Cashed In Part 21

"She just doesn't want you messing around on her."

"To tell you the truth, I haven't been feeling great since you found me in the chapel. I get little flashes of clear thinking but mostly, everything's fuzzy. The s.h.i.+p doctor has been sending over some medication for me to take twice a day-before breakfast and before dinner-but it doesn't seem to be helping."

Hmm. Besides not remembering everything about his attack, he'd seemed okay when I'd left him that night. Something was wrong. "What do the pills you're taking look like?"

Rick said they were white oblong pills. I'd have to ask Ben to know for sure, but I'd bet he was being given something that affected his memory. Someone didn't want Rick talking or remembering anything that happened to him and I bet it wasn't the s.h.i.+p doctor. If it was, there was proof the cruise line was involved.

"Rick, do me a favor, would you hide tonight's pill and I'll find a way to get it?"

"I guess, but why, Bee?"

"Because I need you to help me find Rawhide and Mahdu and keep me from disappearing. You are the only witness. Can you remember what the woman looked like any better than you did last time?"

"What woman?"

Oh dear.

"Can you remember what the note meant that you pa.s.sed to my roommate outside the elevator yesterday?"

"What note?"

Rick did know enough to tell me that while he ate room service, Delia went to dinner every night. I agreed to swing by his room during dinner and pick up the pill. At this point I didn't really care if the cruise cameras caught me in the act or not. Something creepy was going on, and my anger had far surpa.s.sed any fear.

As I walked back to the Internet nook, I heard a commotion. "Th-there she is!" Jack shouted.

Ingrid reached me first. "Where did you go?"

"To call Rick."

She bored me with a look, deadly serious. "Look, Bee, you can't do this anymore, this wandering off alone. Something bad is going down here on this s.h.i.+p and you are in the middle of it. Promise you won't go off by yourself again?" I stood dumbstruck. "Tell me you won't do this again," she demanded.

I nodded.

Whoa. Was this the same woman who argued over thong versus boy-short undies and was more concerned about what color background to put on the website than a bomb going off on the pier?

Just as soon as serious-as-a-heart-attack Ingrid appeared in my face, she was gone, flitting back to the group, dismissing the security stiff. I recognized him from patrolling the tournament-Rico walked past me and whispered, "Watch yourself."

What?

"What?" I finally asked when I found my tongue, but he was already out of earshot. I could be wrong, but I think Kinkaid was mad at me again. I'd been off the s.h.i.+p, behaving myself all day long, so this disapproval made me wonder if the phone in Rick's room wasn't tapped.

Twenty-four.

When Ingrid and I returned to the cabin, Ian had left a message on our cabin phone that he'd seen me chasing after "that cowboy" again, and we needed to talk.

His voice sounded extremely patient and brilliantly reasonable but I wondered fleetingly whether he was jealous enough to have whacked me on the head for ditching him for Marlboro Man. No, I dismissed the thought the instant after it formed. For him to commit such an act would be very ridiculous and slightly psychotic. I'm sure a professional-minded man wouldn't even consider such a thing, or if he did, he would know how to talk himself out of it.

I rang his cabin and left a message that we'd be at the In the Chips bar on the top deck before dinner if he wanted to look me up there. If not, then I'd see him at the tournament, since we'd be sitting at the same table. Along with Rhonda, I suddenly realized. It was going to be an interesting evening.

Made more so by the outfit Ingrid had laid out for me on the bed when I emerged from the shower-a form-fitting teal sheath minidress trimmed in peac.o.c.k feathers, teal iridescent pumps and some breathtaking blue topaz jewelry.

"I'll wear the earrings, ring and necklace."

"That ought to make things exciting. A naked woman dressed only in topaz, playing poker on the seas. Can I put it on the website?"

I glared at her grin. "I'm not joking. I can't wear that cha-cha dress to play a down and dirty card game."

"Why not?"

"I always feel so overdressed anyway. No one dresses to play this game, even in Vegas. As hodgepodge as my dress was at the Big Kahuna, I was loads fancier than most of the players who favor sports jerseys and shorts. Here, most of the pa.s.sengers go to the effort to change out of their nice dinner clothes to play. I feel like Audrey Hepburn in the middle of a Midwestern wienie roast."

