Baked Alaska Read online

  She was eventually able to sit up, and a minute later, she stood, and once her brain accepted that she was officially awake and in motion, she moved toward the bathroom where she turned on the light, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. She undressed and then stepped into the shower. The water ran over her head for a solid five minutes before her brain finally remembered what had happened the night before. She straightened up so fast that she hit her head on the side of the tiny shower. She quickly washed her hair, then shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried off as quickly as she possibly could. She hadn’t gone to bed until nearly midnight; it had to be close to eight o’clock by now. Shawn and Pete might already be waiting for her in the library.

  Having not thought to bring her clothes into the bathroom with her, she wrapped herself up in a towel and opened the door slowly. She didn’t want to wake Breanna, so as soon as there was enough light in the cabin for her to see the drawers of the tiny dresser opposite the bathroom door, she moved as quickly and quietly as possible, gathering her underthings and a pair of jeans from the drawers before moving toward the closet for a shirt. A quick glance at Breanna’s bed caused her to do a double take, however.

  Breanna’s bed was empty, her pajamas wadded up near the pillow. Sadie hit the main lights, illuminating the room. Where was Breanna? What time was it? She hurried for her cell phone on the nightstand. It didn’t have reception, but it still had the time.

  “Ten fourteen!” she said aloud, then dropped the towel and proceeded to get dressed a whole lot faster. Once dressed, she returned to the bathroom and scrunched some gel into her hair. She’d spent a year transitioning from brown to salt-and-pepper gray with texturizing tones of blonde and brown throughout. It didn’t make her look as old as she’d once feared it would, and it worked well with her coloring. She usually blow-dried her hair with a large round brush to soften her natural curl into a stacked A-line bob—a more elegant style than she’d had the last few years—but there was no time for elegance today. She had to settle for curls she knew would dry as stiff as a Brillo pad.

  Her skin had tightened as it dried, so she rubbed moisturizer into her cheeks and forehead while using her feet to kick her shoes out of the closet. There wasn’t time for her full makeup regime; she was eager to get to the library and learn the answers she’d been wanting since first getting onto this ship. By the time she ran out of the cabin, slinging her bag over her head and shoulder, it was 10:28.

  The library was on deck twelve, and she had to pass the hot tubs and the chair Tanice had been in on her way. There were people soaking in the tubs, eating at the tables that flanked the windows, and lounging in the chairs.

  The library was the second door on the right once she passed through the interior doors at the forward end of the open deck. She pulled the glass door open and then stopped at the threshold, scanning the dozen or so people inside the room. Her shoulders slumped as she realized that Pete, Shawn, and Breanna were not here. She knew she was two and a half hours late, but couldn’t they have waited? Or left a note or something?

  Had she taken the time to actually look for a note in her room?

  What she wouldn’t give for cell phone reception that could put her in touch with anyone in her family in mere seconds. She blew out a breath, loudly, which earned her disapproving looks from a few of the library patrons. She didn’t know where to start looking, and after standing there for several seconds, she headed back to her cabin—the only option she could think of. She let out another exasperated breath when she found a note sitting on top of Breanna’s computer.

  Mom,

  Didn’t want to wake you. We went to the security office but will come back here if we don’t see you there.

  Love you,

  Bre

  She knew where they were, that was good, but knowing they were at security was uncomfortable. Shawn and Pete had headed there last night and still went back this morning? What did that mean? Tanice should be sober by now, right?

  Sadie hurried up the aft stairs to deck eleven while half a dozen scenarios of what Shawn was hiding—and Pete and Breanna were in on it, too!—ran through her mind. She should never have taken that pill last night.

  When she reached deck eleven, she saw the sign for security beside the starboard hall and headed toward the front of the ship, mindful that deck eleven was where she’d first seen Shawn and Tanice on Sunday—the same deck she’d walked around and around last night.

  Her steps slowed, and she walked more carefully, as though there might be a clue on the carpet somewhere that would explain everything that had happened in these hallways. Of course, finding that kind of clue rarely happened outside of Agatha Christie novels, but it was always a possibility.

