Deadly Reunion Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Deadly Reunion

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Seafood Gumbo á la Gil

  Deadly Reunion

  By June Shaw

  Copyright 2013 by June Shaw

  Cover Copyright 2013 by Ginny Glass and Untreed Reads Publishing

  The author is hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright. Either the publisher (Untreed Reads) or author may enforce copyrights to the fullest extent.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, dialogue and events in this book are wholly fictional and any resemblance to companies and actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Also by June Shaw and Untreed Reads Publishing

  Relative Danger

  Killer Cousins

  http://www.untreedreads.com

  Deadly Reunion

  June Shaw

  Chapter 1

  “I see you got old and lost your figure,” my former high school classmate said as I stepped onto the cold Lido Deck, reminding me of why peers always wanted to kill her.

  “What a way to start a reunion. I flew to Anchorage to hear insults?” I said.

  “You know I was kidding, Cealie. Come here.” Sue Peterson threw out her arms.

  “And you—” I said, ready to give a sassy retort to this woman I hadn’t seen in decades, “—are gorgeous.” To my dismay, she did look great. Her slinky dress revealed perky breasts thrust over a slim waist. Her hips were slender and legs shapely, accentuated by spiky heels. Her neck and face looked so tight my lipstick tube could bounce off them.

  “I’m thrilled that you could join us.” She squeezed me in a hug, breasts so rigid I feared they’d indent my chest. “You know I was joking, right?”

  “I did put on a few pounds,” I admitted. “And these wrinkles—”

  “Can be taken away by a good plastic surgeon.”

  Was that supposed to make me feel better? I shivered from the chilly air and imagined the ship rocking, although we couldn’t leave shore until we completed this safety drill. “Have you seen the others? I can’t wait to see what everybody looks like. This is my first reunion.” I glanced at the gathering crowd, wondering if I would recognize people I’d known so well, whose main concerns back then had been zits, passing exams, or losing last week’s boyfriend. Now many of us were grandparents.

  “I saw everybody, especially Miss Popular. She sure has problems.”

  “That’s what convinced me to come. That, and getting to visit my son and his family. I can’t wait to be with the old gang.”

  “Not many of them showed up.”

  “Please close in spaces to let others move in,” a petite female crewmember said through a megaphone. “We have passengers coming up from the Main Deck. Be careful. And make sure you have your life jacket.”

  Sue squeezed against me alongside the outdoor pool. Unable to make my wrinkles suddenly disappear, I sucked in my stomach, drew up my five foot two inch frame, and still remained half a foot shorter than my striking classmate.

  Scores of passengers wore their life jackets, while many of us gripped ours. Voices carried, and stomping feet came from passengers on outdoor steps.

  I peered around, hoping to see familiar faces. Would I still recognize my classmates? Would they know me? What were they doing with their lives?

  I stared at women. Were any of them people I’d gone to Westside High with? One had the round face and tiny eyes of someone I’d known in school. She didn’t return my smile. But a bride did.

  “A bride,” I said, stepping to the young woman in a strapless wedding gown. “Are you getting married?”

  “We did this morning on the ship.” With a bright smile, she shivered.

  “Congratulations.” I gave her a hug and spied the young man in a tux behind her. “And congratulations to you,” I said and hugged him.

  “Thanks,” they said in unison.

  I turned to make sure Sue saw them, but she was no longer around. Figuring she’d found our friends on this deck, I squeezed through other passengers till I located her.

  She leaned toward a man in a hot pink knit shirt who appeared fifteen years younger than we were, her breasts stabbing his chest. They shared sensual smiles.

  Was this her boyfriend? Husband? His skin looked as firm as hers and his body as trim. But nature probably gave him his youthful appearance. He might have been her adopted son, but their flirty looks and body language told me they weren’t related. I knew about Sue’s earlier life but hadn’t heard much since our graduation.

  “I’m glad I found you,” I told Sue and then grabbed the young man’s hand. “Hello, I’m Cealie Gunther. You two know each other?”

  He gave her a lewd smile. “We just met.”

  “Sue is actually my aunt,” I told him. “I only call her Sue because we’re the same age.” I lowered my head to make sure the skin on my neck drooped and a slight double chin formed. If this guy thought she was a youngster, I’d make certain he knew better. I almost wished I’d left my roots gray. Sue’s highlights ran to the base of her dyed brown hair. Anticipating a reunion with high school friends, I’d made extra preparations, and figured the other girls would, too. I’d had my hair dyed and styled, a manicure and pedicure and relaxing massage. A shopping trip and study of our yearbook rounded out preparations.

  “Aunt and niece the same age—cool,” he said.

  Cool. We’d used that word to describe everything.

  “Did you come on this trip alone?” I asked, not deterring the guy from casting a lusting scan over my classmate’s figure.

  His wanting to make out with her would not be a good thing.

  This was my Aunt Sue. But before that, she had been my Uncle Stu.

