I needed to see who was on the upper deck where the helicopters landed.

Just whose voices had I heard?

After only two wrong turns, I walked up a set of stairs to find the highest point on this end of the ship. There before me sat a pool (which I was told had to be drained for emergencies), a few lounge chairs, and the elevator door with another gigantic “Emergency Use Only” sign.

No one was in the pool. Since it was exclusively for the crew, only those on a day off would use it. Not very large, the water was clear blue and deep enough to dive into. I hurried around the side to see if anyone was at the far end. The rays of the sun glistened on the water and soft music played from the speakers attached to poles near the pool.

Near a bar was a small group of people-all in white-staff.

Maybe whoever was talking in the elevator had mingled into the group. I walked closer and hoped that Topaz would not page me with a nasty “My coffee is almost done. Where the hell is my cookie?”

Rico swung around. “Hey, Pauline. How’s duty?” He sat with a nice-looking guy, mid-thirties, and maybe gay. Maybe bi. I still couldn’t believe that about Rico, but didn’t doubt Goldie’s instincts.

“It’s fine. Not busy at all. I’m on my break,” I said, as if to justify why the hell I’d be on this deck, in the sun and heat. At least that eerie fog wasn’t engulfing me now. I glanced at the radar and other equipment on the top of the ship.

All were moving now. At least the ones that were supposed to move.

Phew. One less thing to worry about.

Claude Bernard was sitting on a lounge chair near Kristina and Betty. All laughing and drinking. I couldn’t tell who was with whom but guessed they were all off duty. Even Edie and the safety officer, William Benoit, were there.

I sensed I just wasted time and a trip up there.

When I smiled and turned to go, I noticed a brown woven beach bag near Rico-with a salmon-colored shirt spilling out.

Seventeen

For a second, I wished Jagger were here to shove my chin back into place. I know my jaw had dropped open when I noticed the salmon shirt in Rico’s bag.

“You all right, Pauline?” he asked.

I could tell he’d followed my staring to his bag. “Oh, fine. I just-” My finger, as if having a damn mind of its own, pointed to the bag before I could pull the uncontrolable digit back. “Fine. Nothing wrong.”

He pulled out the shirt. “Oh this? You staring at this?”

I shook my head.

The guy next to him laughed. “What a night that was. We all partied so hard in Bermuda-” He unrolled his towel and pulled out the exact shirt.

My eyes widened.

“-we all bought the same damn shirt. As if we don’t have enough time wearing a freaking uniform.” They both laughed.

I smiled, very weakly, gave an even weaker chuckle and turned around.

Several of the crew had the same salmon-colored Bermuda tee shirt as Remy Girard.

Great. Just great. Can’t wait to share that with my buddy, FBI Tim.

Maybe I never really saw Remy.

Maybe he jumped ship in Miami.

Maybe he was onboard and kept wearing his shirt, just like the others-to get around the ship.

Maybe to commit another murder.

Mine.

Gulp. Walking as if my feet were magnets and the floor made of metal, I made it to the elevator and punched the button. When the door opened, crewmember Adam Watt, obviously off duty, came walking out, wearing his salmon Bermuda tee.

My break was over, so I had to head back to the infirmary. Luckily, Topaz hadn’t beeped me, so I know there were no passengers to treat at the moment. Even so, I ran back as fast as I could and stormed in through the glass doors.

Her head flew up. “Geez. It’s only you.”

“Sorry. I got hung up. Any problems while I was gone?”

She shook her head and looked at my empty hands. “My coffee is all gone.”

“And no freshly baked cookie. I am so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Damn. Hope she wasn’t miffed at me.

She smiled. “I’ll forgive you this time, since you make a perfect cup of Joe.”

We laughed, and I felt as if a balloon of stress had popped inside me. “Can I help you with something?”

She hesitated. “Well, since there are no patients now and you don’t have any crew physicals scheduled for this trip, sure. Come here.” She motioned to the other violet chair on her side of the reception desk.

After several minutes, I got the hang of what Topaz had instructed me to do. I was stuffing envelopes with insurance information.

There is a God and he kept his eye on me.

And good thing I made perfect Joe.

I touched my beeper camera, which I now kept in my pocket, and kept working until Topaz got up. As she headed to the powder room, I thanked the gods that coffee had diuretic effects and pulled out my beeper.

The top seven bills on my pile were for outrageous amounts. I figured most passengers didn’t complain because they had no other choice of medical treatment when out at sea. They couldn’t “shop around” for better service, as Topaz had said-that was for sure.

Then, someone working here must be sending the claims to the insurance companies, getting the money back to the New York office and keeping part of it. There had to be a contact in that headquarters’ office. I kept looking through records and files and before long…bingo.

I had the proof.

After taking pictures of the fraudulent paperwork, I heard the clatter of spike heels on the linoleum floor. Topaz was returning.

“Any problems?” She gave me what I thought was a suspicious look.

I held up my pile of envelopes. “Nope. All done here.”

“Great. It’s almost time for shift change anyway. I appreciate your help-without it I’d be staying late to finish these.”

Hmm. “Really? I would think they could wait until tomorrow.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nope. House rules. They have to be ready to be dropped in the mail at the next port of call.”

Why? “Gee. Who makes the house rules?” I asked, then chuckled to lighten the mood.

Topaz was about to speak, but from behind me a voice said, “The captain.”

I swung around to see Doc Peter. “Oh. Of course he does. He must make all the rules around here.”

Suddenly I wondered if Captain Duarte was in on the take. Was he the mastermind of the fraud, in addition to running this gigantic ship?

The doc went into the backroom and I watched Topaz gathering up her purse. “Hey, Topaz, I just wondered about that guy with the chest pain. Did he ever come back?”

“Nope.” She bent down, picked up her shoes and slipped them on. I hadn’t even noticed that she took them off when she sat at the desk. No wonder. Her feet had to be killing her.

“One thing I did notice”-We’d be docking in Bermuda soon, so I decided to give it a shot-“is that the chest pain’s bill was considerably less than those girls who collided. And less than the bills I just stuffed.”

She glared at me.

Oops. “I couldn’t help noticing.” I laughed. She didn’t. Yikes.

She shrugged-and it looked genuine. “Different treatments I guess. As I’d said, I don’t make the rules around here, Pauline, I only follow them. Like any good, dedicated employee should do.” With that Topaz turned to head toward the door with a “have a nice night” and let Kris in as she went out.

I sat for several minutes pondering all I’d learned-and her tone.

Once I’d reported off to Kris, I went back to my cabin to change for the night. I still had to meet Hunter. Damn it. When I walked in, I froze.

Betty lay sprawled on her bed, obviously napping, but also wearing her damn salmon tee shirt! Instinctively, I checked to see that her chest was moving up and down-thank goodness.