Cashed In Part 22

"Shut up!"

I looked up and down the promenade. Remember the karma thing? It still stank. Thousands of people on board and no one on this deck at this moment. What about the video camera? There wasn't even one around us to be covered. That's double bad luck.

"What will killing me accomplish? There are millions of women playing the game now. You can't kill us all."

He barked a single laugh. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to kill your game."

Twenty-five.

"I thought you'd never show," Rick said as he opened the door and ushered me in hurriedly.

"It's a long story. It has to do with Sam Hyun," I began.

An old ex-wrestler is an imposing sight. An old ex-wrestler in his bathrobe, fuzzy slippers and a mildly vacant look is a frightening sight. He frowned, his eyes growing more focused as he looked inward. "Steer clear of Sam. He has a bad temper and doesn't like women."

"I noticed," I said. "Do you think he's angry enough to kill?"

Rick shrugged. "I haven't talked to The Man in probably a couple of years. He was hating the way he saw Texas Hold 'Em changing with the Internet back then, and I can't see him reconciling himself to it now that it's a hundred times worse."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"I don't like to think one of my old friends would be homicidal, but Stan was," Rick admitted. "Of course, I don't like to think I'm losing my mind, but that seems to be happening too."

Rick pulled an oblong white pill out of his pocket and handed it to me. "At first I couldn't remember why I was supposed to save this. Then I realized as the one I took this morning started to wear off as I sat here for the last hour or so that I can't remember much that's happened over the last couple of days. I think that, more than anything, made me not take the pill. Then I reached for a gla.s.s of water and saw this." He pulled up the sleeve of his bathrobe and saw where he'd written Pill 4 B, 6:00.

"Did you remember talking to me then?"

Rick shook his head, his brow furrowed. "Not really. I wasn't sure then whether I'd decided to save it for you to check on or whether at some point I saw you and you told me." Rick paused, his eyes filling with tears. "What's happening to me? Was it the knock on the head?"

I shook mine. "I think it's the pill. I think someone has been drugging you. I'll show Ben and see if he can identify what it is. I hope the effect is only temporary."

"Me too."

"Do you remember what the person looked like who brought you the pill?"

Rick pondered that a moment, hard, then shook his head sadly, "Bee, I can't remember anything from the time the cruise security brought me back to the room. I mean, I have flashes, like a strobe light showing certain things, Delia standing over me. Watching a dolphin off the balcony. How long have I been this way?"

"Two days." I answered, reaching into my clutch and pulling out the piece of paper he'd handed Ingrid. "Do you remember this?"

He looked at it and frowned. "This is my handwriting. I gave you this?"

I nodded. "You gave to my friend to give to me."

"I don't remember." He paused. I sighed in disappointment. I knew it was important but it might remain a mystery locked in Rick's brain.

"But I can figure out what it means," he added.

"You can!"

"Tonight is August thirty-first. Cabin 4600 is where we were going to play that secret ring game-with Rawhide, Mahdu, Ferris, and three other players we didn't know. AT would be after tournament, I'm guessing."

Duh. I felt stupid. I'd heard about the ring game and completely forgot about it. "Considering most of their guest list has disappeared, I guess they'll be looking for extra players. Are you going to play?" I asked.

"Oh, sure, I think that would be great for someone with serious short-term memory loss, who can't remember from one moment to the next. I'd forget my pocket cards before I pushed in my bet."

"Can I play in your place?" I asked.

"You can try."

"No-limit 10/20?" I asked.

"Thousand," he answered.

Ouch. I stood and looked at the bedside clock. I'd been there way too long. Ingrid would have reinforcements out searching the Gambler for me. I headed for the door. "Okay, start flus.h.i.+ng your pills. Call me in the morning as soon as the guy brings your pill and describe him to me. Or better yet, call me and keep him talking so I can see him."

"I'll do my best," Rick said, making a note on his wrist. "I'm already feeling better. I can still remember you walking into the cabin. That's a good sign."

I nodded and opened the door.

"Are you going to play the ring game?"

"I'm going to try to get in."

"Knock 'em dead."

I hoped I wouldn't have to.

I decided to go up the stairs on the opposite end of the s.h.i.+p from the dining room in case Delia decided to head back to her cabin. I was looking behind me as I rounded the corner by the big tournament billboard when I ran smack into a wide chest. Hands clamped down on my shoulders.

"You are in such big trouble," Marlboro Man said, maneuvering me around, propelling me forward.

"What are you talking about?"

"I might be able to talk you out of most of the trouble if you go jump in the pool."

"You're crazy."

"See, if you're wet, we can say I pulled you out of the sea and she won't be mad at you since you'd been off getting yourself drowned. It will soften the h.e.l.luva lecture you are sure to get."

"Who is she?"

"Ingrid."

"I knew it. I knew you two had something going on. She lied to me."

"We have something going on but it's nothing what you think, so she didn't really lie. Except perhaps by omission."

"What did she omit?"

"What we've got going on."

"Which is?"

"What she is omitting."

Argh. "And that is?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Cops say that."

"I just hate those guys." Marlboro Man winked.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Someplace safe. You can't be trusted. Say you are going to the restroom and end up two decks away on the other end of the s.h.i.+p. An extremely renegade move."

It suddenly occurred to me that Marlboro Man and Ingrid could work for the cruise line-plainclothes plants who were paid to keep order on the seas. It wasn't completely logical, but I had to find out, especially since the alternative was spending the rest of the cruise locked away in a cabin somewhere being fed pills. I stopped in my tracks and screamed.

