In “Diamond on the High Seas,” a shipboard murder mystery amid a whole lot of dancing

Author’s note: “Diamond on the High Seas” features two protagonists, Hope Diamond, founder and head of Diamond Security, and FBI Special Agent Matthew Dennison. Hope is in the business of protecting high-profile, high-risk clients. Matt is on assignment to prevent the transfer of secret satellite plans to a foreign government. The two protagonists, while struggling to reconcile their mutual attraction with their demanding jobs, cross paths on a cruise ship, where they’re attempting to solve two on-board murders.

Matt took a seat in the Professor’s Retreat, an intimate space where actors read works of literature. He was clearing away thoughts of murder so he could take a fresh look at the case in the morning. Tonight’s reading was Samuel Coleridge’s “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.”

An older gentleman with beard and glasses stood behind a podium and addressed the fifteen or so passengers. Matt sat in the last row by himself. The actor didn’t use a microphone, but his rich, deep voice carried throughout the room. Matt had performed the poem in college. 

It was long, with seven parts, and would take about thirty minutes. He took a breath as the man read the last verse of Part One.

“God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—
Why look’st thou so?’—
With my cross-bow I shot the ALBATROSS.”

The poem pulled at his emotions, and he swallowed. Somehow, he had lost the love of his life. Diamond didn’t want to be married. He understood that, but he never asked why. “I see” is all he had said, and he didn’t see at all. It was as if she had delivered a knock-out punch, and his mind blacked out. He’d had other opportunities to ask, but his pride held him back. Anyway, he couldn’t push her to do something she didn’t want to do.

He clapped with the others after the final verse, whose words burned into his soul. “He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.” 

Matt was a sadder man but none the wiser. He left the theater and wandered through the nearby photo gallery. A photographer was stretching up to set a large photograph on top of a display. Diaz had a hand on Diamond’s bare shoulder. Matt’s heart pounded.

“Great photo, isn’t it?” The photographer turned to him. “I told them they looked like movie stars. You agree?”

Matt shouldered by him without speaking. Instead of taking the elevator, he went outside in the rain and walked up the steps, pulling in deep breaths. When he went inside, he shook the water out of his hat and brushed off his shoulders. He wandered into the Purple Dazzle. Marcus and Gabriela sat at a table near the dance floor. 

Matt took a seat at the bar. The room was crowded, and Matt tapped his fingers on the counter to the lively Spanish music. The band played “Dark Eyes,” a seductive tango. He sipped his Coke and choked when Sebastián took the floor with his arm around Diamond. He led her through a spectacular tango. Matt’s heart raced when the man’s leg grazed hers. He turned back to the bar, pushed the frosted mug of Coke away, and ordered a beer.

A soft voice jarred him. “Why are you sitting here alone, Matt?” 

He swung around. Melissa wore a flame-red gown with a side split. Her red hair hung loose, and a diamond choker circled her neck. The music stopped, and the passengers applauded the dancers. Melissa lifted a finger, and the band began playing “Kiss of Fire.” She touched Matt’s arm. “That’s our song. Come dance with me.”

“I haven’t danced the tango in a hundred years.” He pivoted back to the bar.

“Come on, darling. You said you never welch on an IOU.”

He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture, and she led him to the dance floor. His hand shook, but Melissa laughed. “Buck up, cowboy. The tango is much easier than wrestling a steer.” She put her hand on his shoulder and give it a push. “See what I mean?”

He laughed. “You win.” He’d always had a good sense of rhythm, and the moves came back to him as he began feeling the beat. The music was exhilarating. Matt held Melissa in his arms, and her hair touched the floor as she kicked up her leg. Finally, the music faded, and the audience applauded madly.

Head high, Melissa held his arm walking off the floor.

Marcus came over to the bar. “Cowboy, you have the moves, and how have I not met this lovely lady?”

Matt glanced toward Marcus’ table. “What happened to Gabriela?”

“She had a headache. Nothing could have torn me away from that exhibition.”

“Melissa, this is Marcus Hall.”

The band was playing a samba. “Mind if I ask Melissa to dance?”

“Be my guest.” Matt shook his head. The reason Melissa had hauled him onto the floor was to show off in front of Marcus.

Matt drank his beer. Marcus and Melissa executed a flawless samba. They stayed on the floor. After a few more dances, they left the club. By one o’clock, only a few couples were dancing. Matt was signaling the bartender when a hand tapped his shoulder.

“Hi, cowboy, may I have this dance?”

“Diamond!” He slid off the stool. “What are you doing here?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

His tongue ran over his lip. “I saw your photograph with Diaz. You looked very happy.”

“The photographer made a fuss. I couldn’t back out gracefully.” 

She took his hand, and the band played “Surrender.”

