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"What?"
"In his heart? Bob is a really sweet man; I mean he's a p.u.s.s.ycat. He's generous, he's smart. There are so many good things about him. He's a true visionary in so many ways. He can be so thoughtful and on and on the list goes. He just has this one fatal flaw."
"Which is?"
"He doesn't understand love, with the exception of the affection he feels for Gladdie."
"Well, you've known him long enough to know how he ticks. Do you think it's too early for a beer? The combination of warm weather and salt water makes me crave beer."
Olivia looked at her watch. It was after eleven-thirty.
"We're on vacation. I'll go get you one. You just stay right there."
"Thanks, my love. I'm too tired to get up."
"Me too. Too much excitement."
Olivia felt so good then, luxuriating in the warmth of the sun. In that moment she felt she could've lived out the rest of her days in that very deck chair, but her own heart ached with Maritza's pain. She prayed Maritza was safe and that she would return or be returned as soon as humanly possible. Olivia got up to find a crew member and ask for a beer for Bob.
By lunchtime there was still no sign of Maritza. They all gathered at the table hoping Bob had some news to share, except for Gladdie and Ellen, who was cleverly avoiding Colette.
"Okay, folks. Here's the latest. I found her cell phone and her pa.s.sport," Bob said in a somber voice.
"Oh G.o.d! Bob! No!" Olivia burst into tears.
"This is not good news," Nick said and handed Olivia his handkerchief with a compa.s.sionate look that said Compose yourself.
"Who leaves home without their pa.s.sport and cell phone?" Mich.e.l.le said. "Right?"
"Right," Buddy said.
"What does that mean?" Dorothy said.
"Well, it greatly lessens the likelihood that she left voluntarily or that she planned to leave," Sam said.
"Hey, Bob?" Buddy said.
"Yeah, I know. It's time to call the police."
Olivia felt ill and she looked up to see Betty's face. Betty was completely aghast and gripping Ernest's arm so firmly he was grimacing in pain. Dorothy was baffled. Mich.e.l.le poured herself and Dorothy a large gla.s.s of wine. Mich.e.l.le looked bewildered, which would explain her uncustomary hospitality toward Dorothy. To no one's surprise, Colette was amused.
"I just asked Jack to call them. But let's eat quickly, because once the police get here, we're not going to have a moment's peace for who knows how long?"
"What's going to happen?" Ernest said.
"We're probably going to file a missing persons report and ask the police to help us find her," Bob said. "They're probably going to search the s.h.i.+p looking for clues. I can't get into the vault to see if anything's missing because Maritza changed the code and I don't know the new one. So I asked Jack to get one of the guys to drill it open, but Jack said, and he's probably right, we should wait and do that with the police present."
"Absolutely! This could be an active crime scene for all we know!" Colette said. "Watch your fingerprints, ladies!"
Colette laughed. Everyone, even Dorothy, was shocked by her callousness.
Within the hour there were a dozen or more Spanish policemen on the Le Bateau de l'Amour. Most of them had never been on such a glamorous s.h.i.+p, and they could barely contain their awe. A few policemen even snapped selfies with their phones. Bob was in the main living room with the head police officer answering questions.
Olivia and Nick discreetly watched them from the table on deck through the gla.s.s doors and windows. After about thirty minutes Bob, Jack, and two officers went with a technician from the engine room and drilled open the vault.
"The vault's empty," Bob said to the group, who had all remained at the dining table drinking coffee and iced tea. "All of her jewelry is gone."
"Oh, dear heavenly Father! Do you think . . . ?" Ernest said. He couldn't bring himself to say the words.
But that's why Colette was there-to say the unsayable.
"Robbed and kidnapped?" Colette said. "Looks like it."
"Sweet Jesus, Colette, you'd just love that, wouldn't you?" Bob said. "You are so easy to dislike."
Everyone drew in a collective gasp. It was the first time Bob had really taken Colette on.
