Читать книгу Perilous Waters - Sandra Orchard - Страница 13
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“What’s wrong with her?” Cass screamed.
Sam eased Jen gently to the elevator floor so he could check her airway, breathing and circulation. The ABCs of his first responder course spiraled through his mind like a CD on replay. “Jake, help me.” He was the firefighter. He knew what to do. Jake knelt beside him, Tommy clinging to his neck.
The elevator doors opened.
“Gran—” Tommy squealed and lunged for his grandparents, who were standing at the door waiting to board.
Sam’s mom quickly overcame her surprise at the sight of the slumped woman and wrapped Tommy in her arms.
“We’ve got to get this woman to sick bay,” Jake said. “We’ll meet you at the buffet when we can or back at the room.”
“What deck is sick bay?” Sam asked the ship employee standing in front of the elevator panel.
“Oh, uh, Deck Five, Plaza,” he said in a thick Eastern European accent.
“Well, hit it, will you?”
The man did as he was told, but the elevator stopped at the next deck down. “Excuse me. I get off here.”
Cass lunged at the control panel and slapped the five again. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Her respiration is good. Pulse is rapid,” Jake said. “Does she have any medical conditions or allergies?”
“No, not that I know of.”
The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor and Sam swept Jen into his arms. She was impossibly light, as if a strong nor’easter could sweep her off the deck. His chest crunched at the unwelcome image.
“Which way to sick bay?” he asked the startled passengers waiting to board the elevator.
“Deck Four—Gala, one down—turn left,” a woman spoke up.
Cass slapped the 4 button. “How could a ship employee not know where sick bay is? He told us five.”
A few seconds later the doors pulled open again, and Sam charged left with Jen in his arms, Cassandra and Jake following.
A middle-aged woman in green scrubs directed him to lay her down on a bed, then she immediately checked Jen’s vitals as they relayed what they knew.
The nurse pulled on reading glasses and jotted down Jen’s blood pressure reading. “What has she had to eat or drink in the past three hours?”
Cassandra perched on a chair beside the bed and clutched Jen’s hand. “Nothing that I know of.” Black tears streamed down her cheeks. “We were on our way to supper.”
“She had a glass of something a bit ago,” Sam interjected. “I didn’t see what.”
The nurse eyed him suspiciously as she felt Jen’s glands. Not that he blamed her. He was kicking himself for not intervening when he saw that waiter press a drink on Jen that she didn’t seem to want.
The nurse’s expression changed. She swept back Jen’s hair and pulled off the seasickness patch. “Not sure if this is a contributing factor to her blacking out. But we’ve seen a number of negative reactions to these.”
Cass gasped. “Is she going to be okay?”
The nurse patted Cass’s shoulder. “Her respiration is a bit slow, but her vitals are good. We’ll continue to monitor her until she comes to, unless you’d prefer we evacuate her to a hospital immediately.”
“Do you think we should?”
“The doctor will be here shortly. Let’s wait to see what he thinks.”
“But that’s what you think it is?” Sam asked. “Just the seasickness patch?”
“Did she take any recreational drugs? Alcohol?” The nurse’s gaze narrowed in on Cass. “It’s important you tell me everything so we can provide the best care to... This is your sister, right?”
“Yes. She doesn’t do drugs.” Fresh tears streamed down Cass’s cheeks. “Or drink.” Cass swiped at her damp face. “This is all my fault. She didn’t even want to come on the cruise.”
Jake rubbed Cass’s back. “It’s not your fault. She’s going to be okay.”
The nurse turned her attention to Sam. “You said she had a drink. What was it? Did she leave it unattended?”
“Can we speak outside a minute?” He cupped her elbow and steered her firmly out of the room. Once the door was closed he asked, “You think someone put a roofie in her drink?”
The nurse looked at him over the rim of her glasses. “And how do you know about Rohypnol?”
“C’mon, you just went through the list of what every woman shouldn’t do if she doesn’t want her drink spiked with a date rape drug.”
Jake appeared at the doorway, listening in.
The nurse shrugged. “I can’t verify it without a urine sample.”
“But the symptoms fit?” His heart went back to racing a mile a minute. “Even if she only had the drink ten minutes before she passed out?” Sam knew why the nurse was being cagey. She wasn’t at liberty to discuss a person’s medical condition with a nonrelative. But if he was going to catch whoever did this to Jen, he needed answers.
The nurse perched her reading glasses on her head. “Depending on the dose, roofies can take effect within minutes. Symptoms typically peak at two hours.”
“How long before she wakes up?”
The nurse hesitated.
“How long is a patient typically out?” he rephrased impatiently.
