Murky Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 2) Read online

  “Yes, well, aside from that … .”

  “How did Rowan look last night?” Demarcus blathered on. “Sally said she bought a dress and was nervous about wearing it in front of you. I’ll bet she looked adorable.”

  “She looked beautiful but … .”

  “I know you were probably hoping to get some action, but you’ve got time,” Demarcus offered. “Unless … you didn’t have sex with the girl and then leave to sleep in your own bed, did you? That’s extremely tacky.”

  Quinn’s expression shifted from mildly annoyed to completely enraged. “I didn’t do that!”

  Demarcus heaved out a sigh, relieved. “Good. That would’ve been hard to recover from. I know you don’t have a lot of experience with women … er, scratch that … I know that you don’t have a lot of experience having a long-term relationship with women, but that is a serious no-no.”

  Quinn stopped walking, gripping his hands together as he glared at Demarcus’ back. By the time the other man shifted to meet his gaze, the bartender’s mischievous grin was obvious.

  “You were joking,” Quinn said after a beat.

  Demarcus bobbed his head. “I was. You need to learn to absorb a joke and laugh at yourself, man.”

  “I don’t find having sex with a woman and leaving her alone in the middle of the night particularly funny.”

  “Neither do I. That’s why making a joke about it becomes funny. Don’t you get it?”

  Quinn shook his head. “Not even remotely.”

  “You will eventually.” Demarcus clapped Quinn’s back as the man fell into step with him. “Seriously, though, how was your date? You don’t seem very excited.”

  “I was excited until I saw you,” Quinn countered, scratching his cheek. “The date was good, though. We were both nervous at the start, but we settled in pretty quickly.”

  “Did she like the restaurant?”

  Quinn smiled at the memory of Rowan inhaling her crab legs. “She liked the restaurant.”

  “Good. What did you do after?”

  “Honestly? We took a walk on the beach and talked. We were out there until almost midnight. The only reason we came back when we did is because the cops showed up on the beach about a half mile down and it kind of ruined the ambiance.”

  “Oh, I heard about that.” Demarcus appeared thoughtful as he tapped his chin. “It was on the news when I was shaving this morning.”

  Quinn managed to drag his mind away from the way Rowan looked when he dropped her off at her room – and chickened out before giving her a goodnight kiss – and fully focused on Demarcus for the first time since he found the man standing outside of his room. “What did they say?”

  “They found a body,” Demarcus replied, missing the change in Quinn’s demeanor. “It was a young woman – I think she was only twenty-five or so, if I remember right – and some night fishermen hooked her body instead of a marlin or something.”

  “Really?” Quinn arched an eyebrow. “That was lucky.”

  “I don’t think the fishermen feel the same way. Maybe they weren’t fishing for marlin. Do they have trout in saltwater?”

  “Not that.” Quinn flicked Demarcus’ ear, shaking his head as he ignored the question. “I mean that they found her. She could’ve been swept out to sea and no one would’ve been the wiser. At least this way her family will be able to put her to rest.”

  “There is that,” Demarcus acquiesced. “I was just joking about the fishermen being upset. That’s probably the most action they’ve seen in weeks.”

  “That’s an even worse joke,” Quinn pointed out. “What did the news report say? How was the woman killed?”

  “Oh, um, I can’t really remember.” Demarcus darted his eyes to the docking area as they hit the main deck. “I think the cops were still waiting for confirmation from the medical examiner but they believed it was an accidental death … something about finding a bottle of vodka on the beach next to the woman’s shoes.”

  “Oh.” Quinn turned his military mind inwards. “She probably got drunk and decided to go for a little swim, maybe got caught in the current or something. She’s lucky she didn’t run into a predator out there. Sharks stick relatively close to the shoreline in this area.”

  “Uh-huh.” Demarcus was clearly distracted, but Quinn didn’t bother to figure out why.

  “By the way, did you know Rowan is afraid of sharks? She mentioned it last night when we were talking about horror movies. I said my favorite horror movie was Jaws and she thought that was weird.”

