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From: "Wine Maker" <wine_maker@eknifeshop.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - Chapter 9 (MF, FF, Slow, Romantic Mystery)
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Author's Note:

All,

A couple of award nominations sites are up and I urge everyone to go
nominate the stories and authors they like. If that happens to include
me, I would be thrilled.

My links, if you need them, are:

The Lady in Blue: http://storiesonline.net/story/46048
Finding Elvis: http://storiesonline.net/story/47292
Playing Doctor: http://storiesonline.net/story/48677

With any luck, The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea will be done before the
end of the year. And perhaps more stories.

The 2006 Golden Clitorides are open for nominations until January 17,
2007.

http://www.asstr.org/~Clitorides/nominations2006.html

or email nominations to: golden.clits@gmail.com

Check the eligibility rules and make sure your favorites are elegible.

Nominate everyone you like for whatever categories you think they fit
in and let the voters sort them out.

And, the nominating site for the Silver Clitorides is back up and
accepting nominations until October 7, 2006. I, of course, urge those
that like my work to nominate Playing Doctor and will shamelessly use
it as an example. Please go to the following site to nominate any story
you like that was finished in July, August or September of 2006.

http://www.asstr.org/files/Collections/Clitorides/www/SCA_Current.htm#nom


or if the form fails, vote via email to: silver-clt@hotmail.com

with a subject of: Silver Clitorides Awards Nomination for July, August
or September 2006.

Please include the following information for your vote:

Wine Maker
Playing Doctor
http://storiesonline.net/story/48677
July, 2006

Thanks all,

Wine

Hawk and Gretchen are finally going to take the cruise they've been
waiting almost a year to take. Join them as they rejoin Ted and Lisa,
as well as make new friends to form a spider's web of passionate heat.
And, of course, Death wants to join the party.

This has a real plot and three dimensional characters. It's more than
just a wanker.

Read this story on several sites and vote on each for me. Voting for my
stories encourages me to write more. Remember to vote for each chapter
on Literotica and on the last chapter on Storiesonline.

http://storiesonline.net/auth/Wine_Maker

http://english.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=560253&page=submissions


The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

(c) 2006 by Wine Maker. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Nine: Legwork

Lisa

I woke up in the warm and secure embrace of my husband and smiled
sleepily at him. Last night, I'm not sure exactly when, we awakened to
the sounds of someone else in the suite getting very lucky. At least,
the lady in question sounded like she was having the time of her life.
That sparked a divine early morning lovemaking bout of our own.
Afterwards we curled up against each other and went back to sleep.

Without waking Ted, I gently disentangled myself, slipped out of the
bed and padded quietly into the shower to get ready for the day. Twenty
minutes later, I was out and dressed. I considered waking Ted but
decided I'd go scout out the suite and see about ordering breakfast.

The first thing I noticed was that Trish was no longer on the couch.
Her blanket covered the cushions but the pillow was gone. I wondered
where, and more interestingly, who she'd slept with last night. I
grinned and decided that I'd find out in good time. It sure appeared
that Trish was spreading her wings, though.

There were no other sounds of movement so I figured I must be the first
one up. I called room service, ordered a meal big enough for everyone
in the suite, and walked from door to door, knocking and announcing
that I'd ordered breakfast. Then I stepped out onto the balcony and sat
to watch the sea.

The sun was barely over the horizon and the light made everything seem
perfect. The sharp scent of the ocean tickled my nostrils and I lost
myself in the solitude. In the ship's wake, the water was churned,
white on blue. The sky was almost a match, in spirit if not color, with
the thin white clouds painted on a cerulean background.

A single gull followed in the air behind us, forlornly looking for a
handout. It reminded me that even if I couldn't see the land, it was
somewhere close. The engines were surprisingly quiet and I gloried in
the peace the panoramic view raised in me.

My thoughts strayed to the events of last night, and I sighed to
myself.  Even retired, Hawk seemed to be a magnet for trouble.
Although she always came out ahead, I wished for a more peaceful life
for my friend. That drew another sigh from me, as I knew that Hawk
would be bored stiff by a life like that.  I wondered how Gretchen was
able to accept that part of Hawk's life.  Thinking of Gretchen made me
smile, in part out of relief that she had come out of her ordeal
relatively unhurt, but more because she was a really great thing that
had come out of Hawk's last adventure.  In fact, as I thought about it,
Hawk's cases seemed to lead to someone finding their heart's desire -
someone they could love, marry and grow old with.  I wondered if this
case would have a similar ending.

