Curse of the Arctic Star Read online

  Just then Tobias stomped in, pushing past an employee who tried to stop him. “Hey!” he shouted. “When’s the stupid tour going to start again?”

  Hiro looked startled, as if he’d just remembered what he was supposed to be doing. “Sorry, Tobias,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”

  Tobias snorted and turned away. “Not that I care,” he announced to no one in particular. “So far it’s so boring that I might as well be sitting in my room staring at the wall.”

  Hiro shot Becca a nervous glance, then hurried after the boy. Suddenly Becca’s strange look earlier made more sense. I guessed that as assistant cruise director, she was probably Hiro’s direct supervisor. He had to feel embarrassed about getting caught abandoning his young charges, even given the unusual circumstances.

  “You’ll like the next part, Tobias,” Hiro called out. “We’re going to meet Captain Peterson and see all the computers and other high-tech stuff in the control room. Won’t that be cool? I heard you’re a real computer whiz . . . .”

  His voice faded as he disappeared around the corner. Meanwhile the medic poked me in the shoulder. “Come,” she said. “We’re going to the clinic. No arguing.”

  Ten minutes later I was sitting on a cold plastic chair in a small but well-stocked medical clinic near the center of the ship while a nurse put a Band-Aid over my scrape. The medic was at a desk nearby, scribbling notes on some paperwork.

  “Can I go now?” I called to her.

  She glanced up and opened her mouth to answer. At that moment the door flew open and Wendy the blogger rushed in.

  “Oh my gosh!” she cried when she spotted me. “Are you okay, Nancy? I just heard what happened!”

  “News travels fast around here,” I said.

  The nurse was already bustling forward. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Patients only allowed in here.”

  “But I want to interview her for my blog!” Wendy protested.

  “You heard her. Out,” the medic said sternly. “You can visit with your friend once she’s released.”

  I didn’t bother to explain that Wendy and I weren’t exactly friends. Frankly, I was surprised she’d remembered my name.

  Maybe she should be a suspect, I thought. It’s odd how she keeps turning up right after bad stuff happens. And wouldn’t covering a bunch of crazy cruise disasters be a big draw for her travel blog?

  I was afraid Wendy might be waiting for me when the medic finally released me from the clinic. Instead I found my friends out in the hall.

  “Oh, good,” Alan joked when he saw the bandage on my arm. “We were afraid they’d have to amputate.”

  “Very funny,” I said with a smile—and a flash of guilt for wishing he wasn’t there. I really wanted to talk to Bess and George about my new Wendy theory.

  But that didn’t seem likely to happen anytime soon. It was lunchtime by now, and Alan dragged us off toward the café. “I’ve heard the buffet on this ship is spectacular,” he said.

  “It is,” George told him. “At least breakfast was pretty amazing.”

  “Yeah, and George would know. She ate most of it.” Bess glanced at her cousin. “I can’t believe you’re ready for lunch already. Do you have a tapeworm or something?”

  George shrugged. “Must be the sea air.”

  When we entered the café, at least half the tables were already occupied. More people were in the buffet line, helping themselves to the mountains of food piled there.

  I glanced around, spotting a few familiar faces in the crowd as my friends and I joined the line to grab trays. Vince and Lacey were huddled over a single plate of french fries. The ABCs were at a different table, chatting with some passengers I didn’t recognize. Tobias and his parents had a table to themselves near the dessert section.

  “Look, there’s Merk the Jerk again!” Alan pointed toward the center of the room. “Think he’d give me an autograph?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he rushed off toward the table where the comedian was sitting. Merk was talking loudly, though I couldn’t make out what he was saying from that distance. Whatever it was must have been funny, though, since the crowd gathered around him was laughing. I noticed that Wendy the blogger was among that crowd. So were a couple of cameramen, who were filming the whole scene.

  George was looking that way too. “There’s a motive for you,” she commented.

  “Huh?” I glanced at her as I grabbed a tray.

  “Merk,” George said. “With Brock out of the picture, he’s the headline entertainment on this cruise now. That’s got to be a boost to his career, right? Especially if he’s featured in all the ads and stuff.” She gestured toward the cameramen.