  Demarcus finally dragged his incredulous eyes from the dock and focused on his friend. “You talked about horror movies on your first date? May I ask why?”

  “We talked about everything on our date,” Quinn corrected. “As for why … I guess because we could. Once we started talking, we didn’t stop.”

  Demarcus’ lips quirked. “It sounds like you had a magical time.”

  “We did.” Quinn kept the part about being too afraid to kiss Rowan goodnight to himself. Even though he’d let fear get the better of him, he was fairly certain he would get a chance to rectify the situation. “It was a great night.”

  “Oh, you’re so cute, you smitten kitten.” Demarcus grabbed Quinn’s cheek and gave it a good jiggle before inclining his chin toward the dock. “As much as I don’t want to be the rain cloud on your sunny day, I forgot what we were dealing with on this cruise until just now. We need to get a few things in order as soon as we’re done with breakfast.”

  “Why?” Quinn racked his brain. He’d seen the briefing from the captain the previous day. After a cursory look – and nothing to tip him off that they would be dealing with anything even remotely resembling an unruly crowd – Quinn discarded the briefing on his desk so he could focus on the date.

  “Take a look.” Demarcus’ smile was tight and grim.

  Quinn swiveled his head, widening his eyes when he saw the bevy of women flocking toward the dock. That was all he could see, for as far as his gaze would travel. Women. Big women. Small women. Blond women. Brunette women. So very many women. They were hurrying toward the dock so they could board the ship. The only thing they all had in common were pink blazers and matching briefcases. “What the … .”

  “Cara G Cosmetics,” Demarcus supplied. “It’s their annual convention. I had no idea they were arriving today. I must’ve blocked it out.”

  Quinn furrowed his brow. “Cara G. Cosmetics? That’s like Mary Kay, right?”

  “Mary Kay isn’t like Mary Kay used to be. It’s the same general principle, though. The sales representatives earn things like cars and jewelry for being top sellers. It’s a pretty cutthroat business.”

  Quinn inadvertently snorted despite Demarcus’ serious expression. “They’re women selling mascara and stuff. You make them sound like open water pirates.”

  “Just wait.”

  “Seriously?” Quinn couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “You’re scared of a bunch of makeup hawking women?”

  “Just wait.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Quinn guffawed loudly as he slapped Demarcus’ back. “Look at them. They’re wearing pink blazers, for crying out loud. Exactly how bad could they be?”

  “Just wait.”

  “WELL, THIS is very … not what I ordered.”

  Rowan kept her smile in place, her camera gripped in her hands, and met Daphne DuBois’ harsh gaze with an even one of her own.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” Rowan shifted her eyes to the specialty backdrop that had been designed specifically for Cara G Cosmetics representatives. She’d only been responsible for taking photographs at two arrivals so far, but as far as she could tell the gaudy pink backdrop seemed par for the course. “You ordered something else?”

  Daphne nodded, her perfect blond hair moving like a helmet as she did. “It’s the wrong pink.”

  Rowan widened her eyes, confused. “I … don’t understand.”

  “This is salmon pink,” Daphne supplied. “I specifical
ly ordered baby pink.”

  “There’s a difference?” Rowan didn’t consider herself an expert on the color pink, but she couldn’t figure out why Daphne was complaining.

  “Of course there’s a difference.” Daphne made a tsking sound as she lifted her briefcase and held it against the cardboard floral monstrosity. Rowan had been horrified when first laying eyes on it, but after a few minutes of contemplation she merely shrugged and started taking photographs of incoming guests. She didn’t feel it was her place to judge. Daphne clearly felt otherwise.

  “See this,” Daphne prodded. “My blazer is baby pink. This backdrop is salmon pink. They totally clash.”

  “Well … .” Rowan licked her lips. She saw no difference in the shades of pink. In fact, if it weren’t for Daphne’s hair, she was convinced the woman could be swallowed by the cardboard pink cutout and never be seen or heard from again. “They look like the same pink to me.”

  “Then you’re clearly blind,” Daphne snapped. “This won’t do at all.”

