Page 82 of Terminal Voyage

"We need to talk about a few things," I said, looking around again to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

"Sounds like I'm going to need a drink for this. You want one?”

"No. Thank you."

Vanessa dashed into the salon and slipped behind the bar. I waited on the aft deck, watching the crew cast off the lines. I had more than a little trepidation about staying aboard, but I wanted to see this thing through.

Vanessa returned a moment later with two frozen margaritas and handed me one. "Take it. You look like you could use it.”

I figured it might take the edge off, but I needed to stay sharp. My elbow and knee ached. I’d hit my knee on the handlebars, and it was pretty bruised. I took a sip of the margarita, and it tasted pretty good. "I thought you weren’t feeling well.”

She groaned. "I felt terrible. I took some stuff for my stomach, lay down for a while, and I feel much better. I'm absolutely confident this margarita will kill any germs I may have picked up in this shithole.”

"How long have you been dating Declan?" I asked.

Vanessa shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe a year.”

I frowned. "Don't shoot the messenger.”

Her eyes narrowed at me. "What?”

I cringed. "I don't… I don't know if I should say it. You’re going to get mad at me. You’re gonna yell.”

"I won't yell. I promise. What is it?"

I gathered my strength and said, "Kate had been aboard this boat numerous times," I said in a hushed tone.

"What!?”

"It was arranged through her agency.”

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

After a hesitation, I said, "She was an escort."

Vanessa's eyes bulged, and her face went long. The color drained from her skin.

"She was on this boat," I said. "I can all but prove it." Then, in a whisper, I said, "Has the FBI interviewed Declan?”

Vanessa swallowed hard, her reality collapsing around her. "I don't know. Not that I'm aware of.”

"They had to question him. Her cell records would have indicated she was on the boat. He's been gaslighting me this entire time.”

It was at that time that Declan walked through the main salon and stepped onto the aft deck to join us. With a beaming smile, he said, "You made it back! We were starting to get worried about you.”

"Anya," I said.

Declan's face went pale.

40

"Excuse me?" Declan said, stalling.

"Anya," I snapped. I grabbed the fashion mag from the table, flipped through the pages, and showed him a picture of the gorgeous redhead. "That's Kate. That's who I've been talking about this entire time."

The wheels turned behind his eyes, panic sinking in. But Declan was quick on his feet. "Of course, Anya.”

I gave him an incredulous look. "You lied to me."