Everyone was finally coming out of their rooms when the buzzer broke my
reverie and announced breakfast. Trish came out of Sandy and Keven's
room and helped me take everything to the table on the balcony. I kept
casting curious smiles at her and it only took a minute for her to
start blushing.

"Did you hear the screams this morning?" I asked innocently.

Her blush deepened. "Ah, yeah. I'm sorry about that."

I laughed. "Don't be. It sounded like you had a wonderful time."

She smiled at me. "I did. Keven and Sandy were terrific."

The others joined us in pairs and we all dug in. Gretchen looked like
she was feeling a little better. Curiously, it was Hawk that looked
like a truck had run over her. Sandy and Keven distracted me when they
each gave Trish a good morning kiss that left no doubt in any of our
minds that some of us had indeed gotten closer. Gretchen smiled at
Trish with unabashed pleasure.

I smiled, too, as I turned back to Hawk. "Are you okay, Hawk?" I asked.

She waved an English muffin at me. "The twins gave me hell last night,
I had stupid dreams about Skip, and my back is killing me. Other than
that, I'm fine."

"Foregoing the caffeine before bed will moderate the dreams," Sandy
advised, "and a heating pad and a massage at the spa will help your
back. No hot tub, though. That would be dangerous for the twins."

"I don't have time for any of that," Hawk said, taking a bite of her
muffin. "I've got a killer to track down and a mystery to solve."

"Are you sure that's smart, given your condition?" I asked, taking a
bite of my own food.

Gretchen jumped in before Hawk could reply. "What would you do first?"
she asked.  I shot her a look of surprise, but she just gave me a tiny
shake of her head. I couldn't believe that Gretchen, of all people, was
okay with this.

"This all revolves around Skip," Hawk said, giving me a smug smile. "I
need to start by finding out who he knew on this ship. I remember that
he was meeting someone in the casino. Then there are the erotic
authors: one of them may know something."

"Then Ted and I can ask the questions," I said reasonably. "I do know
how to question people."

Hawk didn't look happy at that. She looked even less happy when
Gretchen nodded.

"That's an excellent idea," Gretchen said. "I could go with you."

"No," Hawk bristled, "you can't. The doctor told you to take it easy
and I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Then I could join you in the spa for a massage," Gretchen purred,
springing her trap. "That way you can keep your eyes on me."

Hawk flushed and everyone else laughed.

"You walked right into that one," Jo crowed. "I saw it coming a mile
away."

"Ha! Ha! Very funny," Hawk muttered. "Okay, you win. I'll let you do
the initial footwork. What'll everyone else be doing?"

"Well," Jo said, "I don't have any skills that would help in that, but
I'll drag Earl along and we'll keep you two company. Since I'm not
pregnant, I think a hot tub sounds wonderful."

"As your physician I need to keep an eye on you, Gretchen," Sandy said
piously. Then she grinned. "A massage and hot tub does sound wonderful,
doesn't it?" She looked over at Trish. "Come with us Trish."

The girl smiled and nodded. "You guys sure know how to enjoy
yourselves."

"Okay," I said with a smile at them all. "You go have a good soak, a
massage and let the spa give you a mudpack while Ted and I get the
questioning started. We'll try to catch up with you before you're
done."

The girls were all excited about the spa like it was some kind of
religious experience, but Hawk and the men looked dubious. That sparked
even more good-natured laughter and teasing. All in all, the breakfast
was a resounding success.

-----

An hour later, Ted and I were in the casino. It was similar to the ones
in Vegas, but simultaneously more classy and less glitzy. Maybe there
was a sliding scale on how that worked. The tables and fittings were
all brass, dark wood and glittering crystal. The whole place just
screamed "money."

If I expected it to be empty, I would be sadly mistaken. While it was
far from full, there were at least a hundred people gambling. Looking
at them, I judged that they were the last of the late night crowd, and
they looked tired.

The staff was alert and professional, though. I cornered one of the
waitresses and asked her how I could find out who was on duty here
yesterday afternoon. She pointed me to the bartender.

When I walked up to the bar, the man smiled at me and stopped wiping
the counter down with his rag. "What can I get you, Miss? Of course,
I'll have to see some ID because you don't look old enough to be
drinking."

