Chapter 1

The lacy, white skirt of Annette’s dress whipped in the wind as she paused to gaze up at the massive cruise ship at the end of the dock. One hand held a suspiciously light suitcase, while the other clutched her wide-brimmed hat to her head. Her eyes squinted in the sunlight and a smile brightened her face, distracting from the heavy bags beneath her eyes.

The name of the ship was Blue Jay, Annette noted. Beneath the letters on the ship’s hull was the silhouette of a soaring bird. It was everything she dreamed it’d be.

Annette’s slight frame was lost in the shuffle of the crowd waiting to board and she found it easy to slip past the crew members in their starched uniforms and polished shoes who were checking tickets on the gangway. She could hardly hide her envy as she eyed the other passengers’ tickets. While they were bound for luxurious cabins, she would be dodging the staff, hoping no one discovered she was a stowaway. Not until she found who she was searching for.

It had been ages since Annette had heard from her aunt. Not since her mother’s funeral eight years ago. The older woman had coldly stared down at her sister’s body, face scrunched in distaste, before turning on her stiletto heels and gliding out of the church with barely a look in the weeping Annette’s direction. When the social worker came for Annette, she had learned her aunt had refused to take in her ‘sister’s bastard child’.

Annette had been left to fend for herself. At fifteen, few wanted to adopt her; at least, not with good motives. Annette shivered slightly from the memory.

While she wanted nothing to do with the aunt who had promised to take care of her as Annette’s mother lay dying of an illness that ate her from the inside out, then abandoned her the moment her mother’s eyes closed for the final time, Annette knew Victoria was the only one who might have the answers she desperately sought. Answers that would explain what she held in her suitcase.

Three months ago, Annette had started calling and writing letters to Victoria, hoping to speak to her, but her aunt had ignored her pleas. Determined to question Victoria, Annette learned the older woman had booked a cabin on the maiden voyage of a luxurious cruise ship. Blue Jay. Annette would find her aunt and finally get answers to the questions that had plagued her since she had first discovered the mysterious hidden compartment in the suitcase she now carried; a suitcase that belonged to her late mother.

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A scream cut through the silence of the early morning. A young mother clutched her toddler son close as she gaped in horror at the body that splayed out on the deck. The victim’s white lace dress was soaked in blood so dark it was nearly black, and bloody hand and footprints dotted the deck around the body. By her outstretched hand was a worn suitcase, the red leather faded almost pink.

Other early risers among the passengers were drawn to the scene by the mother’s wails, gathering around to gape at the body of the young woman.

“What’s going on here?” a man shouted from behind the whispering crowd. He wore a crisp white shirt and pressed navy pants, the uniform of the ship’s crew.

“A woman was murdered!” a voice shouted from amongst the press of bodies gathered around the dead woman.

“Are you sure she didn’t just slip and crack her head?” another responded.

“She was obviously stabbed!”

“No way, look at her face, it’s all bruised. She had to have fallen!”

“There’s a murderer on the ship! No one’s safe!”

“Don’t be stupid, who would kill someone on a cruise ship? There’d be no way to escape!”

“Couldn’t they just throw the body overboard?”

“Which proves she wasn’t murdered!”

As more and more voices joined the argument, the crowd began to grow agitated. Angry shouts filled the air as feet were crushed and elbows swung. One man drunkenly shoved another, shouting that he was an idiot, sending him tumbling to the ground to land ass-first in the pool of blood. That was when all hell broke loose.

The people at the edges tried to scatter before they were drawn into the tangled web of flailing limbs. A woman clutched a broken nose, blood gushing, as she tried to duck another blow and escape the frenzy. The man who had been knocked to the ground screamed in pain and curled up to shield himself as the surging crowd trampled him in its haste to escape.

Fear gripped the lone crew member. He desperately called for backup into his radio, then rushed forward to help a woman cradling her wrist as she escaped the scuffle. He guided the passenger toward a seating area before returning to help a teenage boy with a nasty-looking bruise on his cheek.

It took several minutes before more of the crew arrived and managed to break up the brawl. By then, aside from countless injuries of varying degrees, the body of the young woman had been thoroughly battered. The bloody prints at the scene were all but gone, overrun by the dirt and smears from dozens of pairs of stomping shoes.

Security locked down the area and escorted the rioters away, leaving a handful of the crew to stare hopelessly at the mess left behind. Deaths happened aboard cruise ships occasionally, but never like this. Usually, it was someone older, passing away due to an unfortunate stroke or heart attack. But a young woman in her prime and blood visible at the scene was troubling. Even more so now that the crowd had swept away any possible evidence.

