Never Say Never (8 page)

This man would be the perfect one to have a shipboard romance with. . .if he weren't the captain. . .and if she were ready for such a thing. “I've really enjoyed the cruise, especially the time I've spent with you.”

“Charlotte, tell me about your husband.”

His question startled her. What could she tell him about Philip? “He was in the military when we got married. A helicopter pilot. Chelle was a baby when he was sent to the Middle East. Philip made medical evacuations and was used in rescue operations. I worried about him all the time, but he came through that without a scratch.” She glanced at Gareth and noticed his rapt attention to what she was saying. “He went to the police academy when he got out of the service. He loved helping people. Many of the officers had second jobs to supplement their incomes. Philip sold insurance, again because he believed it helped people.” Her leg started tingling as if it was going to sleep, so she thrust one foot out in front of her and tapped it on the floor. “He had never had even a close encounter with disaster until that night a year ago.” She stopped to swallow the lump in her throat.

Gareth's hand covered hers. “You don't have to go on, if you don't want to.”

“It's okay.” She turned over the hand under his until their palms were facing, interlacing her fingers with his. “I couldn't believe that he had been in such dangerous professions, but he was killed on the safe job.”

Gareth shifted closer. “Selling insurance?”

Charlotte laughed. “No. He was coming home from the insurance office after staying until two in the morning doing paperwork. He stopped to help a stranded motorist on the freeway, and a drunk driver hit and killed him.”

He pulled his hand free and gently gathered her into his arms. “I'm sorry. We've both had to face hard times.”

She nodded against his comforting chest. “I know. That's why I don't want to become too close to anyone again. It hurts too much to lose them.” But she was very close to Gareth right now, and it felt good.

❧

Gareth felt the moment her stiffness relaxed, and he tightened his embrace. “I know. Losing Britte was too hard.” His breath stirred her dark curls, tickling his cheek, but he didn't try to move away.

Finally, he sat back and lifted his head. “You do know that something is happening between us, don't you?”

Charlotte pulled away and leaned down, slowly working her high-heeled sandals onto her feet. “It can't be. That part of my life is over. . . . Never. . .” Her voice drifted off into nothingness.

“Maybe I should go back to my cabin.” She looked at her wristwatch. “It's getting pretty late. It's not really fair to give Chelle a curfew and then get to the cabin so much later myself.”

Gareth stood then pulled her to her feet. “Okay.” He turned her to face him and kept his hands on her shoulders. “I'm not sorry for what is happening.” He kissed the end of her pert nose. “I'm not going to push you for more than you can give, but I want a relationship with you, even if it's only as a friend.”

She let out a relieved sigh. “Yes, I want us to be friends.”

Gareth wasn't going to let her go to her cabin alone. He didn't care what anyone else thought. He would escort her to her door.

They strolled down the hallway and took the elevator to deck three. Then they walked two-thirds of the way along the length of that hallway, making small talk as they went.

“I want to be quiet, so I don't wake Chelle,” Charlotte whispered as she slipped her key card in and out of the slot. She pushed the handle down and the door swept open.

Gareth glanced into the stateroom. All the lights were on, but no one was there. “Do you want me to make sure everything is all right?”

“She's probably just in the bathroom.” Charlotte tapped on the closed door.

Nothing.

“Chelle, are you in there?” Charlotte paused then opened the door.

The bathroom was empty.

Fear shot through Charlotte's expression and settled into her eyes. “Where can she be?”

Gareth had to stop himself from laughing. “She has to be on the ship. We're a long way from land.”

She turned toward him and took hold of his lapels. “Gareth, I told her to not stay out late. By now, the only thing going on is gambling or night clubbing, right?”

“Or she could be up on the pool deck.”

“We have to find her.” Charlotte wasn't far from hysteria as she rushed out the door.

Eight

Gareth quickly closed the door to the cabin and caught up with Charlotte before she reached the lobby that contained the closest bank of elevators. He took her by the shoulders. “You need to calm down. You don't want to get Chelle, or anyone else, upset.” He crushed her against his chest and rubbed her back. “It's going to be okay. She's probably trying to assert her independence. Isn't that what teenagers do?”

Charlotte sobbed once then pulled back. “You're right. I just can't lose her, too.”

He leaned down until his face was even with hers. “You are not going to lose her tonight.” Charlotte was so upset, he decided it would better to get crewmembers to search for Chelle.

After he guided her to the elevator, he punched the button for deck five. They exited the car, and he hurried Charlotte around the Centrum to the Purser's office. Two staff members manned the front desk, but he didn't stop to talk to them. He pulled Charlotte around the tall counter and through the doorway behind it. When he reached Doug's office, he stuck his head in. One of the assistant pursers was on duty.

“Do you know where Doug is?”

The young woman didn't bat an eye, even though he couldn't ever remember being in this area of the ship when she was on duty. “He said he planned to watch a movie tonight.”

When they reached the purser's quarters, Gareth knocked on the door. “Doug, are you decent? I have someone with me.”

“Be there in a minute.” Gareth could barely hear the answer through the well-insulated wall.