“A few hours, at least.” She glanced toward a couple of other occupied rooms and lowered her voice. “If you think she ingested the stuff less than an hour ago, the doctor will give her activated charcoal. It’ll soak up the drug from her stomach and intestinal tract.”
Sam inhaled. “And if I’m wrong?”
“If it’s been longer than an hour since ingestion, or we’re wrong about the substance, it’ll be pretty useless, but it won’t hurt.”
“Good. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can track down the source.” He turned to Jake, still standing at the door to Jen’s room. “You mind staying with them?”
“No problem. You go on.”
Sam raced up the three flights to the lounge where Jen was given the drink. A balding, forty-something Caucasian man staffed the bar. The waitstaff was all female.
Sam stepped up to the bar.
“What can I get you?” the barkeep asked.
“I’m looking for the waiter who served the customers by the windows about forty-five minutes ago. Do you know where I can find him?”
“Him?” The bartender frowned and went back to polishing the glasses lining the bar. “Not sure who that’d be. My staff tonight are all women.” His bar phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, reaching for the phone.
Great. So someone impersonating a waiter brought her a drink. That made the elimination process a whole lot tougher. He hadn’t gotten a look at the guy’s face, and Jen wasn’t going to be in any condition to look at passenger photos any time soon.
Sam pictured the man he’d glimpsed from behind. As soon as the bartender finished his call, Sam said, “The guy I’m looking for was about five-ten, short dark hair, wore a black-and-white waitstaff uniform. Did a guy fitting the description order a soft drink from you?”
“You with the woman in sick bay?”
How’d he—? The phone call. The nurse must’ve notified security already. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry. No men dressed like that ordered a drink from me.” He waved over a waitress. “Hey, did a waiter-looking guy order a drink from you?”
“No, I would’ve remembered that.” The woman laid her empty tray on the bar, along with an electronic cruise-card reader.
Although food was included in the cruise price, drinks weren’t, which meant that if a passenger bought Kate the drink, his card would’ve been swiped. “Hey, can you get security back on the phone and ask them to look up everyone who paid for a soft drink—” Sam glanced at his watch “—between four and four-thirty? If they can line up the customers’ photos, my friend should be able to identify the guy.” And Sam wouldn’t have to reveal he was FBI or that his interest in finding the guy went beyond a drugged drink.
“Sure thing. They’ll be all over it.”
Sam scratched his arm, his finger catching on a fine gold chain that was snagged on his sleeve. He carefully freed it, and a tiny cross slipped into his palm. Jen’s. He stroked his thumb over the delicate etching, recalling how fragile she’d felt in his arms.
He clapped his hand closed and shoved the pendant into his pocket. “Jezebel” had pretended to believe in God to wile her way into his confidence. Wearing a cross didn’t mean anything.
What he needed to know was who would want to knock Miss Robbins out? And why? And did the reason have anything to do with his investigation?
He needed to talk to her sister. He rode the elevator up to the Lido deck to grab some pizza slices for everyone first, then headed back to sick bay.
Outside Jen’s room, Sam got an update on her condition The doctor felt certain she’d been drugged, but would be fine, and her sister had opted not to have her transported off the ship.
“Anything?” Jake asked as Sam rounded the corner.
Sam shook his head. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if Jen could’ve been slipped the drug earlier because from what he’d seen, she’d only sipped whatever the waiter had brought her, and there’d been less than twenty minutes for it to take effect. Rohypnol was fast-acting, but...
He offered Cassandra a pizza slice. “I know the nurse asked you this before, but are you sure your sister didn’t eat or drink anything else? Maybe stop for a coffee before you boarded? Take any medicine?”
“I don’t know. We met at the pier and came straight aboard.” Cassandra had wiped the mascara streaks from her face, but she still looked as if she’d gone through an emotional ringer. “There was a fruit and chocolate basket waiting for us in our room. She might have taken something from it.”
“Do you mind if we go check?” He motioned to her plate. “After you’ve eaten. Knowing what your sister ate or drank might help the doctor speed her recovery.”
Cassandra ate faster and asked Jake to stay with Jen in case she woke while they were gone.
Sam leaned over the bed and brushed a wisp of hair from Jen’s cheek. She looked like Sleeping Beauty lying there, waiting for a handsome prince to awaken her with a kiss. His stomach fluttered at the thought and he quickly straightened. His hand knocked a crumpled paper on the bed. The note from the gallery curator?
Sam palmed the paper, stepped away from the bed and shoved his hand into his pocket. Taking a chair behind Cassandra’s line of sight, he glanced at the paper. A phone number. Seattle area code with the name Watson. He pulled up the internet on his cell phone and looked it up. John Watson, private detective.
