If I could have fit through the porthole, I’d have been shark bait right then. No, being shark food would be too good of a way for me to die. I had wanted to kiss him, but something inside me said it wasn’t right. Kissing could lead to…things. Things that would change our relationship forever. I mentally shook my head and said, “Let me see what kinds of workups and treatments Remy received.”

Jagger pushed the folder toward me, brushing my knee, which I chose to ignore, and said, “Have at it, Sherlock.”

I thumbed through the pages for several minutes. “Hmm. Oh.” I turned the pages to see Remy had received four X-rays in the month of February. “Yikes. Wow.” I noted that he’d been seen several more times and all kinds of blood work was done-all coming back normal.

Yet all being charged to the insurance company.

“My, my.”

Jagger yanked the file from my lap.

“What? What is wrong?” I said, startled.

“Yikes? Wow? My, my? What the hell are you reading to cause such orgasmic sounds?”

My mouth turned to Jell-O. No way could I respond to that question coming from Jagger.

“Well? Could he have been scamming the insurance company?”

I managed a nod.

“Perfect. All we have to do now is find out who he worked with-”

“And…and where he is,” I squeaked out.

Now I knew why office romances are frowned upon.

Good thing I’d held my ground.

We went to the same café-style restaurant we’d eaten in earlier, and Jagger went to the counter to order. I sat myself down in a booth in the back. Several female singles had accosted us on the elevator, in the lobby and along the hallway. Host Jay seemed to be very popular.

I smiled to myself with pride, thinking of how I’d managed to get past Topaz to “return” Remy’s file to its hiding place. Jagger had said he’d take care of reporting everything to “the authorities” (and made sure to take pictures of the file with his photo glasses). It was best to return it. I didn’t even ask what authorities he meant or what he’d tell them about how I’d found the file.

I trusted Jagger with my life. I could trust him with a lie about me too.

I sat there watching the passengers come and go, getting lattés, herbal teas and bagels or muffins. Suddenly I realized I was hungry and wondered if Hunter had called me and left a message about dinner plans. I looked at my watch. Another hour to go before the crew’s dining room opened.

“Thought you might want this.”

Jagger set a hot tea down in front of me followed by a dish with half a bagel on it. Toasted. Cream cheese-and no lox.

His had the lox. I was embarrassed that he’d noticed how I’d hid them that morning, but what a guy.

“Thanks. I’m really not a fish person. I only like Boston scrod. White. Flaky. Not fishy-tasting. Plenty of bread crumbs and butter.” I took a sip of tea and noticed Jagger shaking his head at me. That was his sign of exasperation. If he shook twice, I was in trouble.

“No need to go trawling for an excuse, Sherlock. You don’t like lox. Fine. Next time tell me.”

My face burned hotter than my tea.

“Trawling. As in fishing. Oh, I get it. Cute,” I lied, and stuffed the bagel into my mouth.

“Okay, so far we have Remy disappearing and now a connection to the fraud. What next?”

I choked on my bagel.

Jagger jumped up and slammed me a good one on the back. “You all right?”

I nodded.

“Can you say something, to be sure?” I could see he was actually worried.

“Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. How’s that?” My voice came out a bit scratchy, but that was because there had been a gigantic piece of bagel stuck in my throat. “I’m fine.”

He nodded, took a sip of his black coffee and bit down on his bagel.

Then he shook his head again, but this time in a good way.

After our “coffee break,” Jagger had to head off to work in the casino and I went back to my room. There was a message on the phone from Hunter. He couldn’t meet me for dinner tonight, but would I come to the casino around eight and have a drink with him? He was supervising the bingo game.

Bingo.

Geez. My insides knotted. I’d had my fill of bingo on another case. But I called Hunter back and we were set for eight. I decided I’d rest awhile and then eat in the crew’s dining room.

At the crewmembers’ cafeteria, I realized I wasn’t very hungry, but thought I might meet someone worthy of talking to and maybe learn more for my case.

I eased past a few chairs. The room was retro in design, looking very much like something out of the fifties-not that I was around in those days, but I’d seen TV shows, like I Love Lucy and The Donna Reed Show. Deep navy Formica tabletops sat on aluminum legs. Each table had red and white vinyl chairs with L-shaped legs, so you could bounce a little, and the floor was a checkerboard of black and white squares.

On all the walls, instead of the trusty dolphins, were old movie posters of stars like Marilyn Monroe, Cary Grant, Henry Fonda and even Arnold in his Terminator outfit. Either the designers had had a very nostalgic moment, or they wanted to give the crewmembers a break from the nautical motif.

I like this place a lot, I thought, as I went through the line, got a salad and perused the room for a place to sit.

“Hey, Peter, is anyone sitting here?” I found the doctor eating by himself.

He motioned for me to join him. I’d learned that he’d been on this particular trip about five times now, for all of his vacations from his practice. Not sure if he would be of any help, I decided I’d give it a shot. Besides, no one else in the room looked like they’d be any good to me right now.

At the far table, two of the FBI agents were drinking coffee and talking to several of the crew. I recognized a few of them as ones who lived along the same hallway as the infirmary. Hopefully, someone had seen something that would help get the murder solved. The blond FBI agent caught me looking at him, so I quickly turned my attention to Peter.

Peter looked at me. “Not too hungry?”

I glanced at my salad. “Late-afternoon snack has me quite satisfied.” I felt myself smiling.

He grinned.

Geez! His mind had headed in the wrong direction! Before I turned pinker than the lox, I added, “Tea time. Couldn’t resist a bagel. Those darn carbs sure can fill up a gal.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.

“Where’s your family?” I stabbed a piece of arugula and chewed on it.

He explained they were at the pool, and for some unknown reason, I gave him the details of the buffeo dolphins. He said his kids loved watching them, especially when they’d push a toy to the water’s surface for their trainer.

“Yeah. That must be cute. Did you know that nurse-Remy Girard?”

Peter stared at me a few seconds. Okay, I could have used a better segue-or any segue, for that matter-but time was money-and maybe even life-here.

“I worked with him on several trips.” He started to sip his Coke, all the time watching me over the rim of the can.

I nodded. “Then you did know him pretty well. I’m only curious, since I guess I’m the one replacing him. You know, they told me he was sick and left the ship. I figured the poor nurse must have been very ill to have to leave his job. Poor, poor thing.” This time I blinked back fake tears and told myself I should get an Oscar. My lying and acting skills were getting much better as each case progressed.

Peter drank some more. I wondered if he wished there was rum in that Coke.

“Was he really sick?” I continued.

He looked around the room as if maybe trying to find someone to save him from me. “I…I never treated him for anything.”