Doug finally opened the door while still tucking in his T-shirt. He scanned Gareth's face, then looked beyond him to Charlotte and pulled the door open wider. “Come in. I had to pick up a little of the clutter before I opened the door.”

Gareth was sure he had. His friend wasn't a slob, but he also wasn't Mister Neatnik. “We have a little problem. Can we sit down and talk about it?” Hoping the relaxed atmosphere would calm some of Charlotte's fears, he guided her to the sofa.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” Doug asked while he clicked off the TV.

“No.” Charlotte's word was a whisper. She cleared her throat. “No, thank you.”

Doug took a seat on his bed and glanced from one of them to the other. “What's the problem?”

Gareth answered before Charlotte could. He hoped he could keep everything calmer that way. “Charlotte's daughter should be in her room, but she isn't. Can you get two or three of your best people, who can search for her without causing a stir, and send them out?”

“Sure.” Doug went to his desk and pulled a notebook toward him. He picked up his phone and punched three buttons. “Tell Manuel, Aretha, and Reuben that I want to see them. . . .” He turned toward Gareth and covered the mouthpiece. “In your quarters?” When Gareth nodded, he told the person on the other end of the line.

Gareth took Charlotte's hand in his. “They will be discreet. Let's go up to the apartment and wait for them.”

After they stood, Gareth held his hand out to Doug. “Thank you.”

“I'm coming right behind you.” His friend reached for his uniform shirt and thrust his arms in.

❧

Charlotte felt as though she were in a daze while Gareth led her to his quarters. She didn't notice anything about the parts of the ship they passed.

When they arrived, Marilyn stood in the doorway of her husband's apartment. “Is there anything I can do? Maybe bring something to eat or drink?”

Charlotte looked at Gareth, and he nodded. “That would be nice.”

Marilyn brought a tray over almost before Charlotte was settled on the couch. Doug came in behind her, followed by three other crewmembers. He quickly crossed the room and perched on the edge of the sofa beside Charlotte.

“Do you have a picture of your daughter we can show our people? Or should we look in the photo shop?”

“I think I have one here.” Charlotte pulled the chain handle of her small purse from her shoulder. She had almost forgotten it was there. She rummaged in her wallet until she found Chelle's school picture. That was the only one she had. She handed it to the purser.

Doug stood and gave it to one of the people waiting by the door. “Each of you should look closely at this. Memorize the girl's features, then search the ship. Spread out and don't miss a single place that's open to passengers.” He looked at the one female in the group. “Aretha, you take another woman you can trust with you, and check every women's restroom and dressing room on the ship. One of you can stay outside the door and watch the corridors while the other one goes in. That way if she walks by, you won't miss her.”

He turned toward Charlotte. “Can they take this picture with them?”

Charlotte nodded. “Shouldn't I go, too?”

Gareth placed a hand on her shoulder. “We need to keep you in one place, so whoever finds her will know where to bring her.”

When the crewmembers left, the purser went with them.

Marilyn set the tray on the table in front of the couch. “Here's coffee, iced tea, cookies, even ice water. What can I get for you?”

Charlotte knew that if she ate anything, it would catch on the lump in her throat. “I am thirsty. Maybe some water.”

Marilyn put ice cubes into a tall goblet. They tinkled against the glass, making tiny musical sounds. Charlotte recognized that the container must be crystal.
What funny things you think about when you're trying not to be upset.

After she gave the glass to Charlotte, Marilyn turned to Gareth. “Do you want me to stay here, or should I get a cabin steward for you?”

Gareth looked down at Charlotte. “Which would you prefer?” How like him to be so caring.

“I'd appreciate Marilyn's company. . .if she wants to stay.”

“Okay, I'll join the search.”

In one way, Charlotte was glad, but in another, she wished he would stay with her. She didn't really know what she wanted. . . except for Chelle to be all right. What if she fell overboard? If she were with other teenagers and they did something stupid, it could happen. They might be afraid of getting into trouble, and maybe they wouldn't have told anyone. . . . All these wild thoughts were making her crazy.

Marilyn sat beside her on the couch. She patted Charlotte's clasped hands. “I know you're probably imagining all kinds of things that could've happened to your daughter. Don't. Let's not think about the bad things. Let's believe that God is taking care of her, and she'll be with us very soon. Can I pray with you?”

Charlotte agreed. Why hadn't she thought about praying? Because she hadn't really turned to God for anything since He let Philip die. She had attended church, but she was just going through the motions because she wanted Chelle to be involved. Was God trying to get her attention?
Oh God, please don't take Chelle away from me, too.

❧

When Gareth arrived in Doug's office, the search party was dividing the ship into sectors for each of them to cover. Gareth and Doug took decks nine, ten, and eleven. They went in opposite directions when they stepped off the elevator near the front of deck nine. That way, they could cover twice as much area. Gareth walked through the Oceanic Grille, even though it had been closed for hours. The band playing in front of the bar near the outside pool almost deafened him. The people who liked to party late into the night were also the ones who made the most noise. He met Doug in front of the solarium.