Matt let her lead him to the dance floor. She felt as light as a feather as he lifted her and spun her around to the exciting beat of the tango.

The music ended, but he stayed on the floor. Her hand was shaking, and he closed his hand around hers. The moment seemed surreal, and his eyes burned into hers, seeking answers about their relationship. He didn’t find any, and his questions stuck in his throat.

In the booth, Hope smiled. “How is it you rock the tango?”

Her warmth sent his heart racing, but why was she being so flirtatious and, at the same time, evasive? He seemed to be walking a tightrope across the Grand Canyon. Any misstep would send him plunging down into the depths. Words finally unstuck in his throat. “It’s a story that goes back to high school.”

“I’d like to hear it.”

Matt tilted his head and frowned. “My friend, Xavier, was crazy about some gal. She was very popular, senior class president. A bit like you, I imagine.”

“You’re wrong, you know. I didn’t even go to prom.”

He shook his head. “Xavi invited her to the prom months ahead of time. She said she’d go if he learned how to dance proper. He was too embarrassed to take lessons by himself, so he coerced me into going with him. I, of course, made him pay for the lessons.”

Matt grinned. “Turns out, we had this smoking hot dance teacher. Angelina Sofia Sánchez Moreiras.”

“You still remember her name?”

“I’ll never forget it. I was only eighteen, remember. I’d never been near a woman like that before, let alone dancing with her. We went to class every week for two months. When they played a tango at prom, we ruled. I haven’t danced it since then.”

“No way!” She laughed. “Who did you take to prom?”

He closed his eyes and turned his hands up. “I don’t remember her name. Tell me your prom story.”

“Not tonight.”

The band leader announced the last dance, and Matt led her to the floor. “It’s already Friday. My last day to find a killer and a set of blueprints. What is your Guardian Angel telling you?”

Hope closed her eyes. “It’s going to be very dangerous. Every decision we make will be critical, and all of us will be at risk.”

On Friday morning, rain was pounding the decks. At the buffet, Hope and Frank sat with Ruth and Leonard. 

“Where’s Lucy?” Ruth asked.

“She’s having breakfast in the dining room with Gino.” Hope nodded toward a table along the wall. “Leonard, that’s Marcus Hall facing us, four tables away.”

He turned around and peered at Marcus. “Can’t say I recognize him.”

Frank tapped Leonard’s arm. “What would you like to do today?”

“Meetings at nine. This afternoon is free, and there’s a party tonight.”

Rain splashed the windows. “How about you, Ruth? What would you like to do?”

“There’s a line dancing lesson at ten. Lucy said she’d go with me.”

When they finished breakfast, Hope stood up. “Oh, darn! Marcus left. I was going to introduce you, Leonard.”

He took a last swig of coffee. “No problem. There’s something familiar about him, but maybe that’s because I’ve seen him on the ship.”

Frank touched Hope’s arm. “What are your plans?”

“I’m going to think. This is our last full day at sea, and the case is wide open. You’ll take care of our clients, right? Lucy will be back soon.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

Back in her cabin, Hope closed her eyes. Something in Matt’sreport was teasing her. She needed to be alone to pull it in. Dressed in a warm sweater and jeans, she put on her red fashion boots with platform soles and six-inch stiletto heels. Before stepping out the door, she pulled a broad woolen cape around her and picked up her sturdy umbrella.

At the café, she smiled at Stefan. “Give me what the cowboy likes.”

He gave her a cup of coffee and an almond croissant. “I added milk.”

She laughed. “Thank you.”

Her emotions had been rioting all week, and she hadn’t been fair to Matt. She knocked at his door. “I brought you a snack.”

“Thanks.” He set it on the counter. “Where are you going in those heels? They look lethal.”

She laughed. “I like your boots. Tecovas, am I right?”

“Lady, do you know every brand of clothing on the market?”

“Pretty much. That’s what had me bonkers about Ruth’s outfits.” 

She spun around toward the door but stopped. “I’ve re-read the dossier, and I plan to let the facts freewheel in my mind. Something you wrote is tantalizing me.”

“I wrote?” His voice sounded strained. “Thanks for the hint. I’ll double back over my notes. I’m feeling like this is one case I’m not going to solve.” 

“It’s just a question of pulling the right thread that unravels the whole mystery. That’s what I’m looking for. I’ll check in with you when I’ve found it.”

He smiled. “You just brightened my day.”

“Keep smiling. Maybe those clouds will go away.”

As she crossed the atrium, Sam yelled out to her. “Where are you headed?”

“Thought I’d go outside and enjoy this wonderful weather.” She laughed. Turning her head, she shuddered. Gabriela Pérez was staring at her.

