Brad Fogerty, a junior field operative from the Museum. I opened my mouth to say hey, but before I could ease myself out of my hiding place, I froze. Brad was here undercover, masquerading as a member of the crew. That meant he was working. And if he was working, he knew we were on board—knew it and hadn’t made contact. There were a hundred reasons another field agent might not make contact with us and none of them were good.
He passed close by me, close enough that I could read the name tag clipped to his polo. kevin c.
I held my breath until he went inside the cooler. I darted out and made my way straight back to the pool. Mary Alice was eating a croissant, large flakes scattered across her shirt like buttery confetti. Helen was nibbling at an English muffin.
Natalie had taken off her shirt and was staring down in dismay at her drooping bikini top. “I’m telling you, my tits are like two scoops of ice cream somebody has left out in the sun, just melted halfway down my chest with the cherries pointing south.” She cupped her hand under one, giving it an experimental lift. She dropped her hand and it fell back into place.
Mary Alice noticed me then and looked up. “Natalie was explaining to us the state of her tits,” she said helpfully. “How are yours, dear?”
Natalie snorted. “Either Billie’s had a procedure or that swimsuit is doing god’s work. They’re jacked up to her collarbones just like when she was eighteen.”
Helen’s grief laid on her like a fog, but she was always intuitive. She spoke up. “Something’s wrong. What is it, Billie?”
“We’ve got trouble.”
CHAPTER SIX
One of the skills we learned in training was how to shorthand a situation. I briefed them in a few sentences.
“Brad and I worked together in Nairobi,” I finished. “If he’s here, dressed as a member of the crew, he’s on a job.”
Helen nodded. “He moved into munitions after Nairobi. He’s done well there. He and I did a job in Bucharest and his work was impressive. He managed to bring down an entire wing of the embassy with minimal collateral damage to the rest of the building.”
I wasn’t surprised she remembered him. Helen made notes in a Tiffany address book in her meticulous penmanship, tiny entries for every person she’d ever met, written with a Mark Cross pencil engraved with her initials. Pencil because Helen didn’t like scratch-outs. She would carefully erase anyone who died or fell out of her orbit. No matter how many times Helen and I scrapped, I always knew she’d never be really done with me unless she erased me from her book.
Mary Alice’s reaction was succinct. “Shit.”
Natalie reached for her shirt, buttoning it over her bikini top. “It doesn’t mean he is here for one of us.”
“Jesus, Natalie, you still don’t know how to face a fact,” I said. She reared back as if I’d slapped her, and I almost apologized. But I don’t believe in saying sorry when you’re not.
“There are ninety-six other passengers on this boat and as many crew,” Natalie replied coldly. “Any one of them could be his mark.”
“Natalie is right,” Helen put in. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions until we know more.”
Mary Alice purled a few times—or whatever it is knitters do. When she reached the end of the row, she stabbed the needles into the ball of yarn and put it aside. “Alright. So we find out more. One of us will have to discreetly make contact and give him an opportunity to explain.”
“I’ll do it,” I said, reaching for my mimosa. “But if one of us is the mark, approaching him openly is as good as inviting him to take a shot. I’ll have a look around his cabin and see if I can get a handle on what he’s doing. If he shows up, I’ll give him a chance to explain.”
Mary Alice nodded thoughtfully. “You need backup. Besides, it will look less suspicious if two of us are found wandering around together. I’ll go.”
I slid my glance over to Helen. “I think I’d rather have Helen, if it’s all the same,” I said easily.
Helen looked up, startled, then took a gulp of her Bloody Mary.
“Of course.” But her knuckles were bone-white on her glass and I wondered if she was really up for it.
“I could come,” Natalie offered.
“No,” Helen said. “I’ll go.” She sounded more certain, but I noticed she finished her Bloody Mary with grim determination and poured a second one like it was her job.
But the Bloody Mary seemed to settle her down and for the rest of the day we stayed by the pool, swimming and sunning ourselves. We might have looked like carefree travelers, but we knew there was safety in numbers and without even talking about it we stuck together, even going to the bathroom in pairs. After lunch we went to our cabins to shower and rest. All of the crew were expected to work the dinner shift, so we decided that was the best time to nose around. While collecting a round of drinks, Natalie had managed to extract the location of the crew cabins from Hector, and I made a mental note of it on the map I slipped in my pocket as we headed down to dinner.