I laughed at his rakish compliment. "Flatterer! I'm looking for someone
who might have seen a passenger in here just before we left dock."

The man performed a bow with a flourish. "My pleasure. As to the
passenger, I was here yesterday afternoon for a little while so I might
be able to help you. What does this passenger look like?"

I described Skip and the bartender snapped his fingers. "I did see that
guy. We weren't open to gamble yet, but he was in here meeting someone.
They sat at one of the tables against the wall and were bent over like
they were discussing state secrets."

We couldn't be this lucky. Nonetheless, it was hard to keep the
eagerness I was feeling from coming out in my voice. "Can you describe
the person he was meeting?"

The bartender shrugged. "I wasn't watching them that closely, I'm
afraid. I can tell you he was average height and build and had dark
hair. They were here, I don't know, maybe half an hour?"

I hid my disappointment and smiled at him. "You've been very helpful.
Thank you."

Ted slipped a bill into the tips jar and escorted me back out of the
casino. "That wasn't very helpful."

"Sure it was," I disagreed. "We didn't know if he was meeting a man or
a woman before. Or possibly several people."

Ted shrugged. "Sure, but how can we know who he met?"

I thought furiously. "Well, if Hawk can get some help from Hans, she
could get the camera footage from the casino."

Ted rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's true, but it's a big
'if'. What now, O great investigator?"

"We need to talk to some of the erotic authors," I said, heading for
the ship's courtesy desk. "We might be able to get a list of people
that signed up in advance for the awards."

The girl at the help desk checked for me, but could only tell me the
name of the man that paid for the room; Stan Bombeck. I asked her to
call his room for me and she pointed at the courtesy phone and dialed
on her system. I picked up the phone and listened to the tones as she
dialed.

A sleepy sounding man answered the phone on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Mister Bombeck," I said, "My name is Lisa Stansbury. I'm sorry to wake
you so early but there was an incident last night involving one of the
authors at the awards ceremony. Can I meet with you to discuss it?"

There was a muffled curse and then a sigh. "Sure. How about I meet you
somewhere in about half an hour and we I can get some food?"

"That's perfect," I said. "We'll be in the dining room on the main
floor." I described Ted and myself so he would be able to find us and
politely ended the call.

"You're a genius," Ted assured me.

I smiled in pleasure, and we went to get some coffee and wait.

-----

Stan Bombeck came up to our table almost half an hour later. He was in
his forties and a bit portly, but not an unhandsome man. He was dressed
in shorts and a tee shirt that proclaimed the benefits of aromatherapy.


"Mrs. Stansbury?" he asked. At my nod, he sat down and shook our hands.
"That coffee looks good. Do you mind me ordering something? I'm
starved."

"Go right ahead," Ted assured him. "We've already eaten so don't mind
us."

Shortly he had ordered and had a coffee of his own that he held up in
reverence before sipping. "Coffee, the nectar of the gods." He set the
cup down and sighed. "Okay, lay it on me. What did they do? Get into a
fight? Moon someone? Get caught having sex on the Promenade?"

"If only it were something that easy," I sighed. "I think one of your
authors was thrown overboard last night."

Stan blinked at me, obviously taken aback. "What? Thrown overboard?
This is a joke, right?"

"We found Skip Niccio's jacket on the deck by the rail last night," Ted
said. "It was torn to shreds and bloody. Obviously if he was thrown
overboard there wouldn't be an easy way to prove it, but it sure looks
that way."

Stan looked at both of us in shock. "Well, I certainly hope you're
wrong, but if anyone was going to be thrown overboard, it would be
him."

I glanced at Ted and then spoke softly. "Why do you say that? I've
heard he was a bit temperamental, but that's certainly not enough to
motive for killing someone."

"Until this cruise," Stan said, accepting his breakfast from the
server, "I'd never met him in person, but I'll tell you that for all
the exceptional writing he produced, he also generated a lot of ill
will. Frankly, though, I don't think he was targeted for being an ass."

He dug into his food and waved his fork at us. "I really should have
canceled this cruise for the ceremony with all the other trouble."

"What other trouble?" I asked, sipping my coffee.

"The murders," he said mysteriously.

"There've been more?" I asked, shocked.