  Bess reached for a roll. “That’s true,” she said. “But what about the pool incident and the other trouble? He’d have no motive for that stuff.”

  “Or would he?” I said thoughtfully, jumping back again to my theory about Wendy the blogger. Could the same idea apply here? “If this cruise becomes notorious enough, everyone will want to hear about it. And one place they’ll look is online video sites.”

  George nodded. “And voilà—there’s Merk!” she said, pausing to grab a handful of potato chips off the buffet. “It kind of makes sense.”

  “Only kind of.” Bess still looked dubious. “I mean, Merk might not be A-list. But would he really risk his whole reputation like that?”

  I realized it was kind of unlikely. But there was no more time to discuss it. Alan was on his way back from Merk’s table.

  “I couldn’t even get close enough to ask,” he reported, leaning past us to pick up a sandwich, which he set on Bess’s tray. “I’ll have to try again later.”

  As we sat down and started eating, I was surprised to see the ship’s captain making a beeline for our table. He was a handsome, broad-shouldered man of about fifty. I’d seen him from a distance, but hadn’t met him yet.

  “Good afternoon,” he greeted us, his eyes flicking over the other three before settling on me. “I’m Captain Reece Peterson. I was hoping to find you here.” His gaze wandered to the bandage on my forearm. “I heard about the—er—incident at the miniature golf course earlier.”

  “Yeah,” George said. “Nancy almost got killed by that vicious moose. That’s probably worth a free shore meal in Ketchikan at least, huh?”

  Bess elbowed her cousin hard in the ribs. “She’s just kidding,” she told the captain with a smile. “Nancy’s fine.”

  “Yeah,” I added. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

  I expected him to smile and move on. But he just stood there for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The expression on his tanned, chiseled face was troubled.

  “Good, good,” he said after an awkward delay. “Uh, Marcelo tells me there were several ship personnel on the scene assisting you when he arrived. Do you happen to recall who they were? We just want to, uh, commend them.”

  “Yoo-hoo! Captain Peterson!” Just then Coral hurried over, all smiles. “Are you getting acquainted with our lovely young first-time cruisers?”

  The captain turned to smile and trade pleasantries with her, giving me the chance to shoot a perplexed glance at Bess and George. Why had the captain just asked me which employees had been present during my accident? Could he be worried that one of them was involved? Was it possible that he knew who I really was and why I was there? Becca claimed that she was the only one onboard who did. But what if Verity had filled him in without telling Becca?

  By then Coral was moving on toward the buffet line, saying something about testing out all the desserts. The captain turned back to me.

  “About those employees, Miss Drew . . . ,” he began.

  I watched as Coral reached the dessert area, mostly as an excuse not to meet the captain’s eye. So I was looking right at her when she reached for a pastry, let out a loud gasp—and then crumpled to the floor!

  “Coral!” I blurted out, on my feet before I knew it.

  Other people closer to h
er were exclaiming in alarm and rushing to help as well. I was halfway there when the screams started.

  “What’s going on?” George panted in my ear as she caught up to me. “Did Coral just faint?”

  “I guess so. But what’s going on there?” My gaze shot from the people kneeling beside Coral to the buffet, where several other passengers were peering at a tray piled high with pastries.

  “Stop!” a man I didn’t know cried as George and I came closer. “Stand back! There’s a tarantula in the cream puffs!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Unusual Suspects

  I GASPED AS I SAW SOMETHING SCUTTLE over an éclair and disappear behind a pile of brownies. “Was that really . . . ,” I began.

  “A tarantula!” George finished. “Whoa!”

  “Don’t hurt her!” a voice rang out behind us, cutting through the clamor. “Please! She’s friendly.”

  “Tobias!” Bess exclaimed. She and Alan had caught up by now. “What’s he doing?”

  We all watched as the kid pushed his way to the buffet. Standing on tiptoes to peer over the pastry tray, he leaned forward and scooped something up. When he turned around, we could all see a huge, hairy spider perched on his hand.

  “Tobias!” His father had hurried forward by now as well. “Is that Hazel?”