  She passed a room steward who nodded at her before entering a cabin, propping the door open. It was several yards before Sadie passed the doorway leading to the forward elevators. She passed by the place where the hallway jogged right—where Tanice had disappeared on Sunday. It felt surreal to be covering the same ground after so much had happened. A door opened farther down the hall, and a woman stepped out, causing Sadie to slow down even more.

  “I know, alright? I’ll be back in an hour,” the woman said into the open doorway.

  She pulled the door shut and turned in Sadie’s direction. They both recognized each other at the same time—the woman had been in the elevator last night—and Sadie smiled politely.

  “Hi, there,” the young woman said with her cute Texan drawl.

  “Hi, again,” Sadie said.

  “Did you find your friend last night?”

  “Um, eventually, yes.”

  “Oh, good,” the woman said, showing her bright white teeth. She was a beautiful girl with large green eyes and chestnut hair that fell in big loopy curls down her back. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Sadie stepped aside so the woman could pass her. “Have a lovely day,” the girl said as they continued in opposite directions.

  “You too,” Sadie said back, then hurried farther down the hall, her thoughts centered on her son and the events of last night.

  There was a curtain at the end of the hall, and she slowed down again, then pulled it to the side when she saw the sign confirming that she had reached the security office. It fell back into place behind her, separating a twenty-foot section of hall from where the cabins had been. The carpet and wall paneling matched the rest of the deck, but the two doors—one marked “Security” and the other marked “Staff Only”—were stark white against the more colorful décor.

  The security office was a small room, utilitarian, about eight feet by twelve feet, with white walls and the same flat carpet as the rest of the ship. A desk was set in one corner and four plastic chairs were lined up against the opposite wall just past the doorway. A hallway led to the left.

  A young woman with her dark hair pulled into a bun so perfect it looked plastic was seated behind the desk. She was dressed in a maroon-colored uniform shirt and black slacks; all the staff members wore something similar, though the colors of their shirts seemed to be different depending on their position. Her name tag said her name was Hazel, from Turkey. She said hello with a Middle Eastern accent.

  “Hi,” Sadie said as she approached the desk and looked down the hallway lined with four solid white doors. Which room was Shawn in? What about Breanna and Pete? Or had they already left and she’d have to track them down all over again? “I’m looking for my son, Shawn Hoffmiller. Is he still here?”

  “Ah, yes. You must be his mother. He said you might come.” She picked up the receiver of the phone on her desk. “I’ll let the investigator know you’re here. Your daughter and husband are here as well.”

  “Thank you,” Sadie said, barely acknowledging the tenderness she felt at having Pete referred to as her husband.

  “Please have a seat.”

  Sadie sat in the chair she was waved toward and tried to focus on remaining calm. Knowing her loved ones were safe and acc
ounted for should have helped her relax, but relaxation was hard to come by. It felt as though her anxiety had been put into a soda bottle that was being shaken, and shaken, and shaken, and at any minute the lid would come off and she’d explode. She focused on her de-escalation exercises: ignoring the shaken-bottle imagery, and concentrating on breathing, counting, and thinking happy thoughts.

  A few minutes into the wait she hoped wouldn’t be a long one, the door to the waiting area opened and Sadie looked up at a young woman who, upon second glance, she identified as the other half of the photograph still in Sadie’s purse. The young woman wasn’t smiling like she’d been in the photo.

  “I have my mother’s documentation,” the woman said when she approached the desk, her voice sounding tired and flat. Her smooth black hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was dressed in gray yoga pants and a plain white T-shirt that didn’t completely camouflage her curves, though the clothing didn’t emphasize them either.

  “Very good,” Hazel said. “Have a seat. Officer Jareg is with someone just now. I will let him know you’re here.”