Stan nodded. "If I'd heard about the one in Miami before we set sail,
I'd have jumped ship myself. I can't take credit for figuring it out,
though. Some reporter did. Over the last four months, according to the
news report, someone has killed four erotic authors in various parts of
the country. Skip would make five, if he's dead."

Ted frowned and glanced back at me. "You're taking it pretty calmly.
Wouldn't such a small community notice some of their own dropping off
the radar like that?"

"Just because I eat when I'm worried doesn't make me calm about it,"
Stan retorted. "Until right now, I wasn't sure that the reporter wasn't
just wacky. All of us use aliases; and you wouldn't believe how often
an author, even a well-known one, just drops off the face of the earth
for a while. I can't even match the names in the paper to the screen
names of any authors."

"What name do you write under?" I asked, trying to move back to a less
confrontational tone.

"Night Stranger," Stan said, digging in even more deeply to his food.
"Though I'd appreciate you not being too free with my real identity."

"That's an interesting name," I said brightly. "I'll have to try and
find some off your writing. Back to Skip, though. Is there anyone here
that you know of that has an issue with him?"

"Something worth killing over?" he asked. Then he shook his head. "Even
after that fool stunt of his last night - telling everyone he wasn't
going to post the conclusion to his saga, I can't see anyone throwing
him off this ship. When all is said and done, it is just a story. Given
that it's posted for free, more of an internet ego thing for those of
us who write, there isn't even any money involved."

"Maybe it was an accident," Ted said. "Perhaps they fought and no one
intended to do something so drastic."

Stan nodded his head in agreement. "I can see that possibility,
although I wouldn't downplay the power of ego. You see, he stepped on a
lot of toes with that crazy announcement, and I can't help you with any
names there, but he did single out one other author to tear to shreds
in group-discussions - right in front of him, as it turns out. If that
isn't a blow to the ego I don't know what is. Southland38. I don't know
his real name but I may have his room phone or something back in my
cabin."

"If you could help us out with that, we'd appreciate it," I said.

"Oh, I guess I should have asked, but you're with the police, right?"
he asked.

"Close," I said. "I'm an officer of the court and I'm assisting in an
investigation into the incident." That was true, even if the court had
no jurisdiction here.

"I see," he said, not really seeing. "If you'll give me a number, I'll
call you as soon as I get back to my room."

"Perfect," I said. "We appreciate your cooperation, and we may be
getting back in touch with you for more information at a later time."

"I'll be happy to help," he said. "I may not have liked Niccio, but I
want to see this turn out right."

I rose to my feet and we shook hands before Ted walked out with me.

"Can't you get into trouble for that?" Ted asked.

"Yelled at, perhaps," I said with a grin. "Anyone can ask questions,
and if you think about it, I didn't lie to him."

"You bent the truth into a pretzel," Ted accused me.

"Yup," I admitted with a grin, "but if you ask Hawk, she'll tell you
that all's fair in questioning - at least as far as deceiving the
subject goes."

"Do you believe him?"

I shrugged. "One thing I have learned is that people lie. He did take
this awfully well. Don't worry. Hawk will open him up if he's playing
some kind of game. Now the next item on the agenda."

"Oh," Ted asked suspiciously, "what's that?"

"Getting into Skip's room for a look around," I said.

Ted frowned at me and shook his head. "Let Hawk try to get some
leverage first."

As much as I wanted to go and look, I reluctantly decided he was right.
We should run it past Hawk before I did something as drastic as
breaking and entering.

Stan called while we were discussing it and gave me the phone number to
Southland38's room. I called but no one answered. I'd have to try again
later. At least with the number, I could probably track down his name.

"Fine," I conceded to Ted, "you win this one, but that just means you
get to go to the spa with the rest of us. I think a seaweed wrap will
do you some good." I said wickedly.

"Only if you're a mermaid," he said with a kiss.

With that, we headed to the elevators to find the rest of the group.

-----

The spa was a very modern looking affair of marble and chrome. The
almost overwhelmed staff bustled through the bright and airy lobby.
They escorted us into gender-separated rooms to undress after I
explained we were catching up with our party. I locked my clothes and
purse into a locker and pinned the key to my bright white terrycloth
robe.

Once I was ready, a woman escorted me to the mud room. There, laid out
on tables next to each other, were all the girls. Mud was slathered
across their bodies and slices of cucumber covered their eyes.

