have sent them had to be downright scary. "Had the professor met any member of either group before he stepped into that room today?"
Bailey shrugged. "I'd have no way of knowing that."
"He didn't mention that he recognized anyone?"
"Not to me. But when you're as successful as Professor Smoker was in academia, you inspire professional jealousy, and everyone starts gunning for you. You make more enemies than you know what to do with." She slanted a hard look at me and sniffed. "Dorian Smoker had enemies crawling out of the woodwork on this ship, and you saw the end result. One of them killed him."
I sighed to myself. Another vacation, another body. This was getting really old.
"You mentioned you and the professor were going to peruse my journal," Tilly spoke up. "Do you have the journal with you?"
All color drained from Bailey's face as she stared at Tilly. "Oh, my God. I forgot about..." She cast a frantic look about the room before squeezing her eyes shut and patting the left side of her chest. "Professor Smoker had it with him. He...he didn't want to let it out of his sight, so he put it in the inside pocket of his jacket to keep it safe."
"And the jacket is...where?" Tilly inquired.
"He was wearing it when he was pushed overboard." Bailey swallowed slowly, like a boa constrictor trying to digest a house. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry! I've lost Professor Smoker. I've lost your journal. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" The floodgates finally opened. Sobs. Tears. Wailing.
I heard a rush of footsteps in the corridor and looked over my shoulder to find the nurse scurrying into the room. "I think visiting hours are over for now, ladies," she said quietly, circling the bed to tend to Bailey. We offered apologies and nods of sympathy before shuffling dutifully out the door, embarrassed that our visit had obviously made Bailey feel worse rather than better.
"You was right about the professor not fallin' on his own," Nana whispered to me. "Might be you'll be back in contention for that human-interest story in the Register. Awful shame about that poor Howard girl, though. Last time I seen someone cry that much was twenty years back, when our NBC affiliate preempted the Lake Winnibigoshish ice-fishin' championships for the local bowlin' league quarterfinals. Your grampa was awful upset about that."
Tilly leaned heavily on her walking stick, looking too dazed to put one foot in front of the other. "What if the journal wasn't a hoax? What if it was the real McCoy? Good Lord, I may have single-handedly robbed the academic world of its most significant historical document in decades."
Nana looped her arm around Tilly in a comforting gesture. "Don't you go frettin' now, Til. You put it in one a them zippered bags. Them things are real rugged. That's why we pay the big bucks for 'em. Probably keep your book dry as a bone."
Hope entered Tilly's face. "That's right. Ziploc bags lock in freshness like no other storage bag can." She squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine. "All is not lost, then. Thank you for reminding me of that, Marion. What do you say, ladies? Is it time to regroup in the cabin?"
"Before I forget, dear." Nana looked over both shoulders before motioning me closer, and saying in an undertone, "About that cybersex you and your young man was havin'. You mind if I take a peek at the instruction manual?"
We wended our way back through a maze of narrow passageways to the midship elevators. "Isn't this somethin'?" Nana remarked as we waited for one of the upper directional arrows to turn green. "Lookit how level the floor is. Would you ever guess we was in the middle of an ocean? How come we're not tiltin'?"
"Stabilizers," said Tilly. "These modern cruise ships are built to remain steady even in the most brutal seas. Given the improvements in naval technology, seasickness may soon go the way of the dinosaur, much to the dismay of the makers of Dramamine, Bonine, and Queasy Pops."
The elevator pinged to a stop. Nana and Tilly stood aside to let a couple of passengers off, then bustled forward to get the best places by the floor selection panel. Nana punched in a number before looking out the door at me. "You comin' with us, dear?"
"I gained a pound just sniffing the air in the Coconut Palms Cafe," I confessed, "so for the sake of my hips and thighs, I better take