  Uncle Stu became Aunt Sue two years after we finished high school. Friends and I thought he might wait to become a she, but his parents allowed the surgery.

  I never found out how much of him had been altered.

  “No, I’m not alone,” the man wearing pink told me.

  “Your wife’s not with you?” I asked, but no one paid attention. Our crewmember with the megaphone ordered us to put on our lifejackets. She’d give instructions for hooking up the straps.

  Our new friend helped Sue with hers, laughing flirtatiously as his hands grazed her breasts. She returned his smile and leaned into him, speaking softly.

  Not soon enough, our instructions ended. We should return to our cabins to replace life jackets and be careful walking, espe
cially holding up the straps.

  “My cabin’s aft. Nice meeting you two,” the man in pink said. He winked at me. “Make sure you don’t trip on that strap.”

  “I probably won’t.” I was ready to get rid of him.

  “Isn’t he cute?” Sue asked the moment he evaporated into the crowd heading to the rear.

  “Cute. And young.”

  “Sometimes those are best.”

  Conversing became difficult as we squeezed with scores of others into the smaller area near the elevators and stairwell. “What deck are you on?” Sue asked.

  “Pacific.”

  “Me too.”

  “Great.” I faked a grin and hoped we didn’t have adjoining cabins.

  “We’ll meet all the others at dinner.”

  “Great. I’ll take the stairs now.”

  “Okay, me too.”

  We walked one deck down the wide crowded stairwell. At the next deck, I headed for the starboard hall. Announcements blared from speakers, but the buzz of people walking and talking drowned out the message.

  “My cabin’s right there.” Sue pointed a few doors down. “I’ll see you at dinner in a little while. We have early seating, you know.”

  Nodding, I watched her go. A man in the group walking behind her looked familiar. No, it couldn’t be Randy. No men from our class were invited on this trip. I was only imagining how other people from my class looked now.

  In my stateroom I unpacked, wishing I’d brought more clothes made of wrinkly fabric. I always traveled lightly, especially since I’d shed my life of so many things. Things took up space and held people back. After my husband died, I found so many items stuffed into cabinets and closets, I decided to lighten my life and my house. I’d since then shucked the house. Now I traveled. I might need to purchase a few items in the onboard shops, I saw, counting the tops and dresses I’d brought and coming up short.

  I’d worn comfortable shoes, knit slacks, and a light sweater for my flight here, planning to change into a nicer outfit to meet my school friends. But until I could buy more items, I decided to keep on what I wore. Sure, first impressions were important—especially since I was about to face women I’d befriended and sometimes competed with. But that was long ago. I had come way beyond that petty thinking, I told myself.

  And then I envisioned Sue.

  I grabbed my sexy skirt, the leather one that stopped inches above my knees. Yanking it on, I pulled on a fluffy sweater and exchanged my sensible shoes for heeled boots.

  In the mirror covering the closet door, I found a more youthful Cealie. I grabbed my makeup kit and dabbed on more blush, swiped on another coat of mascara, and drenched my lips with coral lipstick.

  The mirror’s image made my shoulders slump. I stared at a middle-aged woman trying to look younger than her grandkids.

  Tugging off boots and skirt, I replaced them with the comfortable clothes and wiped off the makeup. A light coat of liquid makeup hid a few wrinkles. A touch of lipstick and mascara rounded out the work on my face. I wiggled my fingers through my waves and glanced out the door to my balcony at the crystalline blue water we rolled through.

  I hadn’t come on a cruise to remain in my room or sit on my balcony. While waiting for dinner, I would get around other people and maybe find some I knew.

  I trotted down the hall, snagged an elevator, and rode down.

  In the Grand Atrium, every inch of the room displayed opulence, from the glittering chandelier hanging from its domed ceiling three decks above, to the shiny gild-trimmed glass elevators carrying guests, and the matching circular restraining walls above. Hundreds of voices competed with jazz from the grand piano played by a female pianist wearing a tux. Exquisite fawn-colored carpet and gold medallion wallpaper looked new. The scent of liquor drifted from passengers filling every spot near the bar. No face looked familiar.

  I spied people gathering at one end of the deck above. The time for our dinner seating must be approaching. I walked up the circular marble stairwell, imagining I was Scarlett O’Hara, although my slight shortness of breath reminded me I was nowhere near her age.

  One of numerous crewmembers in tuxes with our maître d’ greeted me at the dining room door. He checked the table number on my sailing card and guided me into the massive room with shiny china, crystal, and silver on linen-topped tables. Two women sat near each other at the nearby table for six where we stopped.

  “Oh, my gosh, Cealie, it’s you.” Jane Easterly stood and squeezed me in a hug.

  “Jane, I’ve missed you.” I felt her slight extra plump, which felt comforting, probably because of my own.

  Tetter Hargroove sat with a tentative smile. “Hey, Cealie.”

  I hugged her. “It is so great to see you.”