Why was his suspect calling a PI?
Too soon, Cassandra was ready to head up to her room. He feigned surprise when her room turned out to be next to his—an arrangement that had cost the bureau an extra three hundred bucks. Their carry-on luggage lay open on the bed. Their larger bags hadn’t yet been delivered. Cassandra pointed to a large basket on the desk next to the balcony’s sliding glass door. The plastic wrap and ribbons lay open beneath it. “Looks like Jen got into it, but—” Cassandra sifted through the contents “—I’m not sure what she had. The water bottles are missing, but she probably put them in the fridge.”
Cass checked the small bar fridge in the opposite corner. “Yeah, there’s only the two bottles that our steward left here and one from the basket.”
Sam lifted an empty bottle from the trash can under the desk. “A raspberry-flavored water.”
“She always drinks the raspberry. I hate it. Tastes too much like medicine.”
“Who sent you the basket?”
“Oh.” Cass flushed, apparently cluing in to the implication of his question. “Uh, Uncle Reg.”
“And what flavor did your uncle include for you?”
“Blueberry.”
Sam dropped the empty bottle into a plastic bag sitting on the desk, along with the unopened bottle.
Cass gave him a curious look. “What are you going to do with those?”
“Show the ingredients to the nurse.” He had no means of testing it on the ship, but at the first port he could have it couriered to their Anchorage office or, better yet, he could send it back to Seattle with the pilot directing the ship out of the Sound. He glanced at his watch. He probably had time to catch him. “Could you collect any medicines Jennifer might have taken?”
“You think there might have been some weird interaction?”
“It’s a possibility.” He examined the fruit and chocolate in the basket for signs of tampering.
“I had that happen to me once. Broke out in hives whenever I ate a banana within a couple of hours of my multivitamin.” She dug through the night table drawer next to the bed and pulled out a box containing seasickness patches and a bottle of ibuprofen. “Switched vitamins and never got them again.” She dumped her find into his bag.
“Do you mind if I check the bathroom?”
“Go ahead. She’s particular about her moisturizers and shampoo and stuff. All scent-free. I don’t think any of that would have reacted.”
The bathroom barely had enough space to turn around in, let alone enough counter space to sort through her makeup bag. He carried it out and dumped the contents on the bed. Toothpaste, lip gloss, an assortment of lotions. Sam returned the contents to the bag. Any of the products could have been injected with a substance that soaked through the skin, but it was improbable. And she would not be happy if he unnecessarily confiscated them all.
The water was a likely source, but what motive would her uncle have for making her temporarily incapacitated at an unpredictable time of day or night? Sam picked up the small card lying next to the basket on the desk. It wasn’t signed. “How do you know the basket was from your uncle?”
Cass stood by the balcony door, looking out, and jumped at his question. “Uh, it said so on the card.”
“No, it didn’t.” It merely said “Bon Voyage.” He angled it her way.
She stared at it dumbly. “You’re right.” She sounded surprised. “I guess we just assumed since he gave us the cruise as a birthday gift. Who else would?”
“Either of you have a boyfriend?”
“I have lots of guy friends.” Cass’s cheeks reddened. “But I told your brother. Just so you know, I’m not leading him on or anything.”
“Okay.” Explained a lot. No wonder Jake had been enjoying her company so much—no strings. “Could any of your guy friends have sent this?”
She shrugged. “Maybe Uncle Reggie’s son. Reg isn’t really my uncle, of course.”
Uncle or not, the idea that their long-time guardian would slip a roofie into Jen’s drink was downright disturbing. “Let’s get back to your sister. You might want to grab a sweater and a book. Could be a long night.”
Sam escorted Cass back to sick bay, and Jake slipped out of the room as she took his seat next to Jen. “Find anything?”
“Maybe.” Sam drew Jake deeper into the empty waiting room and lowered his voice. “I’m going to see if I can send these back to Seattle with the pilot. Have them tested. Do you mind hanging around a while longer and keeping an eye on Cass and Jen?”
“Do you know why someone would do this to Jennifer?”
“No.” Sam felt in his pocket for the PI’s phone number, hoping it might offer some answers.
Jake narrowed his eyes. No doubt rethinking Sam’s lame excuse for identifying himself as Sam Tate to the women the other night.
“I don’t.” Sam insisted. “Believe me. I wish I did.”
* * *
Jennifer squeezed her eyes against the light seeping past her lashes. Her head felt ready to explode. And the bed...
Why was it rocking from side to side like a...boat!
She lurched up. “We’re moving!” She clutched her head and dropped back to the mattress, rolled onto her side and curled her legs into her chest.
“Jen, what’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” Cass’s worried voice sounded above her ear.