Hawk looked so funny I wished I had a camera. Her belly was like a
chocolate mountain.

"Well, well. Look what we have here?" I drawled, slipping out of my
robe, putting it under the remaining table, and lying down.

"Lisa?" Hawk asked, her ears perking up. "What did you find out?"

I laughed at her eagerness. "Let me get gooed and then I'll tell you."

Hawk grumbled, but let the woman get me covered in mud without any real
bitching. When my eyes were covered and the woman had left, Hawk cut
loose. "Okay, she's gone. What did you find out?"

I relaxed into the table and filled them all in on what I'd learned.

"It's not going to be easy to track people down by aliases," Jo said.
"They could be any of the passengers."

"It can't be impossible," I said. "Someone has been figuring out who
they are. At least four of them have been tracked down and murdered,
according to a news report."

"That's what the news article I read said. When we find out what that
method is," Hawk said, "we'll be close to knowing who the killer is."

We all lapsed into silence, letting the mud do its work. If the past
were any indication, things would be crazy as soon as Hawk got her
teeth into this case for real. I heard someone come in to check on us,
but she didn't interrupt our relaxation and went back out a minute
later.

I relaxed so much, I slipped into a doze and awoke with a start when
the attendant tugged on the towel under me.

"Time to wash you off and send you on to the masseuse, dear," she said
cheerfully. Deftly, she plucked the cucumber off my eyes and helped me
to a sitting position. I saw that two other ladies were helping the
rest of the girls.

The entire flock of us quickly washed off and wrapped in our robes
before being hustled down the hall to individual massage rooms. "Would
you like a masseuse or masseur, dear?" the woman asked as she started
closing the door behind me.

"Masseur," I said. "I need a nice, deep massage."

"One husky man coming up," she said. "Slip under the sheet face down
and he'll be here in a few minutes."

I lay on the table and put my face into the special padded rest with an
opening so I could breathe. The cool cloth caressed me from my feet up
to my neck, and I discovered that my skin was alive with tingles. I
loved a good, invigorating mudpack.

The door opened and a large man in a crisp white ship-suit came in.
"Good morning, I'm Claude. How would you like to be massaged today?"

"Lisa," I responded. "All over and as deep as I can stand."

"You got it," he rumbled and sprayed lotion on his hand from a bottle
in the belt at his waist.

-----

An hour later, I felt like putty. Claude had taken me at my word and
dug deep into the muscles of my body until they screamed. Now that he
was done, I lay for a moment in a euphoric cloud. I don't think my body
had ever felt this good except after great sex. It took all my
willpower to climb to my feet and slip my robe on.

Outside I met the others on the trek back to the dressing room. They
all looked like they'd had a good time, most especially Hawk. I leaned
over and kissed her on the cheek.

"You look like you feel better," I said as I pulled back with a smile.

"I take it all back," Hawk declared. "This girl stuff is great. My back
feels almost normal. The woman massaged it and then called in an
acupuncturist to relieve the pain and cramping. Even my skin feels
good." She grinned at me. "Who the hell would've ever figured that
rolling around in the mud had such benefits? Maybe little boys aren't
as dumb as they look."

I laughed. "Somehow I bet the mud here has ingredients not found in
your normal mud. I'm so glad you're feeling better."

"I could take the Right Reverend and give him the first two swings.
After lunch," she amended. "I'm starving."

In the dressing room, the girls opened their lockers and started
dressing, but when I felt for my key, it was not pinned to the robe.
"Crap. Be right back," I said.

I went to the massage room and looked around but didn't find it. Then I
went to the mud room we'd used. I quietly opened the door and found it
occupied with a new group of women. I slipped quietly inside and looked
around the floor. The women didn't react to me because they couldn't
see me. Then, with a silent cry, I spotted it lying on the floor beside
my table. It looked like the clasp had come open and it had fallen off.

With it in hand, I triumphantly made my way back to the dressing room
and hurriedly dressed. Everyone was waiting for me in the lobby as I
rushed up.

"Sorry," I panted. "My stupid key fell off in the mud room. Let's go
eat."

As we rode the elevator down toward the dining room, an announcement
interrupted the soft music. "Shauna Hawkins, please call 1356 on any
ship's phone. Shauna Hawkins, 1356. Thank you."

We all looked at Hawk in surprise. She grinned at us. "With any luck at
all, it's show-time."