People stopped. Some stared. A few scurried away. A brave middle-aged man approached with a worried look on his face.

I had to hand it to my companion. He remained relatively unruffled, smiling at the other pa.s.sengers staring, waving off the man approaching. "What are you doing?" Marlboro Man leaned down and asked quite reasonably, which made a good case for him being with the cruise line. Except wouldn't they want to make my capture as un.o.btrusive as possible? Hmm.

"I think we need to go now, Bee."

I screamed again. Marlboro Man put his watch to his ear, nodded, patted me on the head and hurried off.

Valka, Kinkaid and Hans wheeled around the corner just as Marlboro Man reached the stairs, loping up them four at a time. Hans reached me first.

"Was that man the one who attacked you at the spa?" Hans said, speaking into his lapel as he waited for my answer, looking somehow vindicated that I finally might have proof of an attack at all.

"No," I answered, although I couldn't be sure and hated to disappoint Hans for some odd reason. He was ineffectual, but I liked him. After all, he wanted to be giving tours not packing heat. It was hard to do well in a job you hate.

"Why were you screaming then?" Valka asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I was just reenacting what happened when the bomb exploded out on the pier this morning. I must have scared him away." I shrugged.

Kinkaid and Valka both rolled their eyes and threw Hans looks that told him I was a head case. I was halfway to believing that as well.

"It's almost time for the tournament, Miss Cooley," Kinkaid informed me frostily. "Try to avoid any more reenactments before then so we can get the deal off on time."

By the time I returned to the table, everyone was angry with me. Most of the dining room had cleared out, with only about a half-dozen tables still semioccupied except for ours, which only had two empty seats. Ingrid hadn't returned.

"Really, Belinda, try to think about someone other than yourself for a change," Elva admonished. "We wanted to get front row seats for the tournament but since it took you forever to return from powdering your nose, that's out of the question!"

Dad threw me a forgiving look with just a dash of guilt thrown in for good measure.

"Where's Ingrid?" I asked.

Ben frowned which was more shocking to me than Mom's verbal spank. Ben never frowned because a) he rarely worried enough for his face to even consider the action and b) when he did have that rare moment, he resisted because frowning causes wrinkles which would ruin his natural beauty.

"Ingrid came back to the table a while ago, said you'd gotten separated and went back to look for you." He narrowed his eyes at me. Two beauty-marring actions in less than a minute. Ooo, he was mad. "What I don't get is how do two women get separated in the bathroom? It's not like you went into battle. Anyone who can negotiate the Galleria at Christmas shopping season can keep track of another person in a cruise loo. Unless one of you meant to get lost." What do you know, Ben's one forage into murder and mayhem had left him suspicious of others' actions. Those four brain cells were working overtime.

"You think Ingrid is getting tired of my company?" I asked lightly.

Mom was gathering her purse, chatting with Stella about tomorrow's agenda. Dad rose to pull out her chair as Ben walked around to me. "Ingrid wasn't the one I was talking about," he said, his tenor low. "Why did you get lost?"

"To get this," I said, pulling out the pill Rick saved for me and slipping it into Ben's hand.

His eyebrows rose. "Having trouble sleeping? Experiencing anxiety attacks?"

Well, now that he mentioned it, the whole cruise seemed like one big anxiety attack. I looked at the white pill and was tempted to down it right there.

"Bee," Ben grabbed my elbow and guided me out the double doors and onto the windy deck. "Where did you get this? From your friend Jack?"

"Why do you think I got it from Jack?"

"Because a lot of doctors use this kind of pill to treat his condition," Ben informed me.

Hmm. I really didn't think Jack had anything to do with the pill business so I didn't pursue that angle, although I did catalog it in the back of my mind for future reference.

"You can tell me the truth," Ben encouraged.

I sighed. I should be honest about the pill, but I didn't want him to tell me to b.u.t.t out of Rick's business because I thought Rick's business was Rawhide's business was Mahdu's business was Ferris' business but was most importantly my business. As we walked through the lobby, past the Internet cafe, I told him the partial truth. "Remember Rick, the guy who went missing the first night and turned up later?"

Ben nodded, leaning his elbows on the railing as he turned the pill over in his fingers.

"Well, since then someone saying he's from the s.h.i.+p doctor has been bringing this pill for him to take twice a day for his concussion."

Frowning again, even deeper (new record), Ben shook his head. "No way a doctor would prescribe this after a concussion."

"What is it?"

"A benzodiazepine, like Xanax, prescribed for serious insomnia and anxiety, hence the reason Jack Smack would benefit. However, the downside is-it causes temporary amnesia, called traveler's amnesia, antegrade amnesia or in layman's terms, short-term memory loss. New events that happen when the person is under the influence of this are not transferred to his long-term memory bank, leaving them to exist in a transient world."

I nodded. "That's consistent with the way Rick's been acting and feeling."

"This would be a DEA case. Can he recognize the person delivering the pill?"

I shook my head as Ben smacked his own with the heel of his hand. "Duh. He can't because he's under the influence of the drug. Sneaky b.a.s.t.a.r.d who's drugging him. I'd venture to guess it's not the s.h.i.+p doctor at all but the person who attacked him."

"We'll know when it's delivered tomorrow morning because Rick's not taking it anymore," I informed Ben.