The Missing Passenger Page 2

  Gabriella smiled to herself, a pang of longing in her chest as she thought of her own husband and how he wouldn’t have hesitated to spin her around on the dance floor. He was engaged at his usual station on the bridge, wearing captain’s stripes and ensuring the safe travel of the cruise ship. They rarely enjoyed special moments together like these; it was the sacrifice they had been willing to make when undertaking a private cruise line bearing their name.

  “Is everything arranged to your satisfaction?” Roger, the maître d’, asked Gabriella.

  “Yes, everything’s perfect. Thank you,” Gabriella nodded her approval. “I rearranged the flowers on their table slightly so they could better see each other, and I added some sherry glasses. Apart from that, I was perfectly content with all your other efforts.”

  Gabriella had stopped by the restaurant to ensure all was going according to plan. Peter had contacted her earlier that afternoon to request her help in securing Pamela as a dinner-date. She’d been impressed by the old man’s slick moves and gentlemanly qualities. But she loved Pamela dearly and used Peter’s request for assistance as a further reason to hover around and ensure everything between them ran smoothly, and that Pamela was truly welcoming the attention.

  Her eyes flicked back towards Pamela and Peter swaying slowly on the dance floor, Pamela resting her hand on Peter’s chest and staring into his eyes with a delicate smile lightening her features. From the distance and in the dim, romantic lighting, Pamela looked much younger; it was clear to Gabriella that Pamela was definitely welcoming the attention.

  Gabriella decided she could leave, allowing the old couple some privacy as they enjoyed their time together, both keenly aware of how precious every moment was and how unexpectedly old age could cruelly tear life away. Yet, she halted when she noticed the joy suddenly drain from Pamela’s face when Peter started coughing. He stepped away from her and clutched at his chest for a few seconds, hacking.

  Pamela’s eyes scanned the room for the ever-nearby Gabriella, shooting her a pleading look.

  Instantly, Gabriella charged towards the dance floor with the maître d’ bustling along behind her. She was still a few feet away when she saw Peter jerk forward, doubling over as he clutched his chest. He slowly dropped to his knees, crouching on all fours as a powerful spasm ripped through his body and rendered him useless before he collapsed face-down on the dance floor.

  Pamela screamed, as did several others around her, the panic rippling through the dancers and restauranteurs as they all stared in horror at the buckled-over man sprawled on the floor.

  Gabriella and Roger carefully rolled Peter onto his back while the waiters cleared the space around him, forcing away the writhing crowd fighting to catch glimpses and snapshots.

  “Get Doctor Pattison here, immediately,” Gabriella ordered to a nearby waiter, “and Billy Harlow!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the waiter said, disappearing to sound the emergency.

  “Peter,” Gabriella called gently as her fingers searched with trepidation for a pulse.

  Peter’s eyes snapped open and briefly focused on Gabriella before closing again, his head slowly rolling to one side and his pulse weakening to the point of non-existence.

  “Is he okay, Gabi?” Pamela asked over the anxious crowd of spectators.

  Gabriella nodded to a waiter who rushed up to Pamela and gently removed her from the hovering crowd. Gabriella then took a deep breath, readying herself to do CPR as she braced her hands against Peter’s chest and began manually trying to pump oxygen into his lungs.

  Doctor Nancy Pattison swooped in and without a second to lose, took over for Gabriella, who gratefully relinquished control.

  Gabriella watched Nancy and the paramedics swiftly lift Peter onto a stretcher and charge the mobile defibrillator to deliver an electric shock in attempts to resuscitate his failing heart.

  The space in the restaurant descended into a hushed quiet, disturbed only by the rhythmic beep of the defibrillator announcing its charge. Gabriella glanced around and realized that the staff, led by Billy, had successfully cleared the area, providing Peter Newland a fraction of dignified privacy to battle for his life. Only Pamela remained, fragile, distraught, and suspended in panic at the edge of the doctor’s work perimeter.

  “I’m so sorry, Pamela,” Gabriella said, enfolding the old woman in her arms and cradling her trembling frame.