  Hazel picked up the phone again as the young woman turned toward the row of seats where Sadie was sitting. The woman chose the last of the four chairs, leaving an empty chair between her and Sadie. Her eyes were puffy, her face free of makeup, and the dullness of her eyes reflected the same thing her voice had already communicated—she was exhausted. Her bright pink acrylic nails seemed out of place in the solemn room.

  Shawn knew Tanice. Did he know this girl, too? Did she have the answers Sadie was desperate to know?

  When the young woman sniffled, Sadie couldn’t get her package of tissues out of her bag fast enough. She lifted the strap over her head to make it easier to dig through and to make sure she didn’t inadvertently show the photo hiding there. She wished she’d thought to leave it in her room.

  “Thank you,” the woman said, taking the proffered tissue a few seconds later and dabbing at her eyes.

  “You’re welcome,” Sadie said. She wondered how to start a conversation, but then realized that she didn’t know what had happened after she’d left deck twelve last night. Shawn was talking to security, and this girl was obviously upset. Had Tanice’s condition become worse? Could she have...died?

  Heat grew in Sadie’s chest at the thought, and she wondered how much longer she’d have to wait to talk to her son.

  “Ms. Lewish,” the receptionist said.

  “Yes?” the woman answered.

  “Officer Jareg said you can leave the papers with me if you’d like. He hates to take more of your time.”

  “I’m fine to wait,” Ms. Lewish said, smoothing the papers on her lap. “I have some questions for him too.”

  “Okay,” the receptionist said. “I’ll let him know you’re waiting.”

  The sound of a door opening and voices talking from the hallway caused both Sadie and Ms. Lewish to come to their feet, then look at one another. Sadie looked away first while she fumbled with her bag, holding it tight against her stomach.

  The sound of people approaching the waiting area drew their attention, and Sadie let out a breath when Officer Jareg and Shawn appeared from around the corner.

  “Shawn,” she said, unable to keep his name in her mouth a second longer. She took a step toward him before realizing he was looking past her at Ms. Lewish.

  Ms. Lewish also said his name, but so softly Sadie almost didn’t hear it. She was unable to read the expression on the woman’s face. Surprise, maybe?

  Shawn’s expression was definitely one of surprise—unpleasant surprise—then he looked at Sadie and an equally certain look of fear replaced his expression.

  “Do you two know one another?” Sadie asked.

  “Pete and Bre should be right behind me,” Shawn said quickly, looking over his shoulder.

  Ms. Lewish was still staring at him, though he was clearly ignoring her.

  “You’re Shawn Hoffmiller?”

  Sadie and Shawn both looked in Ms. Lewish’s direction. She was scrutinizing Shawn, looking him up and down but not out of admiration, which set Sadie’s back up a little bit. Ms. Lewish narrowed her eyes slightly, her expression tight.

  “Let’s wait out in the hall,” Shawn said. He took Sadie’s arm and pulled her toward the door.

  “Wh-whoa,” Sadie said, stumbling behind him and trying to keep from dropping her bag. “Hang on.”

  Shawn didn’t hang on. He opened the door with one hand and was in the process of pulling Sadie through it with the other when Pete and Breanna entered the tiny room, made even smaller by the seven adults now crowding it.

  “Shawn,” Sadie said in reprimand, trying to catch her bag that was sliding toward the floor, but without success. The bag hit the floor and Sadie’s tissues, nail clippers, gum, wet wipes, useless cell phone, a roll of Ziploc bags, and both pictures spilled across the security office. The picture of Pete and Shawn landed face up, but Sadie’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the other picture slide across the slick commercial carpet—face down, at least. It bounced off Pete’s foot before shooting to the right.

  She twisted her arm out of Shawn’s grip and shot him an annoyed look as she stepped over everything else in hopes of getting to the picture before anyone else did. Hazel bent down and picked up the photograph before Sadie had the chance, automatically turning it over as she stood.

  The room was silent as everyone stared at the faces smiling back from the photograph—Tanice and Ms. Lewish, both unaware of what the next thirty-six hours held for either one of them.