There was a courtesy phone outside the elevator when we arrived at our
deck, and Hawk snatched it up and dialed. "Hawkins."

I could hear the angry buzzing of a male voice but not the words. It
must have been good, because Hawk grinned at me.

"I'm sure you don't mean that, Lieutenant de Luca," Hawk almost purred.
"There's no need to take this so hard. I'm sure that we can work
together on this."

De Luca's voice got louder and individual words became understandable
from the noise as Hawk put a few inches between the phone and her ear.
Words like "no way in hell" and "over my dead body" rang out. All in
all, not promising.

"Look," Hawk said in the same pleased tone she'd been using, "you
probably need a few minutes to calm down. All that yelling is bad for
your blood pressure. I'll eat lunch and then come by your office.
Ciao." She hung up before he could respond, grinning like the Cheshire
Cat.

"You sure know how to win friends and influence people, Hawk," I said
dryly. "What did he say? What's going on?"

She shrugged eloquently and kept grinning. "Damned if I know what that
was all about. All I picked out was him shouting that there was no way
in hell that he'd ever let something happen. Over his dead body. The
usual kind of stuff. We'll have to wait until after lunch to find out."

"Well you can bet your sweet ass that I'm not letting you meet him
without someone to pull him off you if he snaps," Gretchen said. "I'm
going!"

"Okay," Hawk agreed readily. Too readily.

Gretchen narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What are you up to?"

"Me?" Hawk asked innocently. "I'm just off to have lunch. Come on,
girls." She started toward the dining room at a slow waddle. Gretchen
pestered her every step of the way but Hawk was adamant and refused to
elaborate.

Once we seated ourselves, Hawk set the pace of the meal and that pace
was dead slow. She ordered us appetizers, soup, then the various
entrees, dessert and finally coffee. By the time we were done with
lunch almost two hours had passed. Hawk met every attempt to speed up
the process with a grin and told us to "slow down and enjoy life."

Hawk looked at her watch. "Well, I think we've made him wait long
enough. Gretchen and Lisa, you're with me. Can you other girls
entertain yourselves for just a bit? I don't think a crowd would work
here."

They looked at each other and consulted briefly. "We'll go check out
the casino," Jo said. "Then we'll check back at the room to see if
you're done."

"Perfect," Hawk said. "Come on."

Gretchen and I followed her to the elevators. "Hawk, what are you
doing? What will keeping him waiting this long gain you?"

"Dominance," Hawk said with a smile. "Whatever the news is, he's
already royally pissed, and just running at his beck and call sends the
wrong signal. If we get off on the wrong foot, then..."

"Wrong foot!" Gretchen interrupted incredulously. "I can't believe you
can say that after you hung up on him and made him wait two hours. I
won't even mention what I heard you say to him last night." Hawk
started a bit at that, and Gretchen gave her a wolfish smile. "Yes, I
heard you, Hawk. I was hurt, not dead. Regardless, my point is how
could you be on a more wrong foot after all that?"

Hawk laughed delightedly. "I'm happy to finally be able to repay you
for you all your 'honey attracts more bees' lessons, sweetie, and share
some human nature with you, in return, dear. Once you've tossed out the
honey jar and gotten into a pissing contest, you have to set the stage
and show the other guy who's boss up front. Otherwise they'll undermine
you every step of the way. If I let him think he can yank me around
then he will. Now, unless I'm sadly mistaken, he'll be angry, but he'll
end up accepting that I'll do what I can without his permission. In
this case since I'm never going to be his friend, I have to settle for
forcing him to let me do my job."

"If you say so," Gretchen said uncertainly.

"Hawk's right," I assured Gretchen. "Cop's are designed for determining
and maintaining turf and pecking order. Just asking nicely wouldn't get
her anything but a loss of respect."

"Okay," Gretchen said with a shrug. "Where're we going?"

Hawk reached over and pushed a button. "I checked where his office was
just in case I needed to come harass him," she said with a large smile.

-----

Hawk presented us at the front desk of the ship's security department
and the uniformed woman quirked a smile at Hawk as she pointed back to
one of the offices, obviously trying to suppress a grin. Hawk didn't
bother suppressing anything and grinned at her. "Ignore any and all
screams as well as smashed glass. This promises to be an eventful
meeting."