"Maybe, but it's a distinct possibility, isn't it?" Colette said with a completely unflappable att.i.tude.
"Just shut up, Colette. So the police want to interview everyone," Bob said. "And Colette, I'd strongly advise you to be extremely civil and courteous. Spanish jails are notoriously dark and dank."
Colette c.o.c.ked her head to one side and gave Bob the evil eye.
"I can't stand to think of Maritza in a dangerous situation like that," Olivia said.
"Well, what else is there to think?" Dorothy said.
"Who wants to go first?" Bob said.
Betty and Ernest jumped to their feet.
"I stand ready to clear my good name!" Ernest said.
"This is a terrible business," Betty said. "I'll be glad to sleep in my own bed again."
Olivia and Nick shared a psychic moment in each other's eyes. For as terrible as the situation was, Betty and Ernest were the only ones keeping it real.
The police left before dark after all the questioning of the captain, crew, and pa.s.sengers. Jack vouched for his crew in a sworn affidavit. The police took some DNA samples from Maritza's hairbrush, razor, and toothbrush and asked everyone to remain in the vicinity for the following seventy-two hours or until they were notified. They took the names of the musicians and the photographer from the wedding and said they would be brought in immediately for interrogation. And the highest-ranking police officer, who spoke English, promised Bob he would stay in touch, and if he learned something of value, he would contact him right away. Bob promised the same.
In the evening, things were very quiet. Out of respect for Bob and Maritza, the partying was over. Even Colette retracted her talons. After a simple dinner of roasted fish, everyone began to drift back to their cabins to let Bob have the deck to himself. He seemed to be very unhappy. He should be, Olivia thought.
Olivia and Nick remained there at the table with him. He seemed to want to talk.
"I just don't understand it," Bob said. "How could she slip through my fingers like this? The police officer said that if it was a kidnapping, we'd probably be contacted soon about ransom. Ransom! I just pray to G.o.d that whoever has her doesn't hurt her. I couldn't stand it."
"Look, Bob, maybe there's another explanation," Olivia said, hoping there was one.
"Yeah, she might've jumped, but I don't think so because of the robbery. I haven't been the ideal husband. I mean, you know that. I've made my life so complicated. But I do care about her. A lot."
"We know you care, Bob. Maritza is a sweetheart," Olivia said. "She's the kindest woman you ever married."
"Yes," Bob said.
"Maybe the robbery and Maritza's disappearance are unrelated," Nick said.
"That would be too coincidental," Bob said. "I just feel like this is my fault! I wish I knew what to do. I feel so awful! You know, Maritza would cook for me. I never had a wife who could cook. She makes me a cake on my birthday. No one ever made me a cake besides my own mother. She sewed b.u.t.tons back on my s.h.i.+rts for me. She just did all these wonderful things for me. Sounds silly, I guess."
"The woman really loves you, Bob. The most precious gift someone can give you is their heart," Nick said.
"Yes, I can see now that it is. And I blew it. I made so light of her affection that either she jumped or she let herself get into a precarious situation that led her into grave danger. And I failed to protect her. This is my fault. I'd give anything I own to see her face right now."
CHAPTER 14.
Bob's Side
It was Sat.u.r.day, the Fourth of July, right before eight in the morning, when the police boat pulled up beside Le Bateau de l'Amour. Captain Jack hurried down to meet it and he sent one of the crew to find Bob. Bob was on the treadmill and quickly got off, grabbed a towel to wipe away his sweat, and hurried to the main deck, taking the steps instead of the elevator.
"Good morning, Officer!" Bob said, shaking his hand. "Would you like coffee?"
It was the same policeman Bob had spent time with the day before.
"Gracias. Thank you. Coffee would be muy bueno."
Bob nodded to a crew member, who would have the coffee order out in a flash.
"Please. Come and sit. Tell me what you have learned."
"Gracias, thank you. Well, we have something, pero it's not much and it may turn out to be nothing, but it is something to start with."
"Tell me. Please."