  “Well, this was what your company provided.” Rowan chose her words carefully. “The cruise liner didn’t pick out this backdrop. Cara G Cosmetics delivered this backdrop. I know. I asked.”

  “I understand that.” Daphne tugged on her blazer to keep it from bunching at her narrow waist. “I am the president of Cara G Cosmetics. This is simply not the color I signed off on when I told them to manufacture the backdrop.”

  “Oh, well … I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Daphne took Rowan by surprise when she patted her arm in a dismissive way. “You’re a minimum wage employee. You’re only doing the best you can. I understand that. I’ll take up the matter with my employees. Who knows, perhaps someone will become a former employee.”

  Rowan bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from saying something snarky. “That’s probably the best way to handle things. Do you want your photograph taken in front of it or not?”

  “Oh, well … I guess I have no choice.” Daphne flounced to a spot in front of the flowers, rested her briefcase on the floor, planted her hands on her hips, and struck a pose straight out of a Macy’s catalog. “I photograph best from the left side. Make sure you get that profile.”

  “I’m on it.” Rowan snapped a series of photographs in quick succession, making sure to look over the images on the back of the camera before sending Daphne on her way. She had a feeling if she didn’t come out with something Daphne deemed “decent” she would have to do everything a second time, and she didn’t want to spend one more minute with the woman than she had to.

  Rowan frowned when she pulled up the first photo, her heart skipping when she caught sight of the familiar symbol hanging in space over Daphne’s shoulder. She mechanically flipped through the other photos, but it was present in each one.

  “Is that it?” Daphne asked, her patience wearing thin.

  “Um … .”

  “Let me see.” Daphne jostled Rowan’s arm and took the camera, seemingly oblivious of the symbol as she scanned the photographs. “That one.” She nodded her head to make sure Rowan understood which photo she preferred. “Don’t make the mistake of picking one of the other photos. I don’t like them and I would hate to see you lose your job over picking the wrong photo.”

  Rowan’s mouth was dry, but she nodded. “Yes, I would hate that, too.” She watched Daphne move off in the direction of a small group of women, her heart thudding as she reached for her phone. Daphne Dubois was an unpleasant woman, but Rowan could hardly ignore what she saw in the camera.

  “I’ll be right with you,” she called absentmindedly to the next woman in line. “I just have to do something first.”

  “THESE WOMEN are animals,” Quinn complained for what felt like the fiftieth time in the last hour. He’d managed to extricate himself from another clingy woman with a cocktail in her hand as she tried to run her hands up and down his chest. “They’re all in heat or something.”

  Demarcus, positioned behind the deck bar, snorted as he mixed a fruity drink. “I told you.”

  “You didn’t tell me this,” Quinn countered. “You kept saying ‘just wait’ and then laughing like a loon. You didn’t tell me I was waiting for this, and if you had, I would’ve opted to hide in my room for the entire cruise.”

  “And miss out on all this fun? I’m shocked you would even consider that.” Demarcus flashed a flirty wink as an energetic woman in pink leggings scampered up to the bar. “What would you like, sugar?”

  “I want sex on the beach.”

  “Oh, honey, we all want that.”

  The woman giggled. “I want the drink Sex on the Beach,” she corrected, her eyes sliding to Quinn, giggling when she realized exactly how much she liked what she saw. “I wouldn’t mind the other type of sex on the beach with him, though.”

  “You need to get in line,” Demarcus teased, clearly enjoying Quinn’s discomfort. “I think our security chief is going to be very popular this cruise.”

  “Security chief?” The woman’s eyes flashed. “That makes him even hotter. Honey, I don’t suppose you have handcuffs, do you? If so, you can arrest me anytime.”

  Quinn forced a smile even as his stomach rolled. “Yes, well … I think I’ll manage to refrain from arresting you.”

  “Not for long because I plan on being very naughty.” The woman took her drink from Demarcus and grinned. “I just love these yearly conventions.”

  Quinn watched her scurry off, letting his forced smile drop once he was sure she was done looking back in his direction. “This is terrible. How are we supposed to put up with this for days?”