  “You don’t understand,” Pamela spoke through quivering lips. “That could have been me too. Every second of every day, us older ones are teetering on the brink of death. One minute you’re sipping champagne, and the next…” Her eyes strayed to the unmoving Peter.

  Nancy shot Gabriella a meaningful look, and in that second, Gabriella knew Peter Newland was no longer with them.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” the doctor said gravely to Pamela as a paramedic pulled a sheet over Peter’s body.

  Pamela hid her face behind Gabriella’s shoulder as she cried, her tiny frame jerking with each sob.

  “Do you know what the cause of death was?” Gabriella asked.

  “It looks like heart failure, but I can’t be certain. I’ll try to run some tests in the morgue and get back to you,” Nancy explained, her face grave with concern. “This is the first time we’ve lost someone onboard.”

  “I know.” Gabriella eased Pamela into a chair and signaled a waiter to bring her some tea. She then led the doctor a few steps away from Pamela and lowered her voice. “Did you notice anything suspicious when you gave Peter a check-up this afternoon?”

  Nancy shook her head. “He refused to allow me to do one,” she said guiltily.

  “This isn’t your fault, Nancy,” Gabriella said. “The only reason I called for you to look into him is because I noticed he looked pale and uncomfortable. He was sweating, and I was worried he might have picked up the dreaded norovirus somewhere.”

  “Peter popped a pill and a few minutes afterwards, he seemed to be fine. I tried encouraging him to step into my office, but he was so excited about planning his dinner date with the lady, I think he forgot he wasn’t feeling well.”

  “I should have made sure he paid you a visit.” Gabriella pouted sadly. “I’ll think of something to announce to the rest of the passengers.”

  “Excuse me, Gabi?” Pamela spoke up behind them.

  “Hey, how are you feeling?”

  “Oh, I’m still all shook up by this, but I just wanted to mention that he took another one of those white pills while he was on the dance floor with me, just before he dropped.”

  “It seems I underestimated how excellent your hearing still is. I’ll have the doctor look into it. Perhaps that’ll shed some light into what Mr. Newland was suffering from.”

  Pamela tilted her head and pointed to her hearing aid. “I can adapt the ‘excellency’ of my hearing as I please.”

  Gabriella grinned. “I always knew old people had selective hearing…”

  “Peter mentioned he has quite a large family,” Pamela continued, “but is only close to one person. He said it was a she, and that he hardly ever saw her. Other than that, I know nothing about where he comes from.”

  Gabriella flat-lined mentally for a second, wondering why Pamela was informing her about Peter’s family. Then she suddenly realized the awful task of notifying the family of his passing would likely fall on her. She groaned inwardly, but maintained her composure until Pamela had been escorted out the restaurant.

  “This will be terrible for business, you know,” Roger complained, suddenly filling the gap next to her.

  Gabriella delivered him a scathing look of disbelief.

  “Don’t judge me, ma’am. I know you’re thinking it too,” Roger said defensively. “We were very much one of the classier restaurants on the cruise, but everyone will think our food is literally to die for!”

  Gabriella shook her head in disgust at the little man who could joke at a time like this. Deep inside however, though she would never admit this to anyone, she also felt
more than a twinge of concern over what a death onboard would do to the rest of the passengers and to the reputation of Fischer Cruises.

  Chapter 3

  A Watery Grave

  Gabriella had just spent more than two hours comforting the distraught Pamela until she finally fell asleep. Maximus had been on edge, whining the entire time as he tried to shift his giant, furry body closer to his mistress’s, his wet nose touching her hand. Gabriella worried that the stress and trauma of watching a new acquaintance drop dead in front of her might bring on a bout of seizures for Pamela. Hence, she stationed a nurse close-by to keep watch while she slept, and to listen out for any of Maximus’s warnings.