"S, s. As soon as I returned to la estacin yesterday, I called the musicians and the photographer. The musicians, all three of them, came down to the station right away. They were shocked and surprised to hear this terrible news. And they said, and all of them were questioned separately, that they had never had trouble in their lives beyond traffic violations. We checked, and es verdad. These are all honest men who have never been arrested for anything. Nada."
"That's it?"
The coffee arrived and was placed before them. Bob watched as the police officer put four sugars in his cup and stirred.
"No, there is una cosa ms. So we said we would like to let our forensics team search their boat and they said it was no problem for them. Absolutely no problemo. And so we went down to the marina and my team went over their boat with a fine-tooth comb. That's the expression, s? Fine-tooth comb?"
"Yes." This b.a.s.t.a.r.d is sure taking his sweet time getting to the point, Bob thought. "And?"
"And? There were some long blond hairs in the bow, under a tarp where they keep the life preservers and oars. I can't tell you that they match your wife's DNA until they come back from the lab."
"You think my wife was on their boat?"
"No se. I do not know yet. But the s.p.a.ce was big enough for a small woman to crawl in and conceal herself."
Bob's mind was spinning.
"And the photographer?"
"I know the photographer. He is my wife's fourth cousin and he's an idiot. Muy estpida. Ibiza is a small island, really. Families have been marrying each other for centuries. He is a bad result of a small gene pool. Anyway, when I put two and two together, I knew it could not be possible that it was him. He is not worth the telephone call." The police officer finished his cup of coffee and smiled.
"Do me a favor," Bob said. "Humor me. Call the idiot. Maybe he saw something."
"Of course. I will do it then. Well, that's it for now."
"How long will it take to get the DNA information?" Bob asked, wondering how many other things there were that the police would not think was worthy of the follow-up time.
"We should know by Monday. Oh, and Mr. Vasile, we have been policing the sh.o.r.es of all the Balearic Islands and nothing, gracias a Dios, has washed up of any consequence."
Bob swallowed hard and stood up from the table. "Thank you, sir, and thank you for coming to tell me this in person."
"De nada. You're welcome. I will be in touch. And you're certain that there was not another man in her life?"
"Not a chance. Maritza adores me."
"I see. You know, Senor Vasile, women leave their husbands every day. They get, well, I'm sure you know how women can get."
"Better than most men do, I think. Yes, women walk away from their families every day but not like this," Bob said. "They don't disappear into thin air in a foreign country without taking their cell phone and pa.s.sport unless something very bad has happened. And there's the better part of a million dollars worth of jewelry gone too. If she was leaving me, I would've heard from a lawyer by now."
"A million dollars? What? Senor Vasile! You did not tell me her jewelry was worth so much! I have to turn this over to the FBI! Or maybe I misunderstood!"
"That is an excellent idea," Bob said. "Please do it right away!"
"S, s. Yes. I think you're right." They shook hands. "Lo siento mucho. I'm very sorry."
This police officer is such a dummy, it's unbelievable.
The main deck filled up quickly with crew who had been behind the scenes waiting for the police officer to leave. They began setting up the breakfast buffet in one well-orchestrated swoop.
Ellen and Gladdie were having breakfast in their room, as Ellen was still seething over Colette's insults, or what she perceived to be Colette's insults. Bob had tried to explain to Ellen that technically, Colette was right. However it wasn't Colette's place to correct Ellen because Colette did not sign her paycheck, but she was correct in that it wasn't Ellen's place to voice her displeasure over her employer's guest list. Perhaps, Bob suggested as diplomatically as he could, she should not make her feelings or the nature of their personal relations.h.i.+p so obvious. This infuriated Ellen to new heights because she saw it as rejection from Bob, and it pushed her another rung down the ladder, further away from her goal. So the last twenty-four hours had taken a painful toll on her affair with Bob, and as a result Ellen and Bob were barely speaking.
Frankly, Bob felt a measure of relief, given the real-life disaster he had on his hands.