Free Dark Passage by Marcia Talley Page B

sympathetically.
    â€˜Friends? You could say that. She was my roommate.’
    Ouch! No wonder the tears. ‘What was Charlotte’s job on the
Voyager
?’ I asked gently. ‘Did she work for Channing, too?’
    Dry-eyed, Pia considered my question. ‘She was one of the youth counselors.’
    A cold ribbon of fear snaked up my back. Was
that
what was behind Pia’s warning to me earlier about keeping an eye on Julie? ‘Jesus,’ I croaked.
    â€˜Exactly.’

EIGHT
    â€˜ “Fake” is a technical term used by magicians to indicate something that the audience actually looks at but camouflaged or prepared to look like something else.’
    Jim Steinmeyer,
Hiding the Elephant
,
Da Capo, 2004, p. 234
    â€˜H ow do I look?’ Ruth wanted to know.
    The last time I’d seen the dress – a gold, gauzy, floor-length floral with leg-o-mutton sleeves – Ruth had been standing barefoot in a mountain meadow with daisy chains twined in her hair. ‘I’m surprised you kept the dress,’ I told her. ‘Once you got rid of Eric, one would think you’d want to get rid of everything that reminded you of the jerk.’
    â€˜Well,’ my sister said, twisting her body one way, then another in front of the mirror, then pausing to smooth the gown over her hips. ‘I divorced Eric, not the dress. Besides, it still fits.’
    â€˜Waste not, want not,’ I quoted.
    Ruth performed a pirouette, then faced me. ‘What are you going to wear to this reception thing?’
    I was already wearing my ‘uniform’ – the black crepe pants – but was sitting around in my bra being wishy-washy about what to wear on top. I’d laid three choices out on the coverlet, and asked Ruth for her advice. ‘Which one do
you
think?’
    Ruth considered my question carefully. ‘The red with the sequins. Definitely. And you have those crystal earrings to go with it.’
    Ruth had talked me into the earrings when we’d been browsing at the jewelry boutique on deck six, one of a cluster of shops behind the photo gallery, just off the atrium. We’d gone up to check out the photograph that had been taken of us when we boarded, one of hundreds arranged in slots on the wall. When we finally found it, we were amazed: all our eyes were open, so Ruth bought it. I had to pay for the earrings, of course.
    I slid the sequinned top on over my head and offered my back to Ruth so she could zip it up. I dug the earrings out of the bag in the top drawer and hung the beaded loops from my earlobes where they swung like chandeliers. ‘There!’ I said, presenting myself for inspection.
    Ruth slid an arm around my waist and hugged me close. ‘We’re quite the glamorous pair. Too bad Hutch and Paul aren’t here to enjoy the view.’
    I laughed, but I’d been missing my husband, too. After hearing what Pia had to say earlier that afternoon, I had wanted to discuss it with him. Paul always listened to my ravings calmly, helped talk me through them sensibly and, above all, logically. My sister tended to be more laissez-faire. She’d ridden many a bus to never-ever land during the Summer of Love.
    â€˜Do you think Georgina’s pissed off that I’m not taking her to the reception?’ I asked.
    â€˜Hell, no. You know how she is about cocktail parties. Rather than dress up, she’s decided to take Julie to dinner at the Firebird tonight. I think she’s feeling a bit guilty, like she’s neglecting Julie by letting her have the run of the ship.’
    Since my usual sounding board was back in Annapolis, and Ruth had kind of brought it up, I made her sit down on the sofa while I filled her in on what I’d learned from Pia Fanucci about Charlotte Warren.
    Ruth poo-poohed my concerns. ‘This Charlotte person was an
employee
of the cruise line, right, not one of the kids. Nothing happened to any of the kids on her