Page 27 of Love Overboard
“It won’t take long.” Emily passed a one-sheet summary to each woman. “They always bring miso soup.”
“But me so hungry.” Althea nudged Daisy with an elbow, and her roommate chuckled obediently.
Gerry took out her spectacles and studied the handout on Jon. The short list of details regarding their cruise director didn’t even fill half the page. “Not much to go on, is it?”
“What new information have you found?” Emily held her pen above the paper, ready to write.
“I combed the social media sites,” Gerry said. “He’s not listed on any of them. I even tried the Florida government page. I found thirteen men with the name Jonathan King in Fort Lauderdale alone. Who knew it was such a common name? In the end, I got zilch.”
Emily dropped her pen. “Nothing?”
Gerry leaned back on the bench seat, crossed her arms, and wrapped her long fingers around her elbows. “I employed all the usual methods. When using his name didn’t work, I ran an image search on Google. I even checked the sex offender registry, but still nothing.”
“Thank heaven for that,” Daisy said, shivering.
Althea grabbed a cloth napkin from the table and spread it across her lap. “What do we do now?”
Gerry rubbed the nape of her neck. “Without a hometown or the name of his school to narrow the results, there are way too many Jonathan Kings in the public records. It would take forever to sift through the agglomeration. Details. We have to find them.”
Emily reached over and patted Gerry’s arm. “You’ve done your best, dear. But the fact that we can’t easily locate any information is highly suspicious. Let’s consider other options.”
Daisy’s drawl was tinged with a hint of trepidation. “Such as?”
“Tell me, Gerry.” Emily picked up her pen and slid it in her pocket. “Don’t you have a cousin who’s a retired detective?”
“Yes, I do.” Her sudden catlike smile matched her spectacles. “And as a matter of fact, he owes me a favor.”
“Wonderful.” Emily closed her binder. “Give him Jonathan King’s name and profession and see what he can uncover. We’ll continue this discussion after your cousin does some research. Meeting adjourned.”
Althea’s arm shot in the air. “Waiter.”
One round of miso and two appetizers later, the Shippers dug into the main course.
“They hired a new magician for the after-dinner show,” Althea said around a mouthful of chicken katsu. “We should go.”
“I lost my interest in magic shows at the age of twelve,” Emily said.
“Think of it as matchmaker research. A new man means a new workup for our employee files. You’re the one who insists we keep them updated.”
“She’s right.” Gerry squeezed her chopsticks to grab a lone fried dumpling on the appetizer plate. “He might be a prospective client.”
Daisy set her fork down and fingered the high neckline of her dark cotton blouse. “I’m not dressed for a show. I’ll have to change first.”
Althea waved her fork. “You’re wearing black from top to toe. That’s dressy enough. I bet some people will come in flip-flops.”
Daisy smoothed her shirt and buttoned it at the collar. After reaching in her purse, she withdrew a rose-tinted cameo brooch and pinned it at her neck. “I suppose you’re right. Young people these days lack proper fashion sense.”
“Or common sense.” Gerry pushed her plate away. “It’s settled, then. Let’s head to the show.”
They left the restaurant, maneuvered through the crowded lobby, and entered the main auditorium. Emily led them to their usual couch in front of the stage, and the Shippers made themselves comfortable. The opening numbers remained the same. An overblown master of ceremonies in a flashy blue-sequined jacket introduced the next performers, and an energetic samba group spilled onto the stage. The dancers jiggled and shimmied to the syncopated music.
Emily’s attention wandered to her friends. Althea clapped along even though she’d watched the show many times. Gerry’s eyes held the faraway look she got when she was plotting a new story, and Daisy had shut her eyes altogether. The Southern matron wore a pained expression.
Daisy whispered, “Those women haven’t got enough clothes between them for one decent outfit.”
“Bless their hearts.” Althea squinted. “Not a panty line to be seen on any of them. I wonder if the men are wearing thongs.”
Emily couldn’t care less about the performers’ underwear. She scrutinized the room, but Lacey wasn’t there. She’d been out of sight since Punta Verdad. The hardworking hostess was usually easy to spot. Was she angry enough to cut them out completely? Emily sucked the inside of her cheek between her teeth and chewed. Perhaps theyhadgone a bit far … Emily straightened at the thought, rejecting it. They would go further still if it meant helping Lacey find love.
