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“No,” Blake said. “Why?”
“Because he’s got one.”
Blake turned his body, dragging the woman in his arm with him. He peered toward Mr. Smith and then spun again to try to not get caught looking. “Where?”
“Center of his back pockets,” I said. Of course it could have been a water gun, or something else completely, but I went for the most realistic item for the shape. I had practice at school when I would try to figure out what was in pockets before I picked them. I’d gotten pretty good at it. “I’m pretty certain it’s a gun. Wallet in his left pocket, phone in his right. Gun in the middle. He’s probably got a belt for it. Unless he stuck it in his pants, and then he’s an idiot.”
“Mr. Smith doesn’t have anything registered.”
“Is registration mandatory in this state?”
“No,” Blake said. “Only to carry on public property or conceal carry. And I don’t have a record of him having a gun. He wasn’t on my list.”
“No,” Axel said next to me. He must have been listening to me at least partially. He leaned in and then whispered in my ear. “You can do that?” he asked. “Pick out what they’re carrying just by looking?”
“He’s asking that now?” Blake asked. “You just did it. It’s obvious you can.”
“Yes,” I said, answering both in a way, although I looked at Axel. This was going to get confusing. “He’s carrying right now while dressed for vacation. Isn’t that weird?”
“There’s only one reason I can think of to carry a weapon while on vacation,” Blake said. “And that’s because I expect to shoot someone. Or to be shot at.”
“Sometimes people just carry all the time,” Axel said. He leaned away from me, talking again to Corey.
I thought it was funny that Axel and Blake were almost carrying on a conversation, except they couldn’t hear each other. “You can’t just shoot people with witnesses around,” I said to Blake.
“We’re going out to sea, sugar. There’s lots of place to hide on this ship. And there’s a lot of ocean to dump a body.”
Now I wasn’t able to pull my eyes from Mr. Smith. He was pretty scary on his own, thin but gnarly-looking. He split up from the people he’d boarded with. The blond man greeted him at the big glass doors. They spoke briefly. “Maybe he’s just one of those guys who likes to carry.”
“A right wing nut? Or just an enthusiast? Maybe. But then I’d assume he’d have at least one registered gun somewhere.”
“Let’s find out if he’s right wing or whatever,” I said. I stood up, downed my flute of orange juice grossness and put the empty glass back down at the table. I motioned to Axel that I was going by the bar again and would come back. He nodded, although he stiffened. He didn’t like me getting away from him.
I walked slowly toward the bar, watching as Mr. Smith continued to speak to the staff. I had time, so I walked around the pool, right past Blake and the bunnies.
Mr. Smith plucked a couple of twenties out of his front pocket, passing them over to the blond man who then disappeared into the foyer. Mr. Smith looked around and then headed toward the bar, too.
I covered my mouth and pretended to cough. “Someone needs to follow Mr. Grumpy blond and find out why Mr. Smith just paid him.”
“I’m headed in now,” Blake said. I couldn’t see him now from where I was, closer to the bar but I could hear him breathing a little heavier now. He was walking quickly to catch up and I only caught sight of him as he got to the doors and slipped inside. “Needed to get away from those girls. That high-pitched cackling was about to drive me up a wall. Thank god you don’t cackle.”
I was too close to the bar now, unable to comment. As soon as I got there, I picked up another flute, giving my hands something to do. I looked around casually, taking my time, watching and assessing the other people coming aboard. Most headed inside, a few lingered on the dock, checking out the view of the river.
“Get me a whiskey on the rocks,” Mr. Smith said to the barwoman. He drummed his knuckles on the wood surface and pointed at a particular bottle behind her. “And fill the glass.” He had a dry, gravelly voice. He didn’t clear his throat, so I suspected his voice was always like that.
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t know anything about politics and didn’t really know where to start a conversation. I sighed, trying to relax. Just say hello. I eyeballed Mr. Smith as he leaned on his elbows against the bar. “I really like your shirt,” I said.
Mr. Smith continued to stare ahead for a moment and then shook his head as if I’d broken his concentration and turned to stare at me. “Huh?” he said.
