CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"What happened?" Gaspar asked Code and Hannah.

"She was in the clinic, and the doctor said that she had a mild case of food poisoning," said Hannah. "I'd been near her when she first got sick, so just tried to be a friend and concerned passenger. He gave her an over-the-counter medication and told her to drink plenty of fluids."

"Then what?"

"Code was upstairs searching their room, and I signaled through comms that they were on their way back. I walked up with them, but when we got to the room, I offered to sit with her, but Al said he had it all taken care of and I should mind my own business."

"Did he threaten you?" asked Nine.

"He didn't give me any threatening words, but I damn sure wasn't going to stick around. Our cabin was two levels down, so we had no way of watching them closely except for the small camera Code placed in the hallway. Everything happened so quickly, he didn't have a listening device with him or a micro-camera.

"Around three a.m., he woke me to say that the doctor had entered the cabin again. About an hour or so later, Al was in the hallway shaking his head, appearing to be distressed. It was nearly five by that time, and Code got up on the pretense of going for a run." She turned to her husband to let him finish.

"I had to go on their floor to get to the running track, so it made it easy for me to offer assistance and be concerned with all the commotion in the hallway. I offered to help pack their bags," said Code. "He must have thought it wasn't going to stick out to me that he only had one small suitcase, and she had two massive bags. Unless he planned a very expensive shopping excursion, there wasn't enough there for a week, let alone months."

"Did he have any explanation?" asked Gaspar.

"I didn't ask, he didn't offer. What I can tell you is that he was on his phone before the Coast Guard chopper ever hovered over the ship. He didn't appear upset. He appeared rushed. I asked the doctor if he knew what had killed her, obviously concerned for our own choices in food. He said he'd never seen anything like it. He said she hadn't eaten anything in forty-eight hours, but whatever it was, it gave her stroke-like symptoms."

"That's not unheard of," said Doc, standing in the doorway. "Sometimes food poisoning can cause paralysis or speech impediment."

"True, but he said that there was no paralysis. Her heart, literally, was slowly stopping."

"He killed her," said Nine. "We all know he did, but we have to be able to prove it. When is the funeral?"

"There isn't going to be one," said Hannah. "I called to see when the arrangements were, just wanting to send flowers, and I was told that there would be none since he was the only relative. He also told me to not bother him again. It was too ‘painful.'"

"So, she's not going to be buried?" asked Gaspar.

"She was cremated within a few hours of landing. We have nothing to examine, nothing to test," said Code.

"Bastard knew someone would look. How the fuck did he get around all of that? Usually, the ship would want to know what killed a passenger on their vessel. Although, I suppose they were thrilled he wasn't making a big stink about it all. This all fucking sucks. How is our psychic doing?" asked Nine.

"We called to check on her yesterday," said Miller. "She's safe and working with her friend in Houston, who happens to be a tarot card reader. I will tell you that she said she's still feeling waves of images around the hit and run, and more specifically, the driver of the car. She still can't recall a face, but she says it's overwhelming for her." The others just nodded, unsure of what to say or do.

"And Agatha? She has to be taking all of this hard. First Gladys, now Maureen. She's not a stupid woman. We need to make sure she's not sticking her nose into things that might get her hurt," said Nine.

"Way ahead of you," said Angel. "We spoke with her yesterday as well. Needless to say, she was upset about Maureen but not shocked. I may have coerced her to take a vacation away from the home. She told them she was visiting her niece in Orange County for a while. We're footing the bill at a long-term stay motel."

"That was smart of you guys. I'm glad we got her somewhere safe because I feel certain she would have dug in or become the next victim. Jean? Do we have anything on the financials?"

"We're working on it. Their personal finances are textbook perfect. Balanced checkbooks, no insufficient funds, a few thousand in savings, none of them with more than a thousand in checking. They have their retirement funds, appropriate amounts. But I can't find any accounts other than the usual."

"And the retirement homes? What is their financial status?" asked Gaspar.

"That's a different story. They are so flush with cash you'd think they were a hotel, not a retirement community. Whether these people know it or not, they're being charged for every little thing. Each time they use the gym, a fee is added. If they need medical care, there's another fee added."

"I thought it was all included?" said Ian.

"So do the residents. They bill it as a supply fee, cleaning fee, sterilizing fee, you name it fee. It's all a bunch of bullshit, but the residents aren't arguing, probably because they love where they are."

"What the fuck? Are they drinking some sort of happy juice?" frowned Ghost.

"It's a good question, really it is," said Jean. "These aren't stupid people. They're former business owners, CEOs, teachers, you name it."

"Okay, I'll name what you didn't. You didn't list any doctors, lawyers, or nurses," said Ian.

"Give the man a cupcake. There are none. Not one. There are a few veterans, but they have a lot of health issues for the most part."

"Damn. They've been pretty fucking selective, haven't they?"

"We have an idea," said Julia and Noah, standing in the doorway. Behind them stood U-Jin, Erica's brother. The men all stared at them, then at one another.

"Well, this should be interesting."