“What now, Mr. Breck?” The initial crewmember on the scene said, turning to the chief of security who had remained behind. He struggled to look away from the horrific sight of the girl’s body, but the image was stuck in his head

“Block off the area and get the ship’s doctor up here. We need to take the body to the morgue,” Breck said, grimacing.

“Got it,” the younger man said, turning away to get help. Two steps away he paused and turned back to the body, a thoughtful frown creasing his face.

“Something wrong, Jimmy?” Breck said.

“It’s probably nothing, but… I feel like something is missing,” Joey said, shooting an annoyed glance at his boss. Joey hesitated, glancing around at the disrupted scene. His eyes suddenly widened, and he shouted, “The suitcase!”

“The what?”

“The suitcase!” Joey said. “There was a red suitcase next to her before the scuffle.”

“I don’t see it here now,” Mr. Breck said, looking around. “Must have belonged to one of the other passengers. Don’t worry about it, Jimmy. I’ll handle it from here.”

Joey stifled a growl of frustration, “It was right next to her, like she’d dropped it! And my name isn’t Jimmy! It’s Joey!”

“And it’ll be unemployed if you don’t get your ass in gear and do what I say!” Breck boomed.

Snapping his mouth shut, Joey left to fetch the doctor. 

---

Dr. Ashcroft was an older man who preferred fine suits and finer liquor. Joey knew he kept an expensive stash hidden in the locked medicine cabinet in the back room, very little happened on board that the lower ranks of the crew didn’t hear about through the grapevine. It helped that the good doctor also had an eye for the ladies and had tried – and failed – to seduce more than one unlucky maid, who went on to share the tale of the doctor’s expensive tastes.

However, one of the few mysteries that remained was how Dr. Ashcroft had ended up as the shipboard doctor. Rumor had it he’d been an oncologist. Treating a few bruises and bumps, administering the occasional EpiPen, and handing out indigestion tablets to some overly ambitious visitors to the buffet table hardly required the skills of a doctor who had once specialized in treating one of the most lethal illnesses known to man.

The doctor’s office was packed with victims of the brawl and the man himself was looking on the verge of a breakdown. Or a tantrum. His face was red and drops of sweat were beading on his overly tanned forehead, causing his glasses to fog up. He had heavy bags beneath his eyes like he hadn’t slept at all. His three assistants were equally as ragged as they struggled to keep up with the dozen passengers already crammed into beds and chairs, while more continued to stumble in; some under their own power, and others wheeled in by the crew.

Joey paused in the middle of the room, not knowing how to get Dr. Ashcroft’s attention, and uncertain if he should even try. It felt wrong to drag the doctor away from patients in need.

“If you’re not hurt, get out of the way!” one of the nurses snapped at the frozen Joey, nearly knocking him over in his haste to tend to the next patient. “We don’t have space for gawkers.”

“S-sorry,” Joey stammered, trying to hop out of the path as another passenger stumbled through the door, his ankle swollen like a water balloon. “Mr. Breck sent me. We, uh, we need the doctor on the deck. To… check on the body.”

At that, the doctor’s head snapped up and he glared at Joey, “Body!? Someone died in this mess?”

Joey shook his head, “No, sir. She was dead before the…er… fight.”

Dr. Ashcroft let out a heavy sigh, eyes still glaring at the messenger. “Does it look like I have time to deal with that right now?”

“Mr. Breck seems to think it’s a good idea she’s moved before another riot breaks out.”

Growling, the weary man gestured to one of his assistants, “Take over here. You need to debride the laceration on his arm and wrap it. And check his pupils. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Yanking his gloves off, the doctor barely broke stride as he tossed them away and brushed past Joey, grumbling the whole way.

Joey glanced around the office, eyeing a handful of the more battered patients warily. Some of them had been innocent bystanders, but a few of them Joey recognized as instigators of the fight on the deck.

He casually wandered through the room, keeping an eye out for any signs of the missing suitcase. Despite what his bastard of a boss said, Joey knew the suitcase was probably the girl’s. It was suspicious it was there when no one else was in the area, then disappeared after the fight. The clientele for the voyage was a bunch of rich folks, but that didn’t mean one of them wasn’t a thief. Or a murderer.

Joey surreptitiously glanced under beds and behind the doctor’s desk, trying to think of any place someone might hide the missing suitcase, but found nothing but a plethora of dust bunnies, a few coins, and a suspiciously dirty bandage that Joey carefully avoided touching. He sighed, pausing to stare at a wall dedicated to showcasing the doctor’s achievements and degrees. A display case beneath held a row of pristine, antique surgical tools, none of which Joey could name. Anything more esoteric than a scalpel was beyond him.