“My head hurts,” Jen moaned, trying to remember what she’d wanted to do before they left port. She massaged her fingers over her forehead, straining to coax out the memory, but she couldn’t make sense of anything. Faces swam through her mind—Sam’s, his sweet nephew’s, a waiter’s?
“Can you remember anything?”
Jen slit open an eye. “Where am I?” Why did her mouth taste so acidic?
“Sick bay. You passed out in the elevator when we were heading up for dinner. Sam carried you here.”
Sam? This was the second time something bad had happened when he was nearby.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” another female voice said.
Jen tilted her head to see who belonged to the voice—a woman in green scrubs. “Are you a doctor?”
“Nurse.” She plugged a stethoscope into her ears and pressed the other end to Jen’s chest. “We believe you were drugged.”
Her heart lurched. “Drugged? How?”
The nurse placed two fingers at the pulse point on Jen’s wrist and turned her attention to her watch. “That’s what your friend’s been trying to figure out.”
“Sam,” Cass filled in.
After another ten seconds or so, the nurse dropped Jen’s wrist and recorded something on her chart. “You had a drink not long before you blacked out. Do you remember?”
Jen clutched her head tighter. “I knew I shouldn’t have accepted it. I had this feeling. But the waiter said it was complimentary, and everyone seemed to have one.”
The nurse rubbed Jen’s shoulder consolingly. “Well, we’ve given you charcoal to absorb whatever might have been in the drink, and notified the ship’s security. One of the officers will be here soon to talk to you.”
“Does she need to stay here?” Cass asked.
“I’d like to continue to monitor her vitals through the night. If nothing changes, she can go back to her room in the morning.” The nurse patted Jen’s arm. “But I’m afraid you’ll likely have a lingering headache for a few days.” She paused at the door. “Your fellow’s out here pacing the hall, anxious to see you. Shall I let him back in?”
Unable to comprehend what the nurse meant, Jen flashed Cass a questioning look.
“She means Sam.” Cass grinned. “He’s really worried about you.”
Something warm and soft filled Jen’s chest at her sister’s words. “Let me freshen up first.” She sat up and the pain in her head exploded. As Cass helped her to her feet, Jen swayed, taking Cass sideways across the room in a zigzag toward the washroom.
“I’m so sorry,” her sister whispered.
Jen stiffened, trying to make sense of the apology through her pain-filled fog.
“Here I talked you into coming on this cruise,” Cass went on, “saying you’d be safer, and look what happened.”
“This isn’t your fault,” Jen assured, except...who was to blame? Her limbs began to tremble. “Why would someone do this to me?”
“Some men are just sick.” Cass waited for her to do her business then helped her back into bed and cracked open the room door. “You need to be on your guard.”
Shivering, Jen closed her hand over the cut she’d gotten after that creep stabbed the note to her car. The police hadn’t been able to prove it was Lester. Some stalker might’ve followed her onto the ship. “Do you think this is connected to the note in my car?”
“Do you?” Sam asked from the doorway.
The concerned timbre of his voice rumbled through her chest. Gripping the edge of the sheets, she pressed her arms against her rampaging heart. “I don’t know. I don’t know why anyone would do this to me.” She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Sam hovered over her bed, deep grooves slashing his forehead. At the tender look in his eyes, her stomach cartwheeled. “Why...why do you care so much?”
He straightened abruptly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Strangely, his sudden retreat endeared him to her more. Most guys would be quick to take advantage of her vulnerability.
“Sam talked to security about your previous attack so they’d check the passenger manifest,” Cass said. “That Lester guy isn’t on the ship. I think you just got targeted by some creep for no other reason than he’s a creep.”
Jen couldn’t pull her gaze from Sam’s. “Is that what you think?”
His brow creased with sympathy. “It happens. Can you remember anything that might help us figure out who did this?
“The waiter had an Eastern European accent.”
Cass sprang to her feet. “Like the waiter in the elevator?”
Jen squeezed her eyes shut, trying to dig up the memory. She shook her head. “I don’t remember being in an elevator.”
“It’s okay,” Sam soothed. “But in case this wasn’t a random act, or the guy fears you’ll identify him, it’d be better if you don’t go anywhere alone.”
“Are you volunteering to be her bodyguard?”
“Cass!” Jen gasped at her sister’s brazenness.
Sam chuckled. “I’d be happy to escort you any time.” The light dancing in his eyes reeled Jen in and spun her in dizzying pirouettes, leaving her breathless. She pressed her palm to her head. That drug had to be seriously affecting her brain. She did not let herself get swept up by guys she scarcely knew. Not anymore.
That was Cassie’s department.