  Gabriella wearily glanced at her wrist-watch and groaned upon seeing it was past one in the morning. The ship had been abuzz with electric rumors about a ‘murder on the dancefloor’. She’d stopped many times to put all such ridiculous notions to rest and quell the rising tide of hysteria, but she already knew Peter Newland’s death would bring far more trouble than she expected.

  She tapped gently on the door of the morgue, assuming the doctor had completed her report. The morgue was a small compartment buried in the deeper levels of the ship. It had no obvious signage, ensuring no adventurous tourist would accidently stray into the strange room. A morgue wasn’t exactly the feature one would advertise on their cruise line catalogue, but it was a necessary installment on all cruise ships, especially with the number of elderly passengers who retired at sea.

  The door buzzed open from inside and Gabriella immediately regretted not bringing her jacket when she felt the icy gale from the air conditioning.

  If Peter Newland wasn’t already dead, he would have surely died from hyperthermia by now.

  “How’s it going?” Gabriella asked, concentrating on keeping her teeth from chattering, especially since the tall doctor seemed unaffected.

  “Peter Newland likely passed away from the natural causes of old age,” Nancy explained. “I didn’t see the need to dig too deep, as the cause of death was fairly obvious. His heart was old, and I think he’d just experienced too much excitement in the last few days.”

  “So there was nothing to show that he had picked up the norovirus and suffered kidney failure, dehydration, or anything like that?”

  “No, he was clear from any contagious illness that I could test for, so there’s no need to raise the alarm onboard.”

  Relieved, Gabriella concluded that their cruise ship wouldn’t have to shut down to quarantine an uncontrollable virus. She then scoffed at herself for allowing her imagination to run away with such a highly improbable outcome. “What about the pills he was taking?” she asked.

  “Now that’s when things get strange. There are no markings on his pills showing that they aren’t pharmaceutical or manufactured by any recognized companies.” The doctor held up a clear Ziploc bag containing Peter’s pills. “Even the canister they were stored in was unmarked.”

  “That is strange,” Gabriella remarked, examining the plain white pills in the packet. “So we have no idea what he was taking, or why he needed them?”

  “I can look into it if you’d like.”

  Gabriella thought for a few seconds, her hand unconsciously twirling a strand of her hair. “No, I don’t think it’s necessary—or our business. His family can order a full autopsy if they have any concerns,” she said, swallowing her own insatiable curiosity.

  “Right. Well, here’s my report.” Nancy stifled a yawn. “It should give you enough to contact the family. Now, if there’s nothing else, I would really love to climb into my bed.”

  “Thank you for your hard work, Nancy,” Gabriella said and then yawned. “I think I’ll wait ‘til morning to contact the family. The last thing they need is a call in the middle of the night causing panic when there’s literally nothing they can do.”

  “I hope you get some sleep,” Nancy said as she opened the door for them to leave.

  “I haven’t updated Nick about all of this yet,” Gabriella explained on the walk back up the many levels. “Although I’m sure he’s fast asleep already.”

  “At least when he works the day shifts, you get to sleep next to each other,” Nancy teased.

  “Yeah, but I’m starting to really long for my husband. It’s almost as though we live past each other,” Gabriella admitted quietly. “We work, work, work, and occasionally chat over breakfast before rushing into another interminable day.”

  “That’s not healthy,” Nancy cautioned. “My husband’s job was the reason our marriage failed. I never saw him and eventually, we just had nothing to say to each other anymore. It was like living with a stranger.”

  Nancy’s words terrified Gabriella. She loved her husband more than anything and they always had plenty to talk about, but they just rarely said it all.

  “I’m not saying that your marriage will end up like mine,” Nancy continued, noticing her shorter friend’s worry. “Brian was an idiot who ended up cheating on me, but Captain Nick only has eyes for one woman—and that’s you.”

  Gabriella smiled briefly. Nick had never given her the slightest reason to doubt his loyalty, but then again, they spent so little time together, she had nothing concrete to base her judgement on. “Something has to change though,” she said, more to herself than to Nancy. “We’re heading down a dangerous path if we carry on like this. We spend more time working on this ship than we do on our marriage.”