  “If it’s any consolation, they tip really well.”

  “I don’t make my living off tips.”

  “Well, then you have absolutely nothing to look forward to.” Demarcus didn’t bother hiding his impish grin. “That sucks for you, huh?”

  “You’re on my last nerve,” Quinn muttered, digging in his pocket when he heard his phone ring. His demeanor brightened considerably when he recognized Rowan’s name on the screen. “Speaking of looking forward to things … .” He slid his thumb over the screen and pressed the phone to his ear. “Good morning, sunshine. Do you miss me already?”

  Demarcus snorted at Quinn’s flirty tone. “You’re such a smooth talker. You’re going to break hundreds of hearts if you’re not careful, stud.”

  Quinn ignored him. “What’s up?”

  Rowan was timid on the other end of the phone. “I hate to bother you but … um … I need you.”

  Quinn sobered immediately. “What’s going on?”

  “I saw it again.” Rowan didn’t have to explain what she saw in the photographs. Quinn knew about her special ability, about the death omen that haunted her every move. He not only knew the truth, but he believed her, which made him almost perfect in Rowan’s eyes.

  “You saw something in your camera?” Quinn lowered his voice and took a step away from Demarcus in an attempt to keep the conversation private. “Is it the thing we talked about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in the main lobby taking photographs of the new guests,” Rowan replied. “I think I’m going to need your help.”

  “I’m on my way. Hold tight.”

  “Thank you.”

  “There’s no need to thank me,” Quinn corrected. “We’re in this together. I’ll be there just as soon as I can. It’s going to be okay.”

  Rowan could only hope that was true. If history was any indication, things were about to get a whole lot worse before they got better.

  4

  Four

  Rowan kept snapping photographs even though she was agitated while waiting for Quinn. There were five hundred Cara G Cosmetics sales representatives due to hit the ship before leaving port and they made up the bulk of the guests this go around. Rowan had her work cut out for her, but thankfully almost everyone else either ignored or didn’t notice the offending shade of
pink on the backdrop.

  Quinn found his way to the main lobby fairly quickly, his strong body and rugged good looks earning catcalls from the women waiting in line. He did his best to ignore the attention as he headed toward Rowan, but his cheeks were burning when he stopped in front of her.

  Despite the serious situation, Rowan couldn’t help but smile. “I see you’re popular with our new guests.”

  “Yes, they love me.” Quinn’s face was impassive. “They keep asking me if I want to help them rouge their cleavage, whatever that means. One asked me if I wanted to have sex on the beach while ordering a drink.”

  Rowan pursed her lips. “Ah, it must be difficult to be a sex symbol. You’re like every woman’s teenage dream. You should be on the cover of Teen Beat or something.”

  Quinn refused to crack a smile. “Did you need something, Ms. Gray.”

  Rowan stilled, put off by his chilly attitude. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just teasing.”

  Quinn’s expression softened instantly. “No, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. It’s just … .” He leaned closer so he could whisper, involuntarily shuddering when he got a whiff of her body spray. “They’re animals. You know that, right? They keep threatening to eat me alive.”

  Rowan snorted as she patted his arm, letting her fingers linger for a few extra seconds. She had no idea why she was so captivated by him today. They’d spent the entire previous evening talking and getting to know one another and yet she almost felt as if she was going through withdrawal.

  “Oh, um what was I saying?” Rowan jerked her hand back when she realized he was staring at her with an odd expression on his face.

  “You were teasing me about my heartthrob status,” Quinn reminded her. “It almost made me cry and you were debating about how you should make it up to me later when we’re alone.”

  Rowan swished her lips. “I’m fairly certain that second part was never mentioned.”

  “That doesn’t mean you weren’t thinking it.” Quinn lightly tapped her forehead and then sobered. “You called me, remember? What did you see?”

  “Oh, right.” Rowan grabbed Quinn’s arm and dragged him away from the ogling women, lowering her voice as she locked gazes with him. “There’s a woman. Her name is Daphne DuBois.” She clicked through her photographs until she found the right one. “She’s the president of Cara G Cosmetics.”