to her cabin looking out over the lights of Ensenada. They would depart later that night and begin their travel back, but her mind was overloaded with the events of the evening. First, finding out that there had been another death, then discovering it had been the somewhat stiff but organized Michael Bowers, it was almost too much to take in. What was going on?

  Margot had faded into the background as details were demanded and credentials shared, but soon the captain put his foot down and demanded—albeit politely—that Margot go back to her cabin as they dealt with the details of the death. Begrudgingly, she’d purchased a coffee and made her way back to her room, waiting for Adam to come knocking on the door. That had been hours ago.

  The sound of a light tap made her jolt forward, the wrap draped over her knees slipping, and she rushed to answer it.

  “Adam,” she said, relief flowed by concern rushed through her. He looked exhausted with dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders slumped, but he offered her a soft smile.

  “May I come in for a bit?”

  “Of course,” she said, ushering him into the small space. “Do you want me to order you something?”

  “No, I grabbed a bite to eat with Gabe before coming to see you.”

  “The balcony is nice,” she offered.

  He smiled and nodded, following her out. They sat in the chairs that angled toward one another and she resisted the urge to demand what he’d discovered. For a few minutes, he just stared out at the city, the lights blinking and the faint sounds of music coming from somewhere, probably one of the many restaurants still open to tourists. The breeze was warm, though by no means hot, and the scent of salt hung in the air.

  Finally, he shifted and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I probably shouldn’t do this, but I’m going to fill you in.”

  Margot felt the sense of apprehension fill her. What was going on? What would Adam tell her about what had happened? Would they know what was behind it?

  “You don’t have to,” she began, knowing she desperately wanted to know what was going on but that she didn’t want to put Adam in a bad position for sharing things with her.

  “I asked Gabe, told him of our history, and he agreed. He also hinted that you may already know more than you should.” She heard the humor in Adam’s voice and part of her relaxed.

  “So, as you heard, Michael Bowers died. The woman we saw rush into the room tonight was a friend of Bowers and had just been informed from local authorities that he’d been the victim of a brutal stabbing in Ensenada. They rushed him on board and the woman came to notify the captain, but…as you saw, it was too late.”

  Margot’s mind jumped to several things at once. Stabbing. That meant murder. But when had it happened? Where?

  “What time was he stabbed? Where?” Adam’s eyebrows rose and she felt ashamed. “I’m sorry. It’s awful that he’s dead, terrible, but I’m wondering…” She didn’t finish her sentence because she wasn’t sure that she could. She didn’t have all of the necessary information yet, but there were several things that weren’t adding up. Like Noah. She pictured him at the back of the gala tonight. What had he given Brice?

  “We’re not sure. His body will need to be examined by a M.E. The best the doc could say was it was recent, and not too far from the ship.”

  This caused Margot to frown. “But all of the less friendly neighborhoods are further away from port.”

  “I know.” Adam leveled his gaze on her.

  Had Brice paid off Noah for killing Michael? But no, there was no way he would have had time to do it. It was pure conjecture and there was no evidence…then again, she had followed Brice to that restaurant and it did sound as if things were going on. But Noah? What part did he play in all of this? If any at all.

  “Before you go piecing things together, wait until you hear this.”

  “Are you finally going to tell me why you’re here on my cruise ship?”

  “Your ship, huh?”

  “You know what I mean,” she said with a smile.

  “Well, like Gabe said, he asked me to come. Or…maybe what’s more accurate is that I demanded for him to get me on board. Among some other strings I pulled, I was able to get down here quickly.”

  “But why? What about your assignment? Your lecturing?”

  He shrugged. “Why? Because of your overly innocent little email digging for clues. I know you better than you think, Margot Durand.” H
e offered a tired smile. “I wasn’t about to let you have a mysterious adventure without me. Besides, I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

  Warmth surged through her at his words and she felt a light blush color her cheeks, thankfully hidden by the darkness. “Thank you, but I wasn’t sure, until now, that it was something mysterious. Clearly, we have a murderer on our hands.”

  “We?”

  “I suppose it’s you and Gabe then. Did you know that Gabe was FBI?”

  “About that…” He shifted back in his seat and she saw him shake his head. “Turns out Gabe has been running an undercover operation dealing with some pretty interesting things. Even the woman who was murdered—”

  “So it was murder?”

  “Definitely— Well, we can’t say for sure until the M.E. confirms, but Gabe assures me she never would have taken drugs. She was an undercover agent.”

  Margot gasped. “She was?”

  “Yes, she’s been working with none other than Michael Bowers. Apparently, he’s involved in some pretty terrifying things, including but not limited to drug and gem smuggling from Ensenada.”

  “Really,” she said, leaning back in her chair and trying to piece it all together. She hadn’t interacted with Michael much, but he hadn’t looked like a smuggler. Then again, what did a smuggler really look like?

  “Yes. Kristen had been working closely with him but there was another piece to all of this: a contact who works on the ship but didn’t reveal his—or her—identity. They would leave notes in certain locations for Kristen and Michael. It’s the only reason she was staying undercover, she wanted to nail all of the components in this ring. She’d been working on the local side of things until this silent partner got her a job on board the ship recently.”

  “But then she was murdered. Was she suspected then? Is that why she died?”

  “That’s unclear at this point.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Margot leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. She’d known something was going on, but she never would have imagined smuggling.