  “Hazel?” George echoed, raising one eyebrow.

  “No wonder Coral fainted,” I said, staring as the spider climbed slowly up Tobias’s arm. Her black-and-orange body was thicker than his wrist. “Who wants to see something like that sitting on your dessert tray?”

  Glancing at Coral, I saw that she was already sitting up with help from Captain Peterson and other bystanders, looking dazed but sheepish.

  The captain cleared his throat and called for attention. “Let’s all calm down, please,” he said in a voice of authority. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  “Oh, yes, I think so.” Coral was on her feet by now. “Though, silly me, I’m not entirely sure what just happened!”

  “It’s pretty clear what happened, I’m afraid,” Tobias’s father said grimly, grabbing his son by the shoulder. “Tobias must have sneaked his pet spider onboard, and then decided to cause a ruckus by dropping her in the food.”

  “Ow!” Tobias wriggled out of his father’s grasp, the sudden motion almost causing the tarantula to lose its grip on his arm. Hazel gave a little jump, ending up clinging to Tobias’s shirt. A couple of passengers nearby went pale and took a few steps backward.

  “I always kind of wanted a pet tarantula,” George commented to nobody in particular.

  I looked at her. “Not helping,” I said.

  Meanwhile Tobias turned to glare at his father. “You’re right, I did sneak Hazel onboard.” His lower lip stuck out defiantly. “I needed something to keep me busy on this trip.” He carefully stroked the tarantula’s hairy back as she climbed up toward his shoulder. “But I didn’t put her in the food. She could have been crushed!”

  The boy’s mother joined them, her face pale and angry. “Don’t lie to us, Tobias,” she said. “The evidence is right there on your shirt, remember?”

  “I’m not lying!” Tobias glared at her, his eyes flashing angrily. “The last time I saw Hazel she was in her cage in our stupid cabin. I told you, I’d never leave her where she could get hurt!”

  “Hmm.” His father didn’t look convinced. “I think we’d better continue this discussion in our cabin. So sorry for the disruption, everyone.” Stepping over to Coral, he put a hand on her arm. “Special apologies to you, ma’am. I hope you’re okay.”

  “Oh, I’m just fine.” Coral smiled as brightly as ever, though she still looked pale. Alice and Babs took her by the arms and led her toward their table.

  Tobias was dragged off in the opposite direction by his parents, loudly proclaiming his innocence all the while. Captain Peterson watched them go, then squared his shoulders.

  “All right, folks, show’s over. Please go back to enjoying your meals.” He glanced at several employees, who were already busy clearing away the trays where the tarantula had been. “Fresh desserts will be out shortly.”

  He strode off toward the exit, seeming to forget that we hadn’t finished our conversation. Good. I needed to talk to my friends about what had just happened.

  “Wow, that was creepy, huh?” Alan commented, slinging an arm over Bess’s shoulders.

  Oops. I’d almost forgotten about him.

  “Hey, Alan,” I said as we walked back to our table. “Seeing that spider made me feel a little shaky. Would you mind grabbing me a soda? With extra ice?” I gestured toward the drink station at the far end of the line.

  “Sure, Nancy. Be right back.” He smiled at me.

  “Isn’t he sweet?” Bess gave a little wave as Alan loped off. “It’s nice to spend time with a guy who’s so nice and considerate to everyone.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” I didn’t want to waste time discussing Alan’s virtues. “Listen, we need to talk.”

  George sat down and picked up her sandwich. “What’s to talk about? This is one crazy incident that’s no mystery.”

  “Agreed.” Bess’s eyes widened. “Actually, it might even solve another mystery. I bet that spider is how Tobias scared the maid yesterday! In the hallway, remember? He stuck something in his pocket—I bet it was Hazel.”

  “You’re probably right.” I sank into my chair, thinking hard. “But listen, maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to assume this has nothing to do with the other incidents.”

  George let out a snort. “What, do you think Tobias is the one who’s been sabotaging the cruise?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Think about it. Hiro mentioned earlier that Tobias is good with computers.”

  “He did?” Bess blinked at me.