The woman whose nametag read "Collins" couldn't repress a laugh at that
and waved us in. The several dozen people in the main room watched us
go to the door labeled "Chief Investigator" with a mixture of dread and
awe.

Hawk rapped on the door once but didn't wait for a response before she
opened the door and bustled inside. Gretchen and I followed her in.

The office was of decent size and certainly wasn't plain. A couple of
plants and some knick-knacks brightened a drab white set of walls. The
wooden desk looked new, though it had more than a few things scattered
across its surface.

However, Lieutenant de Luca dominated the room from his seat behind the
desk. He speared Hawk with an icy glare that would have frozen a dozen
jaunty troublemakers where they stood.

Hawk, however, was apparently less than impressed. She dropped into one
of the chairs without invitation, and for a second I was afraid she was
going to prop her feet on his desk. Thank God for her belly stopping at
least that provocation because just the rest of her behavior seemed
destined to make de Luca pop a blood vessel.

"Sorry we took so long," Hawk said insincerely. "You know how long it
takes a woman, especially a pregnant woman, to do anything."

"Is there a purpose to this?" de Luca ground out, visibly reigning in
his temper.

"Absolutely," Hawk said cheerfully. "This is your first clue not to
yell at me like I'm your bitch." Her eyes hardened and she leaned
forward. "Treat me with respect and you'll get respect in turn. Fuck
with me and I'll fuck you back. You want to try that phone call over,
or should I just get used to being this way? Take your time."

I watched the vein in his temple throb and his eyes slowly bulge in his
head. I hope he didn't have an aneurysm.

He unclenched his fists and slowly - ever so slowly - forced himself
back from the edge of violence. Deep breath followed deep breath until
his towering rage was caged and only cold anger remained in his eyes.

"Since I have no choice," he said icily, "I suppose I'll take the
do-over. I regret my intemperate words."

Rather than continue to bait him, Hawk only nodded. "And I regret that
I've disrespected you on your turf."

De Luca looked surprised for a moment, took another deep breath and
nodded again. "I don't know whose chain you pulled, but it looks like
you're going to get your way, Detective Hawkins."

"Why don't you tell me exactly what that means," Hawk prompted him as
Gretchen and I slowly sat in our own chairs, now that we were
relatively certain there wouldn't be blood shed.

"You don't know?" he asked with evident disbelief. "It's everything you
were demanding and more. The Captain came here in person to tell me.
Imperial Lines has hired you as a 'Special Investigative
Troubleshooter.' Someone at corporate pushed this down my throat, and I
damned well want it on record that this is being done over my
objections and against my advice." His tone grew more belligerent
toward the end and he was glaring across the table again.

Hawk seemed unperturbed by his evident anger. "And just what does it
mean to be a 'Special Investigative Troubleshooter'?"

"It means," de Luca spat, "that you have the legal authority to
investigate any crime aboard any Imperial Lines vessel. And, as much as
it pains me, my department will assist in whatever ways we can."

"Now we're talking," Hawk purred. "The first order of business is to
find out if Skip really took a swim. I assume you've started a search
of the ship?"

"The crew is doing a walk-through of the common areas," he admitted
grudgingly. "It should be complete in an hour. That won't do any good
if he is in a private room, of course."

"What about his room?" I asked. "Has anyone checked to see if he is
there?"

"Not yet." He said without elaboration.

Hawk rolled her eyes. "Come on," she rumbled. "This isn't some minor
crime we're talking about. He is either dead, in a world of hurt,
floating in the water or this is all just an exercise and he's safe and
sound somewhere on this ship. Let's eliminate the ship. Page him on the
loudspeakers and let's check his room to be sure he isn't there. If he
isn't found I want the ship searched fully and that includes every
cabin."

"I'll start the search but I won't have word on the entire ship
until late," de Luca said with a scowl.

"Fine, let's at least see if Skip's cabin has been disturbed," Hawk
said.

De Luca gave in with a shrug. He stood up and we followed him out of
the office. The staff was still watching us with apprehension and a bit
of awe. I suppose no one came in here and overruled the boss.

The trip to Skip's room only took a few minutes. With a swipe of his
master key de Luca opened the door. When he opened it we all could see
inside. And what a disaster it was. Someone had taken drawers out of
the dresser and the contents were scattered everywhere.

I was glad now that Ted had talked me out of just going in. This way
was better. It preserved the evidence if it was a crime scene.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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