Ingrid laughed. "Different is good. It makes image building easier."

"I'm so glad someone's job is easier."

"Well, wearing this will make yours easier, because the distraction factor will be higher. If you can withstand all the stares, you can use this to win. And if I'm wrong, when is being overdressed ever bad?" Spoken like a true fas.h.i.+onista. "Besides, you aren't going to wear a sport jersey anyway."

I had to agree with her about that, so we dressed and headed to the elevator. "I talked to Frank," I said.

Ingrid halted. "You saw Frank?"

"I went to Cozumel, not L.A. I talked to him when I got a cell connection, briefly. How would I have seen Frank?" I watched her closely.

Giving a little laugh, she shook her head. "I guess I thought you'd gotten ahold of one of those video phones. I'm so used to traveling in Europe; I forgot we were in Mexico. They'd probably be hard to find there."

Hmm. She was covering again. I liked Ingrid, Heck, I trusted her, but she was lying about something and it wasn't about where she'd traveled.

Ian asked to speak to me outside. Ben and my friends shared a weighty glance. "Actually Bee Bee is not allowed to be alone," Ben explained. "We have a pact."

"If she's with me, she isn't alone," Ian said, impatience only slightly veiled.

Everyone at the table looked around at each other and finally shared a mental shrug. Ian rose, pulled out my chair and guided me out the door of the bar, around the corner from the floor-to-ceiling windows, behind the thousand times lifesize concrete die that decorated the deck and to the railing. The breeze was so salt laden I could taste it on my tongue.

"I feel like I've been called to the princ.i.p.al's office," I said lightly. I was facing the direction we'd come to keep the wind from blowing my hair in my face and now I saw Jack peek around the corner. I bit back a grin.

Ian nailed me with his best professorial look. "Belinda, let's be serious."

"Oh, let's," I said, "I wanted to ask you what you were doing in Cozumel this morning with Paul."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ian was a master of the poker face, but he couldn't stop the small involuntary twitch just above his left ear. He probably shouldn't try to lie around a poker player. If I won on any skill at all, it was on people's tells. He'd showed this same tick when he'd bluffed a big hand at poker.

"Don't lie to me, Ian. I saw you two in an alley."

His face softened in defeat. "I'm sorry, but I agreed to keep this in confidence. Paul asked that of me."

I continued to look at him expectantly.

Finally he sighed, looking off into the sea. "I suppose since you saw us, I will tell you this much: I agreed to help Paul find some way out of his financial dilemma. What you saw was part of it."

His twitch was gone.

"That's awfully nice of you," I offered, remembering what Paul had said about being offered a way out, but I'd gotten the impression the option seemed repulsive to him. Was this the same deal? How was Ian helping? I really wanted to ask details but Ian had made it clear he wouldn't give any.

"Now it's my turn for twenty questions," Ian interrupted my reverie. "Who is this cowboy?"

"I don't know."

"So you never caught up with him last night?" Ian tapped his hand against the railing. This tell wasn't as obvious. Was he nervous or angry? "Did you catch him?" he asked again.

Technically . . . ? "No. I didn't catch up with him."

Ian stopped tapping, seeming so relieved that I almost told him Marlboro Man and I got naked on the promenade. I'm perverse that way. Instead, I continued reasonably, "He's just always there at the wrong place at the right time, and I want to know why."

"Do you always tend to be this obsessive-compulsive?"

"I don't think I ever am, actually." Although I had thought about Frank incessantly since I'd talked to him, I doubted Ian would appreciate that example. "I just think knowing who he is could be the easiest piece to fit in this crazy puzzle."

"Here's what I think," Ian began. "You need to employ some thought-stopping techniques to get over this and on with the tournament. You aren't playing your best cards right now."

Thought stopping? What the heck was that? "It's hard to thought-stop two acquaintances vanis.h.i.+ng from a s.h.i.+p and an investigator tumbling off the same s.h.i.+p to his death."

"I could teach you how," he offered smoothly. "You could use it during your poker games when someone is intentionally trying to distract you, during your ad campaigns when personal issues might creep into the work day, even during s.e.x, if you are thinking about an old flame when trying to make sparks with a new one."

