I wondered how many times he’d have to repeat that before it finally sank in.
“Do you have any idea what?” asked Woody, who’d obviously been tuned out when Dick Teig had posed the same question twice before. Either that, or his hearing was being affected by the jingle of Virginia Martin’s jewelry and the whooshing from Victor’s oxygen. Maybe next time, he’d think twice before shoehorning himself between them on a sofa.
Choosing not to respond to Woody’s question, Rob continued. “So here’s what’s going to happen. While the police in Abilene conduct their investigation, the French police will question a few of you to see if you can provide any new information about Ms. Cake’s activities before she died.”
“But the police already questioned us,” protested Dawna.
Rob shot her a sympathetic look. “That’s before they reclassified Krystal’s death as a homicide.”
“Which lucky few get to be harassed?” cackled Bernice.
“They’re compiling the list now, so they should be ready to conduct interviews after dinner. To speed the process along, they’ve requested that all guests return to their cabins after they’ve finished dining this evening, so if you hear a knock on your cabin door, please answer it, because it’ll be the police.”
“How are they deciding who needs to be interviewed?” asked Cal.
“I can’t offer you any more information than I’ve already given you. All I can tell you is, be cooperative, and if all goes well, we should be able to leave for Vernon on schedule.” He glanced at his watch. “Any more questions before I cut you loose?”
Margi stuck her hand in the air. “Will we be issued refunds if we’re arrested for murder?”
KREEEooo! Bzzt … bzzzt … “Ladies and gentlemen, the dining room is now open.”
Rob swept his hand toward the door. “Bon appétit.”
I braced myself for the stampede, shocked when nothing happened. Guests continued to sit in their chairs, looking a bit rattled and not at all anxious to file into the dining room. I guess they figured the quicker they finished dinner, the sooner they’d be treated to an evening of scintillating dialogue with the French police. Even my guys were dragging their feet. They should have been long gone by now, but instead they were slowly easing themselves out of their chairs, chatting each other up, and being just plain pokey. All except Osmond, who spotted me and Jackie in the far corner and waved his arm over his head to indicate he was heading in our direction. I knew exactly what he wanted, and my heart ached knowing what I was going to have to tell him.
“Have you heard from Madeleine yet?” He inched close to me and cupped his hand around his mouth. “I didn’t want to ask in front of everyone earlier.”
“As a matter of fact, I have heard from her.”
“No kidding?”
I gave Jackie the eye. “Do you want to run ahead and find a table?”
She gave me a thumbs up. “I’ll save you a seat. And by the way, I checked into the ship’s seat-saving policy.” She cranked her mouth into a peevish slant. “There is no policy. Bobbi Benedict made it all up. So I hope she gives me flak again tonight, because I just happen to be packing something that’s going to shut her up forever.”
“Please tell me you’re not carrying pepper spray.”
She began rooting around in the side pocket of her shoulder bag. “Too volatile. The slightest shift in the wind and your mascara gets relocated from your lashes to your cheeks.”
“Stun gun?”