flowered Hawaiian shirt and huge tufts of his gray chest hair sprouted from his collar. As Jillian studied his face, he stared at her wearing an odd expression.
"Don't I know you?" the man asked.
"I, uh..." Jillian narrowed her eyes, smiling. "You do look, um—"
"Where are you from?"
"Miami."
"We're from Nashville." He frowned turning to the old woman next to him. "Gladys where do we know her from?"
The man's wife looked Jillian over frowning then shook her head. "I really don't know."
A woman at the end of the table said, "Did you hear about what happened yesterday in the fitness center? A man was attacked."
"Did I hear about it?" Gladys scoffed. "It happened to my Marty."
Stunned, Jillian's jaw dropped open. "Oh my God."
"I know it's horrible." Gladys looked to Jillian. "You think you're safe on one of these ships, but you really aren't. Not at all."
"I couldn't sleep last night," Marty said.
As everyone else at the table gazed at him in sympathetic disbelief, Jillian closed her eyes. I'm on a ship with over four thousand people and somehow I'm sitting across from the guy I molested in the steam room… What the hell are the odds?
"I didn't sleep at all either," Gladys added.
Marty raised his hands up in defeat. "And get this they gave us a bottle of champagne and fifty dollars off our next cruise."
"Huh…" Jillian nodded. Victoria called it exactly right.
Marty frowned. "My son's an attorney and they're not getting off that easy."
Covering her face, the ship's secret molester cringed . Well, maybe Victoria wasn't exactly right.
"Do they have any suspects?" A man at the table asked.
"They're not saying, but they had me working with a sketch artist yesterday and they said that they were going to put all their men on it."
"Have you seen their men?" A man said as he rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm not too hopeful."
"I was in the bathroom next to the locker room when all this happened, but I didn't see anything. I really wish I could've helped." George put his hand over his stomach. "Had a little touch of the stomach flu yesterday."
With her hand shaking slightly, Jillian lifted her cup of coffee to her lips and took a sip.
"Don't worry about it." Marty shook his head. "I looked into the monsters eyes and I'll never, ever forget them. He'd better stay in his hole because I'm certain that I could identify him instantly."
As Jillian placed her cup back down, she put it on the edge of the saucer, it tumbled over and spilled all over the table. "Oh, sorry. I'm so…" Reaching for her napkin, she knocked over her orange juice and it spilled in her lap. She jumped to her feet and all eyes went to her.
George handed her his napkin. "Jillian, are you okay? You look pale."
"Suddenly, I, uh… I don't feel so good."
"Maybe you should lie down."
"Yeah, maybe." She stepped back from the table. "Please excuse me."
"Should I go with you, or…?" George asked, hesitantly.
"No, you stay. I'll be okay."
13
As Jillian rushed out of the dining room, she spotted a crew member taping a white sheet of paper to the wall. Shaking her head confused, she pressed the button for the elevator. Then she turned back and tried to see what was on the flyer, but the crew member was blocking her view.
The elevator door opened and she quickly pressed the button for the eleventh floor. Looking to her left, she spotted a copy of the flyer and her eyes bugged out of her head. It was a sketch of a hooded person, and the face looked a little like hers. "Oh, shit!"
Under the sketch the flyer read:
A ONE THOUSAND DOLLAR REWARD IS BEING OFFERED TO ANYONE WHO CAN IDENTIFY THIS HOODED INDIVIDUAL SEEN LEAVING THE MEN'S LOCKER ROOM AT 11:58 A.M. ON WEDNESDAY. ANYONE WITH INFORMATION SHOULD COMMUNICATE IT DIRECTLY TO THE SECURITY OFFICE.
Jillian stood frozen with her eyes glazing over as she looked directly at her wanted poster. Never did she imagine that her face would grace one. She mumbled under her breath, "Thank you
"Don't I know you?" the man asked.
"I, uh..." Jillian narrowed her eyes, smiling. "You do look, um—"
"Where are you from?"
"Miami."
"We're from Nashville." He frowned turning to the old woman next to him. "Gladys where do we know her from?"
The man's wife looked Jillian over frowning then shook her head. "I really don't know."
A woman at the end of the table said, "Did you hear about what happened yesterday in the fitness center? A man was attacked."
"Did I hear about it?" Gladys scoffed. "It happened to my Marty."
Stunned, Jillian's jaw dropped open. "Oh my God."
"I know it's horrible." Gladys looked to Jillian. "You think you're safe on one of these ships, but you really aren't. Not at all."
"I couldn't sleep last night," Marty said.
As everyone else at the table gazed at him in sympathetic disbelief, Jillian closed her eyes. I'm on a ship with over four thousand people and somehow I'm sitting across from the guy I molested in the steam room… What the hell are the odds?
"I didn't sleep at all either," Gladys added.
Marty raised his hands up in defeat. "And get this they gave us a bottle of champagne and fifty dollars off our next cruise."
"Huh…" Jillian nodded. Victoria called it exactly right.
Marty frowned. "My son's an attorney and they're not getting off that easy."
Covering her face, the ship's secret molester cringed . Well, maybe Victoria wasn't exactly right.
"Do they have any suspects?" A man at the table asked.
"They're not saying, but they had me working with a sketch artist yesterday and they said that they were going to put all their men on it."
"Have you seen their men?" A man said as he rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm not too hopeful."
"I was in the bathroom next to the locker room when all this happened, but I didn't see anything. I really wish I could've helped." George put his hand over his stomach. "Had a little touch of the stomach flu yesterday."
With her hand shaking slightly, Jillian lifted her cup of coffee to her lips and took a sip.
"Don't worry about it." Marty shook his head. "I looked into the monsters eyes and I'll never, ever forget them. He'd better stay in his hole because I'm certain that I could identify him instantly."
As Jillian placed her cup back down, she put it on the edge of the saucer, it tumbled over and spilled all over the table. "Oh, sorry. I'm so…" Reaching for her napkin, she knocked over her orange juice and it spilled in her lap. She jumped to her feet and all eyes went to her.
George handed her his napkin. "Jillian, are you okay? You look pale."
"Suddenly, I, uh… I don't feel so good."
"Maybe you should lie down."
"Yeah, maybe." She stepped back from the table. "Please excuse me."
"Should I go with you, or…?" George asked, hesitantly.
"No, you stay. I'll be okay."
13
As Jillian rushed out of the dining room, she spotted a crew member taping a white sheet of paper to the wall. Shaking her head confused, she pressed the button for the elevator. Then she turned back and tried to see what was on the flyer, but the crew member was blocking her view.
The elevator door opened and she quickly pressed the button for the eleventh floor. Looking to her left, she spotted a copy of the flyer and her eyes bugged out of her head. It was a sketch of a hooded person, and the face looked a little like hers. "Oh, shit!"
Under the sketch the flyer read:
A ONE THOUSAND DOLLAR REWARD IS BEING OFFERED TO ANYONE WHO CAN IDENTIFY THIS HOODED INDIVIDUAL SEEN LEAVING THE MEN'S LOCKER ROOM AT 11:58 A.M. ON WEDNESDAY. ANYONE WITH INFORMATION SHOULD COMMUNICATE IT DIRECTLY TO THE SECURITY OFFICE.
Jillian stood frozen with her eyes glazing over as she looked directly at her wanted poster. Never did she imagine that her face would grace one. She mumbled under her breath, "Thank you
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