Rosette rolled her eyes, but joined her stringy spouse on deck. Beth and Earl followed hand in hand, leaving Mitzi behind. The poodle ran inside and squatted on the salon carpet.
“Better walk that dog before they come back,” Mira said. “Walk the dog” was the cleanup code. Helen got down on hands and knees to wipe up the dog pee, vowing to treat Thumbs to the finest catnip in Lauderdale and herself to a stiff drink when she was home.
“Come on out,” Mira said. “When the yacht docks, two stews have to be on deck to stand by the fenders and make sure they’re in place, in case something goes wrong.”
Helen was amazed how quickly and smoothly the Belted Earl was docked. She’d had a harder time parallel parking in downtown Lauderdale.
“I’ll meet you in the crew mess,” Mira said, “and help with the laundry.”
Mira was loading wet clothes into a dryer when Helen got there. The head stew looked annoyed. “Helen, why did you throw Pepper’s clothes in the laundry?”
“Just the jeans,” Helen said.
“Guests’ jeans are dry-cleaned,” Mira said, “unless they tell us otherwise.”
She held up Pepper’s jeans. They looked small. Helen hoped they hadn’t shrunk in the wash.
“Now I’ll have to take these to the Atlantis dry cleaner and hope they can be rescued,” Mira said. “You haven’t started any of the guests’ ironing.”
“I’ll fold laundry and iron now,” Helen said.
Helen’s radio squawked. “Missus wants to see you in the galley,” Suzanne said.
“Probably wants to talk about the dog,” Mira said. “When you get back, work on the laundry. Don’t forget to iron the guests’ underwear.”
Helen picked up Ralph’s stained, ragged tightie whities. “Even the holey underwear?”
“Guest underwear is always perfect, no matter what the condition,” Mira said, crisp as new cotton sheets. “Now run upstairs to the missus.”
Helen had lost count how many times she’d sprinted up and down those steps. Mitzi greeted her with a welcoming yap in the galley, while her mistress continued with Suzanne’s instructions.
“Scotty and Pepper are shopping,” Beth said. “The rest of us are going to stretch our legs. We’ll be back about eight thirty to dress for dinner at Nobu. You don’t have to worry about making dinner tonight, Suzanne. We’ll probably want something light when we return later this evening—actually, it will be more like tomorrow morning. The boys like to play poker until three or four.”
“How about lobster salad?” the chef asked.
“That will do for the girls, but the boys will want more meat.”
“I have enough Niman Ranch steaks.”
“Good. They never get tired of T-bones.”
“I’ll make fries,” Suzanne said.
“And onion rings,” Beth said. “They love your onion rings. Make enough for all the boys and Pepper. That little girl has a big appetite. Oh, and maybe a light dessert. That’s it. You don’t have to do anything else.”
Beth seemed oblivious that she’d given Suzanne orders for dinner for six people at three in the morning.
She turned to Helen. “Mitzi needs a walk. She had that little accident in the salon, but it’s all gone now, thanks to Auntie Helen.”
Great, Helen thought. I’m now a poodle’s relative.
“Our little Mitzi girl was so excited, she just couldn’t wait, could you, sweetie? Now it’s time to tinkle again.”
“Yap!” Mitzi said.
Beth handed the dog to Helen, as if presenting her a gift. Mitzi cuddled in Helen’s arms. “She likes you!” Beth said. “I can’t take Mitzi into Atlantis. They don’t allow dogs, not even sweet doggy-woggies like you, Mitzi. But Auntie Helen will take good care of you. Here’s her leash.”
Beth attached a work of art trimmed in Native American silver to the dog’s lapis and squash-blossom collar.
“Enjoy your walk, baby girl,” Beth said.
Mitzi yapped once, then licked Helen’s nose.
“You’re growing on me, fur face,” Helen said as she carried the little white dog off the yacht. On the dock, Mitzi stopped at every post and piling while Helen praised her. “Good dog,” she said. “The more you do here, the less work you make for me on the boat.”
Helen enjoyed watching the marina, swarming with white-uniformed crews. Deckhands with bulging calves and thighs carried cases of beer and booze aboard the yachts. A female crew member in khaki shorts trundled a cart piled with pineapples, lemons and bananas. Near the entrance, Helen saw a tall brown-haired man in white shorts and a polo shirt. He looked a lot like Carl, the Earl’s second-in-command. A slender woman gripped his arm.
“Come on, Mitzi,” Helen said, coaxing the poodle along the dock toward the pair. As she got closer, Helen saw that the man had the same lanky body as Carl. Ten feet closer and Helen stopped dead, Mitzi’s leash wrapped around her feet.
She knew that round, open face. She recognized those squint lines. It was Carl. But it couldn’t be. The first mate was on board with the captain and the Bulgarian engineer, wasn’t he?
No, that was definitely Carl, talking to a dark-skinned woman with cropped hair and clean-cut features. Her navy Ralph Lauren shirt and shorts were no crew uniform. She was somewhere in her twenties, but she wasn’t flirting. She handed Carl a black Prada backpack so heavy she nearly stumbled under its weight.
“Do what you can to get rid of them and don’t forget my share,” she said. “Be careful. This thing weighs a ton.”
“Not to me,” Carl said, buckling it onto his broad back. But he couldn’t manage his usual easygoing amble. Carl struggled to walk under this burden, and stopped in surprise when he saw Helen.
His greeting sounded like an accusation. “Escaped your yacht chores, I see,” he said.
“Nope. Got more work,” Helen said, holding up the leash. “I’m in charge of Mitzi this evening. We’re heading back now. Handsome backpack. Looks heavy. Do you need help with it?”
“Do I look so weak I can’t carry a little backpack?” Carl asked.
But it’s not a little backpack, Helen thought. It’s huge. And I want to know what makes it so heavy.
Carl wasn’t going to tell her. She changed the subject. “Are you surprised Louise jumped ship?”
“That’s what Mira claims,” he said. “The captain believes her, but I have my doubts. That fishing charter was too far away to have just left our boat. Besides, I know Louise. She’s not a quitter. Even if she was sick of being a stew, she’d want a good reference.”
“So where is she?” Helen said.
“I hope to God I’m wrong and she took that fishing charter,” Carl said. “Otherwise, she fell overboard.”
“Would she go out on deck during the storm?”
“Unlikely,” Carl said. “The wind was so bad I could hardly open the bridge hatch.”
“What are the chances of Louise surviving if she fell into the water?” Helen asked.
“None,” Carl said. “Zero. Nada.”
CHAPTER 24
Helen was the most popular crew member on the Belted Earl that night. She’d volunteered to take the twelve-hour watch that started at eight o’clock.
One crew member always had to be on board the Earl. Thanks to Helen, the rest could party after the owners and guests left for dinner. The crew needed that free time. They’d been tumbled around like clothes in a dryer last night, then spent the day cleaning, cooking and catering to the guests.
The crew cheered Helen and made extravagant promises.
“Can I bring you back a rum punch?” Sam asked.