  Chapter 10

  "“What are you doing with that?” Ms. Lewish asked at the same time Shawn said, “Mom!”

  “Uh, I...”

  She looked from the picture to Pete, whose expression seemed to be asking why she still had the picture in her purse.

  After a few more awkward seconds, Officer Jareg took the photograph from the receptionist’s hand and took a step toward Sadie; there wasn’t room for much more than that one step, the room was packed. “This is yours?”

  “Um, well...I did buy it. Yesterday, though, before all...of...this.”

  He handed it back to her, a question in his eyes. She swallowed as she took the photo, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she glanced at Ms. Lewish, who was a few inches taller than Sadie’s five foot six. Sadie made a split-second decision and extended the photo toward Ms. Lewish.

  “Why do you have this?” Ms. Lewish asked, taking the photo from Sadie’s hands.

  “I...uh...” What could she say? Because I’m obsessing about how your mother might be connected to my son?

  “Mom, let’s go,” Shawn said. He took Sadie’s arm again and tried to pull her toward the door, but she twisted out of his grip immediately. His insistence to talk to her right now made her nervous, and she used the excuse of cleaning up the contents of her purse to stall for time. That bottle of anxiety started getting shaken up again.

  Breanna stepped around Pete and bent down to help Sadie finish cleaning things up. When Sadie looked over at her, Bre gave her a sympathetic smile, which only compounded Sadie’s fears.

  “Ms. Lewish wanted to speak to you, Officer Jareg,” Hazel said in a timid voice.

  Sadie glanced up at Ms. Lewish, who held the photograph on the top of the stack of documents she’d brought with her. Was this the first time she and Shawn had met?

  Officer Jareg turned slightly and extended his hand toward the hallway. “Ms. Lewish, if you’ll come with me.”

  Sadie returned the last item to her purse—a small first-aid kit packed into an Altoids container—and stood while putting the strap of her bag over her head so that it rested on her shoulder again. Secure. If she’d been wearing it correctly when Shawn tried to yank her from the room, the picture would never have ended up on the floor.

  Sadie felt like she owed Ms. Lewish more of an explanation, but what could she say? Pete took her arm, turned her toward the door, and walked her out of the off
ice. Shawn led the way and Breanna brought up the rear. Sadie felt surrounded.

  They all seemed to let out a collective breath once they left the office. Well, everyone but Sadie, whose tension was still rising. The narrow confines of the hallway required Pete to let go of Sadie’s arm so that the four of them could walk single file in the direction of the elevators.

  “Where should we go?” Shawn asked over his shoulder after they pushed through the curtain that separated the security office from the passenger cabins.

  “How about the card room?” Pete suggested. “It was empty this morning.”

  “There was a bridge tournament at ten,” Breanna said from the back of the line. “I saw the posting for it when we were at the library earlier.”

  “How about the Good Times Café? It doesn’t open until noon, but they only use those velvet cords to close it off,” Shawn said.

  “Good idea,” Pete said. “I’m sure—”

  Sadie stopped in the middle of the hallway, forcing Pete and Breanna to stop as well. It took Shawn a few steps to realize they weren’t behind him anymore. Sadie waited until he turned around. “How about you tell me what’s going on. Right now. Why are you acting so strange? Is Tanice okay?”

  “Who?” Shawn asked, looking confused.

  “The woman from the deck last night, the one I still know nothing about. She’s doing better, right?”

  Shawn exchanged a look with Pete or Breanna—or maybe both of them—over her head, and it made Sadie’s frustrations rise even faster.

  “They said not to talk about it,” Pete reminded her. “If we could find somewhere private—”

  Sadie shot a glare over her shoulder before looking at Shawn again. “Well, you all get a gold star for doing what they told you to do.”

  “Maybe we should just go to one of our cabins,” Pete said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  She shook off his hand as her concerns and frustration began morphing into anger. She was not a child, nor was she some delicate collectible that needed special treatment. Sadie opened her mouth to once again demand an answer when a fifth voice joined the melee.