some water in his face.
“The people in the masks, they threw you overboard?” Johnson asked from the other side of the door.
Jack wiped his face off with a towel. “Yeah.”
“It’s a miracle you survived.”
Jack wasn’t sure if he’d just imagined a hint of skepticism in the agent’s voice or not. When he opened the door, he answered, “Maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Depends on how this all plays out, I guess.”
Of course it was the bitterness talking, the unfairness of having a loved one snatched away with no rhyme or reason as to why. But Johnson wasn’t about to psychoanalyze him, so he moved on to his next question. “Tell me about the note.”
Jack walked back into the kitchen. “Security found a suicide note in our room. It looked like Stacey’s writing.”
“You think they forced her to write it?”
“Of course.”
Johnson walked around the perimeter of the kitchen, silent.
“What?” Jack asked.
“Doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“That it was random.”
Jack lowered his head, his hand pausing on the refrigerator handle. “I was thinking mistaken identity.”
Johnson nodded his shaved head. “A hit meant for another couple in another room. Could be.” He paused again. “Do you have the note?”
He opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. “Yeah. Security didn’t even notice that I took it, and the police in Nassau never even asked to see it. You guys should really do something about that, the whole cruise thing, I mean. It’s pathetic.” Leaving the kitchen, he headed back up the steps. “I’ll get it.”
When he returned, he found Agent Johnson scrutinizing the framed photos that were lined up across the shelves of the entertainment center. “Here,” he said, making his presence known.
Johnson turned and took the letter from him, taking a few seconds to read it over. When he finished, he looked up. “She had cancer?”
“Yeah, we’d just found out. That’s why we were on the cruise, to get away for a couple weeks before…” He trailed off, focusing on one of their wedding photos. It seemed like a hundred years ago, yet the first day of their cruise had bridged the gap like only a time machine from some future world could. He tried not to imagine what the rest of the trip would have been like.
“Anyone else know that she had cancer?”
“Just her mother.”
“That’s it?”
“She didn’t want to go through chemo. She was planning on pursuing other treatments and didn’t want everyone’s two cents about it.”
He frowned. “Kind of odd that she would want to make the note seem more authentic than she had to.”
Jack’s mouth was already open in response, but it ultimately fell shut without anything to say. Why the hell would she mention the cancer? The men wouldn’t have known about it so why make the note that much more convincing by revealing an unknown truth? And why would the men who had gone through the trouble of planning the thing even leave their cover story up to her imagination? None of it made sense. “Maybe she knew she was about to die, and this was her way of saying goodbye…” But it didn’t seem like something Stacey would do, though he’d never witnessed her in such a situation before.
“You think these men came into your suite, took your wife out of the bedroom, and then came back for you?”
The agent was right. There’s no way that Stacey would have sat there next to the bed he was sleeping in while constructing a carefully concocted suicide note for three intruders who were going to kill her anyway. She would have screamed. Would have fought. No, if they threw her overboard, it had to have been after they tossed him, not before.
Johnson asked, “Do you have her cell phone? I’d like to see that text message she got.”
“No. I don’t know where it is. I was just looking for it myself, hoping her mother left a message letting her know where she took Joseph.”
“You don’t know where your
“The people in the masks, they threw you overboard?” Johnson asked from the other side of the door.
Jack wiped his face off with a towel. “Yeah.”
“It’s a miracle you survived.”
Jack wasn’t sure if he’d just imagined a hint of skepticism in the agent’s voice or not. When he opened the door, he answered, “Maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Depends on how this all plays out, I guess.”
Of course it was the bitterness talking, the unfairness of having a loved one snatched away with no rhyme or reason as to why. But Johnson wasn’t about to psychoanalyze him, so he moved on to his next question. “Tell me about the note.”
Jack walked back into the kitchen. “Security found a suicide note in our room. It looked like Stacey’s writing.”
“You think they forced her to write it?”
“Of course.”
Johnson walked around the perimeter of the kitchen, silent.
“What?” Jack asked.
“Doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“That it was random.”
Jack lowered his head, his hand pausing on the refrigerator handle. “I was thinking mistaken identity.”
Johnson nodded his shaved head. “A hit meant for another couple in another room. Could be.” He paused again. “Do you have the note?”
He opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. “Yeah. Security didn’t even notice that I took it, and the police in Nassau never even asked to see it. You guys should really do something about that, the whole cruise thing, I mean. It’s pathetic.” Leaving the kitchen, he headed back up the steps. “I’ll get it.”
When he returned, he found Agent Johnson scrutinizing the framed photos that were lined up across the shelves of the entertainment center. “Here,” he said, making his presence known.
Johnson turned and took the letter from him, taking a few seconds to read it over. When he finished, he looked up. “She had cancer?”
“Yeah, we’d just found out. That’s why we were on the cruise, to get away for a couple weeks before…” He trailed off, focusing on one of their wedding photos. It seemed like a hundred years ago, yet the first day of their cruise had bridged the gap like only a time machine from some future world could. He tried not to imagine what the rest of the trip would have been like.
“Anyone else know that she had cancer?”
“Just her mother.”
“That’s it?”
“She didn’t want to go through chemo. She was planning on pursuing other treatments and didn’t want everyone’s two cents about it.”
He frowned. “Kind of odd that she would want to make the note seem more authentic than she had to.”
Jack’s mouth was already open in response, but it ultimately fell shut without anything to say. Why the hell would she mention the cancer? The men wouldn’t have known about it so why make the note that much more convincing by revealing an unknown truth? And why would the men who had gone through the trouble of planning the thing even leave their cover story up to her imagination? None of it made sense. “Maybe she knew she was about to die, and this was her way of saying goodbye…” But it didn’t seem like something Stacey would do, though he’d never witnessed her in such a situation before.
“You think these men came into your suite, took your wife out of the bedroom, and then came back for you?”
The agent was right. There’s no way that Stacey would have sat there next to the bed he was sleeping in while constructing a carefully concocted suicide note for three intruders who were going to kill her anyway. She would have screamed. Would have fought. No, if they threw her overboard, it had to have been after they tossed him, not before.
Johnson asked, “Do you have her cell phone? I’d like to see that text message she got.”
“No. I don’t know where it is. I was just looking for it myself, hoping her mother left a message letting her know where she took Joseph.”
“You don’t know where your
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