You could say that I felt him before I saw him, the weight of his stare sneaking up on me.
Only two days into our much-planned holiday girl getaway, this vacation in paradise morphed into a vacation in hell.
At first, we had no idea what the hell was happening. But after we got back to our rooms, we received a flurry of concerned texts from family.
“Murder Ship,” they were calling it in the press. I mean, one murder on a cruise ship would be bad enough, but three? It was hard to process the reality that a serial killer was sailing the high seas with us.
Yeah. A fucking serial killer.
“How can she think about romance right now?” I lugged my jute tote from the cart.
“She’s the only one having fun, I guess,” Camille shrugged, fidgeting with her blonde braid.
“Ignorance is bliss."
The heavily intoxicated brunette in the candy cane swimsuit and matching wrap had been all over the ship, flirting, taking selfies, and talking loudly before the fateful announcement came over the speakers, commanding all to return to their rooms. The ship was altering course to the nearest port in response to a criminal investigation.
The FBI was getting involved.
“I wish she’d stop flirting with the security guard so we can get through this damn line,” I sniped.
“Creepy thought. Maybe it’s her.”
That made me laugh. “Funny. But I doubt it.”
Whoever pulled off killing three so-called high profile millionaires, according to news reports, wasn't your average killer. This killer was cunning. It could be somebody who had easy access to the rooms. Like a maid. But Candy didn’t seem up to the task. Then again, maybe this drunk party girl shtick was all an act.
Pressing my dark hair from my face, I watched her momentarily. When she grabbed the guard’s walkie-talkie, he slapped her hand away before wagging his finger at her. She laughed, the alcohol on her breath surely wafting. Caught a whiff of it at the hot tub.
All I could do was sigh and wait. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with drama queens who were too selfish to think about other people, especially in a time like this. I wanted nothing more than to get checked into a room at the resort we were being sent to so I could sleep off this very bad day.
Although a nice dip in the hot tub before bed would be nice, maybe I’d run into him again—he was something else. I felt his eyes on me, creeping up my spine. When I turned my head his dark blue gaze was right there. Shamelessly watching me. Studying me. I’m not sure what was more alarming. The dead serious expression in his eyes while he stared me coolly down, or my reaction to him. It was like my body was confused, hot and cold. On the outside, my skin was covered in chills. On the inside, I was burning up. Weird. When I felt my cheeks blush red, I turned away.
Out of sight, out of mind.
But then... He followed us. Camille lost her phone. He had picked it up.
“You forgot something,” he said in a deep, methodic voice, his words perfectly annunciated. So he was classy and abnormally good-looking--very tall and built, with dark blonde hair and stormy blue eyes. He didn’t smile in a way that showed his teeth. He didn’t smile at all, now that I think of it.
Kendrick, he'd said his name was, his voice deep and sultry and with a slight British accent.
I’d figured he was vacationing with a girlfriend or wife, which would have made his good looks and attentive eyes feel like such a shame... That is, if there weren't something so wrong about him.
...coming soon...