With no sign of the missing luggage, and more than a few glares directed his way by the overworked nurses, Joey gave up and left. He only had so much leeway before he got in trouble for shirking his duties.

Joey was only a few steps down the corridor when a voice behind him called out, “Can you spare a moment, young man?”

Joey turned and spotted a woman. Her short, impeccably curled hair had taken on that bluish tinge that old ladies sometimes got. She leaned heavily on a wooden cane with a pewter head shaped like an owl and clutched a comically oversized purse. Her dress was neat, if dated, blinding him with as many pastel florals as one could conceivably print on a single fabric. A thick pair of glasses took up most of her face, bugging out her watery blue eyes.

“Yes ma’am?” Joey said, raising his voice a bit more than normal. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been on the wrong side of a cane because he’d ‘disrespected’ a passenger by not speaking up enough.

The old woman winced, “No need for the shouting, lad. My ears work just fine, thank you.”

“I’m sorry. I just…” Joey paused, “What can I help you with?”

“I overheard you talking to that nice doctor about a young lady who had been hurt.”

“She wasn’t hurt she was… dead.”

The old woman nodded. “I’ve heard.” The elderly woman gestured back toward the doctor’s office with her cane, “And the scene was fouled up by a few hotheads.”

“Yes ma’am. But you don’t need to worry, security will handle it.”

“So they noticed the young lady was missing her hat?”

Joey froze, “What?”

“When the young lady boarded, she was wearing a rather memorable sunhat. It looked quite similar to one I wore in my younger days; made of fine, handcrafted lace to match the dress just so. Even if hers was born of an amateur’s hand.”

“I… no. I don’t believe they know that. Do you know anything else about her, Ms.…” Joey said.

“Evangeline Porter. My friends call me Geenie,” she said. Her wrinkles deepened as she gave Joey a warm smile.

“Ms. Porter,” Joey nodded, “Did you see anything else about her?”

“I don’t believe she was a registered passenger aboard this ship.”

Surprised, Joey asked, “What makes you think that?”

“Because the poor dear dodged the ticket staff like her life depended upon it. Perhaps it did.”

“We don’t execute stowaways, ma’am.”

“Of course not, dear. Forgive this old woman her silly little jokes. But it could have something to do with why that poor girl was murdered.”

Joey frowned, “Why do you think she was murdered?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Geenie said. “A stowaway turns up dead three days out. Hat missing. And out of nowhere, a riot kicks off right on top of the deceased’s body. Far too convenient for my tastes.”

“People can do stupid things when they’re scared. There was a lot of blood, people just freaked out.”

“The crowd may have had a few senseless louts among them but think about it for a moment. Wasn’t there anything about the situation that bothered you?”

“The suitcase disappeared.”

Geenie’s eyes lit up, “Suitcase you say? The red leather one?”

“Yeah, how did you know about it?”

“She was carrying it all over the ship. I thought it rather suspicious. Who but a stowaway would carry their luggage about all day?”

“That’s a pretty good point. It wasn’t a small purse or anything. It would have gotten tiring to cart her stuff everywhere.”

“Just so. Many points simply aren’t adding up. What does your boss have to say?”

Joey grimaced, “He dismissed the suitcase. Said it must have belonged to one of the other passengers. He seems to think it was all some kind of accident, but if you’re right… Murder is seeming more and more likely.”

“Then I suggest we start with questioning the witnesses.”

“Wait, what?” Joey exclaimed, “Shouldn’t we leave that to security? We can just tell them what we figured out!”

“Why would they listen to you now, when they already dismissed you?”

Joey hesitated, “I… well, there’s you now too…”

“Why would the words of an addled old woman mean more to them than their own employee’s?”

“But it could be dangerous. If she was murdered, that means there’s a killer onboard!”

“Exactly! No one is safe until we find the murderer!” Geenie tucked her cane under an arm and rested her hand on Joey’s forearm. Half-dragging and half-leaning on him, she marched down the corridor, “Onward, young assistant! You wouldn’t leave an old granny alone to face a nefarious criminal, would you?”

Joey knew he had no other choice. She was right, he couldn’t leave her alone. He just hoped he’d still have a job after all this. Assuming he didn’t end up like the girl on the deck.

Geenie looked up at her unwilling deputy, a sly smirk on her aged face and a twinkle in her pale eyes.