That was an awkward opening. I really wasn’t good at this. I wondered if it was too late to just steal his wallet and walk away. “I like the...” I looked at his shirt again. It was a light blue with tropical islands and sea creatures mixed in: dolphins and fish. “The blue color. It’s my favorite color.”
“Is that your favorite color?” Blake asked in my ear. “I never thought to ask.”
Blake was distracting. Didn’t he know I was making conversation?
Mr. Smith looked down at his shirt and smoothed his hands over the buttons. “Oh,” he said, “thank you.” He looked over to the bartender who was putting ice in a short glass.
I was losing him. Lame conversationalist that I was, I needed a different approach. “Have you been to one of these before?” I asked, going for innocent. Help me sir, I’m the new kid and need directions.
“Are you an intern?” he asked. The bartender handed him his glass and he took it. He swirled his drink and then took several long sips from it. “Do you need to find your owner?”
Rude!
“Mr. Smith is a seasoned traveler,” Blake said in my ear. “There are rumors he is looking to retire and would basically live on cruise ships. No wife or kids. Bachelor forever.”
No kidding. He was a jerk. “I’ve never been on a private cruise,” I said, rolling with whatever was in my head. I could either make friends now, or I’d have to rely on Blake or the others to do it. We weren’t hitting it off, so obviously, I needed to up my game. “Ever since I was hired by Mr. Murdock last year, there’s a lot of these get-togethers and charity events and...”
“I’ve never seen you at a charity event,” the man said. He turned to me, leaning with one elbow on the surface. “I’ve been to all of them.”
I blinked at him, mouth open. Suspicious. Careful. I was just rambling, throwing anything at him to get him to talk. I sucked at this. “We must have missed each other.”
“I don’t know who you are,” he said. He leaned in and I could smell the whiskey on his breath. This wasn’t his first drink. And it was still early in the morning. “And I don’t know why you’re talking to me. I don’t know if you’re even old enough to be drinking what you’ve got in your hand.”
Crap. How old did I look? Maybe innocent wasn’t the way to go since I was trying to look older than the eighteen year old that I was. This wasn’t going to work. I summoned up a brave smile and tried not to look upset. “I’m flattered,” I said. “I hope when I turn sixty I can still look ten years younger.”
“You’re telling me you’re...what? Twenty-six?”
Was he basing his guess off of my ten year difference comment? He’d thought I was sixteen? “I think the glasses throw everyone off,” I said. I touched the corner of them, trying to adjust them. “Makes it harder to be taken seriously when I’m trying to give an investment report.”
“You handle investments?” he asked. “What kind?”
I pressed my lips together. Wasn’t I supposed to get familiar with him
? I was accidentally jumping ahead. I didn’t know what else to talk about. “To be honest, I haven’t done much of anything since Mr. Murdock disappeared. I was invited to this shindig months ago and I’m not even sure if I’m supposed to be here now.”
This seemed to pique his interest. “You worked directly with him?”
I shifted in the loafers and then looked off toward Axel, who was watching me. I needed to get my way out of this. His questions made me uncomfortable and I was walking into dangerous territory. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m talking. I should get going. My boyfriend might be looking for me.” I flashed a smile. “Sorry. Won’t bother you.”
I started to walk away when Mr. Smith reached out and touched my elbow, drawing my attention. “Now hold on here a minute,” he said. “So you did work directly under him?”
My desire to get away and out of the conversation might have made him even more curious. If I didn’t want to talk about it, he might have thought it was a secret. He asked a dangerous question. My reaction was to nod and then it was too late to back down.
“And in investments,” he said. His thin lips twisted into a strange smile. “Now, maybe you and I can talk.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I said. “Like I said, I was going to get out.” Too far. I was taking this too far.
“Because Mr. Murdock owed me a lot of money.” He pointed to his own chest with the glass. “He had me invest a whole hell of a lot. Pretty much every spare dime. I want out.”
“Invest in what?” I asked. “Did he say?”
He shrugged. “You tell me. You’re under him. He didn’t give details. Since he’s disappeared, I thought I was going to have to take a loss. A big one.” He tilted his head, squinting at me. “Why haven’t I seen you around before?”
