Carol Higgins Clark - Decked

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright 1992 by Carol Higgins Clark

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Grand Central Publishing

Hachette Book Group

237 Park Avenue

New York, NY 10017

Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

First eBook Edition: May 2008

ISBN: 978-044-653712-4

PRAISE FOR CAROL HIGGINS CLARK AND

DECKED

Lively... Clark deftly ties the plot playing out on the ocean liner to Athenas murder in a suspenseful climax.

Publishers Weekly

A wealthy clientele who act differently from you and me in a deliciously revealed way. There are scoundrels, an interesting murder to solve, and the typical sharks swarming around the jewelry of the fabulously wealthy. It all makes for a good tale.

Lincoln Journal Star

A caper novel... a funny, light summers read.

Hartford Courant

Enjoyable... her sense of humor carries the day.

Greensboro News & Record

A superb mystery writer... A sleuth who finds herself finagled into a luxury cruise across the Atlantic with a very difficult elderly lady... Shades of Nick and Nora and the other greats of the stylish thirties and forties.

Washington Times

Intriguing details... chock full of sarcasm and wit... her characters are eccentric, loving, brave, and suave... This fast-paced story is great escape reading, perfect for a lazy day at the beach.

Palm Beach Daily News

Lots of humor and a brightness that makes the story sparkle from beginning to end.

Ocala Star Banner

A glamorous settinga cruise shipand eccentric characters... Regan is a good charactera strong, intelligent young woman with a good sense of humor.

Arkansas Democrat-Gazette

Carol Higgins Clark tells a fast-paced, suspenseful story, with never a dull moment and a refreshing sense of humor.

Mostly Murder

BOOKS BY CAROL HIGGINS CLARK

Decked

Snagged

Iced

Twanged

Fleeced

Jinxed

Popped

Burned

Hitched

Laced

Deck the Halls

(with Mary Higgins Clark)

He Sees You When Youre Sleeping

(with Mary Higgins Clark)

The Christmas Thief

(with Mary Higgins Clark)

Santa Cruise (with Mary Higgins Clark)

For my mother, Mary Higgins Clark, and in memory of my father, Warren F. Clark,

with love.

Old and young we are all on our last cruise.

Robert Louis Stevenson

PROLOGUE

FRIDAY, APRIL 23

OXFORD, ENGLAND

A THENA RAN BLINDLY down the dark country lane, her breath coming in short, harsh gasps. Her school jacket with the St. Polycarps logo sewn on the pocket was no protection against the sudden drenching spring rain. The knapsack strapped to her body impeded her flight. It did not occur to her to discard it.

As the bewildering shock began to wear off, she desperately told herself she was a fool to have come this way. The Oxford police station was so much nearer. Minutes ago she would have reached safety there.

The wet, uneven road was becoming more visible. Trees heavily burdened with thick dripping leaves were no longer silhouettes but three-dimensional objects that beckoned to her.

A car was coming from behind. Athena shrank to the side, instinctively sensing that she must not be seen.

Headlights froze on her. The car raced forward, crunched to a stop inches from her feet. The door opened.

Her fingers fumbled to release the knapsack as she started to run again. Sobs caught in her throat. She heard the footsteps gaining on her.

Nono. Just turned twenty-one, she was finally free to live on her own. She couldnt die now. Her fresh burst of speed granted her another hundred yards before hands found her throat.

FRIDAY, JUNE 19, TEN YEARS LATER

AT SEA

G AVIN GRAY HURRIED down the hallway, crashing into one handrail and then the other as he struggled to keep his balance. If I werent on a ship, Id think I was drunk, he mumbled. But he didnt care. His adrenaline was pumping so much he felt light-headed. Another reason to bounce off the walls.

The ocean liner he was sailing on, a magnificent floating city, had hit rocky seas tonight. It would be another day and a half before they docked in Southampton, England. Not soon enough, he thought as he lunged his way to the safety of his cabin. He couldnt wait to see land again, and the weather theyd experienced during this crossing had nothing to do with it.

He had already spent enough time on this mammoth vessel playing the genial host. Let them find someone else to make an idiot out of himself doing the cha-cha. No more black and blue marks for me, he cackled under his breath.

On these long transatlantic crossings, there was always an abundance of unescorted females. Hoping to help even the odds, the cruise line had hired him as a sixty-two-year-old hosta roving companion who would be only too willing to whisk them off onto the dance floor and suffer the brutality of their aimless kicks.

Just this morning he had been teaching the polka to an enthusiastic octogenarian wearing black bulky shoes. They were like gunboats hinged on her thick ankles, targeted for his luckless feet. Gavin winced when he thought of it. Stomping on someones foot was supposed to be a form of self-defense, not a recreational activity.

Reaching his cabin door, he slipped his key into the polished brass keyhole and sighed in grateful relief. He sat down on his bed, lay back, and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Funny how these cabins are so much smaller than the way they appear in the brochures, Gavin thought. Really funny for the poor slobs shelling out thousands to park their behinds on these bunks for a dreamy week at sea. Victims of trick photography.

He turned and looked at the digital clock next to his bed. Eleven thirty-two P.M. Should he go to the casino and get a nightcap? Be seen? Charm any of the single ladies still awake? He certainly could use a brandy to calm his nerves. No, he finally decided, he had better not. Most people had retired to their rooms early tonight, the stormy seas, not Mr. Sandman, being the reason.

No, Ill just stay here, he whispered to himself. He had had enough excitement for one night.

He couldnt believe his luck. Just as he was heading out of the Lancelot Bar hed run into old Mrs. Watkins. Sweet unassuming Beatrice Watkins with her splashy jewels and liquored breath.

For days, shed made no secret of the fact that she was very alone in the palatial Camelot Suite. There was no need for trick photography when capturing the essence of that little home-away-from-home. It boasted a living room, a sunken bedroom, two baths and a private terrace which afforded an exclusive view of the sea and sky that one could enjoy at any hour of the day or night, a perfect setting for romance. Gavin wondered if Mrs. Watkins had gotten lucky yet. She flirted unabashedly with everyone. Slipping the busboys her room number wrapped in hundred-dollar bills. Plying the hosts with champagne as if it were water. Even the Captain wasnt immune.