“So you didn't find her in the pools or whirlpools?”

Doug shook his head. “You know they're reserved for adults.”

“I have a feeling this teenager thinks she is an adult.”

They quickly climbed the stairs that led to the jogging track that ringed deck ten. Instead of going different ways, they walked together this time. Gareth almost expected to see the girl trying to rappel on the climbing wall. He remembered Charlotte saying she had told her not to try it. But thankfully, she wasn't back there, especially since no crewmember would be there to help her at this time of night.

After rounding the prow of deck ten, the two men climbed the stairs that led to the Oyster Shell. When the glass doors slid open, loud voices interspersed with equally loud disco music poured out and surrounded the men as they entered the room. Gareth didn't like to come up here at night. He never had been one to go to nightclubs, even before he became a Christian.

A constant pulse of variegated strobe lights bathed the dance floor and nearby tables of the dimly lit room. Gyrating bodies crowded the hardwood floor under a rotating mirror ball. Gareth scanned the room, looking especially at the face of every female with long dark curls.
There she is. . . . Her mother won't be happy to see her.

Chelle wore a much too sophisticated, and much too revealing, electric blue dress. With her hair up and heavy makeup, she looked almost as old as her mother did. Of course, Charlotte looked very young for her age. Maybe Chelle hadn't been drinking. Gareth wondered if anyone would ask for her ID before she was served, since she looked more than old enough to drink. However, while it was ship's policy not to serve alcohol to minors, it was not strictly illegal when they were out to sea.

He pulled Doug back through the doorway, so they could converse and hear each other. “She's in there.”

Doug frowned. “I didn't see any teens.”

“She doesn't look like a teen.” Gareth nodded his head toward the dance floor. “See the woman in the bright blue dress?” She had her head thrown back and was doing a twisting, shimmying dance—one that had the eyes of every man in the room glued to her. It left little to the imagination.

“That's Mrs. Halloran's daughter?” Doug's eyes almost popped out of his head. “I never would have recognized her from this picture. It's a good thing we were the ones to search up here.”

Gareth had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't look forward to the rest of the evening. Charlotte would be upset and hurt, and he didn't want to be the bearer of the bad news, but it couldn't be helped.

“She might not come, or at least she may make a scene if I try to get her to come with me. You go in and get her to accompany you to my quarters, but don't tell her where you're taking her. Please be discreet, okay?”

Doug nodded, and Gareth hurried back down the stairs. He wanted to walk around the track and pray before he returned to his apartment. This could be a long, ugly night, and Charlotte needed all the divine intervention she could get.

Gareth punched the deck number on the elevator keypad and lifted the walkie-talkie from his waistband. He clicked the call button before speaking. “We found the lost item. Everyone return to your regular duties. Thank you for your assistance.”

When he reentered his quarters, Charlotte glanced up expectantly. She looked past him into the empty corridor, and her face fell. “I had hoped they'd found her.”

Gareth quickly crossed the room and pulled her to her feet. “We have. Doug is bringing her here.” He nodded to Marilyn, and she left them alone, closing the door softly behind her. “I wanted to be with you when she arrived.”

Charlotte pulled away and gripped her upper arms as if shielding her heart from harm. “Why? Has she been hurt?”

“No, she's just fine.” Before he could continue, a knock sounded on the door. “Come in.”

The portal opened, and Chelle stepped into the room. When she saw her mother, she crossed her arms over her chest where way too much skin was showing.

Charlotte gasped. “Chelle? Is that you?” She ended on a screech.

Gareth went over to thank Doug. When he did, he caught a whiff of alcohol on the girl's breath. Things were worse than he thought. Didn't the bartender ask to see her ID? He'd have to deal with that later.

After Gareth closed the door behind Doug, the silence turned as thick as molasses in January and throbbed with unspoken words. He looked at Charlotte, and his heart hurt at her stricken expression. He couldn't think of any way to soften the tension.

Charlotte crossed the room. “Where did you get that dress?” Her voice sounded hard and brittle.

Chelle stood straight and defiant, but she didn't answer.

“I asked you a question.” Charlotte's voice rose as she stopped in front of her daughter. “Where did you get that dress? You didn't bring it with you like you did the bikini, did you?”

The teenager dropped her arms to her sides. “No. I bought it at the boutique with the gift certificate.”

“You were planning this, weren't you? That's why you had your nails painted that color.” Charlotte took the girl's hands and stared at them in disgust. “I can't believe you were so devious.” She must have noticed the smell, because she wrinkled her nose and her face paled. “Chelle, have you been drinking?”

The question hung in the air for only a moment, before the teenager answered with a defiant shake of her head. “So what if I have?”

Charlotte pulled a hand back as if to strike the girl, then turned stricken eyes toward her own hand. She clutched her arms across her chest and strode across the room, stopping to stare out the windows into the darkness. No magic path of light here.

After a moment, she heaved her shoulders taking a deep breath and deliberately pivoted on one foot. “How could you drink that stuff? Have you forgotten that a drunk driver killed your father?”