I bit back a smile. I didn’t think for a minute that Neil’s idea of getting to know me better was any type of come-on. From what little I knew about the man, he had never been married, nor did he have a reputation as a playboy. In fact, I was certain Neil wasn’t interested in me as a woman, or any woman at all, for that matter. But as far as an interview with Neil Webster went, I was plenty interested. And, if I was careful, I’d walk away not only with a story about Athena but Neil Webster as well, and every financial publisher in the Western World would be knocking on my door for the inside scoop on one of the world’s wealthiest men.

“Sounds fair enough. But, on one condition.”

“And what might that be?”

“You said you’re a food aficionado. You like to cook. Make dinner for me. Something I can write about for my magazine. And if I like what I eat, with your permission, I’ll include something about your culinary skills.” I held my hand up to wave off any objection. “Nothing about your business, I promise. Just something a little folksy my readers will enjoy.”

Neil smirked. I was making headway.

“Alright, you’re on. My apartment. Wednesday night.” Neil brushed past me to the front door and stopped. “Come hungry. But remember, no questions about my business or my personal life. It’s off limits.”

“No problem.” I closed and locked the door behind me and did a celebratory fist bump. If I could get Neil Webster to cook dinner for me, I could convince him to give me an interview.

Chapter Three

Iwas still thinking about Neil and how I would tell Sophie he had agreed to cook one of his special meals for me when I noticed a small black crocheted handbag on the table next to the door. I had missed it when I came in the night before. The apartment had been dark, and the door had hidden the small table behind it when open. But now, in the light of day, with the door closed, there it was, a woman’s handbag abandoned, as though forgotten.

I couldn’t imagine the bag belonged to Dede. What woman would go off and leave her purse behind when going into a foreign country? Unless, of course—I was already kicking myself for the thought—she had gone overboard like Ida believed—either accidentally or otherwise.

Captain Byard and Chief O’Sullivan thought Ida and Irene were lovely old ladies, but a bit daffy and known to amuse themselves with conspiracy theories. Consequently, I refused to entertain any thought of Dede’s demise. There had to be a more obvious explanation. Perhaps Dede had changed out her purse at the last minute, or maybe the bag belonged to one of Dede’s lady friends who had come to visit and forgotten it as she hurried out the door.

I should have left it at that. But I couldn’t let go of the idea that a woman wouldn’t leave her handbag behind any more than I could unsee the bag on the table. It was as though it were calling me. I debated whether I was within my rights to look inside. If this wasn’t Dede’s bag but some other passenger’s, I’d be doing them a favor by learning the owner’s identity and returning it.

The bag won out.

I moved it to the dining room table so I could better look at what was inside and found a thin, medium-sized red wallet, a small, grey flip phone, keys, lipstick, and a palm-sized English-to-Italian dictionary. I opened the wallet, hopeful I would find another woman’s I.D. Instead, staring back at me was a Colorado driver’s license with Dede Drummerhausen’s photo prominently displayed on the left side. Round face, short curly red hair. Beneath her picture, her address, and her date of birth. June 2, 1933. Eye color: Green. Height: Five foot five. Weight: 165.

I placed the wallet on the table and stepped back. Okay, Dede Drummerhausen, where are you?

As a journalist, I had reported from enough crime scenes to know there were always clues left behind. I’ll never forget my first homicide. A young couple had gone to park beneath the stars, been dragged from their car, and shot point blank beneath a Palo Verde tree. When I arrived, the bodies had been removed, but the Inspector was still combing the scene for evidence. I asked what he was looking for, and he pointed to scuff marks in the sand and fibers from a pink ribbon hanging from the tree. He taught me to read the scene. The young girl had tried to run but to no avail. From that day on, I knew no matter the crime, there were always clues. One just had to learn how to look for them. I scanned the living room for signs of an argument or a disturbed mind.

Dede’s quarters included maid service, which presented a problem. Aside from my unmade bed in the guest room, everything appeared to have been swept clean. On the surface, I could see nothing out of the ordinary. No signs of a struggle or disarray. The living room, or great room, a combination living-dining area, with its cream-colored walls and overstuffed furnishings, included a couch, coffee table, two oversized swivel chairs, and a formal dining table, all set against a wall of floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors that lead outside to the deck, The kitchen, with its stainless steel appliances and highly polished aluminum counters, didn’t have so much as a smudge. Everything, from the books on the coffee table to silver-framed pictures on the buffet, including several of Dede, one with her sitting in a golf cart with a man who I assumed might be her husband and another of her holding a bottle of Champagne and christening Athena, suggested a very organized and comfortable lifestyle.

