Chapter 1 - The Man at the Next Table
I was seventy-three the first time I took a cruise alone. I met Gerald on the second night, and for six days he made me believe life still had room in it for something unexpected.
We shared breakfasts. Long walks on the promenade deck. Champagne. Dancing. Conversations that made me feel younger than I had in years.
Then, on the final night, I followed him below deck.
What I found down there changed everything.
My suitcase was sitting outside a room I'd never seen before. My scarf was lying across the bed. And photographs of me covered the table — some taken days before Gerald and I had supposedly even met.
"What is going on here?" I demanded.
An alarm was echoing through the corridor. Gerald reached toward me.
"Eleanor. Please."
I pulled my arm back. "Don't touch me." I pointed at the photographs. "My things are in this room. You've been taking pictures of me. I want the truth. All of it, right now."
Something changed in his face. Not embarrassment.
Fear.
Gerald glanced toward the hallway, then said something that made my stomach drop.
"Someone broke into your cabin twenty minutes ago."
"What?"
"They used a copied keycard."
"And how exactly would you know that?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead he looked at the photographs again, and that's when I noticed what I'd missed. Several of them included the same stranger — a man in a blue baseball cap. In one, he stood behind me while passengers boarded. In another, he sat two tables away at breakfast. In a third, he lingered near the elevators while I waited alone.
I jabbed a finger at the photo. "Who is that?"
Gerald hesitated. The alarm cut off. A voice came over the ship's speakers, announcing that a security incident had been resolved and asking passengers to remain in public areas.
Security incident. Not a fire. Not a drill.
Gerald exhaled slowly. "Eleanor, I need to explain everything."
"I'm listening."
He stayed by the door. "My name really is Gerald."
"That's comforting."
"I'm seventy-six."
"Wonderful."
"I really am widowed."
I crossed my arms. "Are you reading me your dating profile again?"
His mouth twitched, just for a second. Then his face went serious. "I was a police detective for thirty-one years."
I stared at him. "You told me you worked in insurance."
"I did. After I retired."
"So you've been lying to me all week."
"Yes."
At least he had the decency not to argue that point.
"Why?"
He took a breath. "Because I was asked to watch you."
My whole body went cold. "By who?"
He hesitated again, and I pointed a finger at him. "If you tell me you can't say, I am going to start screaming, right here, right now."
"Your daughter."
I actually laughed out loud. "Nora?"
"Yes."
"My daughter thinks extra salt is a health emergency. She texts me articles about blood clots before I board a plane. She did not hire a retired detective to shadow me around a cruise ship."
"She didn't hire me."
That stopped me cold. "Then what did she do?"
May you like
"She contacted the cruise line."
And suddenly I remembered the phone calls.
