Free Stowaway by Emma Bennett Page B

crossword. “Hey! He was
right. It’s federal.”
    I glance at my
phone. It’s early evening, almost dark. I need to get
moving.
    As soon as I
figure out how, I am going after Luke. I’m tired of hiding and going on the
offensive is my best bet.
    To start, I have
to find Luke. Then, I have to trap him. But, first things
first. Where would he be?
    I head down to the
crew quarters, with Mike trailing. He pops the door open for me and we step in. Nothing. No sign Luke has been here since we left this
morning, but the place has obviously been rummaged through by Brewster and
company. I sift through the remaining personal belongings, but find nothing
suspicious. To be truthful, there weren’t many personal affects here to begin
with. Luke lives sparsely, almost anonymously.
    He is nowhere to
be found among the crowds in the public spaces, either. Not tucked into a
lounge below deck, not poolside, not anywhere. He would be stupid to show
himself in a restricted crew area, since everyone is expecting him to be sick
or a person of interest to security. So, I’m at a loss.
    Mike and I are
sitting at the promenade bar when Rose walks up. I’m drinking water, again to
stay sharp. Mike splurged on something more expensive, made me pay and is now
trying to tie his leftover cherry stem into a knot with his tongue. He is
sulking silently, since I insisted his drink be non-alcoholic and won’t let him
talk with anyone. But, I can’t stop him with Rose.
    “Not one trick,” I
warn Mike, as he eyes her jewels and the collar around Sir Chipperley’s neck during their introduction. Mike whines, but nods his head in defeat, like
a little kid. I’m sure he resents my demand even more when Rose speaks to him.
    “Boy, you make a
racehorse look fat,” she tells him, after giving Mike a once-over look. “You need to get some meat on those bones before a stiff wind
blows you overboard.”
    Mike doesn’t
appear happy about the comment. Rose doesn’t appear to notice, or maybe she
just doesn’t care because she doesn’t like him either.
    “Yeah, well…”
    Mike never
finishes his retort, because he accidentally swallows and chokes on his stem
just then. I whack him on the back until he can breathe and then he resumes an
uneasy, but more pleasant conversation with our guest. However, it deteriorates
again quickly, and I realize I need to diffuse the situation after he asks Rose
how this voyage compares to her trip on the Ark.
    “Rose,” I
interrupt, desperate to change the subject. “If I wanted to hide something
rather large on a ship, where would I put it?”
    “How
large?”
    “As
big as, say a person.”
    “Hmmm. There’s an old fuel storage bin near the smokestack. It’s the only place I can
think of that isn’t constantly monitored by someone, because it’s not used anymore.”
    She laughs at some
memory and goes on to explain.
    “Once, a crew
member got mad and didn’t want to be found, so he holed up in that abandoned
bin for three days before they located him. He lived off stolen rum and after-dinner
mints. Why?”
    “It is a Luke
thing. I really don’t want to explain right now. So, can we get to this bin?”
    “The
musician? Listen, it’s restricted, but there is a crew stairway that
leads right up to that platform. Don’t worry, honey. We’ll get your things
back.”
    I look at Mike, then smile at Rose.
    “Great! Even
though it’s a crew zone, you can get us there, right? Let’s go.”
    Mike sighs at the
thought of forced exercise and sadly puts down his freshly refilled drink. Rose
leads on to show us the way.
    It is thoroughly
dark by the time we reach the platform. The moon and stars are obscured by
clouds. It is also extra windy tonight, so we’ve got to speak loudly just to
hear each other. It gets worse the higher up we go.
    “Rose, where did
you say there was an opening?”
    “Right up there.
I’m afraid you’re going to have to go without me. I can’t do ladders anymore.
But, it’s easy.