  I nodded. “When he was chasing him out of the mini-golf place earlier. Anyway, if it’s true—like, if Tobias is really some kind of computer genius—he could have sent those e-mails to Becca and Brock. Maybe he was trying to get the whole cruise shut down so he could go to that amusement park instead. It’s obvious he wants to be anywhere else but here.”

  “They wouldn’t shut down a cruise over a couple of e-mails,” George said.

  I shrugged. “Tobias is just a kid. He wouldn’t necessarily realize that. Anyway, that mannequin stunt was pretty childish, if you think about it. And Becca said the drink mix came from the kids’ section, remember? Plus, Tobias was nearby during the moose incident this morning.”

  My friends traded a glance, looking skeptical. I couldn’t really blame them.

  “Okay, so it’s a little far-fetched,” I said. “So are all our other theories so far.”

  “Incoming,” George hissed, glancing over my shoulder.

  Alan was hurrying toward us, holding my glass of soda. I sighed, then pasted on a smile. Further discussion would have to wait.

  “Come on, dude.” Vince the newlywed grinned as he hung at the edge of the pool, his hair slicked back. “We need one more guy for even teams.”

  Alan sat up straight on his lounge chair. It was an hour after lunch, and he’d insisted we all change into our bathing suits and get some sun. I was itching to get away and do some investigating, but I hadn’t found the right excuse yet.

  “Volleyball, huh?” Alan said, glancing from Vince to the four other guys of various ages out in the pool. “I’m not bad at that, if I do say so myself.”

  A few members of the film crew were nearby, getting shots of passengers enjoying the pool. One of the cameramen came closer, his lens trained on Alan and Vince. “Go on, man,” he called. “This could be great stuff for the ads.”

  Another cameraman was filming the guys in the pool. He glanced over his shoulder at Alan. “You guys’ll be Superstar superstars,” he joked.

  I peered at him over my sunglasses. It was Baraz, the one who’d disappeared so abruptly yesterday.

  “Okay, how can I say no to that?” Alan peeled off his T-shirt and stood up, tugging up the waistband of his swi
m trunks.

  “Have fun,” Bess said, glancing up from her fashion magazine.

  Alan grinned, dropped a quick kiss on top of her head, then cannonballed into the pool to loud cheers from the other guys. I sat up, dropped the book I’d been pretending to read, and scooted my lounge chair a little closer to my friends. It was a gorgeous afternoon and the pool was busy, but none of the other sunbathers were close enough to overhear us.

  “Okay, where were we?” I said briskly.

  George looked up from her laptop with a smirk. “You were trying to convince us that an eight-year-old is some kind of criminal mastermind,” she joked.

  I smiled. “Okay, I already admitted that one’s a little bit of a stretch,” I reminded her. “So let’s come up with some other ideas.” I’d spent the past half hour stewing over the case while pretending to read my book, so I was ready. “I’m thinking we shouldn’t focus too much on motives right now—it’s just too random. Instead let’s think about opportunity. Who could have done the things that have happened so far?”

  “Just about anyone on the ship.” George shrugged. “I mean, we’re all stuck in this floating tin can together. Equal opportunity.”

  “Not really.” Bess looked thoughtful. “There weren’t that many people around the mini-golf place this morning. If the bolts on that antler were loose enough to let go just because Alan and I leaned back against the moose’s side, it probably couldn’t have been that way for long, right?”

  “Good point.” I thought back to the incident. “Actually, I did notice something weird right after it happened.”

  “What? Tobias sneaking around with a monkey wrench?” George teased.

  “No. It was when Becca arrived on the scene.”

  Bess cocked an eyebrow. “Hang on, you’re not suspecting Becca, are you?”

  I shook my head. “It’s just that I noticed her giving Hiro a really funny look when she spotted him there.”

  “Hiro? You mean that kiddie wrangler guy?” George tugged at the strap of her one-piece swimsuit. “Come to think of it, he totally encouraged us to check out the mini golf, remember?” She grinned. “Hey, while we’re at it, playing mini golf was all Alan’s idea. Maybe he did it!”