  “You don’t know how many times I wanted to call you,” Jane said, “but I couldn’t find your number until lately when I was looking for a ticket in a drawer.”

  “I’m so glad you did.” I sat across from her. “I was afraid I might not recognize either of you, but y’all look fantastic.”

  “You, too,” Jane said.

  “You haven’t changed,” Tetter offered.

  She lied, but I accepted the compliment. “I would have thought you two might look really different, but you don’t.”

  “I haven’t gotten any taller, just like you.” Jane grinned. She was tiny, a pinch taller than I was. Her soft blue eyes flashed extra bright and chestnut brown hair flipped at the ends. She wore a periwinkle dressy casual pant set.

  Blond back in school, Tetter wore her white-blond hair in a sleek chin-length cut. Colored? Natural? I couldn’t tell. An unusual paisley-printed pink and orange shirt looked great on her pale coloring. The tip of her nose kept that endearing upward tilt. Her eyes, though, lacked their luster.

  “Sue hasn’t gotten here yet?” I asked. “She told me she saw all of you.”

  Tetter shook her head, her tight lips curved down at the edges. Of course she had that major problem we’d come to help her solve. I couldn’t bluntly ask about it but knew she would talk about it soon enough.

  Jane leaned toward me. “You haven’t found anyone else to marry?”

  “I don’t have any marriage plans.” An ache squeezed in my chest. I had found someone but couldn’t stay with him yet. “But you’re still married?”

  “Thirty-five happy years. Just like Tetter. She eloped exactly one month after our wedding.”

  Our table stewards arrived and introduced themselves, an exuberant young woman and an insecure-looking man, probably on his maiden voyage. They took our drink orders, opened linen napkins on our laps, and handed us menus. While we made selections from the enticing fare, our male steward retrieved breads for us to select.

  “I feel like a queen,” Jane said once we turned in our orders. “This is only my second time to cruise.”

  “You’ll love it. And Alaska is fantastic,” I said. “Tetter, you’ve cruised before?”

  “Yes.” Eyes forlorn, she sipped from her water goblet.

  Our wine arrived. “To being together. And Westside High.” Jane lifted her glass in a toast.

  “Yay, W.H.S.,” I said, Tetter and I clinking wine glasses against hers. Our old friend, everybody’s buddy, was staying too quiet. I hated to pry into her business so early but might need to.

  “Are many others from our class coming?” I asked, noticing passengers filling tables around ours. None resembled former classmates.

  Jane shook her head. “I was trying to get everyone from our gang at school. We were going to have a great little reunion of our closest friends.”

  “And you invited Stu—now Sue,” I said. “Did y’all get close?”

  “No, I just felt sorry for him. Her. Whatever,” Jane said. “Especially after people started canceling. Angie’s mother broke her hip. Suzanna’s youngest grandson broke a leg while waterskiing. Elizabeth’s husband needs a triple bypass.”

  “Poor things,” I said. “I’ll miss them, but I know family comes
first.”

  Our entrees came. We raved about how good our exquisite dishes looked and tasted. We had finished our breads, soups, salads, and entrees, and were studying the dessert menus when Sue arrived.

  “I’m just in time for the good stuff.” She took a chair and glanced at my menu. All of us ordered the Exotic Chocolate Explosion.

  “Were you unpacking all that time, or did you take a nap?” I asked.

  “Getting a massage.” Sue flashed a bright smile.

  “I didn’t think the spa opened until seven tonight,” Jane said.

  Sue didn’t respond. She peered in every direction around the dining room. “This place is wonderful. It’s my maiden voyage.” She grinned at us. “I feel like a virgin.”

  “A virgin cruiser.” Tetter’s tone lay flat. Normally, she would crack jokes about Sue’s comment.

  “Enjoy.” Our waitress brought mountains of soft devil’s food cake with chocolate sauce swirling down the sides, topped by dollops of whipped cream and a cherry.

  My mouth watered. I set down my wine glass and grabbed my dessert fork.

  “I can’t eat this,” Sue said. “My figure would be ruined.”

  Before anyone could respond, a woman’s scream pierced the air, coming from outside our room.

  People glanced at each other and at the entrance. Everyone from our table darted from the room, along with lots of others. Some individuals were down in the stairwell.

  “Get back! They’re coming with a stretcher,” a crewmember yelled. “We need space. Please get back.” More crewmembers joined him. The crowd shifted away.

  A wrench-like squeeze gripped my chest. I saw the unmoving man lying face up. He wore a hot pink shirt. I nudged Sue. “Isn’t that the man you met on the Lido Deck?”

  She stared down the stairs. “I’m not sure.”

  Uniformed men maneuvered a stretcher into the area. They slid the man on it. His arms hung over the sides.

  My aunt might have spent the last hour and a half alone with him.

  Chapter 2

  “Were you just with him?” I asked Sue.

  “Hush.” She angled her head toward surrounding people who’d done like us—rushed out of the dining room after a woman out here screamed. We stared at the limp passenger down on the stretcher.