  “What choice do you have? You both run one of the most successful private cruise lines in the industry. Our waiting list is longer than the distance we cover in one day!”

  “Now you’re exaggerating.” Gabriella laughed before her face grew serious again. “But what good is it all if we lose each other in the process?”

  They had reached a crossroads. Gabriella stopped walking and turned to face her friend. Usually, she would have these kinds of intimate conversations with Sarah, but Sarah was too preoccupied with her own new, exciting love interest. Hence, Gabriella felt a warm blanket of comfort enfold her as she related her heart’s inner plagues to Nancy—who had firsthand experience on the road of marital problems.

  “You saw how quickly life can change,” Gabriella said in a half whisper. “One minute, Peter Newland was dancing on a cruise ship heading to Hawaii, and the next, he’s laying on a steel tray in the morgue.”

  “Yes, but you’re not hitting your eighties and popping random pills to prolong a failing body,” Nancy pointed out.

  “True, but there are other unexpected things that could happen. I don’t want to be guilty of not giving enough time to the most important thing in my life.”

  “I guess we can learn something from Pamela and old Pete,” Nancy admitted. “Despite their age, they weren’t afraid to try something new—or meet someone new. I’ve put myself on the bench ever since Brian left me... I’ve just been scared to try again.”

  Gabriella gave her friend a comforting smile. “Peter and Pamela understood that time is precious and we have to make the most of what we have while we still have it. You’re too amazing person of a person to live on a dusty, old, shelf. It’s time you get yourself out there again.”

  The two women stared at each other for a few moments of shared appreciation before exchanging goodnights and going their separate ways.

  ***

  “Hi, am I speaking to a Mr. Kevin Newland, son of Peter Newland?” Gabriella asked tensely, her stomach in knots about the conversation she had tossed and turned over all night. “This is Gabriella Fischer. I regret to inform you I have unpleasant news…” She paused while the man on the other end of the line interrupted. “No,” she replied hotly, “I’m afraid this cannot wait. It’s regarding your father, Peter Newland.”

  Captain Nicolas Fischer hand-signaled his wife to place the phone on speaker.

  “Can we hurry this along then? I have an important meeting to get to,” Kevin snapped in an agitated voice.

  Gabriella raised her eyebrows but said nothing. She cleared her throa
t and proceeded with as much empathy and compassion as she could. “I’m sorry, but your father, Peter Newland, passed away last night.”

  “What? Are you sure?” Kevin said in an oddly deadpan voice. “Just get the nurse to send over the death certificate.”

  “I’m afraid you won’t be able to have the death certificate until we hit American soil again,” Gabriella said, confused by his apparent lack of concern.

  “You’re joking, right? You people are like, two hours from me. Just get it posted!”

  “That’s not possible! The best I can do is post it when we stop at Puerto Vallarta.”

  “Puerto Vallarta—as in Mexico? Are you insane? I want to talk to Manager Betty immediately. I only ever deal with her, so why is she not on the phone in the first place?”

  “Mr. Newland,” Nicolas Fischer cut in, “you are speaking to the captain of the Fischer Cruise ship. My wife has been trying to inform you that your father tragically passed away last night while onboard our cruise ship.”

  “Is this some kind of practical joke?” the indignant voice erupted on the other end of the line. “My father is safely tucked away inside a home for the elderly and incompetent in California!”

  “No, sir,” Gabriella took charge again. “Your father has been onboard our cruise ship for the last three days.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past the old idiot to escape from the home and board a cruise ship,” Kevin grumbled after a few moments of stunned silence. “I’ll contact the Sunning Hill Home and find out what the heck is going on. In the meantime, I need that death certificate as soon as possible.”

  “Surely you should be more concerned about how your father passed away than having a piece of paper? I can put you in touch with our doctor if you’d like more information,” Gabriella said crossly.

  “That won’t be necessary. All the lawyer needs is the proof-of-death and then we can proceed with his will,” Kevin answered callously, his voice monotonous as though he had grown tired of the conversation.