I was about to stuff Dede’s wallet back into her bag when I heard a tapping on the cabin door, followed by a man’s voice. “Knock. Knock. It’s your butler, Ms. Lawson.”

I still couldn’t get used to the idea of a butler and gathered Dede’s bag into my arms as though it were my own. Finn entered the apartment, cabin keys in one hand, dry cleaning in the other.

“Sorry to disturb you. I’ve Ms. Drummerhausen’s dry cleaning. I’ll just be a moment.” Finn disappeared into Dede’s bedroom. I put Dede’s bag back on the table and followed Finn as far as the bedroom door.

“Finn?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I apologize. We didn’t get much of a chance to chat last night. I was so tired when I came in. I haven’t even unpacked.” I nodded in the direction of the guest bedroom, where my small rolie and backpack remained untouched on the floor. “I wanted to thank you. Particularly for the welcome basket.”

“I’m glad you liked it. If you need anything, just ring the operator. Use the house phone. There’s one in the kitchen, the bedroom, and by the front door. Ms. Drummerhausen may be gone, but you’re here, and her quarters are my responsibility.”

“I appreciate that. However, I did have a question.”

“Yes.” Finn leaned casually against the closet door, the dry cleaning folded over his arm.

“I’m curious. Do you know what time Ms. Drummerhausen left yesterday?” I was hopeful Finn might have seen Dede leave and put an end to any suspicions I had concerning the Churchill sisters’ worries about Dede’s whereabouts.

“I’ve no idea.” Finn retreated into Dede’s closet and hung up the dry cleaning. “I was busy with Professor Braun and his wife, Greta. They live across the hall. Nice people. I’m sure you’ll meet them.” Then poking his head out of the closet, he asked. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s quite alright.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you last night, there’s a mini-safe in your closet for valuables.” Finn pointed in the direction of the guest room. “The instructions are printed on the outside. Just key in whatever code you like.” Finn paused outside the closet door and scanned the room as though he were taking inventory. Satisfied everything appeared to be in its place, he ran his hand across the bureau, rubbed his thumb and index finger together, and then slipped past me in the doorway. I followed Finn to the living room, where he stopped in front of the glass doors. The late afternoon sun was streaking through, and the room had begun to heat up. “I can close the verticals if you like.”

“No need,” I said. “I’m sure I can do it.”

I wondered if Finn had paused in front of the glass doors because of the heat or if he had noticed Dede’s black bag on the dining table. Whatever his concern, he appeared satisfied I could handle the blinds on my own and moved toward the front door.

“Will you be going for cocktails at six? The residents usually gather in the bar every night at about that time.”

“Not tonight. I was planning on unpacking and reviewing my notes for tomorrow.”

“Very well, then. I’ll leave you be. Good night.”

I waited until Finn closed the door, returned to the dining room table, and stuffed Dede’s wallet, phone, and keys back into her bag. I was about to put the small dictionary into the side pocket when I felt something hard and round beneath the lining. It felt like a loose coin. I took everything out again, turned Dede’s bag inside out, and looked for a hole in the lining through which any loose change might have fallen. But there was none. Instead, I could see where the lining had been cut and carefully resewn.

I pulled at the thread until it gave way to a small opening in the bottom of the purse. A mini plastic bag like I had used to carry a small pair of earrings was hidden beneath the lining. But inside wasn’t a pair of earrings, but a gold coin, about the size of a nickel. On one side was a head-and-shoulders profile of a man. And on the reverse was a skullcap between two daggers with six letters beneath the images, all in caps and evenly spaced in two groups of three letters each. I read them aloud. E.I.D. M.A.R.

With the plastic baggie in my hand, I walked out onto the balcony and held the small bag up to the light. The gold coin inside caught the last rays of the late afternoon sun as the light danced across the Mediterranean’s blue waters. Whatever the coin was, it had to be valuable. Why else would it be hidden inside of Dede’s bag? It made no sense. If Dede knew it was there, she wouldn’t have left it—not voluntarily, anyway. And if Dede didn’t know anything about it, then who did?

I palmed the coin and returned to the dining room table, where I picked up Dede’s bag. Whatever this odd, unusual-looking gold coin was, it wasn’t my business. There had to be some reason why Dede had hidden the coin inside her bag, just like there had to be some sensical reason why Dede had missed breakfast the morning the Churchill sisters thought she had gone missing. But still…I paused and looked at the coin in the palm of my hand. While it seemed authentically old, how could I know for sure? Maybe it was just some lucky talisman Dede had hidden inside her bag for good luck. What I did know was that I was on a cruise around the Amalfi Coast on a first-class ship and that I had landed an exclusive interview with Neil Webster. Whatever this coin was, it didn’t belong to me. I slipped the gold coin back beneath the bag’s lining and returned the bag to the table behind the front door. If someone were to come looking for the bag and found it without the gold coin hidden beneath the lining, they might suspect, since I was staying in Dede’s suite, that I had something to do with its disappearance. And then, who knows what trouble that might bring?

