culture of the Sandwich Islands and for contaminating every South Sea island he set foot on. They claim he introduced disease and political strife and created social unrest where none existed. They're happy to tell you that because of Captain James Cook, the Sandwich Islands lost their true identity. According to Percy and Basil, they would have done a much better job of preserving the culture."
"Get you something from the bar?" the bartender asked as he approached our table. "Beer nuts? Popcorn?"
Duncan waved him off, looking as if he could easier stick pins in his eyes than entertain any thought of snack food. He backhanded a line of sweat from his upper lip and shifted position on the couch.
"Are you sure you feel okay?" I asked skeptically.
"Maybe I'm a little queasy," he confessed. "Too much Tabasco in my Bloody Mary."
Right. He was a little queasy like some women were a little pregnant. "Duncan, maybe you shouldn't be here tonight. I wouldn't mind taking another rain --"
"So you met Percy and Basil," he cut me off, twining my fingers with his. "What did you think of them? Entertaining, huh?"
I frowned at his question. "Why does the name Broomhead sound familiar to me? I know I've heard it before, but I can't remember in what context. Did he invent something, or sue someone, or get his name in the Guinness Book of World Records for some oddball reason?"
Duncan shrugged. "I think Basil is related to some famous Englishman, but don't ask me who. I try not to listen when they start dragging out the family crests. It gets to be so overblown." He drew my hand to his mouth and kissed each of my fingertips, causing darts of electricity to needle my arm. "I'll tell you what, the next time I see him, I'll inquire."
"Would now be too soon?" I checked the time. "It's not too late. He might still be up."
A pause. "Are you serious? Now?"
"If it's not too much trouble."
He fixed me with a puzzled look. "Just so you know, neither Basil nor Percy was at dinner this evening. I suspect that means they may both be incapacitated, in which case, I'm not going to make the mistake of disturbing them."
Incapacitated...or gone? Now there was an intriguing concept. Had they gotten out of Dodge before anyone could shake them down about Professor Smoker's death? Could they have missed dinner not because of illness but because they were no longer aboard the ship? Euw, boy. "Were you on the same excursion as Percy and Basil today?"
He shook his head. "I haven't seen them since last night. I took a big group to Smith's Tropical Paradise today. I don't know what they did."
Gears started grinding in my head. Could they have gone back to the Secret Falls in search of another windfall? Had they found something again today? Or had something or some one found them first?
The dead body on the trail loomed large in my thoughts as we plunged into a trough and bucked out again. I grabbed my margarita and steadied it as the floor slid up and down. Back and forth. Left and right. Twitching my mouth at the annoyance, I stared hard at Duncan. "Okay, here's the thing. What would you say if I told you that Basil Broomhead and Percy Woodruffe-Peacock have created a hit parade of --"
"I'msorryEmily," he choked, clapping his hands over his mouth. As we belly flopped into another trough, Duncan raced across the floor and ripped through the doorway like an Iowa twister, leaving me to stare dumbly after him.
No! He couldn't leave! We hadn't even touched on the important stuff yet. What about my upgrade? My flowers? My proposal? I NEEDED TO KNOW! Was it him or Etienne?
Damn. Pouting at my missed opportunity, I raised my glass into the air to signal the bartender for a refill. I should have known better than to insert murder into the conversation.
I'd been way too subtle.
The computer room was tucked away on deck four, opposite the business/copy center and conference rooms. I staggered left and right as I negotiated the corridor, my steps governed by the pitch and yaw of the bucking ship and not, I told myself, by the two margaritas I'd polished off in the last half hour. Reaching the computer room entrance, I grabbed the doorframe to steady myself and peeked inside.
It was a small interior room whose banks of overhead lights looked down on four rows of buffet-size tables equipped with