"Whoa, uh, thanks, I think I'll take a rain check on that," I said carefully, deciding I'd better change the subject quickly. "Besides, as considerate as it is, why would you care if I were playing my best right now? Let's be realistic, it gives you an advantage to beat me. Use it. I don't blame you. I'd do the same to you."

"You don't get it, Belinda. I'm at the table to watch you play, not play myself. It's worth more to me to watch you win than to win myself."

While intellectually I considered his attention somewhat inappropriate, considering we barely knew each other, emotionally or maybe pheromonally, I was flattered such a young stud brain would be so focused on me. The physical attraction still zinged between us, even though there was something about Ian that made me slightly uncomfortable. Maybe I was afraid he would see too far into a mind I didn't necessarily understand all that well myself.

Our table that night at dinner was subdued, which made it difficult for me to slip away unnoticed for longer than a bathroom trip might take. I certainly didn't want anyone panicking and sending out a search party when I went to get the pill from Rick. I made sure I kept Delia in my sights. She had spotted me when she sat down across the room and glared, a random p.i.s.sed-off look, though, not one that showed me she knew what I was up to.

At least, I hoped not.

I figured that if I got Ben wound up enough about some topic, he would distract not only our table but probably the surrounding ones as well, with his impa.s.sioned discussion. Anything having to do with Texas Hold 'Em would probably do, but I had to find something he wouldn't expect me to chime in on at the same time. And something Mom and Dad would get worked up about.

"How about all this naked poker on the Internet?" I threw out, sneaking a hand down to pick up my clutch.

"It's awesome," Ben enthused. "What a marketing plan-get the p.o.r.n freaks hooked on poker and then we can all beat the pants off them."

Stella giggled at his play on words. Elva's face was going red. I hadn't seen her mad at Ben but maybe a half-dozen times in his life, I might have started the seventh. "Benjamin, bite your tongue."

I rose and excused myself to Ingrid.

"I'll go with you." Ingrid said.

d.a.m.n, I'd forgotten the buddy system pact. I'd have to lose her while she was in a stall. We exited the dining room.

"What did Ian want to talk to you about?"

"I think he's a bit jealous of your boyfriend."

"Who, Frank?"

Ah ha! "Frank's your boyfriend?!"

"No! I just thought that is who you meant. Bee, your sarcasm is so dry sometimes it is difficult for me to understand."

"I was talking about the Marlboro Man. I know he was with you in that cabin yesterday."

Ingrid shrugged as we both entered stalls. "Well, he wasn't."

"Yuck!" I said loudly as I backed out of the stall next to Ingrid and walked down like I was getting into another. I shut the door with a bang and removed my shoes and tiptoed out the bathroom door. I ran on bare feet around the corner. I saw Kinkaid and Valka chatting on the stairs I'd planned to alight, so I stole a trick from Jack and paused just behind a potted palm to listen for a moment.

"That Bee, she's a loose cannon," Kinkaid said.

"We'll just have to take care of her, then." Valka put in ominously.

Ack. They were going to kill me. I changed direction and headed out on the promenade.

I felt someone grab my arm and immediately thought Valka or Ingrid had caught me. I spun, hoping to see Ingrid, and saw a large Korean man looming over me instead. Ack. He was taller than he looked sitting down.

"Bee Cool, long time no see," Sam Hyun intoned in a low, tight voice as he squeezed my upper arm a little harder than he needed to for a friendly chat.

I nodded, opening my mouth and moving my tongue. I couldn't get a sound to come out of my larynx-not even a squeak. This wouldn't help my survival odds when he tried to pitch me over the side of the Gambler.

"You know I really want to kill you," he said.

Not Sam too!?

Why had I ditched Ingrid? She could have come with me to get the pill from Rick. I could've figured out a way to explain it. Now I would never know who was trying to keep him drugged up and why. I would never win the Gambler tournament. I would never see my pet snake Grog again. I would never have children with Frank.

"You're still in the tournament." It was an accusation.

I moved my mouth. Still no sound. I nodded.

"I told you I hate players like you. You just throw s.h.i.+t up against the wall and see what sticks. You beat out conservative, smart players with no skill. You wear fancy, t.i.t-showing getups and hope it distracts people. You have a fricking website . And, you're a woman."

"That," I peeped, surprised to hear my voice, finally. "That's not my fault."

"Everything else is, though."

"Well, the website really isn't-"