I met a charming widower on my first cruise and started believing in second chances. On the final night, I followed him below deck and discovered something with my name on it.
“What is happening?”
Richard’s hand tightened around my arm.
The alarm kept pulsing through the corridor.
“Margaret, please.”
“No.”
I pulled free.
I pointed at the bed.
“My scarf is in your room. My suitcase is outside your door. You have photographs of me from before we even met.”
His face changed.
Not guilt exactly.
Something worse.
Fear.
“For once in your life,” I said, “do not tell me to trust you.”
Richard looked toward the hallway.
Then back at me.
“Someone went into your cabin.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“About 20 minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You don’t know?”
“The person used a copied keycard.”
I stared at him.
“How do you know that?”
He glanced at the photographs.
That was when I noticed something I had missed.
They were not all pictures of me.
In several, someone else appeared near the edge.
A man in a blue baseball cap.
In one photograph, he was standing behind me at embarkation.
In another, he was two tables away at breakfast.
In a third, he was near the elevators while I waited alone.
I pointed.
“Who is he?”
Richard didn’t answer quickly enough.
The alarm stopped.
A voice came over the ship’s speakers.
“Attention, guests. The security alert has been resolved. Please remain in public guest areas until further notice.”
Security alert.
Not fire.
Not drill.
Security.
Richard exhaled.
Then said, “Sit down.”
“I am not sitting in your cabin until you tell me why you’ve been photographing me.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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