Free This Girl for Hire by G. G. Fickling

squandered his weighty load on two bar stools, spilling over both. Ann Claypool was providing most of the entertainment with a rock-and-roll version of the bump and grind.
    Ann was dancing on top of the bar and her wiggle was a smash hit. All she wore was a blue denim yachting cap. The headdress looked familiar. It had theword CAPTAIN sewn across the front. Sam Aces had been wearing that cap earlier, but there was no sign of the producer. There was no sign of Bob Swanson either.
    Joe Meeler seemed to be the only sober one in the place. I asked him about Aces.
    â€œLast thing I know,” Joe said, trying to talk above the din, “Swanson and Aces took off for a little stroll around the deck. Lord, you woulda’ thought they were a couple of queers, they were so palsy-walsy.”
    â€œHave you seen Lori Aces?” I asked.
    â€œSure,” Joe said. “She came back with the camera crew late this afternoon. They had one helluva time in this storm, believe you me.”
    When I got back to the edge of the pool, even Rod Caine was gone. I started for Aces’ cabin. This looked bad. Swanson was out for a promenade with Sam while Rod Caine was rendezvousing with Lori.
    I suddenly felt as ridiculous as a jockey seeing his horse break from the starting gate and finding with horror he’s still in the chute.
    I banged on the producer’s cabin door. There were no lights on inside and the door was locked. I ran forward, hammering on doors, trying knobs. One opened and I entered hurriedly. The bed was occupied by two-bit players scrambled together like two crisp pieces of bacon fried into an egg. They didn’t even look up. I raced out. The wind was rising again and so was the sea. Whitecaps crackled in the churning water below. I wondered if Sam Aces were down there.
    There was a light in my cabin. I opened thedoor. Aces was sprawled across my bed, legs and arms hanging limply over each side. My heart sank to my knees. I stepped inside and slammed the door.
    Aces sat up, stretched, yawned and peered at me. “Where you been, Honey?” he asked. “I been worried about you.”
    â€œSam, I thought you were dead! Where’s Swanson?”
    â€œYou got me,” Aces said, grinding to his feet. “We got to be as thick as thieves in the bar. Then he suggested we take a walk. I didn’t like the sound of that, but I went along. When we got out on deck, I don’t know whether it was the ship pitching or old B. S. pushing, but I damn near went over the railing. That’s when we quit being friends.”
    â€œHow’d you get in here?”
    Aces tried to shake some of the whiskey out of his cranium. “I don’t know exactly. I remembered your gun and that’s about all I remember until now. What time is it, anyway?”
    â€œAbout two o’clock.”
    â€œHow’d you get back to the ship?”
    I told him the whole story, including the part about Lori’s picture in Rod Caine’s drawer.
    â€œYou mean that son-of-a-B is aboard my ship?” Aces roared.
    â€œSomeplace,” I said. “I lost him in the shuffle. But I got a hunch where we might find him.”
    We headed for the swimming pool. Wind and rain swept the decks wildly, pushing us around like paper dolls. Rod was sitting at the barwith Lori.
    Aces waded over with me and grabbed Rod by the arm.
    â€œGet out of here, Caine! Get off this ship before I throw you off!”
    Rod didn’t ruffle a feather. He gently lifted Sam’s hand away and said, “Now, that isn’t being very hospitable, is it, Mr. Aces? Is that all the thanks I get for bringing your blonde bombshell back to her base?”
    â€œDon’t do me any favors, Caine. I don’t need your kind of help. Now get out of here!”
    Lori tried to intercede. “Sammy, please! Rod saved Miss West’s life. Let’s let bygones be bygones.”
    â€œNo!” Aces roared.
    His voice barely caused