“No? Huh. He wasn’t sick? Well, why did he just leave his job? I can’t imagine that. It’s such a wonderful job!”

“I really don’t know why Remy left, Pauline. You’d have to ask…” He looked out across the room again.

I knew he was going to say Jackie but caught himself.

“Oh, Peter, I was also meaning to ask you, have you heard anything about…Jackie?”

His hands froze in midair.

I felt horrible, but told myself it was all part of the job. There were things in this business that I had to do, which were not pleasant but necessary.

“Heard?” Peter said.

“Yeah, heard anything else about her. I mean, I guess the cause of death was obviously stabbing, but anything else? She…she was my roommate, you know.”

“No, I didn’t. Nothing else in her chart of interest that I remember seeing. I already told the FBI all I knew.”

How much did Peter know? And her chart? I wanted to ask where it was, but couldn’t come up with a good reason I’d need to know and sure didn’t want old Pete to be suspicious of me. “I noticed the FBI guys over there.” We both looked in their direction. “I hope they find out something soon. Creeps me out that I could have been in the room…you know.”

Peter touched my hand. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it was an isolated case.”

Isolated case? Hmm. How could old Pete be so sure?

“I hope they find her anklet.”

He looked at me as if I were speaking French.

“She…lost it. Maybe it’s in with her personal belongings. Brownish. Rope with some beads on it.” I bit down on a giant piece of cucumber. Even I wanted to choke myself to shut up. But in my line of work I had to work every angle.

“Jackie’s stuff is all packed up. The captain has it.”

“Did you see the anklet?”

He shook his head, and then waved at someone behind me. I turned to see a woman carrying a toddler and a little girl walking alongside. “Adorable family,” I said, and then excused myself.

As I stuck my tray on the conveyor belt, I wondered, How can I break into the captain’s office?

My second thought was…

“You want to what?” Jagger said as I leaned over the craps table. He threw the dice.

“Two. Craps,” the dealer called out.

Jagger glared at me while the man raked in Jagger’s chips.

“Oops,” I muttered.

This time when he shook his head, I knew I’d cost him a pretty penny. “I didn’t think you were supposed to gamble while working.”

He motioned toward the woman sitting next to him and whispered, “I am working.” With that he pushed out another pile of chips. “And I don’t know what the hell made me think you might bring me some good luck.”

I blew out a breath while Jagger picked up the dice.

“I should just quit now, since you’ve probably contaminated my chance.”

The woman next to him said, “Honey, do you want Madeline to blow for you?”

I didn’t think she was talking dice.

The dealer looked impatient. Jagger shook his head and flung the dice.

“Lucky seven for the gentleman.”

A pile of chips was pushed toward Jagger. “There,” I whispered. “I feel much better now.”

Jagger turned toward Madeline. She looked a few years older than myself and had no wedding ring on, but each finger had some kind of bauble that sparkled-and I wasn’t thinking cubic zirconium.

The floral scent that hung in the air around her had to come from some expensive perfume. (Not that I knew expensive perfume. My only comparison was to the floral arrangements that decorated the caskets in Roosevelt’s funeral parlor back home. Madeline did not smell like a funeral parlor.) The worst part about her, in my humble opinion, was her scratchy, sexy voice. Guys must love that.

“Maybe next time it won’t take so long for you to win,” Jagger said then handed her the pile of chips.

“Oh. Well, good. I’m glad for you,” I said to her, grabbing Jagger’s arm. “I need to talk to Jay here a minute.”

She waved her hand as if dismissing a servant. “As long as you bring my lucky boy back.” With that she set off into hysterics.

“Come on, lucky boy.” We walked through the noisy casino until we were near the hallway to the elevators. Thank goodness the ship had some high-powered air-filtering system, because there was no scent of smoke hanging in the air. There was, however, the continuous cling cling of slot machines calling to the passengers, and the decorator had a change of mind and made the entire place silver and orange. No purple in sight.

Maybe silver and orange made passengers spend more money there.

Jagger led the way and before I knew it, we were on the upper deck, watching the dolphins frolicking in the tank. I bit my tongue before I ended up giving him an aquatic mammal lesson. I figured Jagger knew about the buffeo anyway.

He seemed to know everything else.

“What have you got so far?” he asked. One of the dolphins swam so close to the side of the tank, the water splashed Jagger’s sleeve. He blinked and ignored it.

I chuckled and told him about my talk with Peter. “So, he really seemed as if he were keeping a secret. I don’t know. He must know more about Remy than he lets on, but then again, all the darn staff seems to have some secret. They have this clandestine grapevine growing around here. Jackie’s chart and personal belongings might be of help. They’ve already been moved from the infirmary. Too bad we didn’t get to see them or her chart when we snooped around in there.

“I’m sure the FBI has read Jackie’s chart over and over and will probably take it when they leave the ship.”

I rubbed the water beads from Jagger’s sleeve and said, “That’s why we need to see the chart tonight. We don’t have to remove it from the room.”

Jagger looked at me. I know he was about ready to remind me of how we’d gotten locked up together on other cases when we went snooping around.

Sometimes it wasn’t such a bad deal.

I sucked in a breath as Jagger pushed me up against the wall and wrapped his arms around my waist. He leaned forward to kiss my lips, but there was no magic involved. He was doing it to fake out the crewmember walking down the hallway. The hallway that led to the captain’s office.

The guy went past, grinning, and then Jagger moved away without a word.

All I could do was straighten my hairdo. I’d borrowed one of Goldie’s black wigs and thought it looked pretty damn good with my fair complexion. Gave me a porcelain-doll appearance just short of Kabuki. At least that’s how I looked at it. I’d also borrowed a royal blue sparkly top, and wore it over my black crepe slacks with my spike heels. The black ones with a diamond clip-on bow. Ouch, but sexy.

Looked damn good, even if in disguise.

Jagger had worn a black suit with a turtleneck. Very Cary Grant/James Bond/lounge lizard. Very good-looking. He had a blond wig on that made him look a bit like Brad Pitt or Tab Hunter mixed with Beach Boy, depending on your age.

All in all, we’d managed not to look like ourselves. I had my mini camera that looked like a beeper in my evening purse along with Latex gloves, and I wore my pink necklace. Even with this evening attire, the necklace fit. Seemed it went with whatever I wore. Very chameleon-like-just like Jagger.

After our fake kiss (okay, my knees still buckled on contact), Jagger looked around and eased me closer to the office door. Since it was nighttime, the staff, along with the captain, was out socializing with the passengers. We’d passed through the Bottlenose Lounge on the way down here to make sure. The head honchos were there, along with the FBI guys.

Made me feel much better about our breaking and entering.

I looked down the hallway and then heard a click. When I turned back, Jagger was standing there with the door open! What a guy. Fake kisses and picking locks. Talk about talent.