My mind was racing like a pinball machine. Why might Dede have left her bag behind the door or failed to show up at breakfast with the Churchill sisters? I returned to the dining table and uncorked a bottle of red wine from the gift basket Finn had left for me. It was almost nine p.m. Whatever had happened to Dede, whether she had gotten off the Athena on her own accord—or not—I couldn’t let go of the idea that something was wrong. Call it a reporter’s sixth sense, but things didn’t feel right despite Athena’s serene surroundings. I took a sip of wine and was about to take my glass and the bottle out to the balcony when the apartment phone rang. It was Captain Byard.

Chapter Four

“Good evening, Kat. It seems our late departure from Naples this afternoon has created a small change in our itinerary and an unusual opportunity. Something that I think you might find interesting. We’ll be sailing past Mount Vesuvius around ten p.m. I thought you might like to join us on the bridge. The view from here’s spectacular, and if you like, I could give a tour of the ship afterward.”

I twirled the stem of the wine glass in my hand. I could think of nothing better than spending a beautiful, star-studded evening in the company of the ship’s handsome Captain. But, tempting as the offer was, after finding what looked like an ancient gold coin hidden inside Dede’s bag and thinking she might or might not be missing, I decided to put the brakes on the idea of a shipboard romance, at least for the moment. If Captain Byard was wrong about Dede and she hadn’t gotten off the ship of her own accord, or even worse, if he was lying to cover up some sinister event, I thought it best to keep things professional. At least until I had a better understanding of Dede’s disappearance and the gold coin I had found in her bag. Still, I did have a story to write, and I needed a tour of the ship. I accepted Byard’s offer, promised myself I wouldn’t get caught up in his charms, and told him I’d meet him on the bridge at ten, then returned to the guest bedroom to unpack.

It didn’t take me but a few minutes to get organized. I travel light. I’m not much of a clothes hound. No point in dragging heavy bags halfway around the world. And, since this was a warm weather cruise, everything I thought I’d need fit in my backpack and a small rollie. A half dozen t-shirts, shorts, pants, tennis shoes, sandals, a swimsuit, a simple black shift, and a long-sleeved hooded sweatshirt. I considered wearing the dress, but it seemed inappropriate if I had to climb stairs. Instead, I opted for a pair of slinky black palazzo pants and a white t-shirt, then wiggled into a pair of black flats and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Lastly, I took my camera from my backpack, strung it around my neck, checked the mirror, and added a bit of mascara and lip gloss. I may have had my doubts about the captain, but I still wanted to make a good impression—just in case.

* * *

Finn had included a map of the ship with the gift basket, and I checked it quickly for directions. The Bridge was on the Sun Deck or the Lido Deck, at the front of the ship or the bow, opposite the Ivy Café where I had High Tea with the Churchill sisters that afternoon. The map showed three sets of elevators. One at the ship’s bow. One mid-ship, closest to Dede’s apartment, and another at the far end of the hall, closer to the stern. I elected to take the elevator mid-ship and punched the button to the Lido Deck three floors up. When the doors opened, the ship’s yellow party lights illuminated an empty outdoor play area, easily the size of a football field. The bar was closed, the pool and jacuzzi were empty, and the deck chairs were all neatly folded and pulled beneath the sun awning. Directly ahead of me, towards the bow, was the Bridge, a large windowed structure that ran the entire width of the ship with two winged room-like areas off the port and starboard sides. A crew member sat outside a door marked Crew Only and, seeing me, opened the door and escorted me inside.

Inside, the Bridge was illuminated with red lights, and for a moment, I felt like I was standing on a movie set for the Star Trek Enterprise. It looked almost futuristic. Three oversized swivel chairs faced a panel of tall, expansive windows that looked out over the front of the ship to the sea beyond and into the inky black night sky. Beneath the windows were a series of computer screens, and centered between them, a small wheel, the size one might see on a toy car. Not at all what I expected for a ship the size of Athena.

Captain Byard stood up as I entered the room. “Welcome to the Bridge, Kat.”

Maybe it was the ship’s movement or the haze from the red lights that engulfed the room, but looking at the Captain, I suddenly felt faint. I stepped back and braced myself against the wall.

“Are you okay?”