Down Among the Dead Men

34

“ May I help you, ma’am?”

The purser was a gray-haired, distinguished-looking gentleman in a crisp white uniform. He stood behind a narrow counter, typing something into a computer.

Beth had waited five minutes to speak to him, but now that she was at the front of the line she wasn’t sure how to start without sounding melodramatic.

“I…I’m a little worried about my sister,” she said.

The purser continued typing, barely glanced up. “Is she ill? Would you like some seasick tablets?”

He started to reach under the counter, but Beth put a hand up, stopping him.

“No, it’s not that,” she said. “We went into town this morning, and…well…I guess you could say I’ve misplaced her.”

She followed this with a soft, embarrassed laugh. This whole situation had thrown her off her game and she felt more like a hapless victim than a seasoned prosecutor.

The purser frowned. “Misplaced her?”

“She’s missing.”

“And this happened on board ship or in port?”

“I just told you,” Beth said. “I lost her in Playa Azul.”

“How long ago?”

“About an hour and a half.” Beth had spent a good half of that time conducting her search of the ship, which had yielded a big fat donut. “We were having lunch and she went across the street to use the restroom. I haven’t seen her since.”

The purser shrugged. “An hour and a half isn’t long. There’s a lot to do in town.”

“You aren’t listening,” Beth said. “She went to the restroom and never came back.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation. Maybe she got distracted, saw a shop she wanted to explore, and lost track of you. It happens. She’ll turn up.”

He shifted his attention to his computer screen again, and feeling her assertiveness return, Beth reached out, blocking his view with her hand.

The purser jerked his head back in surprise and irritation.

“I just told you,” Beth said, “ my sister is missing. I think she may be in trouble. I’ve tried calling her half a dozen times, but her phone is turned off. I’ve searched every inch of this ship that’s accessible to guests and-”

“Why search the ship if she disappeared in Playa Azul?”

Beth looked at him. It was certainly a reasonable question. “I thought she might have come back here.”

“Well,” he said with another shrug, “that’s easy enough to find out.”

“How?”

“Her seafarer’s card. You remember how security scanned your card when you came back on board?”

Beth nodded. She’d been asked to push it into a slot so a ship’s security officer could check the photo they had on file to make sure she was really who she claimed to be. The photos had been taken as they boarded the ship for the first time back in Long Beach. It had seemed a bit Big Brotherish to Beth, but she understood the reasons for it. Security at the DA’s office was nearly as tight.

“If your sister came back to the ship,” the purser said, “they would’ve scanned hers as well. In which case, we’ll have a record of her return. Did you book your passage together?”

Beth nodded.

“What’s your cabin number?”

Beth told him and he keyed it into the computer, then frowned.

“I have a note here that you were involved in an incident in the dining room last night.”

Beth felt herself redden. “My sister,” she said. “She had too much to drink. It won’t happen again.”

He eyed her warily, then hit a few more keys and stared at the screen a moment.

“I’m afraid there’s no record of her return. So she must still be in town. I can contact the Mexican authorities, if you like, but I’m pretty sure they’ll agree that an hour and a half isn’t all that much time.”

Beth thought about it, and despite her concern, she still wasn’t absolutely sure Jen hadn’t disappeared by choice.

Then an idea struck her.

“She’s been hanging around with some friends of ours. Rafael and Marta Santiago. Maybe they know where she is. Do you think you could check to see if they’ve returned?”

The purser shook his head. “We have strict guest privacy rules. Have you tried calling them yourself? Or checking their cabin?”

“I’m not sure what room they’re in. We just met them last night.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re out of luck. I will, however, be happy to have security stop by their cabin and ask them if they’ve seen her.”

“Thank you,” Beth said. “I think I’ll go back into town and look around some more.”

The purser nodded. Feigned a little empathy. “Not to worry, I’m sure you’ll find her. You might check some of the bars.”

Beth knew this was a backhanded reference to last night’s embarrassment but decided to let it go. No point in creating a scene.

Besides, he was probably right.

“And don’t forget,” he continued. “The gangplank closes at five thirty. We sail at six.”

She hesitated, thinking about this, then thanked him again and went downstairs to the debarking station.

The first place she planned to hit when she got back into town was Armando’s Cantina.