Frank, Lucy, and Leonard were on a sofa near the pianist, who was warming up. Hope swerved over to them. “I thought Sebastián arranged for you to attend meetings, Frank.”

“We bugged out of the techy session. It made my head spin,” Leonard said.

Frank chuckled. “Mine, too. Gino stayed. Lucy has inspired him to pay more attention to the business. Ruth was tired out after line dancing and is resting under lock and key. Where are you going with your parasol?”

“Up top to sit outside. Don’t say it. I know I’m crazy. But then you know it, too.”

“Yes, I know it. Where’s Matt?”

“In his cabin worrying about the blueprints.”

Hope waved and went to the elevator. Stepping out of the car, she walked outside under a covered area with tables and chairs surrounding a pool. Rain bounded off the pool water, and the ship’s movement sloshed the water from side to side.

Her skin became prickly, and she pulled her wool cape tighter. 

Her Guardian Angel was poking her shoulder, but she had to find the right thread. She climbed the stairs and followed the narrow walkway. 

Fog draped around her, and she held onto the wet railing and breathed in the acrid smell of the sea and fog. At the spot where she had discovered Gilbert’s body, she put her hand out and felt her way around the corner. She headed for the space behind the glass barrier. A stack of folding chairs was against the wall. She dragged one with her and sat down.

The roof kept the rain off her head, although it splashed in through the open side of the barrier. She set the umbrella across the arms of the chair. Closing her eyes, she leaned back, pulling in Matt’s words. The photo of the person in the drugstore merged with images of people she had seen on the ship.

Something Matt had written about adventure travel nagged her. A question came into focus. Why was he on this cruise to nowhere special? The image of the man’s face sharpened. Her eyes opened wide, and she saw in her mind the face of the killer.

She opened her eyes and looked toward the front of the ship. The dense fog shredded apart. A massive gray wave, like a steel mountain, rose up out of the sea. The sea cliff was moving toward her. The roar was deafening. She had no time to go inside. Her hands tightened around the umbrella. She stared ahead. The tidal wave was rearing to smash her. “Please, God let the barrier hold.”

She screamed and closed her eyes. The wave slammed the glass shield. The ship pitched violently. The barrier held, but another wave swelled up from the starboard side and flooded through the open side of the barrier. The punishing water toppled Hope’s chair and pinned her against the deck. She gripped the umbrella in both hands as though it were a life raft. Water filled the space like a fishbowl. She tried to get up, but the water and the soggy cape pressed her to the floor.

Hope held her breath. At three minutes, her chest felt as if it would burst. In training, she’d held her breath for nearly four minutes, but she was no longer in training. She squeezed the umbrella to stay conscious. As the water receded, she used her umbrella like a ski pole to stand up. She tilted her head back, her nose above water, and took in a deep breath. Then another wave crashed into the space.

In the atrium, Frank, Lucy, and Leonard were listening to the pianist, along with many other passengers. Frank requested “Slaughter on Tenth Avenue,” and the man began playing it.

Marcus waved to Lucy and sat down at a table under the stairway. Sam picked up coffee and headed toward the Blue Iris. Gabriela was standing at the pastry counter.

“Anybody like a refill?” Lucy stood up. 

Frank waved a finger, and Lucy walked toward the counter. The ship reared up like a humpback whale breaching the surface of the sea. When it slammed down, Lucy pitched forward and landed head first on the marble floor. Chairs overturned, and people screamed as they were thrown against walls and furniture. The pianist’s hands crashed down on the keys. Frank and Leonard landed on their knees.

Frank twisted around toward the counter “Lucy!” He scrambled to her and knelt on the floor. Her pulse was very faint, and her eyes were closed. 

Stefan leaned over Frank. “I called the medics.”

Frank turned to yell to Leonard, but he was racing up the curved stairs, probably to check on Ruth. Frank grabbed Stefan’s shirt and yelled, “Go to A246. Tell the cowboy Hope is up top.”

The captain’s voice spoke over the loudspeaker. “This is the captain speaking from the bridge. We hit a rogue wave. One of our engines has sustained damage, but the other engine is working. We will continue to experience rough seas. Please stay in your cabins to avoid injury. Do not go out on deck. The ship is in no danger. Repeat. The ship is in no danger.”

Lucy’s eyes never blinked. Frank spoke in her ear, his eyes burning. “Hold on, Lucy. The doctor’s coming. Stay with me.”

The few minutes before two paramedics arrived with a gurney seemed like hours. Frank choked out a few words and pointed. “Bad bump on her head.”

The men lifted her onto the gurney. Frank struggled getting up, and the man helped him. Walking beside the gurney, Frank kept a hand on Lucy’s arm.

Stefan came racing over. “I tell cowboy. He run out fast. No hat.”

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